The Professor

I have seen few smarter men at his age, seventy isn't an age when soiled shoes would seriously worry you, but for this man it did. The first time I saw him, I was honestly impressed with his clean-shaven face, neatly pressed dress and shining black shoes. I was killing time at my friend Ismail's shop when he came up to me and said "Hello, I am Srinivasan, retired Professor Presidency College" before he firmly shook hands with me. Believe me with an impeccable accent that would put any 'call center' guy to shame. I thought he was there to may be pick something up from the shop but was taken aback when he asked me for a five Rupee coin for a cup of tea. Even as I was wondering about what I was supposed to do, I couldn't help but notice Ismail's disapproval of the conversation. He was already giving me hints like the old man was not in a good state of mind, simply put 'nuts'.

When I refused him the money and asked him leave the shop, he simply turned red. In a moment the old man emptied his pocket, which not only included a rich collection of coins but some heavier bills and on one of them I even thought I saw an old President of the United states.

He burst out with a string of words, (which after some home work I concluded, could be almost the filthiest you can come up with an unabridged Oxford English dictionary) but soon ended up in tears, words hardly coming out of his mouth. He proudly said his only son was in the US working for a multinational (whose name when spelt made my tongue twist to obtuse angles)and he needed no one else. He was now throwing the coins at me, yelling at me to take what ever I wanted. It took my storekeeper friend, two men from the next shop and a piece of chocolate to stop the old man. It wasn't the pain caused by the coins that hurt me (although it did that night) I somehow thought I had hurt the man. The old man left but only with a few more chocolates.

I was curious as hell about the professor and wanted to know something about him. I spent sometime with Ismail, who acknowledged the facts about the professor's son in the US. The son is married and supposedly has children but the last time he came around was almost five to six years ago although he still keeps in touch with his father through 'Western Union'(if you dont know what it is .. It is for money transfers). Ismail was largely indifferent even when he was telling me that the Professor had suffered enough anguish to get some quality education for his only son at some prestigious university in the US. Symptoms of his present condition has first appeared when the son married some one in the US and decided to settle down with Uncle Sam.

I went the next day to the professor’s house just out of curiosity, in the pretext of carrying water from Ismail’s shop. I thought his wife was too old to take care of herself, even as she busily went around with the chores. I picked up a conversation with her God knows how, and she couldn't but stop talking about her man in his prime. I left after sometime happy not just because I had a good cup of coffee but also because I thought at least there was this faithful Indian wife to stand by this man.

I almost left the house when I remembered the black cap that my girl friend had given me was inside the house. When I went back I saw her pulling the Physics Professor in a wet pair of pants to the washroom. She saw me but I pretended I hadn't seen her tears now almost on her wrinkled chin and cheerfully bid her a bye forgetting I had come to pick up my black cap.

A Dark Positive

For me this incident will always remain etched in my heart not just because it had a female playing the lead role as always.It happened when My Mom was admitted for a stroke last december at chennai.

This fine day there was very little to talk to my mother and then I had nothing to do, but roll my eyes around the ward. As my eyes went around, the third bed (My mom was on the first) I thought was unusually neat as the occupant sat on one corner looking at me and my Mom.I had seen the girl , young, in her teens, unusually thin, the bones very pronouncing and with a face that I was sure had been beautiful once. I hadn't bothered to ask my Mom about her since it isn't very strange for someone to be like her in a hospital.

Today I was curious and I asked my mom why she was in the Hospital. My Mom very casually said she had been tested positive for HIV. I thought something struck me hard on my chest. I felt a shiver run down even as I remembered that was the first time I had seen someone with HIV.I was scared to see her anymore and I sat with my back towards her.

She must have been smiling at my Mom because I saw my Mom smile towards her. Still Panic-stricken I somehow managed to look back only to see one of the most beautiful smiles I had ever seen.She stood up and walked up to my Moma's bed but stopped a little away. My Mother asked me to give her some biscuits, My face must have shown her I was scared, for she called the girl to the bed and gave her some biscuits herself. She almost grabbed the biscuits even as my Mom was telling her who I was, she only smiled at me. Mom said it was the last stages and she didn't have many days left. I too tried to smile but somehow I knew I was putting up a wretched face for I was trying to imagine how it is like to know, you only have a few days left on earth.

I lost my sleep that night but the next day I managed to give her something myself and I was almost lost when she smiled back. I also saw her father the same day who looked almost like her but for his unkempt hair and face.The next four days were the same for me in the hospital, I give her something, she flashes a smile, my mom talks with her something and she keeps smiling all through it. My Mom told me she never slept in the nights, she would simply lie down and look at the ceiling all through the night even as tears ran down her cheeks. How I wished I was capable of giving her more than just biscuits.

Next day I really was waiting for the evening to come and I even got her a small teddy. I was surprised when I saw the neatly laid but empty bed. I looked around too see if she was somewhere but only in vain. I felt my Mother's eyes were wet when she said the girl was discharged as the doctors had lost all hope and medicine was useless anymore. She would at the most see the next fortnite.
It started to choke as I felt a familiar shudder rock my body. It was sometime before I was very sure where I kept my leg. I was confused and I did not know what I was supposed to be doing. I walked awkwardly towards the bed, sat there for sometime even as my mother was looking at me surprised. I left the packed teddy on the bed and moved towards my mother. Tears filled up my eyes even as I remembered I had not spoken a word to her and neither had she.... I did not even know her name..

and to this day I am still wondering why a very weak word like 'hope' is used so synonymously with life.

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..

She..

Call it the Irony of life, harsh words on a hot summer afternoon, not in the worst sense the best fare of a first time date. But it was for me my first taste of a date on the 23rd of august, 2000. That was the first time I spoke to a cute small HER, asking her why she was dozing in the class. All I had for the answer were a few harsh words. From harsh words to casual talks, casual talks to serious senseless conversations, from foes to friends, times moved on for me. Five years since and miles away from her I am sitting here wondering how time has changed our destinies.
In these years many a times she has asked me why and how much I love her.. Should there be a better reason except that she loves me ? and it is as much as you love me.. just like you cannot fathom how much you love me.. I too cannot.. There were days when I used to wonder is this just a game of life and my age ? but when I think of her now and miss her, and when it chokes my breath, I suddenly seem to realize how much she has become a part of my life, my breath.
And here I am, writing to a no one my life's woes. Whatever, I still feel it is lovely to be loved, to be cared by someone who before some years was not even known to you!!! understood by someone you never even imagined existed a few years before!!!
It was wonderful while it lasted.. I only wish it wasn't a part of my past...

"En eruthi oorvalathil malargalai thoovungal, Aval pinchu pathangal ange varakoodum".
- en nanban oruvanoda kavithai... thanks machan!!!

Concern

Yesterday I was at the TVS bus terminus on the Mount road wearily waiting for my bus when my eyes caught up the silhoutte of a man who was walking on the pedistrian crossing even as the vehicles were given the green. Heavens!! He is hit by a speeding car,while i was still wondering if i was really awake. He was thrown away atleast a few yards and would have been run over if only the bus behind had not stopped to a screeching halt.

The crowd at the terminus scrambled around this man who was now soiled with his blood and the mud on the road. No one really was ready to lift him, he was still breathing and adjusting his scantily clad brawn. In the mean time the car that had hit him sped away silently. A police man rushed in and forced an auto to halt even as atleast five other autos had sped away at the sight of this man lying on the road.

I along with this cop and another guy shoved (we did shove) this man in to the auto. And when the policeman wanted a mobile to reach his control room the hotspot (as one of the mobile operators christened spencers) had no mobile phones. One lone guy offered his mobile but the control room was not reachable. when the call got through there was no good response which was clear from the desperate cop's voice. The autowala who must have just crossed his teens was already impatient and telling people of his woes.

Through all this I couldn't help noticing a girl hooked on to her mobile giggling through her conversation. The police man had to get on with his work at the signal as the traffic was getting congested and the auto was stranded in one corner with the victim still wincing in pain.

The crowd grew thinner and in five minutes the auto was alone with neither the cop, nor the auto wala around. Through all the noise on the road I could hear this man inside the auto grunting and moaning with pain. After almost half an hour and the man still in the auto, like everyone else I sneaked on to a bus and tried erasing the sight off my thought.

The Night came and went and I still am not even able to clear those dashing headlights from my eyes. When in the morning I got on to my bus I could swear every around me seemed to resemble the man I had seen on the road.