The whistle blower

I have often heard elders appreciate youngsters with a "fire" in them. I am one of those. With a slight difference. I have an innate arsonistic tendency. 


They say there is no smoke without fire, isn't it? I can't express in words as to how thankful I am for that fact. You see, I have been gifted with a nose only for cosmetic purposes, by the almighty, for reasons only He knows best. I cannot catch a whiff of anything unless it is shoved right under my nose within a radius of 10 cms. 


I was once in Bangalore, staying in my mother's friend's house for a brief period. I was a fresh college pass-out, and had landed in the inevitable IT job. I was there for my "KT" period. (For the uninitiated, KT stands for "Knowledge Transition". I learned to my consternation that the only thing that got transitioned was time. There was no knowledge whatsoever to begin with. The wisdom that I managed to draw from my seniors was that nobody knows what they are doing.)


It was a quiet, pleasant morning in Bangalore. I was alone since aunty had left early to work. I was waiting for the auto. Meanwhile, the coffee-paithyam that I am, I strolled into the kitchen and switched on the stove to heat the milk. I then stepped out to look for my ID card - yes, I also spend half my life searching for things. I finally managed to find it and rushed out since I had heard the auto come around. I was beaming ear to ear since I had located my ID card in record time and also remembered to lock the door, AND heard the auto. I was proud of my intuition, astute detective skills and auditory sharpness.


I went to work and promptly paid a visit to the coffee room after dumping my bag in the chair. I called my amma to report my day so far and picked up a cup to get coffee from the vending machine... YES, finally, I remembered the milk on the stove. 


"Ayyayo amma!"


"What did you do now? I thought you were doing fine today. Did you get into some other company's office?"


"No no, milk..stove.." I floundered, aghast and disappointed with my memory, and my nose for not detecting the smell of over-boiled milk.


I quickly called aunty. I began "Aunty...I..." in a panic-stricken voice.


"Yeah yeah, there was a lot of smoke, the watchman noticed and called me. They got in with the spare key that I had given the watchman. I am now at home, clearing the mess." I could sense the note of resignation in aunty's voice. (Huh! This and all I can sense. But not smoky smell.) For the rest of the duration of my stay, I gave up coffee. 


I would like to say that I have been very careful after that incident. That I do pranayam everyday to clear out the access issue in my respiratory system and to improve the smell-sensing algorithm in the nasal module in the nervous sytem(oops! work jargon hang-over!). But. No. 


Amma never lets me boil milk or contribute in any activity that involves active duty in the kitchen for fear that I will, literally, bring down the house. I take care of the peripheral and boring activities like scraping coconut. The most boring job on earth (But it does have perks. One gets to smuggle some shredded coconut every time amma looks away). Peeling the skin off boiled potatoes (I openly demand a certain number of peeled potatoes in return for just peeling the potatoes and not trying to cook them).

My friend Bala, the true friend that he is, made a life changing suggestion to me after numerous such incidences when I did have to boil milk when amma was away from home and I had a craving for coffee. He told me that there is something that will literally blow a whistle when it is time to switch off the stove. The milk cooker. 


But then one day I forgot to fill water in the whistle...

Here to stay

It has been brought to my notice that I have not blogged for quite a while. That is indeed, true. The fact is, I did not want to bore my readers with a travelogue - Chennai to TAMU. I did not want to describe how my apartment looks. I have shared a satisfactory number of Picassa albums with my friends filled with pictures of my apartment and the university.

I could list a whole lot of things that are different here but that is not what I am going to do. That, I am sure, has been done by many bloggers. This post is about what never changed for me even after travelling a considerable distance on the globe(apparently, over the north pole too, according to the animation on the screen in the flight).

Bad hair days - They are here to stay. If you have hair like mine, you are doomed. You can travel over all the oceans on earth and climb the Himalayas but you shall have bad hair days when your hair shall never get set. Especially on days that a professional photograph is going to be taken by your department, for free.

"Oh this is the worst day of my life!" - Looks like I have been forcefully subscribed for one such day per month. Some technical mistake up there in heavan. Nothing I can do about it. The heel in the costliest shoe breaking off on the very first day, forgetting my ID card after delivering a sermon on its importance during an exam, ironing a black coat and ending up with a white patch on it....I am not able to come up with a better explanation for such "events". Whoever is in charge up there, please escalate this issue. I am very much dissatisfied with the way you are rolling out your disastrous designs to production environment.

"Maybe I spent too much :(" - This particular syndrome which attacks me after every purchase in a shop also seems to have taken a particular liking for me. The attacks have increased in frequency. The logic seems to be, the frequency of attacks is directly proportional to the value of the currency used for purchase.

"What do I eat??" - Agreed, this was a "fancy" question back in India, but I still had this confusion. With so many dishes on the menu, I never could choose one that would keep me contented and not make me look over someone else's plate and wish I had ordered that dish instead. In Texas, it is the greatest problem for a vegetarian. There is almost nothing for vegetarians in most restaurants. There is a hidden advantage though - you never spend money. Atleast on food. And my mother got her wish granted - her daughter cooks every day(atleast maggi).

I have also made it abundantly clear to the folks on my friends list in Facebook that I personally think life was more comfortable in India. Agreed, Chennai is hot. But Texas is hotter. In Chennai, I could get an auto and escape the heat. Yes, the Chennai auto with its driver now looks like the shining armour with a substitute knight to me.

You have license??

"Step out of your car madam...You did not obey the traffic signal"

"No, I did...It was green when I crossed the junction..."

"I am saying no, madam..please come out first"

Grumbling internally, I got out of my car. The traffic cop obviously did not know my car AC's psychology. It hates the sun and hot weather. It refuses to work when its hot. Then what is the point, you ask? Well, I am not going to digress from the current topic and explain. My Ac's clock was ticking and I wanted to reach this new restaurant without being soaked in sweat.

A little background on the story - I had my visa interview that day(there, I bragged). The nice consulate lady approved my visa. I was happy and relieved and wanted to spend money to declare my happiness to the world. In this case, the hotel industry. Bala was with me(Good boy he is. Some times.) And yes, he is not Rajnikanth. But you are supposed to know who he is, if you read my blogs. Poke around the blog to find out, if you care.

This traffic cop stops me at around 1 PM under the merciless, blazing Chennai sun. Blistering Barbeque Nation I say!

"Who is this?" - Cop, pointing to Bala.

I internally smiled at the cop's question. If I tell his name, will you know? Do you read our blogs?

Anyways, I said, "Friend".

"You have license?"

"Yes"

"You crossed when the signal was red...Shall we tell your dad?"

"Dude, you dont want to, trust me" - Sound's mind voice.

I smile.

"It will cost you Rs.1500"

This time I laugh. I still dont talk.

A few seconds later.."Ok...give 350 and get the receipt"

"Sound, pay up. He has come down to 350...Lets get outta here" - Bala to Sound.

"Good that the cop cant hear you, Bala. Just keep quite. Else you will be the starter in Kodambakkam middle-of-the-street branch of Barbeque Nation." - Sound's mind voice. I still smile. I do that when I am amused, irritated, sad or angry. Translation for, always.

I look at the cop and still smiling, I ask, "How much should I give sir?"

He must have thought..."So, you are deaf?". Maybe he did think I was deaf. Because now the fine amount was reduced to Rs.100, only without a receipt. I did not need a receipt.

I paid up, got back my license and pulled Bala into the car before he could say anything else. Same side goal putter.

Had it been any other day, I would have stayed there and asked the cop to give me a proper receipt and would have even contested it in court. But, like I said, I got my visa approved that day. I was happy.

Yes yes, I just bragged again. And here is some more of it. I am leaving day after tomorrow and will not blog until I get a laptop, most probably. My last post in India :D

I am loving these "last" senti statements. It is fun.

You gotta earn it...Mind ittt!

There are ads these days telling us that we need to earn chocolates - just earning enough money to buy them does not suffice anymore. So, a day with Maya akka after a loo-hoo-ngg time - yeah, I did have to "earn" it. I literally did toil in sweat(I drive a Maruti 800, 2004 model...no point in expecting it to keep me cool under Chennai's blazing sun at 12 in the noon near Doraiswamy subway).

Well, I started out cool(AC was working fine when I set out from home) and happy, singing along with the MP3 player in my phone. I felt very grown up, driving to T nagar via the subway(mom never allowed me to take my car there). So, it was a great start to the day. Little did I know that I had some (l)earning to do.

I deftly swished past the traffic near Ashok pillar(adellam chuma jujubee, you see..). After turning right at the Bloo-Pink store junction and reaching Arya Gowda road, I felt I had arrived. I had definitely become a grown up, pukka Chennai citizen. I was going to reach my Mecca - Pothy's junction, on my own.

I had forgotten one thing. Have you seen pictures of the Mecca Masjid? It is this huge building surrounded by a sea of human heads.

Pothy's is similar to it, surrounded by human heads and tops of cars, autos and other vehicles strangulating Chennai's roads.

I was in the line, waiting for my darshan of Pothy's, from 11:30 to 12:30. I could not even give up and turn back home. There was not an inch of space around my car. I was chanting the names of all the Gods that my grandmother has mentioned in her story telling sessions while stuffing breakfast into my mouth during my school days, because my car has this strange habit of stopping and refusing to get started in the very middle of a traffic jam.

The line moved on. I almost expected a counter by the side of the road, reading "Special darshan - Rs.50", for a short route to Mukthi. But alas, nothing of that sort has come up yet. So the traffic snailed on and on. There were 2 lines on the road and whenever the line on my right edged a few inches further, I felt like nudging the car in front of me and saying, "Move it man! Look at that guy on the right, he is going places, and I am stuck with you! Trust me to get tangled with the losing side!", much like pattu mami in edhirneechal..."aduthaathu amboojatha pathela" song).

My feet were smarting with pain and begging to stay away from the clutch and brake pedals. To cut a long traffic line short, I finally made it to Pothy's. I could not resist taking a snap of the shop and, I must say, I did risk my life in the process.

P.S: Don't be deceived by the picture. I was driving slow, and put some space between me and the car in front of me amidst a lot of honking behind me. The road was packed, I say.

At that point, whichever demi-god in heaven is responsible to collect the "earnings" metrics and attest that I am a certified "(l)earner", decided that I could now use the second, third and fourth gears(which, by this time, I was sure both me and my car did not know how to operate any longer). It was a breezy drive(yeah, I had to lower my windows and give up all pretence of driving an air conditioned car) after that.

I reached Maya akka's house. She has a very cute home and I have always had fun with her. Today was no exception. We had great food, and we watched F.R.I.E.N.D.S at home. A perfect weekend. Thanks akka! :)

Oh, what did I (l)earn today? I learned that one must never drive to T nagar on a hot day - always take an auto. And earned a great saturday :)