The other day I was seated in a bus, listening to music and reading a book. Like any other regular person, I didn’t know who was sitting next to me. I only looked around when my neighbor nudged me gently.
“Hi! Sorry, You got time?” It was an elderly lady.
(Translation: You got time? = What is the time? I have no idea why people use this phrase.)
“Yeah, sure.” I told her the time and got back to my reading.
“You know, one of these days I am going to have a heart attack and fall on the street and nobody’s gonna notice.”
(HUH! I couldn’t believe she was actually talking to me. Wearing headphones is as good as putting up a huge ‘Do not disturb’ sign.)
I acknowledged hearing that and got back to my book.
“The other day I was walking and I needed to ask someone for directions but I looked around, everyone was wearing earphones. I felt like I am walking alone in the city. There wasn’t anybody I could talk to.”
Although irritated, now I was very curious to hear her. Removing my headphones, I asked, “Why not?”
“You know, everyone is in their own world, nobody wants to talk and if they are wearing earphones, I don’t want to interrupt and annoy them.”
(Except that she did that to me just a minute ago. Nevermind.)
“What if an ice block is falling on the sidewalk? If I see, I will shout for the next person but its useless because he is wearing earphones.”
(During winter, snow accumulates on top of windows, turns into ice and crashes on the pavement below. It is hazardous indeed.)
“I just wished people listened to me. I’m glad you did, sorry to bother you, you seemed like a nice guy.”
“Uh, thanks.” I got off at my stop, shaken with the problem of the aged and unable to fully understand what just happened.
What do you think?
- She is an old lady. Probably she doesn’t have anyone to talk to.
- She is used to being ignored by others.
- She wasn’t interested in knowing the time. She simply wanted to talk to someone.
There are so many problems in our society. Some visible, most invisible.
The view of the window from that night is printed in my memory…
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 apologise for making frequent design changes to my blog. I intend to keep this one for a long time. Meanwhile, if you tried to subscribe by e-mail before, it probably didn’t work. Please try again. Thanks!
“Your website looks great, do you use Dream weaver?”
I get that question sometimes and it always used to bother me. But I don’t get annoyed anymore. Instead, I quote the following story:
::::
A photographer was invited to a dinner and he took along some photographs to show the hostess. She looked at the photos and commented, “These are very good! You must have a good camera!“
He didn’t make any comment at that time, but as he was leaving to go home he said, “That was a really delicious meal. You must have some very good pots!“
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Lance Armstrong, in his book It’s Not About the Bike, wrote a whole page describing some neat features of his cutting-edge bike. That description alone would make a bike enthusiast like me quiver. But he concluded it saying (paraphrased) – “But at the end, it’s not about the bike!“
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I worked for 3 years as a project planner. People’s standard question was: “Do you need to know Primavera and Microsoft Projects to become a planner?” (those are the two leading project management software.) I wish I could say “Yes”. A planner, like Isaac Asimov’s Hari Seldon, accumulates current data, examines macro/micro factors and uses historical behavior to predict the future. I wish it was as simple as clicking some “Tools > Plan Now!” button.
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I thought of the following people while I was composing this post. They (I think) get lots of comments about their ‘art’. Care to tell me:
° Nita, Prax, Bob – If online research is one mouse click away, why don’t we find blogs that are comprehensively researched as yours? Do you think that research is an art and online resources are mere tools? Taking it one step further, how much do you think have certain tools helped you become a journalist, stock market specialist and an astrophysicist respectively?
° Rambodoc – How much of today’s medical marvel is attributed to the surgeon’s instruments? (I desisted from using the word ‘tool’ – some readily available fodder for your twists that would occur anyway 
)
° Shantanu – About software tools and Dilbert’s talent! You are also welcome to add a story about chefs and foods!
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For a long time, I thought that I needed a brand new Sitar from Kolkata and only then I could play some awesome music. Fortunately, few months back I met some guru who plays the Sarod. He picked up my Sitar and played something beautiful casually.
“Wow! I didn’t know you played the Sitar too!” I said.
“No, ofcourse I don’t…. But I know the basics of music! 
“
I regret not meeting him before. But hey, its never too late
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To end this non-travel post, I leave you with a quote from J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
If you are a wizard you will be able to channel your magic through almost any instrument. The best results, however, must always come where there is a strongest affinity between wizard and wand… An initial attraction, and then a mutual quest for experience, the wand learning from the wizard, the wizard from the wand.
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Question to the reader: I think that it doesn’t really matter what tool you choose to express your talent. If you are not the right person (by birth or by training), the tool won’t make you one. What do you think? Any stories?
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