Team B

It was my first year at a residential school, I wanted to play cricket; I could not, not that I was incompetent, but that I wasn't out going. People who could talk and who looked big made the team in the sixth grade and only with the help of one of my friends I was the 12th man. I smiled when we lost.

Seventh grade was no better, the big guys still made the hostel team. I tried my hands at everything else, but was scared at hockey, slow at football, small for basketball and volley ball and too bad for tennis. For a while I just roamed around the grounds aimlessly, whiling my mandatory games hours in the evening.

One day I noticed a small number of people playing cricket with a worn out bat, sticks for stumps and a brand new ball on a hand ball court. I thought I almost found my creed, most of them were small and not very built either, and the built ones were the introverts.

We grew in number during the next few months, and since I was one of the founding members, I almost often captained a side everyday.

On one of the first few days of the Eighth grade, one of my little friends suggested making a Team B for every hostel. Faces brightened but making a team of 11 was a mammoth challenge, because the other guys in the hostel did not want to offend the biggies by joining a rebel team.

We managed to make it 9 for the first match between the blues and the reds, some of them playing cricket for the first time. I wouldn't forget that day, not because it was our first match or that we lost but because I lost my first watch, a gift from my father.

Before long we had 11 regulars for the team, sometimes even substitutes and a few ‘A team’ (the hostel team was now known by this name) members who played for their B, though the older bats and the sticks stayed.

Middle school was when we had our best times. After each vacation we managed to get a new bat or a couple of new balls from back home. By the end of Eighth grade almost all the hostels had a 'team B' and I had managed to gain the wrath of almost all of the biggies, because I stood tall and every time.

Personally we managed to strike a chord amongst us that kept us together even away from the grounds.

By the end of high school, the best of the B teams was already playing for their hostels and not surprisingly I was not picked for the hostel team. Many of the reds were playing for the hostel already; it only hurt when they refused to play for the Team B.

At senior school there weren't many people to fill two teams and eventually the B teams died out. In all the while it existed, Red B was arguably the best of the B teams, though the yellows and blues too came good in parts. Through the 3 years we had also played against some of the hostel teams, almost winning a few of them.

I was finally picked for the hostel team during my last year at school; I imagine it was more because of the loss in strength at the hostel than my own capabilities. I had a good share of spoils in the very few matches I played and the best performances were almost always from the once small, shy kids who started with sticks and broken bats on a handball court.

I had reasons to smile even when we lost.

Long long ago..

There were only two kinds of people in my school, the famous and the infamous, others were almost nonexistent or were considered so. Since books and playfields rarely interested me, I quickly graduated to the infamous list although it needed some extraordinary courage and shamelessness.

Defiance of the rules, muddling the uniform, frequenting the TV hall in wee hours (just to prove) and marking my absence at every gathering pushed me to the ranks, but I was not complete, not without an escapade to the next town.

A residential public school with a military back drop that rarely allowed real world expoure wasn't the only thing that stood in my way and the next town. It also included,

1. Dodging the security, that involved changing in to civilian clothes inside one of those dense wild shrubs.
2. Stopping a bus, raising no alarms and not giving away the identity with my crew cut for the next half hour of the journey.
3. Watching a movie or hanging around the town very often infested by the school staff.
4. Reversal of steps one and two. For Javed too it was a virgin act.

Javed was a rich man, meaning he had a hundred rupee note and I was worth only a quarter of it.

Scene 1

I was changing clothes in broad day light and inside a shrub with one of my best friends; a surprise visitor would have doubted our orientation. Javed was dirtying his face with sand, must be some tips from the older guys I thought and I followed suit. The tallest shrub protected our uniforms.

We spent an hour behind a tree before a bus stopped; we found the last seat empty and ducked our heads for the next half hour. When we reached the movie hall running and gasping for breath, the ticket sales had already closed down.

Having no other option other than to roam around the town, the first thing I did was call my mother at her office. I was talking to my mother after three long months and I pretended I was talking to her during an official trip.

The telephone bill was an exorbitant forty rupees; visibly angry Javed reluctantly slipped his hands inside his pant pockets. I was pawned at the phone booth and Javed said he would return in an hour, he had forgotten his 100 rupee note inside his uniform.

Scene 2

Javed is nervous and is sweating overtly, grabbing the attention of the vicinity. Some stranger strikes a conversation with Javed trying to make him comfortable, Javed is relaxed but almost crying. The stranger helps him with some money after hearing a rather bizarre story.

Although the guy at the booth was trying his best to comfort me, I continued sweating. To my relief, Javed returned in twenty minutes I was traded back, phew.

Scene 3

Only stage four was remaining but our heads were already drooping. Lady luck must have been taking a real long break, for when were about to board the bus, we were met right on face by the big mustached English teacher Mr. Jeyaraj. With no valid reasons for us being in the town, we had the right to remain silent.

We were again at the last row and it was showbiz for us. We had the undivided attention of the almost all passengers, hearing our histories and watching him play with our ears (he was known for his long finger nails and his fondness for ears).

I was afraid, the tragedy could prolong if we were handed over at the school gates. It meant public humiliation and a complete Khaki outfit with leather shoes at all places (play field included) for another week. Mr. Jeyaraj stopped the bus exactly where we had boarded only a few hours before, and said "run, you stupid buggers" with a smirk on his face. We lived the expression, "running for lives" till we reached the tree where we had started it all. The uniforms were missing.

Scene 4

We walked inside the hostel, making up faces that brimmed with pride.
Voila! we had done it, well almost.

May be It was..

I was never so frustrated at least in the recent times. I pay, never mind if my friend does, 3000 bucks for a New Year bash and what was I supposed to do? Watch some wowow babe dance with some one who made me feel I was a handsome prince. That was not all, we had to watch them from a balcony standing all the while, not minding the trampling legs (some moron had combat boots on), because the place couldn’t seat more than 25 people and we had 100 single men for the bash. Although the number of single men around helped me resurrect my confidence levels, some how I thought I needed blood pressure pills.

It was supposed to be 'the night', with my school buddies around some of them after almost a decade, I could only grumble. We had already swigged two rounds of a drink that I had only heard of, from people used to shopping at the airports and holidaying in tax free zones. My friends aren't grumblers; soon I was outside silently watching an animated conversation between my friends and some official looking butterball. A faint smile was beginning to appear on all their faces.

We marched in to another place all the while being watched by people who seemed so interested in my white T-shirt and jeans. Was I hallucinating? I am not sure. Not that it bothered me, but being in a dimly lit hall again seemed to increase my comfort levels. The music inside was loud and blaring, obvious indications of 'this was not a room made for a dance floor'. It was a conference hall, which we soon found out from a plaque carelessly covered with a blind. Not one inside looked like he/she has ever danced in his life before. Throw your hands up in the air, jump move around, don’t even bother about the beat and yes bump someone, and what do we have?? A new year's dance floor, yuck.

One fat girl/ lady was looking like a total freak shaking her long hair like Shakira doing her pelvis. The other guy must be living in a joint family for he was doing things with his wife (I suppose) my father would have called lewd, given the situation and vicinity. We tried dancing a little in the one corner that seemed empty, only to be pushed off the dance floor in a few minutes by a gang of four girls and one 'I am rich and dumb' looking guy. So much for the arguments and the dance floor, we were only gulping up the foreign brand, breaking our previous records and trying to make up for the paid sum the next half hour. One of my friends even shrugged of an interested dancer of the opposite gender.

A drink, a bit of dance, anothar dirnk and soime more or dlance, a litkle mire drijnk and likkee nore dsance (alright, alright I copied it from a joke!!). It went on until all our previous records were broken, our clothes drenched, the old year gone, my friends out of their jackets and I saw this cute small girl dancing all to herself. Very often I had chased children away from my vicinity, even my brother's daughter stays a foot away when she talks to me. For some godforsaken reason this girl in black pants, rose tops and a black jacket was moving towards me smiling or was she laughing? I moved my limbs as if to dance, she mimicked my movements and we started to dance. Very soon she ditched me for my friends all of them playing her pair in tandem.

At her age, I would have most probably been tripping on my toes and here she was dancing like a ballerina (doesn't the word mean a beautiful dancer?), in sync with the beat and movements that made me go wow. I was kneeling most of the time to match my little girl's height; I still stood a few inches tall. We even played the movements we used a decade before at high school, a moment of nostalgia took over. Whenever we took a break for a breather she hugged me tight (because I was her height) and asked us come back soon. I wonder if I never smelt of the drink all the while because in the morning I had a breath a skunk would have frowned upon. Some more kids were starting to dance, her parents were so wonderfully enjoying the moment and in all the noise one of my friends bent closer and told me “May be it was worth all of it or was it more?”

The music was fading away and as I sat down, Sai-preetha leapt on to my lap and started to sleep, I am not very sure what I felt at that moment, I think it felt good probably very good patting the girl to sleep. We had danced close to two hours, it was soon time to go and Sai was awake, I got my first kiss this year and a long one. Though I talked to her parents a lot that night mostly to tell them they had the most beautiful daughter on earth, for some reason I did not take a number, or leave one. Even after two days we were still talking about her and my friend kept telling us “May be it was worth all of it and more eh?”.

Three coffees and a sweetmeat.

"Be a man," my friend told me.We were both lying on the terrace of my hostel looking at the star-studded sky. It was just about three months since I had joined college and I thought I was in love. Maha was beautiful, my first girl friend after seven years at a residential boys' school. Three months around her I was almost convinced I was in love. I even carried her photograph wherever I went. I had told my friend about it. He was more excited than I was and he was her best friend too.

"I think she loves you more than you think she does, go ahead let her know what you think" continued my friend, "In a few days time we are going on a vacation, aren't we? I will arrange for a rendezvous and you are proposing her!!! ", it was almost a command and he stood up and walked away. The cold night was getting warm.

The next four days were hard to move. I skipped classes on two of those days and slept in the classroom on the other two days as I had not slept in the nights. Just a day before I called up my mother and told her I was proposing a girl. I was disappointed when she simply said, " You still have a day to think about it".

It was the day and I wore my favorite black pair of pants with a borrowed cream-colored shirt and shiny black shoes (borrowed of course). All the three of us left my college to the Bus station where she and my friend would take a bus to their hometown. There were a good three hours left for their bus and we went to a coffee shop.
I ordered for a cup of coffee and a sweetmeat I thought was fresh, while they sat sipping teas. When we left it was almost an hour, I had had three coffees.

She wanted to make a call. We had to go to a telephone booth and while she went inside one of the cabins, my friend silently left telling me "f*** you man, all the best ". I was all alone and sweating when she came out and looked for him, my friend.

"Maha.. " I started "Yes, Kumar" she continued. "I think.... I thi " I couldn't continue.. "You think what? And where is Joe? ".

I couldn't stand it any longer, I mustered up all the courage I could and I started "I.." . She wasn't even looking at me when she said impatiently " I what?" something’s wrong with you Kumar?? ". I couldn’t look at her.

"I think I like you more than you think I do! " I finally said, " and what does that mean?" she asked without a wink. "I mean.. I think.. Maha to live with you all my.., I mean I think I am in l.. l.. ", no it never came out of my mouth. I tried looking at the wall posters around, Heavens why were all the theatres running ‘B’ grade movies?

"So this is what the fuss is all about! Kumar, I think you are mistaken because I never had such a thing towards you ", Maha sounded indifferent.

I was feeling uneasy; three coffees with sweetmeat are definitely not good for your stomach when you propose.

"You are such a good friend and I would always..." she went on but I couldn’t listen to her anymore.
Joe was smiling at me when he returned.

"Is there a washroom around " I asked him. "Yes there's one around the corner, but is something wrong?" he retorted.

"Yes, think I need to retire", I did not wish them good-bye.
I should call Mom very soon, I thought as I left.

Passed .. out

Me: hello?
Voice over the phone: (a female) is this Mr. Kumar? (huh!! not another credit card !!!)
Me: ya, tell me.
Voice over phone: We are calling from (some MNC) Hyderabad; Remember I had called you yesterday Mr. Kumar? Are you ready to take your interview Mr kumar?
Me: (shit!!) of course ya, I mean yes ma.. Madam
Vop: Kindly hold on for a moment, Mr. Kumar, (some music played)
Me: (I was breathing like I had asthma! ran to the 'C' programming book that was on my table)
Vop: Mr. Kumar?
Me: Yes sir,
Vop: I am (some name) and also here with me there is Mr (some other name), can we proceed on Mr. Kumar?
Me: Yes Mr mm???(My!! what was his name?), i mean err.. Yes sir
Vop: All right, what is your current profile like Mr. Kumar?
Me: Sir actually My company is an organization working on.. (I went on blah blah, must have been impressed he he)
Vop: what exactly do you do?
Me: Sir I am a design Engineer,
Vop: Software or hardware?
Me: I the.. I do both.. I do the coding, the hardware design
Vop: so there are no team members?
Me: Yes, I mean No, there are
Vop: what do they do?
Me: both software and hardware..
Vop: and you?
Me: (blink blink!!)
Vop: that’s fine Mr. Kumar, before moving on.. How much do you think you can rate yourself in 'c' out of 10?
Me: (bah..) sir may be 5 , 6 , I think 7 sir
Vop: that is interesting Mr. Kumar, can we proceed?
Me: YES sir (confidence!! you see)
Vop: All right tell me what is the difference between a structure and an union?
Me: memory allotted for an instance of an Union would be only the.. Blah blah (and the answer was correct, I told you 7 didn’t I?)
Vop: good Mr. Kumar (thank u).. Okay, what is a void pointer?
Me: (rush the pages on the book.. where the hec.. ahh! time is running)
Vop: Mr. Kumar? Are you with us?
Me: ye..s sir(where the hell?) i mean.. a void poi
Vop: can we go to the next question?
Me: (page not found!!!) a void pointer points to Null (please don’t ask me what is null)
Vop: mmm... So what is a null pointer?
Me: f**k !! (Did i say the 'f' word?) Oh shit!! (Great! i also said the 's' word), i am sorry sir ... I mean
Vop: (could hear them laughing, I was thinking of cutting the call), its okay Mr. Kumar..
Me: sir.. Vop: do you know Telugu by any chance?
Me: (breathe easy ooh..): I think I can talk a little Sir..
Vop: Äh+îQ_+ÄAƒ±»_+îD_+æEîm+6+_à-¦*&$# (something in telugu)
Me: Sir?
Vop: Äh+îQ_+ÄAƒ±»_+îD_+æEîm+6+_à-¦*&$# (the same thing in telugu)
Me: (silence, goodness me technical was better!)
Vop: That’s okay Mr Kumar, ha ha.. Telugu is not a prerequisite (a**), it was just to cool you down okay tell me, what does Malloc do?
Me: (some thing I know at last) The function allots memory dynamically.. During the run time..(Blah blah.. wow)
Vop: good, so what is the difference between 'C'alloc and 'M'alloc?
Me: (its over dear! I didn't want to open the book)
Vop: Mr. Kumar?..................... Me: yes sir 'C'alloc is ..er.. I don’t know.
Vop: Okay Mr. Kumar, what the difference between pointer to an array and an array of pointers..
Me: (I knew the answer and I do not know why, but I remained silent)
Vop: Mr. Kumar.. ................... Me: Yes sir
Vop: all right we will move on, how much can you rate yourself in C++?
Me: Sir, can we stop here?
Vop: fine Mr. Kumar, we will stop here and nice talking to you all this time, we will get back to you very soon.
Me: fuc..
Vop: yes Mr. Kumar
Me: Nice talking to you too sir..

Its been two years since ...!!!

I am going on a Jet Plane..

Just before a fortnight I had been to an airport for the first time when my friend's, friend's uncle had left for Germany. I had watched in awe as every flight took off, for more than two hours before I reluctantly left almost forgetting the reason I had been to the airport. And then one fine day I was told by my Manager that I was going to fly, thanks to a delay in the schedule of my work- I was left with little time and they booked me an air ticket.

I got to the airport finally for my first air travel after what I thought were the two longest days of my life. The one-hour that I had to spend at the airport, after a dark but smiling cute girl gave me the boarding pass, seemed even longer. My friend and I sat right in front of the status display waiting for the flights schedule, while my head ran to the days when I had tried touching a flying aircraft.

I was sipping a cold coffee when the status of the Aircraft that I was supposed to board suddenly moved on from SCHEDULED to NOW BOARDING. Like two school, children we ran to the gate 2 only to hear a big man with a even bigger moustache asking us to tag the luggage. We ran back to the counter to get the tags attached and the cute girl at the counter did it smiling. We ran again to Mr. big moustache, who promptly put our luggage in to a conveyor and led me to another man who checked me with what looked like a badminton racket.

When I returned to pick up my luggage, Both our boarding passes were crossed by Mr. Big moustache because I had a wire cutter inside my bag and my friend had a pair of scissors inside his. We ran again to the counter, had our bags screened and thrown in to another conveyor. And just as we started to run back to the Gate -2, I turned back for one last glimpse of the cute girl, she wasn't smiling anymore. The Big moush let us both in and we walked in to the gate to a waiting bus and a frowning driver.

The Mayhem inside the Airport had made me forget I was flying and only when the bus was nearing the Aircraft I actually felt the occasion. Two smiling airhostesses waited at the door inviting us as we both walked in barehanded. I walked a little faster than my friend and captured the window seat only to find myself sitting exactly by the wings of the Aircraft. The airhostesses then instructed us of how to use the seat belts and the emergency oxygen masks. Three of them demonstrated it so rhythmically that I thought the sequence was choreographed.

Ten minutes later the Aircraft started to move, slowly at first, a lot faster two turns later and before I could feel it had picked up height bringing all the blood from my head to my stomach. I had a pain in my neck when I looked straight having watched my city grow smaller and smaller. After about ten minutes of savouring the moment, the height and the airhostesses, I asked for a cup of coffee and I got a glass of hot water, a packet of sugar, some instant coffee and milk powder.

Lucky me, I was making coffee at some dizzy great height in the skies. I had just mixed up the milk powder and the coffee when the plane slightly shuddered pulling down an airhostess and my sugar sachet to the floor. Chaos followed as everyone wanted to know what was happening, the airhostesses lost their smile and panic showed on most of the faces. I started to sweat inside the air-conditioned cabin as I held on tightly on to my handrest beside my friend who was mumbling a prayer silently. Another shudder of the aircraft and there was silence in the whole of the till now noisy flight, except for a very beautiful small girl in a black dress who was enjoying the shudder jumping on her mother's lap.

The Pilot Sumeet (and from no where I got this image of Captain Smith of the Titanic in my head) was on the address system asking the crew to get back to their cabins and assuring us there was no problem and it was just another air pocket, what ever that meant. In a few minutes the air pockets returned to haunt us, the small girl returned to the peak of her voice and my creeps returned to my stomach. I had to pull my window shutter down to keep myself from panicking, when I looked out of the window and at the wildly arching wings. Things got smoother in a few minutes, the crew were on their feet smiling but the small girl started to cry as I tried to concentrate on my now sugarless coffee.

There was an audible sigh of relief inside the plane when the pilot announced the landing and asked us put on our seat belts. After two swings and two more shudders in the air, the aircraft started to descend and the small girl was jumping again. Only when the aircraft came to a screeching halt, my pulse rate started to descend and I found my breath and the sugar sachet.

When it was time to get off the two airhostesses stood again at the doorway thanking us for flying their airlines and the only one I saw smiling back was the small girl in black. And Before I got in to the airport I saw the hostess who had fallen down soothing her bruised shoulders, while somewhere in the vicinity I heard the Eagles sing
'Some dance to remember Some dance to forget'..

11g, west mambalam

To travel in a Bus in chennai is in itself an experience.. and if you are caught in the peak hours, man!! you are really in for something. Many a times you pay the ticket for just one leg and one hand of yours travelling inside the bus. One good thing about the Busses in chennai is that the last row is exclusively for women, and for those who travel on the footboard you can simply drool through your journey.

That thursday morning I had my colleague's 'Pulp fiction' Cd(a 1994 blockbuster movie) to carry back to office. As usual I found a place for my left leg inside the bus and my 'Pulp Fiction' found its place on this girls's lap who was at the window as I couldn't hold it with me hanging. Two stops away the girl got down giving me my CD and a smile, that I thought I had seen somewhere.

The next day again, I had Tom hank's 'Philedelphia' (a wonderfully made movie.. take my word its sensitive and beautiful) with me and found just enough place for my left shoe on God knows who's right shoe and a place for my Cd at the window seat. Two stops down, the Bus is a little less crampier and then I get the CD from a familiar hand. Wait!! hadn't I seen this bracelet somewhere? that familiar smile confirmed it. And guess what? she even bid me a 'Bye'.

After long I thought I had seen a face that stuck to my head, she looked - may be 'Pretty'? just out of teens, not very fair, a little short, not a face that grabs your attention, but a face that lingers on..and it did with me through the day.

On Saturday morning I had Marlon Brando's 'God father' in my hands and this time I didn't forget to look at the now familiar window seat. She was there smiling as usual even as she took the CD from me. I understood I must have stamped someone more than once looking at the last row when I heard him howl at me. I thought damn! and went on as she kept giving me the smile at definite intervals. Two stops down, she squeezes out of the bus, hands over the Cd and says "Excuse me!! why dont you ever travel inside a bus? why dont you be a little more careful about yourself? " with a mock anger on her face. I was like Bah!! Nothing came out my mouth except what I thought was a stupid grin. And then she sports her trademark smile, bids me a bye, walks away..Believe me if only I wasn't late for my work i swear I would have walked her way.

Monday came and this time I took my planner (which had my visiting card on it!!) with 'Godfather III', spent more time on my dress and my hair than usual, went to the bus stop earlier than usual and waited for my (her)bus. The first bus I thought was too early for her timing. She wasn't there on the second one, the third either, and the fourth one had everyone staring at me as I went one end to the other searching for that lost smile.

It was 10.30 when I reached my office an hour late than usual tired and draining . The day was busy but still the smile managed to find gaps and barge my head. The whole week had my colleagues asking me If something was wrong and why I was late. I had no answer, except what I thought was stupid grin. Its been a fortnite since but I still miss a bus or two with that stupid hope of seeing that smile again for God knows why.

"unnai adigam ninaipathillai, anal moochu vidum tharunam mattum eno ninaivukku vanthuvidugirai" ethuvum kadan vangina kavithai than.. enge padichennu nyabagam valrale... rendu naal parthathukku enthe effectannu kekatheenge.. chumma oru kodu podamnule athukkuthan..