Life In a Non Metro!

The Indian Govt does not classify Bangalore or rather Bengalooru as a Metropolitan city. Though statistics show that it is the 3rd most populous city and the 5th largest metropolitan area in the Indian sub-continent.

Either way, when I initially moved into this city I literally had stars in my eyes. I was just another S/W Engr. but Bangalore held the city-charm over me since I was a kid as I am from a small town where there is little/no life outside the family. So Bangalore to me was, to be frank, Life in a City!

I loved the place and was moving in there. What more could I want?

But, it was really nothing that I had dreamed of. It was just the same. The only thing that was different was the cost of living. But I made my peace with that as I'm single. The one thing that I did like about the city were the auto-wallahs. I paid them the minimum charge to travel almost double of the distance at my hometown for which I usually shelled out Rs 50. But then even this was snatched away when, for the first time, I hailed an auto at 9:30 pm to catch a bus for the journey home over the weekend.

"50 rupai" (50 rupees)

"Huh???" (I gave my dumb-struck reaction at the amount he was demanding. It was more than 4 times the usual rate.)

"10 baj gaye" (It's 10 'o' clock)

Panic stricken, I checked my watch and saw the minute needle wavering between 6 and 7 while the hour needle was wavering between 9 and 10.

"Kahan? 9:30 hi hai" (How come? Its only 9:30)

"Nahin madam, nahin aatha" (No madam, not acceptable)

As I struggled to weigh the pros and cons, he started moving and I panicked. My bus was at 10:00!!! I stopped him and jumped inside the auto. All through the short journey I wondered if he had truly taken me for a ride. I got down at the bus stop and absently put a 50 rupee note in his hand. I immediately dialled some friends and cross-checked. To my infinite relief, I was assured that it was OK and this is how it worked in B'lore after 8:00 pm.

The same trend continued in all other future journeys that were undertaken after 8:00 pm. Shopping trips...Late night movie shows...Late dinners...or just general gypsying-around in the town. My purse dutifully supplied the money that I handed over to the auto-wallahs with a slight pang, every time. To be fair, I also did make some lucrative journeys in autos fitted with the latesht electronic meter. I always paid Rs. 5 less (as per the meter) in the latesht ones as compared to the (old) manual meters.

It was much, much, much later that I came across a true-good-at-heart auto-bhaiyya. Frankly speaking, he was more of a uncle. I mean, he was middle-aged. Anyways, it was 8:30 am on that fateful day and my roomie was just back from a weekend stay at her aunt's place. She rushed in, loaded with her overnight bags.

"A... tumhare paas change hai?" (Do you have change?)

"Purse mein hai, le lena" (Its in the purse)

I was putting on final touches to my appearance as I prepared to take the late shuttle to office. From the corner of my eye, I saw my roomie rummage inside my handbag and pick up my purse and rush out. I checked myself for the last time and picking up my coffee mug, went to the kitchen to dump it in the sink. I returned to the room to exchange a few tit-bits of news and bidding her ba-bye, I picked up my bag and left to catch an auto to take me to the bus stop for the late shuttle.

I walked out into the street and found an auto almost immediately. I jumped inside after giving him instructions and then proceeded to imagine (read as day-dream) myself at some vague point in the future, driving around in a red colour Maruti SWIFT. I kept up this steady stream of dreams (Hey! Am I mistaken or did that sentence rhyme?) until the auto pulled over and I saw that I had reached. I stepped out, still slightly immersed in the day-dreams and absently felt for my purse in its usual place in my handbag. I did not find the reassuring bundle and proceeded to search again, this time looking down and concentrating on trying to find it. To my horror, I realised that my purse was NOT in my handbag.

My roomie must have forgotten to put it back. And the fool that I am, I didn't even think to check! Hell! I looked up into the lined face of the auto-wallah. I gulped nervously and told him.

"Bhaiyya...woh...purse...main...bool...gayi" (Dude, I've forgotten my purse)

He smiled... "Kya???"

Aaaarrrghh! Did I look like I was joking?

"Paise nahin hai bhaiyya...purse bool gayi" (No money dude, I've forgotten my purse)

He stopped smiling and his face hardened, slightly.

Ahan! He heard me loud and clear now. Phew! At least he knows whats going on.

All through this conversation, my hand kept rummaging inside the purse absently. Suddenly, I felt some notes. I looked down eagerly and saw some food coupons! Darn it! But, hey wait...maybe...

"Aap yeh rakh li jiye na...koi bhi hotel mein le lenge...paise ki tarah hi hai...khaane ke liye de sakte ho" (Can you take this instead? Its food coupons you can use in hotels. Just like money. But only for eatables)

I kept talking as I tried to explain to him the concept of food coupons. He didn't seem interested with a couple of brightly printed paper slips depicting a girl sipping cappuccino from a huge F.R.I.E.N.D like coffee mug.

"Jaane dijiye..." (Its OK. Forget it.)

Instead of making me feel relieved, it only made me feel more guilty. I tried again and again to make him accept the food coupons. He refused, this time with a small smile and reassured me that it was really OK. I was dumb-struck. Who is this guy? I continued to mutter explanations about how I had forgotten and how sorry I was and how he can REALLY use the food coupons and that they were not fake and what not!!! He brushed it all aside and said it was OK. That's it. Just that. "IT'S OK"

"Nahin..nahin...chaliye...jaane dijiye" (No, no, come on...its OK...forget it)

With this parting reassurance, he sped off to find his next savari (client). I stood on the road for a full two minutes, still clutching the food coupons while my mind raced to try and believe what had just happened. I then realised that I had a bus to catch. I began half-running, half-walking to cover the short distance to the bus stop while simultaneously crumpling and stuffing the coupons back into the handbag. I reached the bus stop safely and found the usual known-strangers (bus-mates) waiting there and I lounged against the railing with a sigh. Phew! That was close!

The rest of my journey was uneventful and I did reach office on-time. I ruefully related the days events to my teammates and even called up friends to tell them of my little adventure. Oh yeah, I called my roomie too and she sorry-fully told me that she had forgotten to put the purse back and had left it lying on the bed onto which I had promptly dumped my wet towel before I stepped out.

Through the day the face of that auto wallah persisted in coming back to me. Till date I remember him every time I step into an auto and I have made up my mind that if I do happen to run into him again, I would dutifully and gladly give him a good bakshish.

I wish there were more auto wallahs like him and less idiots like me. The world would be a much better place then. Wait...I'm getting too dramatic here...what I mean to say is that Bangalore would certainly be a much better place.

Darn It!

Hell!

I've missed it!

My eyes were focused on just two lines in the messenger window as I stared savagely...

"pls call me in case you have any queries as I am leaving for the day
try to execute whatever test cases possible...thanks"

LEAVING FOR THE DAY!!!!!!!!

THAT'S NOT FAIR!!!!!

:(

My PL had escaped...leaving me to deal with work that I had no clue about. Not because I don't know my work, but because I am still new to this project and am struggling (ONLY a little, mind you) in trying to figure out the nuances of workflow here...

My last project was NOTHING great. I worked unearthly hours, became darker than I already was and put on a hell lot of weight and of course lost contact with ALL my friends. It wasn't until I saw a random picture taken in come treat-party and shockingly realised how careless I had been about myself. I then went on a control-diet wherein you don't stop eating or eat diet foods or whatever. I just cut down on rice completely and started taking the mere two flights of stairs to my office floor and well believe me or not, it worked its own wonders. I lost all the EXTRA pounds. As to the spoilt complexion (not that it was much really, in the first place) I went back to my old-baby-time-routine...a good massage with "nal ennai" (sesame oil) followed by a generous face-pack of "kadalai maavum thayirum" (besan with yogurt). My complexion too revived and went back to its humble original ruddiness... :) MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!!!!

Wait...why am I typing all this?

What am I saying in this post actually?

Oh yeah...I missed my BUS... :(

Like I was saying, my last project was terrible. I had a psychotic PL just one year my senior who did his utmost best to do NO work and his utmostest best (if I may be allowed to use such a double-superlative) to make life pure hell for ALL of us with the exception of his two chamchas who called him "annan" (big brother).

$%^#*!

Sorry about the last word. I cant help but hold my thumb over the shift key and thump at the numbers (for special characters) when I think of that DASH. Anyways, I survived and finally when eventually the project crashed (which it had to with that DASH for a PL) my entire team with the exception of the two chamchas (obviously!) had a wonderful meeting where we shouted it all out at him and took it off our chest. Not that he kept quiet, though. He threw his abuses at us as soon as we started the so-called "discussion" and we weren't going to let him rant on. We interrupted, spoke, shouted, screamed (in that order cause you see, we weren't as DASH as him) and did all that we had been wanting to do for a really, really, really long time. He took special pleasure in jibing at me continuously and I took even more pleasure in talking back and making it very clear that he was as much important to me as a piece of #$%^ stuck to the hem-line of my dress! But everything said and done I loved all the others in the team. It was after all my first project and I made many friends there. And that last meeting showed us all how we had united against the DASH. :)

Well, I moved out and joined another project which seemed to fit exactly into anyone's dream of a s/w engineer's work. I come to office at 11 am and leave at 8:00 pm with nice coffee breaks and lunch hours. Plus more importantly, the work is good. I work on the latest tools and learn so much from the much more experienced team-mates. I am still learning how it works in-here and proof of that is the fact that my new PL tends to go-missing sometimes without warnings :(

How ironical!

In my last project this is what ALL of us wished for, though it never happened!!!

D Day!

Well...here it is...

My very first blog...

Guess this boring day in office had to finally come to this...

I have been so jobless since Diwali in November and guess its going to continue this way for another couple of weeks...I have got my next allocation but "work" in its true sense hasn't started yet...but well I do have a system which I can fiddle around with...I've been Googl(e)ing, Wikiying since lunch and I've become so bored of even that and well so here I am...blogging...

OK...I believe in a little anonymity on the web and so let me give some very little details about moi!

I am a compulsive dreamer and an incurable romantic...added to the fact that I am impulsive, passionate (as in temper/temperament), shop-o-holic, ice-cream-a-holic, choc-o-holic and not to brag but on the blessed side as regards looks....

I will never call myself beautiful cause in spite of all the adjectives used above, one adjective that I will never use to describe me is vain...but I do take the liberty to address myself as pretty, adorable, sweet-looking and the like from time to time... :)

A typical Southie (and proud to be one!) I spent the major part of my life in a small, quaint little town down south with my small family...my childhood was almost perfect and my adolescence and teen life was spent being cluelessly dreamy and ignorantly romantic about the various "dreams" and "aspirations" of that age...my graduation was along the same lines with a few major changes...all through I had a wonderful time knowing and learning about myself...

I was brought up to believe (and understand) that once I get a professional education/degree, I would have to pick and choose (not that I would have much choice, really) from amongst a list of pre-chosen and pre-approved guys, marry that fated being and settle down in life. Oh yeah, they would be expecting kids in the first year itself. They meaning my parents, my grand-parents, my uncles, my aunts, my cousins...etc. And believe it or not, I was gleefully and happily looking forward to it. It wasn't until my pre-final year of graduation I decided to start a self-exploratory journey. To know me better. To know what I want from life. To know what I would give back. To know what on earth am I doing in this life. So on and so forth...its been two years since then and I know I wouldn't have gotten so far if I hadn't made that one crucial decision...

And that being the fact that I saw my own sister succumb to such a life and I realised I would die rather than be in her shoes. Fine, she had a loving husband and I'm not lying here. My brother-in-law dotes on my sister, is very romantic, sweet, nice, everything that a girl could want. Yet I hesitated to step in to the same kind of life. Me, the person who imagined and planned even the colour and type of bindi I would wear for my reception and the menu (the foodie that I am!) that would be served and what not! I suddenly remembered about a little girl who wanted to be alone. Who wanted to know what homesick meant. Who wanted to suffer by eating unpalatable food in some god-forsaken hostel/PG. Who wanted to lie alone in the room suffering in fever with no one to ask "What happened to you?". I wanted all this. And more.

I wanted to see a business card with my name on it. I wanted to see monthly bank statements with a lump-some amount in it. I wanted to see that same money disappear and stack up in the form of shopping bills and eat-out bills. I wanted to have a tag around my neck that i would proudly show-off and remove only after entering my room. I wanted to be MYSELF!

I fought. I cried. It dint work.

I started telling scaring stories of girls who made bad marriages. It dint work. (My sister was there to prove that wrong, she had made a wonderful marriage)

I rejected all the guys whom my parents put in front of me. It dint work. They found more.

Then, somehow before I knew it, I was shopping to leave home for my job. And then before that would end I was on a train waving goodbye and bravely gulping down tears. And then I had it all. All that I listed out before. And now...now what? Its like that Amul AD...

"I WANT MORE!"

I have been working since then for the past two years...and guess it was destined to be this fateful day that i would pen these things on a blog...on yet another boring day at office!