The Re-U

U and U!

Re-U, rather.

September 2.

Not exactly a meet-up to which I looked forward.

Cut to 24 August.
Asmita and PM

"Yaar R ko dhundna hai.. Ab bata kaise?"

"Reunion karte hain apni class X ka. Isi bahane uska contact mil jayega."

"Sahi boss! Farewell ki poem nikal.. Us may sabke naam hain.. Chal dekh aur bata ki kis-kis ko contact karna hai."

"Yaar X ko nahi.. bahut bada chep tha. Y! Nahi yaar ye saala ladki soongh ke nikalta hai.. Z ko goli maar.. Aise duffero ko nahi bulana.."

26 August.
Vibhuti and PM

"O PM! Tu itne din baad! Chal re-U karte hain!"

"Bhenchod! Usi ke liye to baat karne aayi hu!"

"Karte hain yaar.. Bahut mazze ayenge yaar.. Sabko bulate hain yaar.. Vishal se milne ka mera bada dil hai yaar!"

"Great! R ka kucch ata-pata hai?"

"Nahi yaar.. Vishal Orkut pe hai na? Main V se kehti hu usse find karne ke liye."

"Yaar R ka bata.. Rohit wagerah ko bhi nahi pata hoga na?"

"Kal DAV chalte hain.. Waha se find out karte hain."

27 August

Said and done!

30 August
Ashish and PM

"Bhhai zara logo ko contact karke is Sunday ka bata de.."

"Kaha karna hai? McDonald's wagerah may koi nahi aane wala! Kisi disc wagerah may rakho. Main 1000 rupaye per head tak kara dunga."

"Baawda hai ke launde? 1000 rupaye kaun dega ham may se? McD ka bol!"

"Main bata raha hu tujhe zyada log nahi aayenge McD ke naam pe."

1 September

The whole re-U thing was out of my mind now. My ulterior motive behind initiating the whole process had been fulfilled. And by the kind of response we received from people, it was clear that we could expect only the losers who could anyway be caught wandering in my colony streets after 7 PM any day.

2 September 12:10 PM Ashish and PM

"Phone kyu nahi uthati tu?"

"Abhi uthi hu yaar."

"Abbey drame nahi.. McD pahuch aadhe ghante may."

"Kaun kaun aa raha hai?"

"Rohit Jain, Akshay, Mohit, Mittal, Ajay, Rohit Anand, etc etc etc"

"Chal aati hu.. Vibhuti ko le ke aaungi, thoda late ho jayega."


Vibhuti and Vidhi picked from respective places. Divya off to Haridwar.

McDonald's 1:30 PM
We were wary. After all, we were about to reunite with people who could easily be dubbed the loafers. Ten minutes down the line and our apprehensions were busted. They were not as bad as we had feared. In fact, they were good.

Now, over to the pictures.

Vidhi. She still looks as good or as bad as she did 5 years back! The next day was her birthday and she couldn't be more occupied with her thoughts. Her discomfort amidst the group [read Mohit with whom she has a pyar-muhabbat ka jhol for quite sometime now] in the absence of her alleged boyfriend Rohit Anand was too evident to hide.


Vibhuti. The Real Slim Shady. One woman always fussed up about her apparently straight hair [or the lack of it], make-up and clothes. She left no chance to declare how serious she was about Vishal at one time, how casually she wears such dresses, how glad she was to meet all the people, how strong she's going with her current flame, where we should hold the next re-U, what Asmita missed by didn't coming and so on.

PS: I'm not going to give any of her contacts to you guys!

Jitender and Vishal. Well people have been mistaking Jitender for some Uncle for quite sometime now. He's grown into a well-informed and intelligent man now. He maintains a journal where he has recorded the silliest of things we people used to do in class X. So cruel!

Vishal. Mera bachpan ka dushman! We had a very stiff competition between us for the first slot in the class. We were quite cordial now although his uneasiness because of Vibhuti's over-friendliness was more than visible on his face.

Rohit Jain. The heir to the Jain Dairy. Quite a regular on roads nowadays. One of the people who allegedly blew up 1800 bucks on booze after this meet. Tried his best to entertain people with his still-so-dumb jokes and one-liners.

PS: Some 8 years back he proclaimed to be a SRK lookalike.




Ashish Gupta. The karta-dharta behind this get-together which might not be possible without his excellent contacts. His jokes could be categorised with Rohit spare a few laughs they managed to elicit. Quite the same mongrel he was when in X. Looks like a boar, speaks like hogs.



Raman. Was never really friendly with him all the time we were in school. Things change in time. I won't say we became great friends or even friends, but we did share relaxed words.





Charu nee Dinesh aka Shah ji. Hamari class ke namoone. Renowned for his lanky frame and slippery tongue. Has evolved over the years but not out of the real Charu-type he is.




Naveen. Nikka Tayal. Heir to the Rajdhani Stationers [his cousin and our classmate Praveen is heir to the Rajdhani Undergarments.] Didn't open up much.




Ankit Mittal. The apparent stud. Still the playboy we had 5 years ago. One of the "factors" that made Vibhuti feel "comfortable".





Ajay Shankar. Mr. Quiet. Hardly interacted with anyone. Wonder if he was providing Vidhi company in missing his good ol' friend Rohit Anand.





Rishabh and Mohit. Rishabh was one person I was always in touch with although not out of choice [he's my sister's "best friend's" brother]. Mohit the bandi boy was evidently uncomfortable in Vidhi's presence. These few guys had lobbied at the other end of the table so we really didn't get to speak to each other much.



Vibhuti appears so keen! I leave this for her to interpret according to her whims and fancies, ahem!






Numbers and e-mails circulated. Promises to stay in touch. Some laughs over the game of Truth And Dare. Old flames rekindled [well, at least one.]. Large cokes. Was it good? Can't say no.

The Call

"Hiii Vibhuti, kaisi hai tu yaar?!"

"Hi, R. Main badiya. Tu bata?"

"Bas badiya. Aur bata?"

"Err R. Main Prateeksha bol rahi hu."

"Prateeksha bol rahi hai. Prateeksha bol rahi hai??"

"Haan! To kya main to hamesha se hi bolti thi."

"Uhh, main tujhse call expect nahi kar raha tha. Waise mujhe to yaad bhi nahi aayi thi Vibhuti!"

"Aur main?"

"Haaaan, tu to yaad hai yaar."

"Accha ji, kyun?"

"Kucch exceptional students to yaad hi rehte hain!"

BHENCHOD!~!

There wasn't an another occasion for me to accomplish this task. It would have kept coming back to haunt me. I tightened my shoes, went to DAV and had my hand on his Burari number, finally.

"Main R se baat kar sakti hu? Actually main uski Dayanand ki classmate Vibhuti hu. Ham ek reunion plan kar rahe hain."

"R to 2 saal se Patna may reh rahe hain!"

CRASH!~!

Cut to the start. The New Delhi-Patna conference.

WELL, YEAH!~!

What do I want now? After calling up and discovering that now he's become a bigger and better dork. Am I glad that he's not in Delhi? Could I have felt really sorry for not having him around had he turned into a suave young gentleman? Is there still something that I wish to find out?

NOVEMBER'S COMING!~!

The Zahir

Stop haunting me.

It started as a fleeting thought. It turned into an obsession.

It's all getting hazy before the mist in my eyes. What do I see? Why isn't it you whom I see?

It's over me now. It's what I want to get now. It's what that will put me to rest, now.

You're a fucking fungus.

It's grown on me. Nourishing on my peace. Thriving on my security. Eating me from within. Wasting me. Leaving me with nothing but itself.

It cannot be seen, yet is everywhere around.

What if I never find you? Where will this circle terminate? Have you blessed me to decay in your wish?

End my pain. Come to me.

Dilemma of an MBA aspirant

The sight of young men and women clad in black and white every morning I take a tempo to my college sends shivers down my spine. No, they are not criminals let loose. They are students pursuing MBA at NIEC. Since I'm a participant of this milling race, I can't count heads but the fact that an MBA is what every second graduate aspires to do cannot be discounted.

I shudder at the thought of being in these kids' shoes [or pre-Eastman wardrobe] someday. Allright, I'm pursuing B. Tech here. But I wonder, will mediocrity take over aspiration in the course of four years? Will I also be left amongst "I aim at crack CAT" junta? Does being at a low-rung college guarantee that I've nothing left to look forward?

Somewhere within myself, I know I'll discover the answers as time will unwrap itself. In my favour? Let's see!

Today..?

It is a good day today. Are you feeling happy, R?

Pigeons are flying away from a terrace that I see from this window. Will you wave at me standing there?

Sun has shied behind the clouds. It's a soothing breeze that's coming to us. Are you somewhere around?

It's raining now. Do you remember how you were scolded by Rashmi Mam when you exclaimed at the sudden drizzle?

I don't get a word out of the sludge removal this woman is reading out. I can hear Bryan Adams singing "Here I Am." Will you sing me a song?

I'm wearing a suit after ages today. The salwar is too long for me to walk properly. Will you compliment me?

I cannot hold myself surther in this room. I wish to prance on the terrace, arms outstretched, singing in overwhelmed spells of happiness gone out of control. Will you join me?

Come today, R..

Toh Phir Aao..

Why are you coming back to me now?

After so many falls, so many Diwalis, Adnan Sami's music, countless trips to Burari, scores of good faces and nice voices, years after the farewell, eons after I last saw you.

Why now?

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It refused to go off my mind. His thought. The fantasy to meet him again. Free my soul, o Demon! You won't let me live in my mind.

The breeze was piercing through me.

I was being pushed by a brute force. Back into the past. Nothing to which I could cling to save myself. My vision went out of focus.

Haze and mist. Everywhere around me.

It could certainly not be August, 2007.

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Giggles and groans. Kids copying C & D solutions from Hawa's notebook. Vidhi sitting amidst a circle playing truth-and-dare. Mahesh desperately attempting to "patao" the chic next class. Vishal and Vibhuti fooling around. Prateeksha and Nancy whispering into each other's ears. Eyes searching someone.

The wait for him to enter the class. The prayer to catch him on the way the day I ran late for the class. The itch to know what his name meant. The wish to have him around in casuals on the Teacher's Day and farewell. Watching him giggle. The twinkle in his brown eyes. The pit on the cheek. That peculiar way to walk dragging shoes on the floor with stiff shoulders. An out-and-out dumb smile over the most stupid/embarrassing jokes. A sudden interest in accompanying my Dad to his Burari office quite regularly. Science board exam when he came on a bike.

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Take this away from me.

Or come back.

I must surpass this juncture. To reach out. To you.

Where R you?

Tamtamatam tamtam tara!

Here's to Niharika Tamta!

A chunk of those who're reading this at the moment already know about this Superwoman. And those who don't and are interested, read on my dears and discover for yourself. Those uninterested, in Niharika's style, scoot off!

July 11, 2007.
Model Town-III bus stop
Around 11 AM

I was almost in a hustle to catch a bus to reach the Vishwavidyalaya station. My dodo Priyanka would be waiting for me at CP so I had to hurry up as much as possible to reach DU and catch a metro. The scene at the bus stop was queer. An unusually large crowd was waiting for buses. "Shayad is time bheed hoti hogi, main to bahut time se nikli nahi is time bahar." There were people attempting to get into occupied three-wheelers, others giving a thumb to passers-by on vehicles for lift and scores of others dangling off the scant buses that whizzed by.

BLUE LINE STRIKE!

The worst thing to happen in Delhi. The DTC fleet is neither sufficient nor efficient enough to cope up with Delhi's demand. And whatever the media say about the "killer line", they cannot deny the fact that DTC kill just as much, if not lesser, number of poeple under their wheels.

Cut the crap!

So here I was stranded with apparently no mode of transport to reach my destination 4 kms. away from where I was positioned. Autos demanded astronomical fares, cycle rickshaws outright refused to go this far and buses were sighted as often as Haley's comet. Frustrated, I decided to walk my way.

Walk my way??

It could be a tad tiring as well as boring to go all the way on myself [though I have a music phone to accompany me]. Why not take someone along!

So here was this woman in white standing pretty aloof from the rest of the crowd. Cropped hair, fair skinned and well-built. "Let me hit on her."

"What are you waiting for? A bus?"
"Uh, nooo. An auto."
"Take my word. Nothing's gonna come. There's a bus strike and autos are out of supply."
"Then what are you gonna do?"
"Walk my way."
"Allright, I'll come by."

And then the 3 kilometre walk [we took a cycle rickshaw at Hakikat Nagar to DU station]. She turned out to be a NIFT student. We talked of a deal of things under the sun [I had the umbrella open, though!] ranging from her Hampi documentary to my engineering through BMMMC, Delhi crime and my documentary. She appeared to be a woman who knew at least a thing or two about almost everything, very zealous about her trade, highly opinionated and an utterly chilled-out person with the most "amazing vocabulary" [pun strictly intended] I'd come across so far.

Cut the crap!

The whole narration was just for the record. And the event was just the beginning of many more good times to come [can't say about you Tamta but I relished EACH bloody moment with you THOROUGHLY]. Since then, we've met some 3-4 times and with each meet, I just can't help growing fond of this woman.

She will now doubt if I'm straight.

Kick me later.

Niharika. Gorgeous. Funny cropped-chopped hair. Beautiful kohl-lined grand eyes. Infectious smile with buck teeth. The perfect advisor. The perfect counsellor. Magical capacity to make you distinguish amongst shades of shit [read make you feel better even though you're in a whirlpool]. Impeccable sense of style. Better when it come to giving tips and suggestions. Eveready to go out and kill time. Laughs in roars. Has to be kept away from food. Could convert to Buddhism anytime in future. Would love to be size 2. Ultimate commentator. "Bwahahahaha saali fraud!". Absof*ckinglutely adorable.

More cheese, Tamta?

Love you woman!

PS: Sorry for adulterating with your style but you see, our pseudo-refined society wouldn't really wish to read this our way. And it's for them, you jerk!