I’ve been requested and ordered; yes both at the same time by someone who CAN have that effect on me to be very careful about what I type on a public blog like this. Now I’m not sure about why he thinks that people care about what I write but then, assuming that they do care – I thought I never bought any personal stories upfront. Anyway, I think I see what you mean and I’m going to keep a very strict, no personal and/or family related entry rule on this journal hence on. I mean, seriously; its just a few of my close friends who visit this place once every 6 months when they are bored out of their wits. Damn! Sometimes, all I need is some appreciation. I don’t really care about who reads here and to be frank, I don’t really care about what they think or feel about whatever it is that I write. I just find it immensely satisfying to squeeze out all those brain cells that run my memory module and I like painting a word picture. It’s mostly for me, but then it’d be a lie if I say that it’s just that. I like it when people read at my place. I don’t feel obligated to blog or its not that I’m compelled to put my feelings and emotions into words. Seriously, that kinda hokum doesn’t work with me. I blog – because I love writing. Why else would I make up random stories? My friends know me very well and they’d testify that I make up stories. I’m one of those people who’d transform a penny into a hundred rupee note out of thin air. I just talk crap and most people I care about know what to take out of all that I say. So the reason why I blog is simple – I like this pseudo reality that I live in. In fact, I can’t live without it. I need to, every now and then pee all over it and leave my mark. I cannot quit writing; EVER and I will not. As far as keeping the private personal part out of picture is concerned, I will try. I promise.
I’ve not mentioned this before but what scares me shitless is the thought of an ant entering my ear while I’m asleep. I’m not sure why it’s just the ear that I’m bothered about because the heat these days is kinda killing and I’m wearing nothing but very short shorts when I sleep. Whatever. It just worries me when I see ants crawling around the place. The tiny black ones seem harmless and tickly but they can create a havoc once they get into your soft spots. And if you’re lucky enough to have one of those giant red ants get close to your ears then you’re in for a treat. Ohh yeah, my room is crawling with those. I wonder where they come from and what they find on my table, the bed, my watch and even the mirror. I mean, what is it that you’re looking for you puny dangerous creature? Your place is in the kitchen. Why don’t you just go away? How many more of you’ll do I have to smash and feel guilty for before you just disappear from my room? Its 2:00 AM and I need to sleep but I caught one of your step sisters wiping her antenna while resting comfortably on my pillow and that’s just gross and unclean. I thought you guys were more organized. And what the hell is on my pillow? Get out of my face, will you? And tell her to be never seen on my pillow again.
Coming to terms with my weak understanding of Kannada and humiliated by my less than modest effort at learning the language of the state I live in; I’ve come to the conclusion that road rage is an activity that cannot be avoided for long and that ‘nin akkan…’ essentially means “Your sister…” this I managed to decipher after numerous phone calls and asking around. I’m a safe driver. You’d spot me driving calmly moving close to 70 kmph when there isn’t much traffic and provided the roads can take that kinda speed. Now I don’t say that I’m a good driver but I’m alright at the wheels. I do have my push and pull game going on with the clutch but what the hell? That wouldn’t make me any lesser with judging the distance from a vehicle on either sides. I keep a safe distance and I do not overtake unless I’m in a hurry to leave. I remember once being kept at 20kmph because there was this bullock cart wobbling ahead of me and I thought the cow looked tired. I did not want to alarm the poor thing. So, yeah, that’s how I drive. I’m confident on the wheels and I seldom make mistakes. This is what I genuinely feel and its been alright for me thus far. I mean, its been over 2 years since I’ve had a car and I’ve never been into the shit that was waiting for me the other day.
So I’m driving, my usual self. Calm and lost in the music playing softly on my sides. The glasses were rolled up since it was burning outside and I kept a low profile on the road that day since I was early to work. I wasn’t even committing to my usual maneuvers that day and I was nodding my head softly as I whistled to “Kendi Pom” imagining Chi-Chi and Salman do the jingle. That song peps me up. I managed to quickly reach office that day. I’m not sure. Come to think of it now, was I speeding? Did I hit someone on the road? Random pedestrian? Some cab guy? I’m not sure. I stopped at this signal and this sumo screeched to a halt to the right of my car. All I could see was him yelling and turning red with anger as I looked on, confused and trying to understand what he was saying. He was visibly upset with something I did and I did not want to get into a squabble with a stupid cabbie in the middle of the road. I ignored all that he seemed to say. It almost seemed like he was a mime artist trying to visually explode my head with his hatred. I looked at him and gave one of those famous ‘fuck you’ expressions, shifted to first gear and took off. By now, he had stepped out of his cab and had broken into a swift jog. He reached my car and banged his hand very hard at my rear glass and I thought he nearly shattered it. This ticked me off and I thought I’d get out and ask him about what the fuck he thought he was doing! I could hear him swearing and yes, you know when someone is calling you names, whichever language it is. The both of us were on opposite ends of the world with a huge line separating us. The line contained, language, a general understanding of the world, education, an upbringing and yes, finally, Kannada. Everyone else around me knew what he was saying whereas I did not. So for everyone else, I was actually the biggest jackass they encountered that day. After a lot of pointless rambling he decided to give me a push which would be a physical representation to all his anger. Here, as instinctive as I am, I returned the favor. He was a tiny little man and he stumbled and fell down. By this time, I guess he figured out that I wasn’t scared of a fight. I actually was. Crap! I did not want to get into trouble with a cabbie. He’d have his bunch back at his parking lot. For all you know, you’d read about me being killed in a squabble between two “youths” heh, weird ways that newspapers have of portraying “incidents” Its pathetic, fights that is. Especially if it’s on the middle of the road. The small little one that I had quickly ended with the guys in the cab deciding to intervene and drag him back. I watched them leave and hopped into my car and quickly drove into my building. Ahhh! I was relieved. He wasn’t going to get in however hard he tried. I then nearly ran upstairs and told everyone about what happened and prepped them up for a fight – just in case. A bunch of nerdy IT guys, picture that? I was doomed.
I haven’t had any mishaps after that date and I hope he forgets my face. At least I have. Forgiveness is a trait of the best! Sadly, there is a humongous amount of stuff in my head that I wanna talk about right now but its late and I’m sleepy. I nearly forgot. I cut my hair short. It’s the old school navy cut now. I think I look presentable in it and I prefer that to a Rock star who failed to make a mark kinda look. Well, that’s what people thought I looked like. That being said I’m off for the night. Night ya’ll!