Quantum of a sole-ass!

(Disclaimer: This is not a review of any movie; the author intends to use his freedom of expression to vent out his frustration and provide some solace to himself)

Let me declare first that I am not a big ‘Bond-fan’ or something. I admire Bond-girls more than Mr.007’s gadgets & heroics, more than admiration bond is worth for my jealousy (for obvious reason). Not getting carried away by visual delight index but the Romance scenes in Bond movies have got more practical value than the extra-ordinary action scenes.

Enough of self-defense, the point I want to make is, Bond movies have been value for money so far… if they disappoint in one aspect they make it up with something unique may it be the actions sequences or camerawork , that’s my perception about majority foreign movies.

First of all, I (rather my Indian mind, overwhelmed by Hollywood films) could never agree that the film which involves so much money, sorry for the understatement, I meant millions of pounds (that sounds better), can be bad or even close to being uninteresting/illogical etc.etc… except for if it is a Karan Johar or Suraj Barjatya’s movie.

But all that changed with one gr8 movie which was like the last nail in the coffin & a successful effort from the maker’s point of view to Re-define the Bond.

Actually I had liked this Bond in the last movie because he used very less (illogical) gadgets and did everything on his own without much of a support staff and resources. The one who stumbled like a normal human being when he jumped from one roof to another, bled/ fainted / got confused/struggled and possessed a gr8 physique unlike previous Bond’s who fought in a suite without even forming a wrinkle.

The more humanized and error prone Bond Seemed to be logical but all that went down the drain , when we saw this new Bond flick which gave us nothing but disappointment and many unanswered questions like how, even after blocking all the credit and sim cards Bond manages to get all the resources and help whenever he wants ? Why he is never shown using a public phone or petrol pump? Isn’t it funny to find a knife in James Bond’s pocket when you expect Hi-Fi gadgets? How he breaks the handle of the washroom door with a single hand when sometimes I find it difficult to even twist & open the door??? why they dip the agent in oil and how the dead body gets inside the suite? Where are the trails of oil drops (none on the floor) ?How he goes to Russia without necessary documents…? and so on…all of them un-answered.

Generally Bond Movies are famous for the Romantic (Please decode it as per your convenience) scenes but in this, there was none! Except for one bedroom scene which they could show even on POGO ,with (God-knows-who) an agent which I can say is the most irrelevant scene of the movie (I think cost-cutting has badly affected Bond movies as well).

The boring movie became a bliss later on as we entertained ourselves with our own comments much to the dismay of the other people but had to provide some ‘quantum of solace’ to our souls .in the end, I would not say it was bad, but if at all I have to describe it, it was ‘0 0 1/7’.

Mansoorbhaay bole-” %@#&( #@* !, bhalai ka zamanahi nahi raha! “

‘Ae Dil, Hai Mushkil … Jeena Yahan,

Zara hatke,zara bach ke,Ye hai Bombay Meri jaan…’

(Otherwise, even I call it “Mumbai”, it’s better to clarify and stay away from controversies)

Just the second day after I set my foot in my hometown – Mumbai… and had already started experiencing it all over again.

Except for my people, my pals and some beautiful memories (that’s expected when you spend 21 years of life in the same setup), that make you nostalgic (the best part about being nostalgic is, It occurs only when you enter the same system again, otherwise it doesn’t trouble much!), this city has got nothing for a person who loves spending time with himself/herself… it simply doesn’t allow you to do so.

It had been two years that all of us had spent some time together -myself, Sanjog,rajesh,nitin,varun,gajanan,rajendra (L yes… no girls, sadly I didn’t belong to mechanical department also, but as the saying goes… ‘naseeb &@#!^ ,to kya karega Pandu!’)

On the same lines as summer of ’69, I wd say…

Gajanan quit (India ),Varun got married…lol! And most of us got busy with our lives.

Had it not been for my visit… I don’t find any strong reason that all of us got together (last time it was for Varun’s marriage)

So we decided to meet @ siddhivinayak temple. Not sure whether everyone will come, I started right on time to reach Dadar by 4.30.the speciality of Mumbai is, even if you start on or even before time… you will be late to reach your destination.(I guess half the Murphey's laws were framed here-it has got its advantages though, it provides an excuse to public to go home/office/college late…but surprisingly the same crowd with same transportation system @ service, reaches on time to the examination and movie halls) I had started getting the signs of getting late already , as I sat in a share-auto along with a co-passenger ,both of us waiting for the third 1 so that the auto could start. My co-passenger a bearded Muslim guy with a skull cap and an electrician’s bag and a typical attire of a related trade was very restless; maybe he was finding it tough to keep quiet but my acquired sophistication after landing into a job held me from engaging into a leisure chat while we waited… it could even be for my new sunglasses as well..

I was restless for another reason for, I was getting late... Somehow I wanted wash off my impression of a ‘late comer’ so I thought of taking initiative and asked one of the people standing around if anyone could join… but no one showed interest , I guess they were happy waiting for the bus.

” BH#&( #@* !, bhalai ka zamanahi nahi raha! “ said the person sitting next to me… and started cursing hopeless bus service and stupid people. I knew I was due for some entertainment for next 15-20 minutes. Meanwhile another passenger joined us and the ric started moving.

‘Ye log aisehi hain saale,subhe ko rickshaw Milne ko maramari, aur sham ko aadmi milne ko maramari ’.

When I joined as an assistant TV mechanic, ustad (mentor) told me bhalai ke raste se koi tarakki nahi kar sakta,thoda shana hona padta hai” (U have to manipulate things sometimes).

He quoted an incident when he, for the first time went for TV repairing alone, some 10 years back without his master. It was a Marathi (Hindu) family, so he modestly took their permission to keep his footwear considering the possibility of a minor shock. The problem was very minute and could be fixed by replacing a transistor, so he told them the total cost to be 90 Rs. But soon he gathered from their talk (with whatever knowledge of Marathi he possessed) that, they actually doubted that such problem could be fixed so cheaply and they also thought of the possibility of an inferior quality of work.

Meanwhile we crossed another auto in which an old man sat whom mansoor bhai knew already, as he belonged to the same trade… “ek antenna fix karne ka 350 rupaya leta tha, par antenna aisa jagape lagayega ki signal ekdum perfect ’.. What he meant was if you are good at something, don’t do it for cheap.post above incident,manssor bhai followed the same principle and made a decent fortune… worked in middle-east for 5-6 years but didn’t get rewarded much… ‘choos lete hain saale,bhalaika…’ . Now he is into some construction related work.

By this time we had approached the entrance of the ticket counter, we had had a very pleasant conversation so far ( thanks to my listening skills), realizing that I don’t have a pass and will have to unnecessarily spend 10-15 minutes in a boring queue… Mansoor bhai offered me the punching-coupons he always kept as reserve in order to avoid standing in the line, but may be due to my modesty or reluctance to take help… I refused to take them and told that, I will get my tickets.

It wouldn’t have mattered much as the ticket cost a mere 7 Rs. So we bid goodbye to each other, went our ways…he, to the platform and I to the long queue. But I’m sure, while keeping those coupons back in his pocket, he must have definitely said, ” %@#&( #@* !, bhalai ka zamanahi nahi raha! “

Mowrie - the sailor man!

It was Friday the 24^th of October 2008 and time around 6.50 a.m. when the whistle blew off and our Mumbai bound train from Chennai slowly started creeping.

This was the first time I had a known company during journey.Vivek, my roommate was going home after a year (I hope his parents recognized him).since we both booked separately, we got seats in different coaches and after checking his seat and most importantly co-passengers, I moved to my coach hoping to see a better crowd ;-).as always I am lucky to get the upper berth but to my surprise rather agony, there was someone already sleeping!! From his overall appearance & color he appeared to be Nepalese & related to some industry where there was lot of physical work required. Slightly offended by this arrogance and inconsiderateness I nudged him to wake him up and vacate my place so that I could keep my bag.

1^st shock: In response... He just looked down at me and said in English “I will vacate as soon as the TTE comes” (This guy seemed to be experienced in such matters) and left me silent & with many questions like, is this really my seat? Do I lack command presence? Or was my demand to ask for my seat, unfair? . Then I started analyzing him… average or slightly shorter height, very athletic body, a brown dusty T, a brown cargo and a very odd red cap and red bag. I was not going to lose anything in letting him sleep so I decided to wait till the TTE comes. Meanwhile Vivek came to my coach disappointed with the pack in his compartment and most importantly assured about his luggage. Both of us had breakfast(special 'Rubber-idlis' served by IRCTC pantry) and got into chat with other passengers.

After an hour and a half the TTE came and started inspecting. By this time this guy had come down and voluntarily put my bag on the upper birth and sat in the corner of the horizontal seat opposite & was continuously making some notes on colorful stick-on papers, very cool & calm awaiting his turn for ticket checking. By this time I was sure that he was some ‘jholjhal party’ (fraud - Mumbai slang), but to my surprise he paid the difference without arguing anything though TC did not assure him any seat. At that moment I thought this guy is not what he looks like, so I thought of knowing him more.

After basic introduction, we learned that he was from shillong and was a sailor!!!

‘Are vo saala paisa le liya aur bolta hai jaga nahi milega’ I always say there is a very thin line between honesty & shamelessness, we didn’t bother coz we had our seats reserved but one thing was sure we had an interesting company.

He started speaking and whatever followed was a knowledge enhancement session for all of us coz everything he spoke was new for us.

He basically belonged to Meghalaya…a place in clouds as they believe and rightly so as we could infer from mowrie’s description.

He belonged to a tribe called ‘Khasi’ who’s people are called ‘Khasi’ who speak ‘Khasi’ and who’s religion is also ‘Khasi’ and gods are the natural elements who’s divinity and miracles they can actually see. but his forefathers adopted the teachings of lord Jesus through missionaries who run schools and other institutions all over their state.. rather all over India. So the community is divided in Christians and ‘Khasi’s’ nobody knows Hindi but every child sings carols, along with archery and & other basic training of tribes these kids learn guitar as well, no wonder why it has become the rock capital of India. The only thing they don’t have is industry and obviously… employment opportunities.

But everybody seems to be prosperous… how & why even he didn’t know the answers ‘mujhe bhi nahi pata hum log ke paas paisa kaha se aata hai’ . Folks there have small businesses like garage or fishing and some others have farms.

But the most interesting fact about their society was I feel is the best example of our country’s punch line ‘unity in diversity’. Their society is completely opposite to the rest of India. It’s totally women oriented… there a Girl marries a Guy and not the other way like us… she inherits all the family fortune and the best part is the groom has to shift to the bride’s house after marriage, adopt her name & so on… the statement, ‘hajaar aadmi protest karega to bhi kuch nahi hoga, par ek aurat bolega curfew lag jayega’ said it all!

They even have a small ‘Khasi ’ kingdom where they have queen and princess and also have a royal army apart from the state government.

The society is very open… I don’t know really what attracts people, religion, teachings or the life style…but that’s just a vague thought not the scope of this blog. The Khasi’s have a very interesting ritual, only for young people who are pure... in other words...Not yet resorted to the raging emotions of young age. The belief is, if anyone participates who’s not virgin, loses life. He quoted a few examples as well...to prove the legend. I could see some hesitation to both believe as well as protest the fable owing to his link to the modern world.

Then he began talking about the life on ship… believe me... the word ‘life’ did not sound very lively from his description… after spending three years of life as a sailor and majority of the time away from land ,he seemed to be sick of the lifestyle..But it was paying him better than many of his age in ¼th of the lifespan he had seen almost whole of the world…& tasted different waters as well ;-) but few things can be excused considering the harsh life on the ship. He had all the luxuries on the ship a well furnished cabin, chef to cater to their moods...You name it & they have it. But somewhere he seemed to be tired of all that...Sort of been there, done that but with a humble attitude.

It was afternoon by this time… and it seemed like I was watching a movie because what we see in movies is something which we can’t realize rather experience in real life… though an Indian and of the same age group he had a lived a different life altogether, full of adventures and surprises he wanted to be a sailor and he lived his dream while we, in spite of having all the guidance & infrastructure are busy convincing ourselves what we are living was what we wanted. Unsure about our aspirations… many times I feel too much of exposure & information results in more of confusion than clarity of thought. After finishing our lunch… we moved on to the technical side of sailing… this guy had immense knowledge about almost all the aspects of ship…because of lunch or excess of knowledge content, I don’t know but I was saturated and fell asleep... for your kind information, I can sleep anywhere, anytime except for when a normal human being is supposed to..Of whatever he spoke, every word was an information for us coz, he belonged to a totally different world.

Now the unanswered question...why was he in Chennai train and why was he going to Mumbai?

Another piece of info for me… all those students here in Chennai we called ‘kancha-kanchi’ were from Meghalaya & Bhutan... Many of them were his friends, a few of them were siblings and one of them was his sweet girlfriend who waited for years to express her love and for months to hear his voice when he was on ship. His next trip was about to start from Mumbai harbor. This was going to be his 3^rd trip, this time for a lesser duration of 9 months and supposedly the last one may be coz he had started feeling an urge to settle down, now since he had found his love and having lived his dream of becoming a sailor. He might study or join his uncle’s garage or whatever… when he comes back. But one thing was for sure... he was going to be happier. What an irony the train which carried most of to us near to our families, to our people, the same train carried him to a place from where he was going far from his dear ones… he was not going to see them or speak to them for months to come and we cribbed about staying away from home and visiting once in few months.

This is life; your destination can be the starting point for someone. Your routine life can be privilege for someone… to me he was a great man, not that I was not happy about my achievements but on a bigger picture they were just a bunch of certificates and mark sheets. But the best we can do is to take life as it comes and try to realize our dreams… and most importantly… ‘Our Selves’!