Agla Station Dilli!

Half an MBA:"Bhaiya please Mumbai Central chal lo, gaadi miss ho jayegi!"
Driver(with an attitude that would put the Godfather to shame): "Bhai saab hamari bhi koi life hai, subah 7 baje se gaadi chala rahe hain!"

Half an hour and a thousand begs for mercy later, the driver relented and off we were to Mumbai Central. Soaking in the last few whiffs of the Mumbai breeze in the cab, the seat numbers were confirmed by Rajat - B7, 34 and 37. Thank you Android Apps. Places like Mumbai Central, CST Station, Gateway of India, The Taj makes one realise that even if you rule a country, you rule it royally.Period. Rajat and I came to a conclusion that our train journeys and McDonalds go hand-in-hand and those are the only times we munch on the Royal Chicken McGrills in the entire year, so Chicken McGrill it was for dinner!

Both of us had packed our bags like we were going to Ankleshwar or something and when you carry all those bags into B8 -34 and 37(Yes, not B7- 34 and 37), you end up working out like John Abraham at Gold's Gym, taking all those bags back to the right place. Train journeys are like Flash Mobs - you come, you mingle with the fellow passengers, you go back to normal. Done. The fellow passengers in our case were a family of four(keep the "Meeting the hot chic in the train" fantasies to the movies) in which the Lady insisted that the bottle stands are of no use in these trains and the Husband(A man who noted the time of arrival as 1655 hours and not 4.55pm) quietly agreed. 

"Welcome to Vodafone Maharashtra. Have a pleasant stay."

The good thing about night trains is that people don't go to sleep at 8.30 pm(that's like 5 overs into the IPL match man!). The bad thing about night trains is that they don't serve you soup when the train starts. Half an hour into the journey and the gentleman on the next seat asks the one next to him, "Ye Surat nahin rukegi?". OOPS!So, soupless and giggling we slept. 

"Welcome to Vodafone Gujarat. Have a pleasant stay. We know you're coming back anyways."

What is it about Rajdhanis and breakfasts at 7? Seriously what? Can't a man, who left his village(Gurgaon) to chase a dream at "Shailesh J. Gandhi School of Management" and gave a billion exams in one year, have a good night's sleep on the upper tier? No. The omelette is more important. 

"Welcome to Vodafone Rajasthan. Have a pleasant stay."

The laptops were loaded with movies to fire at the mind because calmness is not acceptable to it. Who wastes time in silence when you have "Babu, you don't care for me anymore!" and "Lets be Friends with Benefits" to gobble it up. I sometimes wonder if train journeys give us the much needed time for reflection and we fritter it away. Anyways, thats the topic of another discussion. But here we were, in the middle of Bharatpur and Ranthambore wildlife sanctuaries and wondering why we haven't even seen even 5% of the beauty that the Indian landscape offers. 

"Welcome to Vodafone Haryana. Pleasant hona ho to ho liyo, koi guarantee na se."

Thank you God for GPS. A hundred kilometers away, the talks about how hot it would be in Delhi and how Saluja Saab's daughter's wedding cost him a few crores brought a smile to our faces. Delhi, the land of show-offs. Time actually kinda flew in this 18 hour stop-less journey(with a calculated average speed of 75 kms/hr) and the end of the journey sweetly coincided with "Maa ki Aankh" from Pyaar ka Punchnama. The shouts of "Sir Taxi? Hotel? Aur kuch?" await me.

"Welcome to Vodafone Delhi. Of course, you'll have a pleasant stay."

Of birthdays and parties!!!

August - the month of birthdays comes to an end today.

With this comes to an end, one of the jolliest 31 days of the year. One goes to school and with Nursery class accompany the big, colorful birthday boards in the class. Thinking now, it feels like it was the Pareto chart, with 20% (the geeks in you can include September as well) of the year contributing to 80% of the birthdays! Birthdays were a pretty uncomplicated affair in school those days with a customary toffee-ka-packet and an in-chorus 'Happy Birthday to you' song. "But those were the good ol' days", as someone rightly said, we weren't expecting Samsung Notes(read iPads) and Galaxys(read iPhones) as gifts and weren't expected to go to Moshe's(read delicious-food-place) for birthday treats. A gathering of relatives and gali-ke-dost was enough to satiate the party animal needs of us, the chote Home-sapiens then. A balloon full of toffees(again!), a room full of looped ribbons and a cake with x+1 candles(where x was your age) were basically our utmost needs of a budday party.

Times changed.Steve Jobs got a job(back). Bill Gates opened the Windows of life. We realized how stupid we were in celebrating birthdays at home when McDonalds had opened shop next door. The ribbons disappeared. The meenu card shone bright. The wafers disappeared. Chicken McGrill died. Relatives disappeared. Isschool-ke-dost were life. Deodorant and Photo-frame companies made a killing because of the following conversations (atleast in Delhi):

Youthful Kid: "Mom, mere/meri dost ka birthday hai!"
Mom: "Deodorant/Photoframe le ja!"

Yes, photos were printed at that time and yes, we had started to westernize and understand that bodies do smell. 

Times changed. Again. Steve Jobs told us that college was crap. Bill Gates had opened a lot of Windows (5 to be precise). The adolescence had given way to youthful(read Engineering/Others) days. Bumps acquired a meaning more than just travelling on the road to the University. The "mera birthday aane wala hai!" feeling was replaced by "Oh shit! mera birthday aane wala hai! Gaya !#!()@*". The launde wanted a treat(read Daaru party) after kicking your arse out. No ladies ok. Engineering college ok. So daaru it was and Kumar Sanu and Nadeem Shravan/Coldplay and Nirvana(for the RKPites) became the need of the late night hour. 

Yes, "Gale mein laal tie" is a fabulous song when you're drunk.

Here I am writing this piece doing my M.Mgmt. and life just came a full circle. The 25th birthday was celebrated with relatives and office and college-ke-dost. The arse was still kicked. The cake was still cut. The DP still happened. And the cocktail of life got poured to a new glass. Just a tad bigger.

Yo! Wassup! Yo!

The auto-wala says it to the fellow auto-wala waiting on the red light. The bus-wala says it to the bus-wala coming from the opposite side in IIT. The student says it to the student coming from the opposite side.
"Aur sab badhiya?" (In the typical "How YOU doin?" style head movement)

Yes. I am badhiya sir. Yes. You really care sir. No. I don't want to give a random smile sir.

It's funny how a funny mix of culture and 'deude'-ism can shape your mannerisms and behavior and make you a complete 'stud'. The language might change from region to region but the intent always remains the same. Non-chalant.

In Gurgaon, it takes the form of "Ke haal se bhai?". Badheeya se bhai.

In Delhi, the 'deude' says the form of "Kya haal hain tereeee?Aur bata?". Tu bata deeeee!

In Chandigarh, it takes the attitude-bhara, "Kiddaaan??". Vadiya bhraava. 

In Ankleshwar(read Gujarat, you illiterate geography masters), it takes the subtle shape of "Kem cho Vebhav-bhai?". Saaru che Ramneek bhai.

In Mumbai, it echoes with bhidhu-ism dissolved in "Kaisa hai boss?". Mazze mein boss. Bas baarish ni rukti.

In Seattle, it goes to another level all altogether, "Yo. Wassup bro?" Yo. I don't know what to say when you ask me Wassup!

Down south in Bengaluru, they don't talk to us.

The handshakes have disappeared. The super confusing basketball-player-type "Yo homey!" punches and chest thumps are here. Touching the feet of elders has disappeared. What remains is what looks like an aerobics move to just twist your abs a bit and stay fit. "Hey Mom! Whats up!". Khote da puttar.

The phenomenon is global, no doubt. The responses more or less the same. 

And then you see girls meeting each other. I always see the guys complaining that there is little variety in their lives in terms of clothing, accessories, bla bla... But when it comes to meeting and greeting each other, we as a species are way more advanced than chics in this case. But mind you, the 'love' they have for each other is incomparable to us. The '<3 <3 <3's and the 'love u babes..mmmmuuuaaaahh...missing yaaaa"s on Facebook are proof of that. You see two girls screaming "Heyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!" and running towards each other with hands all opened up, you can never figure if they're meeting after 5 years or 5 minutes. Such is the loooove. Bitch.