Venetian, Las Vegas

The Venetian Casino in Las Vegas, this photo was taken at 2 A.M..

See it here: http://flic.kr/p/cP82tL

The Runner – Part 2 – The End of the Road

Photo courtesy ~Samuel Sharpe~

The Beginning – Runner – Part 1

The cold night, the crawling rats, the blanket of dark sky dotted with twinkling stars, the hardness of the park bench, I did not have to close my eyes, I was living a nightmare. The days were spent scavenging and begging for food. The search for a job was futile. I thought of memsahib all the time. I was extremely hungry. I was angry all the time. I wanted nourishment. I also had a fever. Everytime I passed by the bakery I would look at the hot white loaf of bread, with light brown bottoms, staring at me with goggle-eyes. They looked scrumptious. They were kept on the counter, in the front of the bakery to attract people with money. My hunger and fever got the better of me. I could no longer withstand the charms of the processed wheat flour dough. I sneaked one loaf, I turned back with an awkward moment. A seasoned thief would have stolen the bread in one swift singular motion, like a hawk going after its prey. I being a rookie, commited the crime in a set of disjoint moments, which was spotted by the shop owner. I started running, but being hungry and sick did not help. I was caught and taken to the nearby police station.

The police station was quite large, I was taken to the head constable. He looked like a furious man. I did not have to steal a loaf of bread to make him furious. His face looked naturally furious. I was afraid, he gave me a look of disappointment. I was still looking at the roof over my head. It had been three weeks since I had a roof over my head. A snap of fingers by the head constable got me back to reality. Then the yelling started, it was piercing my ears like little pins of shreik. I could not run from this. Once the yelling subsided, I was sure I was going to be thrown in jail. The Head Constable said he was letting me go with a warning. I was overjoyed. After all the joy gushed out, I realised it was back to the hunger and scavenging. The happiness was so brief. I realised if I was in jail, I would have food, a place to stay, company. Alas! I had been freed with a warning. Before leaving Daroga Saheb (Head Constable) asked me for my address. I told him I was homeless, but I always go to the library in the daytime. Daroga Saheb kept looking at me through his telescopic glasses with twitchy eyes. I felt he had a condition with his eyes, but the twitching was intermittent.

I got out of the police station and back onto the streets. I was still hungry, I decided to beg at a traffic signal rather than bring forth the ire of Daroga Saheb. Those twitchy eyes, the frowny face still gave me the chills. I tried a couple of times to go to a studio and try my luck. They asked me to leave, thinking I am a beggar. When I persisted, they threatened to call the cops. A few days went by, my bollywood dream began dwindling. I was seeing “The End” before my movie began. I started thinking of going back to Memsahib, she would forgive me and take me back. I started begging and saving money to buy tickets to go home. I was returning to my palace. I was going to run from Bollywood.

The days went by I was getting good at begging. I knew the right times , the patterns , the kind of people who were willing to part with their money to help the unfortunate. I needed to beg for another week to be able to save money to buy my return tickets. I continued going to the library daily after the morning rush hour. The books helped me escape, I was able to float out of my current state and imagine being in a world created by the author. I was sitting with my book on a corner chair hidden from the view of people. I felt safe. The librarian was a good natured lady who liked me. She helped me pick my books, my adventures. She did not judge me by my appearance. I was glad. I hoped everyone in the world were as kind as her and memsahib. I was sitting in my chair lost in the fantasy world when suddenly I heard footsteps coming towards me. I assumed it must be the librarian, so I continued reading my book, the footsteps stopped in front of me, I raised my eyes a little, it was not the librarian. They were size 10 brown polished shoes, I was afraid to look, I had seen those shoes before, I had seen them at the police station. Those shoes belonged to the frowny faced, twitchy eyed Daroga Sahib. I tried recalling if I had done anything wrong. I immediately fell at his feet and started apologizing for any wrong I had commited. He asked me to stand up, looked at me, gave me a C-shaped smile and told me to calm down. If I had not done anything wrong why did the Daroga Sahib come to the library for. I was confused. He asked me to come out with him. I walked beside him. The library door opened, we were back into the day, the sun was shining hard. I saw a beautiful black Jaguar standing outside. Daroga Sahib pointed me towards the car and told me something that got me thinking of a million possibilities in a fraction of second. Our brain processes things so fast. An entire lifetime of imagination can be compressed into a snap of second, I could be living in a large palace, bathe in a sauna, star in my own movie, have a Bollywood Ending. The words that came out of Daroga Sahib’s mouth were “He’s your Father”. After the moment of extravagance, reality set in. An old man with furry grey brow, a sharp moustache, partially wrinkled forehead, white uniform and a white cap steps out of the Jaguar. He was my Dad. I forgot about Bollywood, I forgot about the palace, the sauna. A strange feeling of happiness gushed in, seemed like my run was complete. I was still clueless, but I rushed forward and hugged him, he did not mind my dirty clothes. He hugged me as if he did not want to let me go. There were tears rolling down his eyes. He kept apologizing, I said it was ok. I felt a sense of completeness.

My dad narrated to me the flashback. I was a naughty kid, my parents were travelling from Mumbai to our village, my parents were sleeping, when I got of the bus, the bus left and I was left stranded in an unknown place. My father kept coming to the police station everyday and showed Daroga Sahib my photo. I now realised why the Daroga Sahib kept twitching his eyes when he looked at me. This was better than a Bollywood ending. My run had finally stopped, I was home. I had reached the end of the Road. It was time to rest.

The End

The Runner – Part 1

Photo courtesy ~Hamed Saber~

The sun was beating down on the reddish brown footpath.. The little sand particles gleamed like little diamonds. They reminded me of those little bags of diamonds that were smuggled from one country to another in Bollywood movies. I have never seen a real diamond in my life but I like the way they look on TV.  I was brought back to reality by the motorcyclist behind me, he had somehow got on to the footpath. It was as if the big red bus had pushed him of the street.. I walked on and reached Iyengar’s bakery. I ordered the two eggs and a bread that memsahib had ordered. Memsahib belonged to a middle class family, she was a very nice person. I was staying at their place for ten years now. I broke out of my orphanage at 10, because life there was monotonous.. I ended up begging on the street. One day when memsahib was passing by, she stopped and took me in. I was asked if I would like to go back to the orphanage. I refused to go. She allowed me to stay at her place. She educated me. I helped her in her work. I was given a room. This is the first  time I had an entire room to myself.  I treated it like my palace.. I was extremely lucky. It was so much better than the orphanage, I had my own freedom, I wasn’t a pea in a pea-pod. I was an individual here. I used to sit outside my little room and watch TV..  I loved watching Hindi movies. They always ended on a happy note. I wanted to be happy.

I always had this feeling, I was born for greatness. I always wandered Bollywood would be my ultimate destination. I always felt safe when I watched Bollywood movies. I escaped into a world of ultimate happiness. The songs, the jokes, the huge mansions, the fancy cars and the make believe rich parents. Life was good. I totally forgot work, orphanage, street sounds for 2 and a half hours. I forgot me, I was the protagonist. Problems disappeared. I always suggested to Memsahib, I wanted to go to Mumbai. She always said it was a bad idea. Life is not as easy as they show it in Bollywood movies.

I was a runner, I wrote a letter thanking memsahib. I bid farewell to my palace, picked up my moneybox, shoved it into my bag and slowly sneaked out into the darkness of the night. Memsahib must have been disappointed, but a bird has to fly away from its nest when it learns to fly. She taught me to fly and I will always be grateful for that.

I caught a bus for Mumbai, I felt excited and sad. I felt like the day I ran from the orphanage ten years ago. This time I had a goal, I was going to work in Bollywood and life was going to be happy. I had done my research, I was a good dancer. I practiced acting in front of the mirror for the last five years. My only hindrance was I still looked like a kid. Memsahib had told me, I still looked like I did ten years back. I did not mind that. They could not say no to me. I was prepared. The bus journey was calm. The chitter chatter of the fellow passengers was like a chorus song. The sound of the rickety bus sounded like Shiva Mani’s drums. The car horns sounded like shehnai. Bollywood had beckoned.

The sun was still getting up. The sky was a mix of bluish grey portion of day and a dark grey portion of night, with a few stars, half a moon, half a sun.. The planetary bodies were still half asleep. Bollywood was wide awake. The roads were full. The people walked around with purpose. Nobody seemed to notice me, but that was short lived. I was going to be hunted for autographs. I was awakened by a rickshaw guy. I declined. I asked around and found a place to stay. I could afford the place for only two weeks. My next goal was to find a job.

I set off into battle into the hustle-bustle of Mumbai. It was like getting into a local bus in my hometown, a push here, a shove there, or you were left stranded alone in the lonely bus stand. Every job here had competition. I was stunted by my limited knowledge of Hindi and my baby face. People were not sure I was mature enough to handle responsibility. Buses came and went, I kept getting stranded. The magic of Bollywood was not working. It had been two weeks, there was no song sequence celebrating my success. My reserve money was spent, I was lonely, hungry and out on the streets. I wanted to run. I could not, I was getting pulled into the quicksand.

~~INTERMISSION~~

The Road to end of the Horizon..

Denver, CO. This is what happens when you borrow someone else’s GPS.. Apparently the GPS was set to a toll-free roads. We were late to our destination, but we got this scenic drive which was worth every minute wasted.. New Resolution: drive in new cities using Toll free setting on the GPS.. 🙂

See it here: http://flic.kr/p/brVHXB

The Weekend Seeker looking for a Holiday Destination : Munnar

Photo courtesy ~kcbimal~

Was sitting at home and planning my next trip and I came to a realization that a blog post which would help people utilize the research would be highly beneficial. They can use this as a guide when they get up one morning and decide to hire a cab, catch a bus, ride a train ,board a flight or just drive down to Gods own Country and have a relaxing time. Munnar was a place that popped into my mind . I put forth the idea in our everyday Lunch forum and I got quite a few kick backs, reasons and thoughts . So I took it upon myself to pitch Munnar to them like an advertising campaign. Sell them a holiday, convince them that they needed some stress free time.

Photo courtesy ~kcbimal~

Munnar is a hill station in Kerala (Gods own country) and is situated in Idduki district. By the way, Kerala is one of the two states which is located in the southern tip of India. Its a truly beautiful place. And most of the hill stations in South India have tea estates. Something about steps of green vegetation on top of hills make city folks completely forget all the stress that they accumulate. Add slight caressing rain to that and they are overjoyed. They sputter around like mustards in a frying pan.

Photo courtesy ~syam~

Ok getting back to the point. I decided to list out the reasons why we needed to go to this place : –

1. Being a tea estate, they would have amazing tea. The cold misty weather with a cup of tea(chai), with both your hands wrapped around the tea cup, every breathe you take a puff of mist escapes out of your mouth, thats what we live for. Those little moments of perfect harmony.

Photo courtesy ~tornado_twister~

2. Top station: I see everybody mentioning this spot. According to my research it is a located near the Tamilnadu Kerala border, 37 kilometers from Munnar. It looks like a photographers delight. With some budding photographers in our group, I think I can use this point. The photo’s of Top station gives meaning to the phrase “Being on Cloud Nine”. You can take a jeep to this place, catch a local bus or just drive.

3. Mattupati Dam :- This is a picnic spot. My friends love picnics. So would be an ideal place to just kickback relax and cook some picnicky food. Also, they have boat rides and elephant safari’s and it is a Photographers delight. The view also looks to be breathtaking.

4. Kolukumalai Tea Factory :- The Chai Gang loves tea. What do you do when you want to trap Bugs Bunny; just hang a carrot in front of him . Watz up doc!! Take them to a tea factory, show them how tea is made and let them buy some aromatic organic tea which is grown on those green step covered hills. Also they have some beautifully scenic routes on-route to this destination.

I think these places should seal the deal and get us some travelers, all dressed up in cozy warm clothes, to drive to Gods own country, sip a cup of warm tea and say “That is one chilled out weekend”.

The Washington Monument – The Cherry Blossom Claw on the Foreground..

See it here: http://flic.kr/p/bp2UDr

The fact that it being the Cherry Blossom season and the presence of the beautiful Washington Monument in the background was too pleasing to my eyes. I could not stop myself from taking this snap.. A piece of my memory, neatly converted into a image file tucked cosily on my tiny SD card which allowed me to relive that memory every time I opened my Picasa.

Sleepy Joe..

Photo courtesy ~ jinterwas~

This poem was written during my college times

The mind was wandering,
The neurons needed gardening,
The plants need manure,
Our mind also needs a lure,
Its like a beast of burden,
Always requiring a warden,
Killing time is like hell,
For the mind it is like a bottomless well,
The time is not ticking,
The hunger also accompanying,
The teacher asking to concentrate,
The mind does not want to germinate..
I want to escape,
Wow its 12 o’clock, time for a break

The Rock..

The waves come and hit me hard..
They hope I move at-least a quarter yard,
My fate is made, they cant make me move,
Someday I hope to be a poet’s muse..

Alone I stand in the turbulent sea,
Trying hard to set myself free,
But I am grounded in this dreaded earth,
I live and die in my place of birth..

Point A to Point B..

Photo courtesy ~Brenda-Starr~

I am cutting through the wind at break neck speeds. The wind cooling the side of my cheeks. The whoosh of the wind, rattling of the various parts of the chariot, children screaming, the nonchalant chit chat of the people down below are vibrating on my ear drums. Its like a little kid using my ear drum as a trampolin to jump up and down. I am oblivious of all these happenings. I am not worried of the pending work, I am chilled about the voracious todo list, which keeps growing like the bean stalk.. My mind is engrossed in its own world, making pictures which will seize to exist in a matter of milliseconds. I sometimes feel, the world is an illusion (just like in matrix) and we are all a part of a huge atom.. And earth and all the other planets are little electrons rotating around a nucleus. Maybe our world is a atom present in a giant ball, which a kid from a giant world is playing with. The similarities are uncanny. The switch between the imaginary and real is quick, the eyes closed thoughts seem to be forgotten fast and are replaced with reality of the real world.. Blobs of cytoplasm standing in hordes waiting for public transport that takes them from point A to point B. A mystery which detective moi would like to solve one day.. My point B is “Mission Impossible – Ghost Protocol”. As soon as i am done with that, i will think of point C.. Till then Chao..

The Chai Crew…

Photo courtesy -striatic-

The eerie silence is in the air,
It’s like Rapunzel in her tower of dispair,
Silence is afraid and it wants to move,
Make way, here comes the Chai crew .

The crystals go to the bottom of the cup,
The Tea bag and milk make the crux,
The arresting stress, gives a boo-hoo,
Move over, here comes the Chai crew

The laughter and giggles cover the air,
The jokes are hidden unaware,
Sad tears are history, happy tears are anew,
Move over, here comes the Chai crew

The dark transforms to light,
The smiles turn to bright,
New Relations begin to brew,
Take a bow, here comes the Chai crew..