“Have you seen him” I asked Julie, my best friend.

She nodded. “Pink”

Now, as much as I would love Ishaan to be “pink” in complexion, anybody with a sane mind would find it odd that an offspring of a man who was born and brought up in a tropical city like Madras could be described with that rosy an adjective. Either the commentator was kidding or perhaps the definition of pink had changed over the last twenty four hours.

“Pink?” I responded.

“Yes. The word that comes to my mind – Pink.”

“Interesting”

“What is so interesting about it? Haven’t you seen his face you dumbo? How could you remain so calm?” She flared up.

That was when I realized that “Pink” was not what it sounded like.

“Uh, Julie – Exactly what do you mean by ‘Pink’?” I was alarmed.

“Mosquito bites. Do you even realize how dangerous they are?”

I took a deep breath. “I know. What can I do? There are a million mosquitoes out there. The liquid repellents don’t work. The coil – Doctor says NO – Too toxic for the baby. He banned even the repellent creams like Odomos.”

Julie stared at me. “You are hopeless.”

“Why is that?”

“What about a mosquito net?”

“We already have one in Hyderabad. Didn’t want to buy another in Chennai because we are going back to Hyderabad in a week’s time anyway.”

“Till then?” Julie was relentless.

“You tell me”

She told me the solution. Probably it was something to do with a mystical concept known as Woman’s Intuition that she came up with an idea like that. I was dumbfounded to say the least – by the illogical nature of the solution. However I had to try it out at least. I wouldn’t be able to face Julie the next day.

So I went home and switched the AC on. It was as simple as that. Julie instructed me to keep the temperature at least five degrees below the room temperature. Agreed it was Chennai we were talking about. Yet, in the month of December, in a beach facing apartment at ten in the night, the weather felt a bit chilly and I felt like a fool switching on the AC. As per Julie, cold weather drove away mosquitoes.

“But mosquitoes like cold and damp places” I argued with her.

“Yes. But not cold weather. They hate it.”

The next day, little Ishaan woke up with a broad smile on his face. Julie took one long look at the kid and exclaimed. “Why! It worked. He is not so pink anymore.”

I somehow managed to smile. It defied all logic. Why would mosquitoes hate cold weather?

But it worked. The number of mosquito bites had come down drastically. My wife and I threw a party in honor of Julie for coming up with this great suggestion.

So next time you are troubled by mosquitoes, you know what to do. Just bring home an AC!

- Venu

PS: Because of the AC, we had to fully cover Ishaan with two layered blankets. That was why mosquitoes spared him.

A Little Bit of Calvin...

P1010471, originally uploaded by Venu Vedam.

Me and Calvin went to Nellore this weekend. The house may be a bit rundown but our spirits were soaring high :)

I think I haven't posted this on blogspot. You might have already read it. :)

“One black coffee. No sugar please” He told the Café CoffeeDay employee.

Everyday at 1:30 in the afternoon he ordered exactly the same configuration as dessert after lunch – sometimes after skipping lunch.

The girl standing next to him eyed him curiously. “Americanized!” she remarked with a smile on her face.

He was jolted. It was a clear intrusion into his privacy. She had no business accosting him like that. He wanted to tell her how annoying her remark had been.

But he didn’t – mainly because the girl in question was Monalisa Kumari. Twice she had been unanimously elected the Crown Princess of SoftSol, the company both of them worked for.

Monalisa was part Indian part Deutsch. She was fluent in Hindi, Spanish and French apart from Deutsch. She was so beautiful that it was difficult to describe her beauty in words.

He would accept any word spoken by this girl. Guys considered it a privilege to talk to her.

She was still looking at him. He realized he had to respond.

“Not exactly. I love black coffee.”

She nodded, “So you are saying, you loved black coffee ever since you were a kid!”

He thought about it, “No, only in the last five years”

“That is – after you visited the West”

He was surprised, “How do you know I’d been to the West?”

“Oh, that’s pretty easy!” she replied casually, “One: you said Black Coffee. No Sugar and not Black Coffee without Sugar. Two: You said Please! Three: You look quite old. Everyone in this firm of your age had visited the West at least twice.”

He laughed, “One and Two are quite good. But I think it is Three which gave me away!”

“Right Dr. Watson. So you started your tryst with black coffee after an expedition to the West! Am I correct?”

“Yes” he responded.

“Quad Erat Demonstrandum” she smiled.

“That doesn’t prove that I am Americanized” He retorted, “It only proves that I was introduced to black coffee’s virtues in America”

“Same difference, ain’t it?” Monalisa gestured him towards a table nearby.

They walked to the table and occupied it.

He sipped his piping hot black coffee and started talking, “You know! It is not the same. Americanization means – a paradigm shift in the way we think and operate. Just liking your coffee black does not mean you are Americanized. It just means that you are familiar with certain Western practices. I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

She stared into his eyes.

“Whatever it is. I still believe people drink Black Coffee just because it is the in thing you know… and not because they love the taste of it. Who would love that bitter liquid anyways.”

He was offended. She might be the most beautiful girl of the campus. She might be a swift driver of a Swift. She might be a 99 percentiler. But she still had to respect the tastes of her colleagues.

She knew at once there was something wrong. “Oh I am sorry Srini. I didn’t mean to hurt you. You know I really don’t know why people like this black coffee.”

He composed himself and came up with the most daring proposition of his life so far.

“Why not give it a try?”

She was surprised, “Black coffee? Eeeks! Thank you very much. I am pretty much Ok with my Latte – full of Sugar – Soulful!”

He asked her, “Have you ever tried it?”

“No!” came the emphatic answer.

“Alright. Let us play a little game. Tomorrow onwards, every afternoon at 1: 30, we will meet here and have a cup of black coffee – for five days. I suggest you don’t drink any other type of coffee in this period. If at the end of the fifth day you still don’t understand why people drink black coffee, I will stop drinking it.”

There was silence. Pin drop. She eyed him suspiciously. It was evident that he wanted to spend more time with her. She knew it.

“Tomorrow at 13:30. Same place.” She said.

Day 1:

Monalisa examined carefully the contents of the cup.

“Do I really have to drink this?” she asked no one in particular. He didn’t respond. He knew she cared a damn for his answer.

And then she took the first sip. Her facial expressions changed at the speed of light. He waited. She eventually came back to this world.

He didn’t say a thing.

She silently walked over to the trash can and threw the coffee cup into it.

“Let us get out of here. I want to show you something.” She gestured him to follow her.

Half an hour later – they were seated in a dilapidated dhabha off NH45 twenty kilometers from the office.

He sipped the three rupee coffee sans sugar. It was delightful.

“What do you infer from this?” she asked him.

“That coffee in a NH45 dhabha twenty kilometers from the office tastes really good?”

She laughed, “You do have a sense of humor”

He smiled, “Maybe yes. What is the point?”

She sighed. “One way of looking at it – pay 3 rupees and have a lovely coffee. Or pay ten rupees and drink the rubbish you’ve been drinking till now.”

He was stupefied, “you want me to drive twenty kilometers to this dhabha just because it offers me coffee at 3 rupees?”

“Think about that” she took her purse out.

Day 2:

Srini was curious. Monalisa sipped her black coffee and told him, “You know! We don’t have to do this. I am most certainly not going to like this liquid.”

“We decided. We follow.” Srini was adamant.

Monalisa winked, “All this just for black coffee?”

Srini thought for a moment, “I am enjoying these meetings”

“Friends?” she extended her hand.

“No” He was firm.

There was a stunned silence. She was swept off her feet. “What did… why?”

“I don’t think we can ever be friends. You are too beautiful to be a friend.”

She stared at him, “When Harry Met Sally?”

“Partly yes” he responded.

“More than twice?” she asked.

“More than twenty times. I own the DVD.”

“Aren’t you taking it a little too seriously? It is possible for a girl and a boy to be just friends. Give me a break. We see so many such friends in the food court everyday.”

He shook his head, “I don’t want to talk about others. Myself – I am attracted to you. Wait! I am not saying anything wrong here. All I am suggesting is that we can never be friends.”

She finished the black coffee in three quick gulps, “Goodbye Harry!”

Day 3

She was dressed in a black chudidaar. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“You are staring.” She said gently.

He was caught off guard. “Not my mistake”

She smiled and sipped the black coffee. “You know what! This is turning out to be a very interesting incident.”

“Drinking black coffee?” He asked her.

“Drinking black coffee with you.” She looked into his eyes. He lowered them.

“Why are you so nervous when I am talking to you?”

He looked up. “I told you yesterday.”

“Srini, you do realize this is not a movie.”

He nodded. “Yes”

“Real life is not reel life.”

He cringed, “Thanks for the cliché Monalisa!”

Her face turned red. She kept the black coffee cup on the table and stood up. “What do you think you are Mister? Just because I am drinking coffee with you – doesn’t give you the right to say whatever that comes to your mind.”

He was surprised, “All for that pathetic cliché?”

For a while neither of them talked. “Coffee’s on you.” She said.

He agreed.

Day 4

“As such life is a great mystery.” Srini told her.

They were driving down the highway NH45 to the dhabha. It was a pleasant afternoon. Traffic was scarce.

Monalisa laughed, “What a cliché”

Srini shook his head, “It is the truth.”

“So you speak truth and nothing but the truth. When I say something I speak cliché and only clichés”

He smiled. “You have a way with words.”

She didn’t reply.

“What are you thinking Monalisa?” He prompted her again.

“Mona. Call me Mona.” She deftly swerved right throwing Srini off the seat.

“What the hell was that?” He was dismayed.

“I was avoiding a speeding buffalo you idiot.” She yelled, “God! I hate driving in India.”

Srini was silent. They reached the dhabha.

She ordered two cups of coffee. He observed silently. She knew there was something wrong.

“OK. What is it?”

“What?”

“Why are you so silent?”

“Nothing. I am OK.”

“Idiot?”

“Yes”

“Can’t I call you idiot, dear?”

“How can you? I want to be treated with dignity…” He abruptly stopped and stared at her. “What did you just say?”

“Can’t I call you idiot, Dear?” She ruffled his hair, “Can’t I?”

“Wait. Whatever happened to being platonic friends?” He asked her.

She didn’t reply.

“So Harry met Sally?”

She nodded. “I saw the ending again yesterday.”

Srini couldn’t suppress his quirky smile. “A lovely little fool I know told me sometime back that real life was not reel life.”

“Yes. Don’t push it though.” She sounded cold.

Day 5

“I still don’t like this black coffee. Will it really make a difference? It is the final day – right?” She pleaded him.

“The agreement is binding Ms Monalisa Kumari” He was ruthless.

“No way out?” She wouldn’t give up.

“There is” he smiled.

“Great! What is it?”

“Number one: Since you don’t want to finish the fifth day black coffee, I need not stop drinking black coffee”

“With no sugar?”

“Or without sugar.”

“OK. What is number two?”

“You tell me what made you talk to me on the first day.”

She didn’t expect that. “What?”

He was serious. “Tell me Mona. Why did you initiate the conversation on the very first day?”

“I thought you were cute”

“Bulls. There were many more cute guys around. More handsome and dying to talk to you.”

She looked around. “I can’t see any?”

“Don’t change the topic. Tell me what made you talk to me? A bet with your friend?”

She stared at him. “You knew!”

“Yes. Unfortunately your friend is my friend’s girlfriend. He told me last night when I was raving about you.”

She stood up; held his hands and said, “It all started because of that bet I agree Srini. However our black coffee encounters introduced the real Srini to me. The bet did not govern my actions after the first day. Please believe me.”

He shook his head. “And all the time I thought you were really interested in me.”

She was horrified to see tears in his eyes. “Srini please. I like you. I really really like you. I am extremely sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. But tell me Srini… How would I ever have known the real Srini if it were not for the bet with my friend? You are an introvert. You don’t talk to girls. How could I have found you otherwise?”

He kept his black coffee on the table and walked away. “Srini. I said Sorry.” She shouted completely ignoring the other people in the cafeteria.

He stopped, turned back and told her – “Convince me.”

The End

Vishnu told me this morning that he was not able to handle the stress of project management. His eyes lost focus; he was muttering incomprehensibly and asking me for advice. I told him not to take professional career so seriously. I told him to adopt a “Take it Easy” approach towards his job. It may not help him retain that Star Performer tag but it will work wonders for his heart and his blood pressure.

“When you are in the office, you shouldn’t think about home. When you are back home you shouldn’t think about office.” I told him.

Whether or not Vishnu will heed to my advice and thereby forego any chance of getting promoted up the ladder is best left to Vishnu’s discretion. However I’ve been thinking about myself since this morning.

“Am I actually practicing what I have preached?”

The answer is a big no. Just a few days back it was the appraisal that made me tense. Before that, it was the release of the third phase of my project. The project deadlines were fast approaching and the MPP (Microsoft Project Plan) was not getting balanced at all. I had burnt the midnight oil many times during the last six months to get the MPP back in shape every week so that the status report numbers looked sane enough for the senior management.

What was I telling him – Vishnu?

And then my kid was born. It was probably the best day of my life. April 14^th. My wife had traveled to Hyderabad for her delivery. I was in Chennai. Every Friday I had to board a late night flight (because it offered the cheapest ticket) to Hyderabad and every Monday, the early morning flight from Hyderabad to Chennai. This arrangement granted me two days with my wife and my new born son every week.

My son woke up at three in the night and slept only at eight in the morning. So those two days in Hyderabad were spent without much of sleep. Hence my Mondays were awful because of the travel and the sleeplessness.

Add to this the 100 kilometers I have to travel everyday to and from work. Three and a half hours are gone for travel everyday. It means I am out from my apartment at 7 in the morning and back to the apartment not before 10 in the night. So my servant maid cannot come to work on weekdays. Weekends I am not in Chennai. So I am paying my servant maid 500 rupees per month for doing absolutely nothing. My apartment is now in shambles – full of dust and ruled by lizards.

Everyday I go home at ten in the night and pray to God before I open the front door that the electricity board should not have disconnected power supply. It’s been ages since I gave the electricity bill to the apartment complex errands guy. I have not been able to track him ever since because of my odd timings.

I have to renew my car insurance and bike insurance. I have to pay the road tax which is due now. I have to get a new set of clutch plates for my rusting Santro. All these have been pending since times immemorial – since Genesis. I just don’t have the right attitude or the time to deal with these inconsistencies in life. I think I don’t have it in me to take life head on. I understand I have to shuttle between Hyderabad and Chennai as my personal life demands – and stay in Chennai as my professional life dictates.

My wife cannot come to Chennai with the baby because we don’t know anybody here in Chennai to take care of the baby while we both are out everyday. Our parents are not in a position to relocate to Chennai. So the only option seems to be leaving the baby there in Hyderabad with the grandparents and both of us shuttling between Chennai and Hyderabad every weekend. The very thought of leaving my kid there pains me immensely because I believe that my son has the right to grow up under the watchful eyes of my wife and me. Also I miss him terribly. Two days a week is not enough for me.

As I think about all these for writing this article, I realize something. I am doing justice to neither my work nor my family. I am a confused soul. Either both of us get transferred to Hyderabad or both of us quit and join some company in Hyderabad seems to be the only solution to this problem.

So what is the problem? I love the company I currently work for. I don’t want to quit it. They can’t transfer me now because of the current priorities. I hope at least my wife gets a transfer and moves to Hyderabad.

As for me! I will keep looking for those cheap ticket deals.

Robert Frost had once said – I can sum up all I know about life in three words: It goes on. Scott Peck had to add his own three words to this startling discovery of Frost. Peck said – Life is difficult.

What differentiates the first set of three words from the second set? The first set is a statement – a wonderful explanation of how life worked. The second set however goes one step further. It is a prelude to a more practical advice by Scott Peck. Accept the fact that life is difficult. Once you believe that life is difficult, it becomes easier for you to sail through it. Of course these are not his exact words because I am quoting from my memory.

So where does all this lead to? Even though life is difficult, given a chance it does go on – unhindered unless you decide to call it off in distress over some petty issue. Feeling suicidal is something most people experience at some point in their life. While most sane human beings come out of it unscathed, some unfortunate souls succumb to that pressure.

There is a very strong reason why I consider myself a sane human being. Despite being in the software industry for more than eight years, I still manage to laugh – go home by 8pm (at least three times out of five) and don’t think twice before renting out the DVD of Chicken Little.

So why am I considering suicide now? Why has that dangerous thought entered my mind at all? Imagine this. You are going to a wonderful place called Hyderabad to meet a wonderful person – your wife and a handsome baby – your son. You go to the railway station only to find that your AC Two Tier ticket has qualified for an auto upgrade to First AC. You have never been inside a First AC cabin. So you are all excited to see the luxurious interiors of the AC Cabin.

Enough reasons to contemplate suicide? Of course not. My date with lady luck comes to an end rather unexpectedly.

“Honey, this is Cabin B” a voice shouts from outside. You look up and find a young man followed by his lady love entering the cabin. They look at you disapprovingly. Sometimes it is very difficult to hide the feelings. The eyes give them all away. What is this scum bag doing here? He is Sleeper Class material.

You quietly come out and check the chart to find that you are dealing with a potential honeymoon couple. You don’t want to go back there but you have to because your 2^nd AC berth has already been allotted to yet another fortunate 3^rd AC ticket holder. (And his berth to a delighted Sleeper Class fellow.)

So you trod your way back and find that the cabin door is locked. You knock twice and close your eyes. Two minutes later, the door opens. You go in and occupy the window seat and stare into the pitch black universe outside very carefully avoiding looking at the couple. They are by now settled on one berth – the guy reading a magazine with the girl in his lap. They have forgotten long back that they are not alone in the cabin.

You never prayed before in your life. Although you are not exactly an atheist you have always believed that God has better things to do in his tenure as God – like rolling dice – than to take care of the occupants of an utterly insignificant blue green planet perched in the periphery of a small galaxy in the far end of the universe. If you were God, where would you be? My guess: The Restaurant at the end of the universe. The other end I mean.

So you normally don’t want to disturb Him from his dicey sojourns. However this particular setup defies everything you have so far learnt about the human race and you start suspecting that God is really really playing those dice too often.

You find yourself – to your own amazement – praying to God that the fourth person in the cabin should be a man – preferably in the age group 45 – 70 so that you can have some decent company. You escape from the cabin once again to check the chart. The chart tells you that the fourth person is actually a thirty seven year old male. You perform a neat somersault on the platform and go back to your cabin. You enter the cabin confidently – even offer an apologetic smile to the couple.

The train starts five minutes later. You realize that the thirty seven year old male probably is stuck up in Luz Corner or Madhya Kailash of Chennai in the worst traffic jam of the century and is definitely not going to give you company in the First AC Cabin that day.

The Ticket Collector comes a minute later – checks our tickets and takes a philosophical approach – “God is strange. Why! Everyone in the 1 AC cabins and coupe today are II AC passengers with free upgrades.”

You nod. The gentleman and the lady still have that look on their faces. Moreover the lady whispers something and both of them laugh. They inspect the novel you are reading.

By the way, let me tell you what novel you are reading – False Impression by Jeffrey Archer.

There are some people who like to show off their electronic gadgets. They wait till everyone in the vicinity is comfortably seated. Then they pull out their latest cell phone or worse, their laptops and furiously start typing with one ear firmly latched on to the cell phone. Yeah! Right! Absolutely! I am working on it. I can finish it off by the time I get down at Secunderabad. No. No issues. Yep. Call me if you need me. Anytime of the night.

You are not one of them. You have a laptop but you hide it so that others don’t notice it and brand you as one of the aforementioned heroes. However when you hear the following conversation by His Highness and Her Majesty, you make that crucial cross over to being a show off guy and pull out your laptop and the Bose noise reduction headphones.

He: See what I bought?

She: What is it? Looks like a magazine.

He: laughs loudly. You got it. It IS a magazine

She: giggles. I know, you dumbo.

He: I am not dumb. You sure are. Tell me what 345 multiplied by 43 is.

She: Ha ha ha. Very funny. You tell me.

He: I asked you the question.

She: You tell me the answer. You don’t know right? Ha ha ha dumbo.

He: Fourteen thousand eight hundred and thirty five.

She: gasps. O My God.

He: Yeah I know.

She: You knew the answer. You did the homework. You are bad.

He: I can do anything for you.

At this point you check your ears to see if there is any blood oozing out. You keep the headphones aside and go to the compartment door to mull over the idea of jumping out. One step on the wrong side, you realize that you are sane enough to rent Chicken Little DVD, smile and go back home at 8pm on three days in a week. You realize you shouldn’t be thinking about suicide at all. So you take that step back and get back to the cabin hoping the conversation has ended.

In there, you realize you are pretty much in for a nice second innings and prolonged climax.

She: What magazine is it?

He: Digit. It comes with three free DVDs full of games. I should have brought my laptop.

She: Why do you want to play those games? Play with me na!

Both of them cuddle and giggle. You put the Bose headphones on and play Ghantasala’s Vatapi Ganapathim Bhaje…But still their conversation makes its way to your ear drums quite clearly.

He: How can I?

She: Yeah I know.

He: We should have got the coupe.

She: Too bad. I don’t know why they didn’t give us the coupe. It was given to two French middle aged Sisters.

They laugh loudly.

She: You should have bought something else.

He: You mean instead of Digit?

She: Yes

He: What?

She: says something in his ears.

They both roll on the floor laughing.

You spring on to your feat – almost sending your laptop to the floor. They look at you puzzled. You don’t care. You climb on to the upper berth and hide yourself inside a blanket hoping they’d stop talking and start doing something else – with minimal sounds. You start praying God.

And the conversation stops abruptly. You dare not to come out of the blanket till the train reaches Secunderabad.

You get down in Secunderabad and go to the nearest temple first to say Thanks.