Who is D.N.Yadav...

To keep the prankster in me entertained, I needed a good laugh as in R-O-T-F-L and of course, I desperately needed to conjure it myself. If 'what is your name' is the most frequently asked question to any kid, 'when are you getting married' or 'kab khilaogi' or various other versions of this same question can easily be the most frequent one posed to me, in the recent past. Having hit upon a topic which can never fail to evoke curiosity, I couldnt be more pleased when April 1st presented itself as a good opportunity to ROTFL. I sent an email to a select list of people; a mix of whose reactions I could predict and whose reactions I could not.

Here's the content of the mail..

Subject: Wedding Invitation

Hi...

I am sure this comes a pleasantly-shocking surprise to you; am surprised too. :)

I am getting married tomorrow evening, to Yadav D.N. I have known him all my life and fell irrevocably in love with him during our recent trip to Gujarat in September 2010. They say everything happens for a reason. So, I am just hoping that we will find out the reasons for this, in due course.

My father has taken all my friends' phone numbers; he will be inviting you over phone, as we dont have enough time to personally invite everybody. A formal invite mentioning the venue & timing, is attached.

I hope you will take a few hours off from watching the World Cup and grace the occasion of my wedding, to which only a very few close friends are invited.

Regards,
Subah G.

I had zipped the attachment to add an ounce of confusion, and named it 'DN_weds_SG' to make it look authentic. Here's the invite I sent:




Here are some of the reactions...

"Disappointed. I knew it from the subject line itself. Unga kittenrundhu innum konjam adhigamaa ethir paakkaren"

"aiyo aiyo, i guessed it
ha ha ha"

"Erumai maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaadu...
do u know how excited and happy i was !!!!! Idiot !! sathiyama kolai dhaan unnai adutha tadavai pakkum podhu.. "
[This dear friend of mine, is in a far-off place and so he got really wild. I added some dialogues to my original invitation mail, saying "wish you were here" :D]

"Hearty congrats... i could view only one page of your zip mail.. when you get free mail me the wedding photos. (photography by another person?!!!)"
[This one bowled me over; double ROTFL]

"I know you are april fooling me! Asku busku! "

There are some more (sure-shot) promises of killing me the next time I'm sighted.:D

Here's the prelude to the prank...
I would have believed what my friends hinted at, to be true: I've transformed into a dunce from being brilliant once upon a time, into a dullard from being exuberant in the recent past. The hints sounded louder after I failed to make a decent score in some dumb games and refused to play some not-so-dumb games. I might have even agreed with them explicitly, if only they had stopped at that. After all, change is the only constant and transformation is mercilessly qualitative. But when they said I had severely damaged my humour-bone, succumbed to reticence and killed the prankster in me along the way, just because I needed a few extra seconds to digest their silly jokes and mutual leg-pulling, I saved me from condemning myself to moronity. Though I do not talk and laugh incessantly anymore, it does not necessarily mean I have totally lost my ability to laugh, joke or talk; alternatively, it could mean that I have better things to do or doing things in a better way.

And....who is D.N.Yadav? None other than Him, DwarkaNath Yadav!

.

.

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Half of what I say...

The flight lands ahead of its schedule, only to be leaving in less than six hours. So be it. Though am late to reach the airport, I am just as gleeful as a child because it's me picking you up and not some of your uniforms.

There is the cheerful welcome, with my mind already sensing the farewell which lingers so closer by in time. And then there are the white lies about how we look just the same having not changed a bit since we saw each other. I cannot find another person with whom I would exchange such lies and be so happy and unguilty about it.

Neither is there a person to whom I can say "No, I dont like the tee you are wearing". Then, strange as it may sound, we talk about all the tshirts & kurtas each other wore whenever we met, during the past. The closet sentimentalists we both are, it is no surprise that we remember the details. The surprise lies in realising that I miss you more than I knew. Suddenly, the few thousand miles between us seem longer than they usually are.

We take a ride home, the route rickety and still unfamiliar to me. I miss a turn or two, but I really dont mind - I just get to ride a little longer with you. I'm sure my bike would not complain, you being the only person who remembers to ask about it every now and then.

The visit is unplanned and so I have no time to prepare for cooking lunch at home. Am upset about being not able to stuff you with home-food, but at the same time, unabashedly glad that just the two of us can have an elaborate lunch elsewhere. I am mighty pleased that you like the restaurant I chose.

We eat and eat, updating each other about life, all its nitty-gritties, and about our worries. Laughing over so many things even as we brood over the times we had missed to spend together. Ah... those movies I wanted to watch with you but never got to; I still hope that we will catch them on DVD someday.

There are moments I fall silent thinking of numerous tiny things we've shared and enjoyed, all those shayaris over the innumerable cups of tea and all the times I was teased about my dryfruit diet and my being a sleepyhead. Too bad that we never get to exchange a shayari today. I think of all the moments when I had to send you off at many airports and many railway stations. My mind is clouded with thoughts of Kashmir, of rains, of long conversations, of babies, of Psalms, of summers, of sonnets, of swims, of prayers, of flamingoes. But when you ask, I answer vaguely, that am out of my mind.

Three hours pass off, across the table for two, and its time for getting back to the airport, but not before we drown ourselves in black coffee. I get to laugh out loud about this and that, all through the ride to the airport, at the parking lot and at the cloak room and upto the departure terminal.

Then you disappear quickly after the briefest of goodbye-hugs, leaving me to start waiting again, not knowing when I would meet you again. I start waiting again, just as I waited for you to board the train, years ago, even before we had met.

Half of what I say is meaningless; but I say it so that the other half may reach you...

Chennai's summer and slang...

I dont remember being a pig. If I did, I would also remember that pigs dont sweat and I wont be saying I sweat like a pig. It's late June and still no signs of the mercury coming down. Well, I am in Chennai after all and I should not be complaining. This place is second only to beloved Calcutta in humidity. Though the evenings - aided by the coastal breeze, are better than those of Calcutta, mornings are ungodly....when you have to tackle the kitchen & laundry and get ready for a long workday.

Once I finally manage to cool off some sweat sitting under the fan for a quick breakfast, I gear up for the 9.5 kilometre ride to my workplace, putting on oversized sunglasses and tying a bandana matching my outfit, as closely as possible. Now comes the fun part of summer.

I must have done something really right in my previous janma (birth) to earn this ride - 4.5 kilometres of completely shaded avenues, with a generous helping of trees in full bloom. 200 metres of hot sun from my house, I enter this avenue and feel greatly blessed. Not a single day passes by without me wondering how people could so heartlessly cut down trees...

For the first 4.5 kilometres I do not mind the bad mad traffic, thanks to the shade of Indian lauburnum, flame of the forest, bougainville....but mostly albizia saman aka thoongu moonji or raintree...and the breeze no airconditioner in this world can simulate. But the next 5 or so kilometres...ooof...hotter than a furnace (if you had been inside one!)

But the end-of-summer-sky presents its own splendour - clouds, clouds, clouds....amazing blue and white and of course, grey. Fabulous patterns, some shining, some not too glossy. Wow ! What I would not give in return, if only I could just roll on a hillside meadow and look at the morning sky, instead of riding to work sandwiched between stupid cars with airconditioners!

And the evening sky, if only am lucky to start from work just in time to see the dusk settling down, is equally, or may be more enchanting than the cloud-filled mornings. What a riot of colours! What is that technical spec of 256 million colours you get on mobile displays and monitors. It wont be nowhere near the number of colours in Nature's palette. Once upon a time, I believed that all the fancy colours like Mauve, Fuschia, Magenta are all some chemical combinations invented experimentally or accidentally by paint factories. I got shocked out of that notion when I went snorkelling in the Andamans. Oh, what splendid colors of fish and corals!

Coming back to Chennai bike ride, how I wish I had one of my friends or my mom riding with me to enjoy the beauty of God Nature...I even look around for a friendly-looking fellow-rider if I could point a finger to the sky and say with a smile - hey look - and get a smile in return. Mmmmm...everybody's tired at the twilight and just about everybody (except a few) is so keen on breaking traffic rules to reach home early. No time for a peek at the skies and its colours.

It's just me looking at the summer skies and yearning for a meadow to roll upon. 5 summers ago, I did exactly that. Roll on a meadow, somewhere in Himachal Pradesh near the Dhauladhar range of the Himalayas. So, everyday - morning and evening - I look at the skies and imagine that I am not riding to work in Chennai but rolling on a meadow in Himachal.

What will you do when you see someone looking at the skies and riding a bike, albeit looking at the road ahead now and then? Oh yes, you are right. Bang on target. That's what the auto-drivers do. Use the choicest of Chennai slang at me for my lousy riding. Thankfully, am good at selective hearing. Or you can even call me half deaf.

Being half deaf I dont know much of Madras Tamizh. Now tell me, what's the very common cuss word in Madras Tamizh? :) 'Kasmaalam'? Mind you, its a Sanskrit word, morphed though. 'Kashmalam' meaning impurity or faintheartedness or illusion or confusion. Interestingly, Lord Krishna utters this word in His very first verse to Arjuna. (Ignoring the one line of indirect speech in the First Chapter of The Holy Gita, wherein He said 'Look at the Kauravas who are lined up for battle').

Here are the first two verses of Lord Krishna (Chapter 2. Verses 2 & 3)...
श्रीभगवानुवाच
कुतस्त्वा कश्मलं इदं विषमे समुपस्थितम
अनार्य जुष्टं अस्वर्ग्यम अकीर्तिकरम अर्जुन (२.२)
क्लैब्यं मा स्म गम: पार्थ नैतत्त्वय्युपपद्यते
क्षुद्रं ह्रदयदौर्बल्यं त्याक्त्वोत्तिष्ट परन्तप (२.३)

Kutastvaa kashmalam idam vishame samupasthitam. Anaarya jushtam aswargyam akeertikaram arjuna. Lord Krishna said, O Arjuna, where has this illusion of yours appeared in this moment of crisis? This is not befitting an Aryan, nor conducive to attaining heavenly spheres and is a cause of infamy। (2.2)
Klaibyam maa smagama paartha naitatvayyupapadyate. Kshudram hrdaya daurbalyam tyaktvottishta parantapa. O Partha, do not yield to unmanliness. This is not worthy of you. O scorcher of foes, giving up this weakness of heart, rise up! (2.3)

Spoken like a true teacher! Clearly, some of the choicest words of Sanskrit which are indeed harsh, if looked at, literally. For example 'klaibyam' also means impotence. Was Lord Krishna a little too harsh on Arjuna? Just as harsh as the Chennai summer?

Daily dose of The Holy Gita...

Duty is to vote...... Sometimes, some of the verses keep hammering inside the so-called brain and manifest in all possible ways, even in simple and silly ways. Here's one such verse and a visual manifestation. The index finger that voted in E-2009, pointing at the rising market index.

कर्मण्येवाधिकारास्ते मा फलेषु कदाचन
मा कर्मफल्हेतूर्भूर्मा ते संगोस्त्वकर्मणि
(गीता २:४७)

உன்னுடைய உரிமை செய்யும் காரியம் மட்டுமே. காரியத்தின் முடிவும் பயனும் உன்னுடைய உரிமையல்லவே அல்ல. பயனில் ஆசை செலுத்தி எதையும் செய்யாதே. இதை சொன்னேன் என்று செய்ய வேண்டியன செய்யாமல் சும்மா இருப்பதில் கவனம் செலுத்தாதே. (கீதை 2:47)