The Enlightened Driver-2

Missed the fun start? click here!

Well if you guessed he went straight, then you're spot on! But then again since the driver is enlightened as I would call him, he screeched the brakes 55 feet away from the fork. Then he reversed all the way back...on the highway...back to the fork and exited into Salem. Our story continues from here for today.
                      After entering Salem, the old man was determined to get off at the office, make a compliant and hopefully get the damn driver replaced. But all this was only if we got to the office right? The driver stopped the bus in the middle of the evening traffic and started asking,
"Hey! You! Do you know where the KPN office is?" The old man straight slapped his forehead and I watched the mocking pedestrians as they answered. At first they'd look at the bus and its name KPN blodly written across, and then at the driver and sigh. Yes, I was officially embarrassed too. It's not like we never made it to the office, the point is that it didn't help much.
"Please sir, I need to make it to a puja on time for which I've paid out of my nose. Please change the driver" pleaded the poor old man clutching his belongings to his chest. The rest of us seconded it loudly and listened.
"That and all can't be done! And don't anger the driver! Who know? Maybe he'll drive so fast and kill you!"
"If he does that much also i'll be happy! But this fool is good for nothing!" We tried but in vain and so we stomped back to the bus and sat there hoping for a miracle while the driver entered into towns and asked the same question about the office. What came next was worse...
                      He hadn't stopped for tea, for breaks, or for dinner so I clearly knew it when the bus was at stand still. Rubbing my eyes out, I parted the curtains to my left. A bridge specked with yellow lights merrily danced along slowly. Suddenly I blinked twice and sat upright. I turned to the right where the old man was finally getting some sleep like the rest of the passengers, the cleaner boy included. I got out of my seat and walked front; the rest of the vehicles were on that bridge...so what were we doing here?
'What did he do now?' I thought out aloud.
 There wasn't a soul behind us, and in front of us?  I pushed through the door that parted the cabins and a wave of noise washed into the sleeping bus.
"Are you mentally impaired? Didn't you think just for once why all the vehicles are on that bridge and not on this?" A police guard was yelling against a bunch of reflecting barricades, his hands trying to keep themselves from slapping our driver.
"Why do we put 'Closed' boards? So such intelligent people like you won't get onto this damaged bridge! You think you're so smart? Insane..."
                A crumbling bridge, five panicking passengers, half way left for destination, and one enlightened driver. What happens next?

Read more on the next post :)

The Enlightened Driver

Though this happened technically to my mother, I have decided its a story worth sharing; the reason why I'm writing it after months is that I stopped laughing about it just now!


Marriages in the family is like default presence or deal with the consequences, so I made it a point to get there somehow. I had to travel from Bangalore all the way down south to a village in Tamil Nadu called Mayavoram. The KPN bus reached the pick up point an hour and half late... but that's a tradition they follow. Our story starts after the bus left. 
              The screens were drawn and the glass doors cut off the traffic noise from out side. The five passengers in the bus stretched out and started waiting out the time.  Two hours passed and I peered out to realize we were still in a place that we should have crossed in half an hour from departure. An elderly man got up from behind me, marched upfront to the driver. At first they were whispering, and then the dialogues jolted me from my snooze mode. 
"Why can't you just press on the accelerator a bit more?"
"Sir, I'm going as fast as I can" the driver replied. 
"40km/hr is not fast! Just look out the window... trucks are overtaking us, cars are overtaking... even the freaking bikes are overtaking us!" I wished the old man couldn't have a heart attack.
"Sir I can't drive fast without being sure of the route" came the reply. It felt as though even my world would crash at that minute.
"What????? Are you kidding me? What do you mean you don't know the route?" The old man raised his voice as well his hands.
"He means he doesn't know where we're going" The cleaner boy entered into the conversation.
"Well do you at least know it?" the old man asked the cleaner boy.
"Nope" he said coolly. My eyes popped out. This was getting weird and seriously serious.
"Is this a joke? I paid to be driven by a driver who doesn't know the route? And you" he yelled at the cleaner boy.
"What kind of a cleaner are you? If you can't help or make this man go faster you might as well go and sleep!" Surprisingly enough that's just what he proceeded to do.
" Okay I'll tell you the route! And you better follow my instructions. Where have you driven before?"
"Sir to Palzani"
"Good. You have to cross Salem to go to Palzani. So first go there! And for God's sake accelerate!"
              With the poor old man cussing and yelling, the bus looked like it was finally making progress. But if he returned to his seat, the driver would dip back to 40km/hr and so I joined and  it went on for hours till there came a fork. One was the exit to Salem, the other was the highway towards Coimbatore. With both of us yelling to take the left, what do you think the enlightened driver did?

Wanna know? Click here!

Pretentious Glory

She looked him up after years,
Knots were untied and new ones made,
Yet she couldn't see him through those tears,
As her unhealed scars refused to fade.

She shrugged and looked at herself next,
Saw her smile carved onto a face of rock,
Felt a lump in her throat, go down her neck
Shut the feelings and quickly cast a lock.

How long can a puppet pretend,
Growing fantasies all have an end,
Even if lies are made in paradise,
They still can climb out and rise.

And before the curtains close,
In a fickle moment of pretentious glory,
Why does the past come screeching in?
Come to ruin a perfectly sane scene?

The guilt seems written on my heart
My sides crack from its growing weight
As I breakdown part by part,
Time scrolls to the end the wait.

I don't want to see the obvious,
See what destruction I can bring
So what else can I do
Than end it before I see it, before my duties are due.

Dear Blog- Narrow Alleys

Dear Blog,

                  Yesterday it rained and drizzled throughout the night. I was awake for the whole time; this time not alone or depressed. My roommate and I were talking about the one topic that never gets over... LIFE. I had an exam coming up, yet I was so consumed that we vented out all our anger and frustration over the people whose minds are just narrow alleys.... 

                  What makes our society hold their precious prestige on top of their heads and flaunt it all the while ruining the lives within their hands? If you don't get my hidden meaning in it, well I'll lay it out for you blog... Our country is still backward because we aren't broadminded though the years have rolled and lives have been lain. What do they get in forcing girls to marry rich guys against her wishes? Is it that one sentence they can say to their relatives and neighbours- 'She's married to this rich family, the boy is in Malaysia'? Or is it that they still think the girl though 23 is still an innocent soul who can't make right decisions on her own? Well I wish we can print out legislative papers and hand it out to them and say

'Hey! Read that there... You see? I'm an adult. Consider my choice as well!' 

But no they still won't. You see blog, they're prouder to say that they're daughter listened to them and compromised than to say she chose the right guy for her that even they liked. It's too modest of them to say the latter. But by God's misfortune if something ever went wrong? (by wrong I mean the groom is a drunkard or the bride commits suicide or he's a big cheat and the list of sins is endless) Then they cry over her dead body 'We should have listened, she could have been alive...' So why give that chance to fate to take her away, why not believe in her and see her live happily? Still no.... because the value of life is realised only when its gone....

               There's no harm in considering her choice is there? Do whatever you need, keep spies on him, enquire everywhere, lock him up and check if he's addicted to drugs. But don't throw him away into that mass of fickle minded people. I wish they see it like this blog; why would a girl who hasn't looked at any guy,  who always lived for her parents suddenly fall in love with a guy? If your daughter is so precious that you want the best for her, then what did she see in this guy among the rest of them in this world? No.... and still no why? Because it doesn't hurt till its gone.... 

-Dagda 

Gina's First Blunder

Gina watched from an antique door frame at the subject of her dream. The lights were dimmed low, and a full moon glazed over the stoned path recently drizzled with rain. On the other side of the door frame was the spring sun. Anything was possible in the world of dreams ... anything Gina desired. She was faintly getting used to this now, used to shifting worlds and entering into people's dream all so very easily. It was her precious gift, a boon. Of course it had to be for it came to her as naturally as she breathed in the unearthly air around her.
                       Her purple pupils widened at the girl in front of her. Her name was Marriott. For the last one week she was tracking this girl's dreams. She dreamt of the impossible and for that Gina loved to poke herself into her dreams and bring about a change in the girl's thinking.  Because they both shared the same taste, Gina put into Marriott's dream things all kinds of things she desired and that had somehow gotten into the habit of feeding this mortal more than she could desire. She twisted into the trees her affection, scattered into the air her excitement and watched as Marriott entered into the garden of bliss, always leaving happier than she came.But lately things were getting way out of hand. Gina in her act of generosity, fed Marriott her ultimate work of art; Zirial.
                       What have I done?  she thought. Zirial was the centre to Gina's world of dreams. He was ever present in all of them, taking shape as whatever she imagined. Sometimes he'd be a figure made out of white petals, sometimes a form drenched in damp rain, maybe like a little hollow whisper in her ear or even a part of her. Zirial was a Savior and her only escape when the real world got a little too realistic. Now I can't undo it ...ever. Gina had grown so fond of her creation in the world of dreams that now it hurt to see Zirial dancing with Marriott. Why was that happening? Why did she feel like thrusting her out of her dream and having Zirial all to herself? No think something else ... she couldn't afford to think for merely creating the possibility would mean it coming to life. Dreams were very fragile and Gina hadn't mastered how to handle all her emotions without putting them in the dream. It made her go crazy.
                          And what more? Gina thought she could just stop entering Marriott's dream and Zirial, a fragment of her imagination would fade away too. Little did she know the rules and laws that governed the world of dreams. Marriott had seen him, been with him long enough that now he belonged to her imaginary world. Not mine. We share Zirial. Gina's emotions burst out that minute and she took a step down the stoned pathway. The wetness dried over her steps and yet Marriott was held in Zirial's rain form.  He took her hand and invited her into the marble fountain, dancing again.
 Stop. She thought. The air stood still. 
Stop right now! The sun shattered into a million pieces behind her and so did the door frame decay into time.
No more!  Gina put up her hands and everything changed. A little too much. It was obvious that she did not understand the laws of a world shifter.... she just broke one.


Look out for posts on Gina , the World Shifter to know more!

Salvation through Rain

For the past couple of months, I've been on the edge of loosing all my friends. Most of them are upset over the fact that I forgot their birthdays (I never seem to remember anything related to Math... even numbers). I did take efforts to note it down from Facebook and keep reminders on my phone; but it still slipped my mind.  And funny thing is when they ask me 'Pri, i'm angry with you, do you know why?' I bite my lip and answer 'I...um forgot your birthday?' then all hell comes crashing down. The fact that I knew and still forgot hurts them more. Which leads us to the next reason why I'm loosing another set of friends.

                       If I seem to remember just my birthday (and two or three more) it means that I'm self centered. My intentions are good, but my style of execution has always been a matter of... debate? And so another volcano erupted at my flat yesterday. My friend and I quarreled on top of our lungs... me with a drumstick in hand (as the fight had something to do with the dinner menu) and she escaping off to her laptop. Ultimately it ended up with what?... absolutely nothing other than raced pulses, strained throats and lots of time to reflect on what we did. The fight faded into silent dinner and night took us into its arms for sleep a little too soon. But not me... I laid awake like an owl. At night I made a note to myself that I will not be impulsive, that I won't jump at people and perhaps find a way to keep my tongue blunt. I needed salvation from all of my mood swings and there was just one thing that could fix it. Rain. 

                       Today morning I got up at 6 to see the sun cross paths with Venus (rephrase: expected to see) based on my genius friend's warnings. I tossed about in bed lazily then remembered that he said  it won't be appearing again in 105 years. Camera and dark film in hand, I marched out only to find the sky clouded up, no trace of sunlight. Now under normal circumstances, being stood up (even by nature) would've irritated me for the sloth that I am didn't drag myself out of bed for a disappointment. But as I stood there my eyes wandered over to the huge trees at my entrance... the bark was damp. My eyes flickered out from their sleep and I wondered if my prayers had been heard and answered. And just like another answer, fell a raindrop on my arm. I'm not exaggerating when I say I feel at home with rain. Sometimes I wish for it and it arrives. I feel one with the element and sometimes ponder why I wasn't born as a marine animal instead. I felt the clouds get heavier and then it poured. Mum says it makes her feel sad and heavy inside... But it makes me calm. I gleefully let myself get drenched, as if the rain was washing away all my sins (the ones being I forgot the birthdays, yelled at my roommate, and kept loosing my cool) and instantly I felt good.
                        I drifted back to my flat where all the souls were sound asleep.I watched it drizzle a bit more from my balcony and it was as if rain was coaxing me to get some sleep, that it would watch over me and keep me cool headed. Now walking out of my adobe into the busy world got easier. With the drizzling rain keeping me pure, all my senses think rationally before reacting. Thank God I found my salvation through Rain!


Image from: http://www.google.co.in/imgres?num=10&um=1&hl=en&biw=1241&bih=606&tbm=isch&tbnid=T1Z4Xawxix4RJM:&imgrefurl=http://skymum-pursuitofhappiness.blogspot.com/2011/04/jumping-in-puddles-dancing-in-rain.html&docid=6cbYGCnnccJo-M&imgurl=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCC1ncl84ZFyJ3SqVUpfmEe_s_rivqQIUNDsLS2LXZ55GFmDQOknA6PRLOJghjrOM8_gf1fl9mu3909q8fy-V8dGl36jxP8MMoPqPyJlW2J5gaSkt49qSkQbVGyBq4sCUNFPW7Hju1cUUo/s1600/jumping-in-puddles.jpg&w=500&h=333&ei=xhvPT-_gCovRrQfVmqWfDA&zoom=1

Film Making for Promising Kids

While the country was immersed over the strike for the hike in petrol prices, I was among a bunch of creative heads, doing something unrelated altogether … so where was I? I was at Promise Personality Development Centre for Children at Pimple Saudagar, Pune to deliver a workshop on film making along with my friend Krithika Krishnan to the little ones. Though I had my own doubts on our performance and our ability to rejuvenate the class, I must say I had a fantastic time with the kids of Promise.

            We both entered into the centre and were immediately received with smiles and polite greetings. I saw that drawings of the children were plastered over the walls and that made me dive into my own pool of childhood memories. Back in US where I did my schooling, everything that we drew, created, and wrote would be displayed in the corridor, proudly boasting the work of growing minds. The other side of this coin was what it added to the children. If it weren’t for someone encouraging my scribbles and believing in me back then, I would’ve never gotten so far now. And that was all I wanted to do at this workshop. I just wanted to believe in them, and whatever fantasies they were conjuring in their minds. ‘Last exciting workshop – Film Making’ was sketched onto their white board and I honestly hoped I lived up to that expectation.

            When we started off with a power point presentation, approximately 25 eyes stared at me. Out of that, 20 were those of little ones, wide with awe and innocence. We went according to plan; Krithika briefing the technical, history, parts and genres of films. I tried breaking that down into things they can relate with, things that would make it easier for them to understand what we learnt just a year back. I think I won over Ronak when I explained about the Dark Night Trailer; the lad who was a statue before nodded his head and zeal filled into his eyes.  I don’t know if it worked, for some of them I was not able to win over…talk about strong personality! But by the end of the presentation in 45 minutes, majority of them were charged up and ready for the activity. The children were going to pick out a concept, write a script, conduct auditions, direct it, edit it and cherish the film as their first movie making experience ever. I feel good saying it right now also! I won’t get into how we executed it, for we did just fine. I could however like to share my views on the workshop.

What makes these kids so adorable is that they are modest, but filled with talent. I remember myself saying to my little script-writer Renuka: ‘your concept is say an apple… you have to make it into a script. It can be a green apple, a red one… but not a-’ ‘orange?’ came the answer. I laughed silently inside for she grasped. When defining the one liner with Finding Nemo example, Kush stood up confidently and impressed us with his one liner, suddenly making filming seem like a cake walk. Madhur took our autographs and that was my third one for the day, in my life. It made me glow inside all the while. All the kids were amazing, though I’m not able to recall their names, I mean it when I say they were little angels who certainly made my day!! What an experience to teach kids, knowing that you are putting something into their heads at least for a few hours, knowing that you’re changing something in them!  Does this mean I want to become a teacher? Don’t know… does this mean the workshop is going to turn them into film makers? Don’t know… but do I want to look back on this day after many years and be glad I took this opportunity to believe in them? YES!!