Jay Mody

Yeah, we’re runnin’ a little bit hot tonight
I can barely see the road from the heat comin’ off
You know what I’m sayin’
Ahh, you reach down put it between my legs n’ ease the seat back
She’s runnin’, I’m flyin’
Right behind in the rearview mirror now
Got the fearin’, power steerin’
Pistons poppin’, ain’t no stoppin’ now

Its time go after a 2 month long vacation. I (finally) leave for IIT Kharagpur. And free time, as I know, will be a thing of the past. It’ll be two years of slog. And some more slog

So its a goodbye to the blogosphere for sometime (atleast till I get my new computer there). So long people………keep in touch and keep it real. I’ll blog as and when my clock allows me to.

Adieu.

It was a warm afternoon, with strains of ‘Its Been a while’ playing in the background. It was probably our final meet at Cafe Coffee Day. Hearts were sullen, yet faces lit up as bright as possible, to greet each other goodbye. These were by far the best of the times we’ve had together. Siddhesh, Sudarshan and I, three buddies from our old classes, way back in the 12th standard.

The memory is still fresh. I still remember the first day we met. I already knew Sudi and the first day we walked in, we sat on the second bench. Sid was staring at us with his oh-what-snobs grin on his face while reclining on the very last bench. And we were with that first-day-be-a-good-boy kind of attitude. The very next day, we were back there at the last bench and it so happened that we became real good friends, and from then on, its all our own history.

There comes a time in everyones life when you have to part with friends. However cliched it may sound right now, its something that is the most difficult thing to do. Maybe even more difficult than committing suicide. You want to hang on to that moment forever and never part with your friends, hoping that life would work out a way to keep us all together. But it never does happen.

Sudi boards his flight for the US tomorrow and the next day Sid flies for Australia, while I’ll be in our good ol’ India.

We’ve had some wonderful times together, including the night we spent at Sid’s place. God!! I’ll never forget these.

Sometimes, it makes me sad, though. I just have to remind myself that some birds just arent meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, a part of you that knows that it was a sin to lock them up, does rejoice, but still, the place that you live in is that much more drab and empty when they are gone. I guess I just miss my friend.

— The Shawshank Redemption

I guess a few years down the line, we’ll meet again. Changed men we will be, but I hope not too changed for us. So long my friends……

“Its been years now since the government started imposing restrictions on advertising through the Television media.

But its intriguing how the companies still make sheer mockery of those rules and the officials sit on their chairs doing nothing about them. Take the case of 8PM Apple Juice. I’m sure if we even go to a shop and ask for it, it wont be available. Do these companies even make the so-called apple juice that they proclaim on the TV?? Well I’m sure many of them dont and even the officials might know about it. But they sit there doing nothing about the loop-holes in the laws they make.

To say more, companies like KingFisher give out ads saying they make mineral water. I had been to Goa a few months back (KingFisher’s biggest market) and I tried to test it out by asking a shopkeeper for KingFisher mineral water. And he was like “”Sir, we only have kingfisher beer””. I wasn’t surprised.

Another issue that has always raged is the sheer in-human ads made by the fairness cream companies. I mean how can you proclaim things like if a girl is fair then only she can become an air-hostess. Or if shes fair only then she can get married to a good guy..!! This is utter nonsense!! I believe something should be done to completely ban these kinds of ads.

Its been quite some time since I last wrote. Been completely busy with preparations to leave for IIT Kharagpur. In the meantime I’ve uploaded my snaps from my last trip with my college friends to Lonavala. You can check them out here”

“OK. I am frustrated. I’m starting three new clubs. If you want to join you can leave a comment, why should we (okay, so right now its I) consider you for the membership.

The I-hate-ferrari Club:
So Ferrari once again had two cars on the podium. And it really got me thinking, does Michael Schumacher deserve any of the recent credit that he has been attached. It is solely on the basis of the car strength and the pit strategy that he has won so many races in the past few seasons. Well in the meanwhile, I continue to hate ferrari and Michael Schumacher for reasons plenty. I support Renault and Fernando Alonso. And the debate continues…. Join the club today. Membership open.

The I-hate-corporates Club: Once again its time to get rid of my long hair and the beard. As someone had rightly put it, “”another one bites the corporate dust.””
Well its one notion that I have never understood. People say the Indian corporates are almost in their prime now, but i still wonder why is that narrow-mindedness still rampant in the industry. Have very small hair and a clean shave have become like the killer un-written rules for the people who go for interviews. If a person who has longish hair and a goatee, there are very clear frowns on the faces of the panel. Why?? I mean cant you recruit a person for who he is rather than what he looks like? When a person with the looks i described, walks into an interview room, theres a typical mental block that sets in. Its something that I have begun to hate time and again. The saddest part being I have to go through the whole thing once again…

The I-hate-my-grandmother Club: There are times when I think about the lives of some people and realise that they were really waste. Complete waste. Picture my grandmother. All she has done in life is grow up, get married, raise kids, grow old and now lie around house all day. And I cant believe she spent 75 years doing that. And now all she does everyday is crib about her own family and plot how to make others look like villains. And she lives on…

”

I’m gonna take you
To a place far from here
No one will see us
Watch the pain as it disappears
No time for anger
No time for despair
Won’t you come with me
There’s a room for us there

As the strains of Return to Serenity filled up the silence, the train chugged along towards Aurangabad. Its amazing how music keeps me company for hours and hours of time which otherwise seem endless. So it was one more of those dreaded weddings that I had to attend. I often wonder why people like these weddings where there’s nothing more than hypocrisy on show and yeah, the free food. But well, for the free food, I cannot give up myself for such torture. Unless, of course, in such cases when I have to.

Most of my cousins had prior commitments and as I had nothing to do, I was dragged along to witness one more tamasha. So it was me with two of my sisters as company. I was listening to my discman (god bless it!!) in the train all along occasionally dropping one earphone to check the conversation between the other two.

The favourite topics are clothes and people and filmstars and clothes and people and filmstars and so on….

I thought I might as well try to interrupt with some better talk among us lesser mortals. So i started talking to a cousin.

Me: So what music do you listen to?
Cousin: *blinks once* *blinks twice* *stares* Umm I listen to all kinds of music. The fast music really gets on my nerves sometimes.
Me: Okay so what do u particularly listen to?
Cousin: Anything…
Me:
Cousin:

That was the end of an enterprising attamept to start a conversation. So I decided I might as well give talking a slip for the rest of the train journey. And as they continued chattering about the same old stuff. I hit the pause button once again….

This innocent beauty
My words can’t describe
This rebirth purity
Brings a sullen tear right to your eyes
No time for anger
No time for despair
Please let me take you
’cause I’m already there

It was midnight as Nirvana – Unplugged filled my ears with an unparalleled melody. As everyone was being rocked to sleep by the train that pulled along through the night, I was lying there staring into nothing. A fly was lazily flitting on the tubelight as I thought about the world beyond. The white light wasnt pure anymore…

“All along there are instances when things, people, artists and bands are over-rated. Maybe its just my perception, but nevertheless its what I believe. Its been some years now since I got into rock music.

I tried listening to quite a lot of genres in rock but some genres and some bands really never lived upto the hype that they were given. The Beatles have always been a big name ever since they were given their big break. But I have maintained, and still do, that they are terribly over-rated. On the contrary there have been bands who never got their due. And still belt out songs with stupendous passion.

I was introduced to this band called Opeth a year back by Rohan. It was supposed to a death metal band as branded by quite a few and I was quite aversive to listening to it initially. But as I tried a few songs I realised the diversity in the music. I’m sure half of the rockers also havent heard about Opeth, leave aside any one else.

There are songs like Patterns in the Ivy and Still Day Beneath The Sun by them, which are so good that u can just keep listening to them.

And its not only Opeth there are so many bands out there who never got the due credit. Talk about Indian bands. There are bands like Zero and Parikrama who have immense talent and a terrific sound. But whats happening? They are just wilting away their time being branded as amateur rock acts by people who dont know the ‘r’ in rock.

Its mostly the unnecessary media hype that creates overrated bands.

An extremely funny incident happened today. I was at the medical store buying some medicines for dad. This lady walks in and asks the shop owner for Glucon-D. The guys starts meting out his advice saying that if her kid has typhoid then there are special medicines available and that she should not give Glucon-D. He started taking names of medicines and saying that he saw her in the morning walking with her kid, all the while trying to be the smart guy. The lady was standing there calmly listening to all that he had to say. In the end when he stopped, she coolly said, “”I’m a surgeon myself””
”

Why do Dads have to have the compulsive behaviour of refusing requests from their children. Even if deep down they want to say yes, the tag of ‘Dad’ prevents them from agreeing at the first shot.

Although after some pestering and buttering he would say yes, so why not in the first chance? *sigh*

I wonder if even I’ll be like that when I grow up to become one. I certainly hope not.

*********
Its been 21 years in the same room now. It always runs short of space, even for the people who have been staying there for years. The building is an old stone construction. A verandah runs along the length of the numerous rooms that line every floor.

The fourth floor, which incidently is the topmost floor, is different. The verandah is dotted with different plants. From Tulsi to red-rose to neem, there are atleast a dozen. They have been planted keeping in mind various uses and with meticulous planning of seasons. Different plants bloom in different seasons. It gives a feeling that the mini-garden is complete.

Everyday I wake up in the morning to damp smells of the freshly watered plants. They have a fresh spring in their sway, as if welcoming the face they see everyday. I proceed to examine the plants for new flowers or any parasites troubling them.

There is one man who takes care of all the plants and caters to all their needs. His day starts at 6:00 AM sharp. With drowsy eyes and a bucketful of water he steps out into the chilly morning. He knows the exact amount of water to be poured for every plant. It should be no more; no less.

He knows all the birds that visit his mini-garden. He talks to them in muted words and waves at them when they fly away. Others who wake up early, often stare at him. Some with surprise, others with plain contempt for his self attained tranquility. The guards who pass by every morning are used to his behaviour, so much so that they fail to notice him.
********

Today I sit on the steps, crying. Those plants they wilt away. I miss my friend. I miss the smell of the damp soil, I woke up with every morning for years. He often told me about how green the world would be. About how the birds would play among those bushes. And speak to you in unheeded words. He always hoped.

Life had been cruel to him, for he never lived to watch the world outside. The world is a different place today. The birds perch in the bushes to avoid the smoke. They chirp in agony and fly away when they can not bear it anymore. Now whenever I think about my friend, I feel strangely satisfied. Atleast he died a happy man. A man content with the way the world was. A man who died in serenity. I’m happy he never reached the day when his parole would be granted.

“””Ferry?? What ferry?? Theres no ferry to Alibag for another 3 months.””

Ankit stared at me blankly as the the man averred with an air of defiance. Shoulders drooping, he walked back to where we stood and repeated it. And surprised faces is all I could see around.

It was a cloudy morning of June 10th as we all made our way down to Gateway of India to leave for Alibag, but as it turned out, it was not to be. The plan was scraped and a new one made. “”Can you get your cars?””, Kaushal asked me and Dhaval. As we inquired with our Dads we were surprised and elated to know that the cars were available.

So new plans were made and there was a spring in everyone’s step. We made it down to Borivli again and drove our horses out of their stables. We conducted routine checks on the car about the oil, filled in gas and we were off. Not to Alibag. But to Lonavala.

Well it was the very first time I was driving so far away from the city and I was absolutely excited that I was gonna be driving on the Expressway!! As it turned out we took the wrong route and had to wade our way through the traffic at Mumbra. We reached the expressway and it was something I had never seen before. Believe me when I say that driving at 140 kmph on a road that never seems to end and with not a single car in sight is like heaven right on earth!

We reached Lonavala, settled down in our rooms and after our lunch we hit the road once again. There was a thick fog cover as we made our way up the treachorous ghat. All I could see was just 6-7 feet ahead of my car. It was a drive I’ll always remember. Finally we reached a place where not many people go. It was a ledge in the mountains. We parked our cars and were perched on the ledge waiting for the fog to clear away. A few minutes down the fog suddenly started to clear at a lightning speed. It was just as if the artist unveils his latest creation. What we saw down in the valley was a breath-taking view of a green carpet dotted with small houses and fields. It was just as if, someone had cut it out from a landscape painting. Or maybe its the other way round.

It was a serene evening in the ghats of lonavala. Finally we made it down to our rooms and went for dinner. Now this is the time that I always look forward to in our trips. The night. We went out ‘shopping’ for booze and soda. All of us huddled together in one room and started playing cards. We went late into the night and once the whisky started taking effect, decided to go for a drive again. All I remember is that I was driving keeping in mind the tail lamps of the car ahead of me, which Dhaval was driving. The sleep that ensued was the best one I’ve had in sometime.

Strangely enough we woke up at 8:00 the following morning. The hangover was quite bad and we all went ahead to have our baths. The drive back to bombay was quiet and once again we hit that 140kmph mark.

It was time to say good-bye as it was the very last trip for quite some time. Quite some years actually. We are all going our seperate ways to make our lives and careers. A few going for their MBA, others for MTech and some taking up jobs. We are all going to different parts of this country and wont meet for atleast a few more years.”

“This used to be a city of dreams, which beckoned even the most unfortunate under its shade. The warmth and the passion extended by the city was the one of incomparable magnitude. Things sure are changing, then again, are they?

A few weeks back I met Rahul (editor, Motif), when he came to Bombay. As we ran through each others lives over coffee, there were a few things he said about the city that struck me. He is not primarily from Bombay and what he said was, “”Yeh shaher se ghutan hoti hai mujhe“”. It was something I discarded at that very moment as a personal opinion. Over the next few weeks I met a few other friends who had come to the city for some work. When I got similar “”suffocating”” opinions about the city from a few other people, it really got me thinking. Has this city become too self-indulgent?

There was a time when neighbours were an indispensible part of the societal hierarchy. These are times when, neighbours are always unwanted and even if you have them, you wouldnt want to talk to them apart from once a year during the new year’s. And suffocating, well, we would never feel that way because of the attitudes that we have developed over the years. The attitude of taking things the way they are. Never bother, unless it affects you.

The city has turned into a gigantic metro, thats on the verge of losing its indentity in the labyrinth of wealth and indulgency. But I still live in this city. I love it. I’ll never curse it for what it is. It can be compared to main-lining. You do it once, you can never leave it. The city is addictive. But, I still think.

On quite a different note, I finished reading another novel today. Well it was one more of those espionage novels that I keep reading (The Key to Rebecca by Ken Follett). Have you ever felt, that you get really attached to a character? I was reading this novel and I started taking sides with the guy who was technically supposed to be the ‘bad guy’. To that extent that I started justifying all his activites, while I was reading. Only to realise at the end, that he died ”