This incident goes back to December 18, 2003 at 03:15. The picture above shows the windows of my room (my parents place in Mumbai.)

My bed is about 3 meters away from the window. I left windows open at night but there was a window grill that kept us safe (or so we thought.) I’m a light sleeper, and wake up even if a needle drops! That night, some strange sounds ruffled my sleep. There are many sounds at night and I dismissed this disturbance too. But my eyes opened for a split second, and I glanced at the window.

The sight gave me the shock of my life.

The metal grill on the window had disappeared! The window looked like a big hole in the wall.

[Now let me explain. The windows are fitted with metal grills that have 3 screws fastened into the wooden frame on two holding sides. It is easy to unscrew them, remove the grill and enter the house. I've done this myself once when I forgot the keys. And now someone had done just that!]

So, I heard some noises, woke up in the middle of the night, saw my window opened and found a stranger next to my bed. What the heck was going on?

The intruder peered over my mosquito curtain (मच्छरदाणी) to see if I was awake. I froze. I shut my eyes so hard that they almost came out from the other side of my head. Have you heard the phrase “..was so scared, could hear his heart beat” or “…was so shocked that he couldn’t speak”? Ha! I experienced it! The intruder then scanned my desk, but found only thick volumes of Coulson & Richardson’s Chemical Engineering, which were probably the most expensive items in our house, but he didn’t know. He then went to the bedroom, where mom was asleep, via living room. I heard a familiar noise of the cupboard being opened.

After I told my heart to stop pounding and stop getting scared over an intruder, I started thinking (still lying in bed.) I had seen a wooden stick lying around and I got up and grabbed it. Probably useless since I couldn’t physically challenge that guy who was armed with god knows what. …He peered over the mosquito curtain to see if I was awake. I froze. I shut my eyes so hard that they almost came out from the other side of my hea…I went to the living room and opened the door of our apartment. It’s noiseless, and I can be quiet as a cat. I rang the neighbors’ doorbell. The lady (काकू) yelled from inside – “Who the hell is at the door at this hour?” (अीतक्या रात्री-अपरात्री कोण अालंय?) If I spoke, the thief would hear. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t get help. So I said, “its Priyank.”

thudd… thump… I heard noises from the bedroom, the thief probably heard me. Now I knew he would emerge from my parent’s bedroom, enter the living room, go to my room and escape from the window. Armed with a stick, I came back into the living room too. I saw him. Something mysterious got over me then. I screamed and hit him. With a force I never experienced ever, I hit his forearm.

The stick broke into two, the thief let out a frightening painful cry, but still somehow escaped, empty handed.

By now, mom woke up, the neighbors arrived, and then the usual stuff…

: : :
Last night I casually glanced at the window and this whole incident flashed in front of my eyes. Pretty interesting, huh!

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I have fond memories of the grass forest on the outskirts of my little suburban town (Dombivli). Many evenings were spent there – playing amidst itchy vegetation, mud, dirt, all varieties of insects, bugs and other yucky stuff. I’ll write about my adventures with bugs, earthworms, frogs, wild flowers and such other amazing creations of nature in some other post because this post is dedicated to the one and only चतुर (Chatur, meaning ‘clever’).

Chatur

Photo: Dhanashri Avalaskar

Chatur is called Dragonfly in English. Wikipedia says this: “Dragonflies typically eat mosquitoes, midges, and other small insects like flies, bees, and butterflies. They are therefore valued as predators, since they help control populations of harmful insects. Dragonflies do not normally bite or sting humans, though they will bite in order to escape, if grasped by the abdomen.”

The sport
One of our favorite ‘sports’ during monsoon was catching the Chatur. We usually caught the chatur and released it after displaying our conquest to mates. It was the coolest thing to do and scores were discussed next day at school. Catching a chatur is an art that requires an amazing combination of patience, precision, alertness and timing. A chatur will typically hover over a blade of grass for barely a second and then move on to the next. At the same time the chatur is quite sensitive to any motion in the surroundings, so an extraordinary amount of patience and steadiness is required while approaching it.

There are two ways to catch a chatur. The most common method is to grab the end of the chatur‘s long and tiny tail. The tail is used as a rudder so the chatur vibrates and turns it unexpectedly. After studying these movements for a while it becomes easy to read patterns. The other method – the one that I strongly disapprove – is to catch the chatur by its wings. I think this method is easy but barbaric because it could potentially break the little guy’s wings, render them useless and thus lead to the chatur‘s death. As a rule, we never could let any chatur die.

The Blue Chatur
On one such evening I was chasing a particular chatur when my attention was distracted by something blue and brilliant, fluttering inches away from my hand. It was possibly the most beautiful chatur I had seen lately. I left my current perusal and went after this little blue guy instead. After a bit of chasing I finally caught my prize!

I was holding the blue chatur‘s tail between my thumb and index finger while placing it gently on the palm of my other hand. It made some attempts in vain to flutter away. My friends gathered around excitedly and I narrated them a long (and probably fake) tale about how I caught it.

I was going to violate an unwritten rule of the grass forest –

“मी घरी घेउन जाणार आणि ह्याला पाळणार” (I will take it home and keep it as a pet), I announced.

My buddies didn’t care. In fact, they agreed because suddenly it was a treasured possession of our gang and it would be good to display the blue chatur at school tomorrow. The other gang at school has been bragging about their catch in some other secret grass forest lately and we had to beat them.

Suggestions poured in about how to keep the chatur safe overnight. I could either tie its tail to a string and fasten it to a window railing or put it in a box. I chose to put it in a large match box since I thought that was less brutal. Then I inserted a twig of tender grass for the insect’s dinner (I didn’t know that it was a non-vegetarian). Content with the hospitality, I put the box away in my school bag and went to bed looking forward eagerly to the next day. I was soooo excited about my new pet that I woke up in the middle of the night to check if it was doing okay. It was, I loved my new pet!

I rushed to the school after checking that the chatur was still safe inside the box. I and my buddies decided to talk this thing up and create suspense among the classmates before we showed them the real thing. The plan was working well so far – everyone in the class was looking forward to seeing the mysterious blue dragon fly. Dude this was going to be awesome!!

No sooner than the recess bell rang, everyone gathered around me. Very ceremoniously and taking extra extra extra care I started opening the box gently while telling everyone how it was impossible to catch this rare species, how it bit me, blah blah (ah, I am was such a drama queen). I finally opened the box… viola!!

There were screams of excitement from my peers! Lots of wow’s, compliments and admiration. My buddies were proud of ‘our’ catch but…

….but I was choking; I felt like someone ripped my heart out of my body and there was just a void there. My eyes were wet and I started shivering…

My beautiful new pet was lying in the box,..
Lifeless.

And that was the last time I caught a चतुर.

Summer is brutal in central India so streets were usually deserted until 17:00, after which cooler breeze started blowing. This particular day, A was extremely bored because even A’s cousins decided to join the adults for siesta. It was no fun playing in water alone or throwing pebbles at raw mangoes or discussing strategies to conquer the world. A decided to venture out, disobeying the orders of the elders.

It was rather difficult to take out the little bike silently, so A sneaked out of the creaking gate on foot. Temperatures were around 40 C and the sun was spewing heat akin to fire from a dragon’s mouth, which A related to the cartoon in yesterday’s नई दुनिया (Nai Duniya – a Hindi newspaper). Tucked in a corner a little distance away was a small store, which in A’s opinion was world’s most wonderful store – it had candy, toys and comic books – what else do humans need?

A was thrilled to enter the store; it was the first time A was going there unaccompanied. A saw the newest edition of चाचा चौधरी (Chacha Chaudhary – a popular Hindi comic book) and A had to have it before anyone else did. It was A different matter that the book was in Hindi and A could not read Hindi properly yet. In Maharashtra, Hindi is taught from grade 5, but since Marathi is taught from grade 2 and Bollywood’s Urdu Hindi cultural imperialism is overpowering, A could understand some stuff in the book. A was anyway more interested in the pictures of fights between Nora, the poison man and Sabu, the giant from Planet Jupiter (चाचा चौधरी और जहरीला इंसान नोरा (Chacha Chowdhari and the poison man Nora – Hindi edition).

A picked up the book and went to the guy at the cashier, who had a big moustache and a pot belly. The guy smiled and said “३ रुपए”(Three rupees) Oh, but A didn’t carry any money! A wanted the book so that A could brag about both – buying a book and reading the latest issue. The thought of the inability to do so and finding no solution around, A was on the verge of tears. A didn’t know what to do. The world is evil, who invented money?

A tiny voice from somewhere squeaked, “मेरी वाली पढ़ लेना” ([you] can read my copy)

With a jerk, A excitedly turned the neck around before the body could turn – like the kathak dancer. There was another nine-ten year old, dressed in red, and having a typical pre-pubescent tender feminine voice. A caught sight of the Chacha Chowdhary book being waived enthusiastically.

“साथ साथ पढते है?” (Shall we read it together?)
“हॉं” (yes) A said

…and suddenly the world was a better place.

The two kids trotted to a park adjacent to the store. The hot wind was burning their soft skins like tender wood in a furnace, but both of them were eager to read the comic book. They found a bench under a tree, but the tree was not leafy, making the bench too hot and uncomfortable. A had this bright idea. Pointing to a shady place under a giant tree A said:

“उधर चल” (lets go there) (Not A Hindi speaker, and on top of that A Mumbaikar. do you expect correct Hindi?)

“क्या हम जमीन पर बैठेंगे?” (do you want us to sit on the ground?)

A didn’t understand that long sentence. So A simply ran to that place, cleared the dry leaves with little feet and gestured an invitation (I think A loved nature and outdoors since childhood).

In the blistering heat of peak Indian summer, two kids, away from home were spending some lovely time together reading their favourite comic book.

After reading the first chapter in which Nora the poison man enters the city and creates terror by killing people, the two kids paused and started talking.

“तेरा नाम क्या है?” (What is your name?) A asked

“X. और तुम्हारा?”

“A”

“कहॉं से हो?”(Where are you from?)

“मुंबई, तु?”(Mumbai, you?)

“….” (it was some place nearby)

After a while, X said, “मुझे चलना होगा ईससे पहले की मॉं चिंता करने लगे। मुझे केवल यह लेना था।” (I have to leave before mother starts worrying. I just had to buy this) pointing at the book.

A was devastated. A didn’t want this to end yet. Time seemed to have stopped and A wanted this moment to go on and on.

“लेकिन बाकी है…” (but there’s some left [to read] – in broken Hindi) A said sadly.

“कोई बात नहीं, तुम रख लो। इंदौर के दोस्त की तरफ से भेंट समझ लेना।”(No worries, you can keep this as a gift from your friend from Indore)

A was speechless… A wanted to take the book, but hesitated to do so. X insisted that A keep it. X grabbed A’s hand, thrust the comic book and was ready to leave.

Almost automatically, A uttered, “फिर कब मिलनेका?” (When do we meet next?)

X thought about it for A while and said – “कल मिलते है, यहीं पर।” (lets meet tomorrow, same place)

“ठीक है।” (alright)

Maybe X was unwilling to leave, but had to. As they were going away, A and X looked at each other and their eyes caught a moment, almost like they show in the movies. Although they had met barely an hour back, there was clearly something special between them, which made no sense. Intuitively, they hugged each other tightly. The hug lasted for a fraction of a second, what A thought was no less than a millennium. A could feel the soft hair and smell the musky body odour of X and this was the best feeling A ever experienced. It was new, and therefore very confusing. What was happening?

X left.

A stood there. Just stood there watching X go away. A wanted to run and catch X and talk to X again, but somehow A’s feet were rooted to the ground. A was choking with emotions, unable to say even a “bye”. Then A returned home, unable to understand what just happened.

What just happened? Was it love? Was X some kind of evil magician who lured young kids like the fairy tale story? A never felt this way before. These feelings were confusing. Really really confusing.

[Everyone at home was already worrying. I am sparing you (readers) of all the details, which should be quite evident]
But A didn’t care. A’s mind was filled with excitement and anticipation of the next day.

The next day:
A got up early morning, much to everyone’s surprise. A was disinterested in playing hide-n-seek or Ludo with cousins. A went to the kitchen thrice to ask when the lunch was going to be ready. A was eager to finish the lunch and go out. A’s mother on the other hand was busy packing. They had a train to board on the same day – Avantika Express.

A, so naïve, told mother that it was very important to go to the store again today afternoon and it was a question of life and death (this probably came from a recent movie A watched).

“आपण उद्या जाउया, आज नको.” (We’ll go tomorrow, not today), A announced.

“अरे पण आपलं reservation आहे ना, आज गेलंच् पाहिजे, परवा पासून शाळा सुरु होणार ना.” (But dear, we have a reservation today and your school starts a day after, remember? We have to leave today.) Mom tried to explain the facts.

“मी नाही येणार, तुच् जा. मला नाही जायचं, मला दुपारी त्या दुकानात जायचय X ला भेटायला.” (I wont go, you can go if you want. I must go to the shop today afternoon to meet X)

Man proposes God disposes. A threw tantrums around the house, cried and screamed loudly, use every possible convincing strategy A’s little brain could think of.

But the fact remained that A had to leave. Summer vacation was over and it was time to go back to own lives. But… why did all of this have to happen today???

It was the end of the world for A, there was just, just no point living further. A cried and cried until A ran out of tears. These elders just don’t understand important things.

So A went back to Mumbai with the book firmly held close to heart.

….And never saw X again.

Today, A is 26 years old. Lots of such X’s appeared and disappeared from A’s life. But this incident was a defining moment in A‘s life – nothing was the same again, and will never be.

- – -
No points for guessing who A is

And thou shant be lonely ever again….

There are some things in life which are priceless. This piece of paper with that message scribbled on it by my best buds V & R is one of those things.

So this one day (29-June) we were returning from some place after doing some shit. And for some reason, despite not having taken any caffeine (in the liquid form), the testosterone levels in the group were running high. I don’t remember how, but as natural as it would sound for three 24/25 year old guys to talk about the ‘feeling of closeness‘ (you know what I mean ), we drifted to this topic.

After talking nonsense for a while and almost to the point of getting bored, suddenly at the next signal this car drew up next to ours and there was a pretty lady in it. When I mean pretty, I mean an ideal candidate for giving the feeling of closeness mentioned above. Needless to say, a car chase began. However, the fourth buddy, who was driving the car was too diligent a driver and conveniently ignored our provocations to chase that blonde bombshell (cliché).

Damn! we lost her.

So again, as natural as it would sound for three 24/25 year old guys, we started planning our next move. Also, as natural as it would sound for three MBA students neck deep into school load, we started talking about identifying the target, optimizing the process, increasing the efficiency, communicating concise message, blah blah blah…

Then something happened, I don’t quite recollect (or I’m simply lying because I’m too embarrassed to post it here). My friends fished out a piece of paper (which was actually an assignment graded a day before) and scribbled those words on the back of it. For those who are fussy about bandwidth and surf the internet with images switched off, here is the complete text:

Lonely Tonight?
Contact Puku At:
[my telephone number]
And its free !!!

Before I knew, another potential candidate to give that feeling of closeness appeared and this newly created banner, aka personal ad was waived at her.

Predictably, we lost that car too, and we were nearing the student residences. Shit!

I was being a bitch that day, and V & R were determined to victimize me. Again something happened and I don’t quite remember it, but my buddies threatened that they’d post this ‘ad’ on the bulletin board of our apartment. Since I’m extra smart, I challenged them to do it anyway.

They did it. They actually did it.

This advertisement was posted on the bulletin board of my apartment, without me knowing about it.

So, dear V & R, after say five years when we will be in different places doing different things, this will be one of the memories we’ll always cherish. (A melodramatic dialog pops out)

Vaarun adds:
Its just fun to grind your bud’s so called societal status into the ground, isnt it? And a challenge is a challenge is a challenge…

Rahul and myself, we put this poster up on the main entrance to Puku’s massive apartment building. We then pinned him to the ground, cause he was trying to get the poster off. In a matter of moments, a girl came toward the building with her guy, looked at the poster and burst into peels of laughter! She din’t know that the “Puku” from the notice board was the same guy that was pinned down, and looking completely red in the face! The fellow got rid of the poster that night, but I wish some folks we knew from school had seen it.

Rahul would have loved to add but currently he is busy with Porter’s 5 force model, which is instructing him to ignore trivial stuff like this.

Notes:
1. Puku is my popular name, but you wouldn’t know that unless you’ve read this post
2. I appeal to female chauvinists or self-declared moralists to hold their breath. This wasn’t as bad as it sounds.

I’m going to miss the life of a [tag]work[/tag]ing man. I surely am.

I’m going to miss the bus ride to office, I’m going to miss the [tag]cubicle[/tag] and my [tag]desk[/tag], I’m going to miss the free telephone, printing and scanning facilities, I’m going to miss the arguments and discussions, I’m going to miss the endless [tag]meetings[/tag], I’m going to miss the pressing deadlines, I’m going to miss the bar charts, I’m going to miss the occasional pizza with the [tag]project[/tag] manager, I’m going to miss the long chats over cups of tea, I’m going to miss my colleagues, I’m going to miss the receptionist.

But the most important thing I’m going to miss is – my [tag]paycheck[/tag]! (No points for guessing this)

Snapshot from ‘[tag]Primavera[/tag] Project Planner (P3)’… P3 is the software all planners swear by. ‘Microsoft Projects (MSP)’ comes next.

See, the problems are simple to address at a local level instead of dragging them into the interdisciplinary meetings. Half of these would never arise should the concerned people speak to each other. But they never do.

Here’s another situation.

LE (utterly frustrated): Is this planning?
Me: uh… what’s wrong?
LE: The schedule says I have to finish piping study by Friday next week. But the [tag]Project Manager[/tag] says I’m holding up Civil Engineering work, and I should finish it a week early.
Me: Oh. Is that possible? You are also working on the Layouts simultaneously, isn’t it?
LE: Yes. That’s the philosophy we agreed with.
I rush to the PM with him.
Me: Sir, the Piping LE says…
PM: Yes, he is working on the studies too slowly. We should finish it earlier; else it will delay Civil work.
Me: Sir it won’t. The civil contractor mobilization at site is not until next month. The site will require the foundation drawings at least a fortnight after mobilization starts. That’s a long time away.
PM: But he can finish early, can’t he?
Me: He is doing some other activities parallel to the studies.
LE: I’m also working on the layouts simultaneously. Although this is slow, it will avoid the rework at a later stage.
Me: Plus, we have sufficient time with us. Even if the guys finish a week later, we keep a 10 days [tag]float[/tag] for civil activity.
PM: Then why not give them another week?
Me: That would affect the 3D model work which is already on the [tag]critical path[/tag], and also passing of loads to Civil for preliminary column and beam calculations.
PM: Okay then Let’s stick to the schedule.

People sometimes have this nasty habit of interfering in others’ work. If my schedule has been checked thoroughly and approved, let me handle it from there. I may not know the invoices, costing and client relations – something that the PM looks after, or technical engineering work – which the disciplines do, but I know what goes in, what goes out and the sequence of operations surrounding any activity in the project.

Ah how dearly I am going to miss these wonderful days.

I happened to visit my college for a couple of times this month, right during the submission period. I went there as an ex-student, free from all barriers and restrictions. But the buzz sure gave me a nostalgic feel – students standing in queues waiting for precious signatures on their bulky files containing the term work, practical records and exam answer papers.

So while I went around meeting my lecturers in their laboratories and offices, I attracted agitated expressions from the kids (students) standing in long queues outside the offices. Any disruption in flow is disastrous, and I was sort of interrupting their course. I was forced to be as brief as possible in exchanging courtesies with the lecturers, and I promised to see them later.

Little did I know how useful these sessions of submissions would be to me after I graduate. There are lot of tactics and strategies you work out to get your files signed. If you commit mistakes in the file, there are ways to divert the lecturers’ attention. Sometimes you miss out an entire section, yet manage to scrape through. The groundwork and planning is required right from day one. By the time we reach seventh semester, many of us are ‘submission champions’ and we consider getting a signature on an incomplete file as a challenge.

Engineering is not a game for the weak hearted. Many may survive through it, but few come out smelling sweet.