It?s a beautiful day today at Hyderabad? the clouds, the breeze.. sort of hinting at an impending monsoon. The weather makes me so reminiscent of Kumaun.

I did my engineering from a college situated in a Himalayan Valley in Uttaranchal.

Heard of names like Nainital, Almora, Ranikhet? ? well Dwarahat lies in District Almora?. and to describe its location? the hill station of Ranikhet adorns the top of the mountains.. Dwarahat lies in the valley beneath.

I arrived at the engineering college ( A Government College? then a part of Uttar Pradesh), a bit sad at taking admission in one of the lesser known institutes of the state, quite scared of being ragged to death by my seniors and somewhat sentimental at the thought of being away from home for the first time in my life.

The first glimpse of the place was heartening enough?. A sprawling campus, so green that it seemed unreal. Pine trees, a winding road, terraced fields, a small temple, the ubiquitous Kumauni women, the Silver glinting as they worked the fields? and to top it all, a river ran through it. Well not exactly a river, but a small stream.

The next few months were filled with?me being ragged, us freshers sitting together in rooms waiting for the seniors to some on their midnight calls, mass exodus for our homes and eventually the Freshers Night. Five months into the college, finally the ragging came to an end.

The most enduring memory about my college for me was that no two sunsets were ever alike? something was always different? the colors, the sky ? something changed every time.

Anyway, I think I am rambling again?

This post is really meant to be , about the Rains in the hills? and trust me.. it rained a lot over there. There was no specific season for a rain drenched afternoon in Dwarahat? a perfectly sunny day could have turned into a wet and bitterly cold afternoon before you knew it.

It would rain in torrents, but the water would always drain away down the valley, making our small stream look almost, like a river for some time.

The surrounding mountains touched higher ground than the clouds themselves?. Sometimes you could see the cloud bank forming against a hill side.

We used to walk in the rains .. literally. Not caring about how cold it was, and that we really did not have another pair of jeans for the classes tomorrow. We walked along the college roads? and being a small guy, I had more than my share of being dunked in ditches full of rain water.

Almost every walk concluded at Negi Ji?s dhaba at the college gate? Ginger Tea, Hot Chicken on fluffy rice, or the local speciality ?Bhutua? ( Chicken mince spiced like there is no tomorrow !!)? and there we sat? for hours on end. Sometimes the silences interspersed with a Jalebi or two.. Sometimes embroiled in a never ending game of carom?

The days it rained, the nights were so cold that a window left open was perceived as the most heinous crime that could have been committed by a room mate. Room heaters, the most essential article in our possession, doubled as the sole source of heat, and also, the only way we had hot milk, or steaming Maggi at night. Nestled in blankets, attempts to study had always been futile, our eyes drooping before we knew.

As I sit today, I my own fabric covered cubicle, I wonder if its raining today in Dwarahat.

Yes, today morning?. The Hyderabadi weather took me back to that valley in the Kumaun hills.

Comments from the past:

Jaan
15 Apr 2005, 4:00am

How wonderful to discover your blog ~ I found myself going back and reading each and everyone of your earlier posts! WOW. Thanks for making my day 😀 Btw, my cousin married a Tamil Iyengar Brahmin guy and they are doing fine. Hope you like sambar 🙂

Ashish
15 Apr 2005, 8:48am

Hey Thanks… and as far as Sambar is concerned, I believe its an acquired taste… though i have not really been able to appreciate it even after being in Southern India for almost a year now !!!

Radhika
16 Apr 2005, 9:55pm

I love the way you write…really.I am right there with you, going thru ur experiences, when i read your piece. And am not saying this because i love you. Is it possible to be jealous & proud at the same time…? 🙂

Ashish
17 Apr 2005, 4:32pm

THAT fellow bloggers, was Radhika making her debut on my blog… anyway, she is here to stay… in more ways than one.

Jaan
18 Apr 2005, 10:17pm

How cuuuuuuute! You both are just awwwwwwwwww! Welcome to FHBlogs.

Slats of sunlight, swaying as the palm fronds they filtered through, creating a dream-like quality in a very real world. Juhu was crowded even at seven in the morning?. with the all the regular suspects occupying their regular places??.

The mandatory tourist family frolicking in the toxic sea waters, while the regular Mumbaikars gazed sagely from their perches well away from the waves, the beggars harassing the Firang couple with expensive cameras? the enterprising chai-wallas with their makeshift kiosks, the health-freaks furiously pacing the length of the beach, having just alighted from their chauffeur driven cars, impatient to finish of their mandatory stretch and zoom off again in the Mumbai traffic?.

We took off our shoes and walked in the sand? and joined the legions of a million others who believe they invented companionship. The waves lapped at our feet, and for some moments we refuse to imagine that they carried anything other than sea-water!!

It felt good though, the breeze from the Arabian Sea offsets the damp humidity Mumbai builds around you. The wet sand feels cool as you trudge your way through?. And a cup of milky sweet tea once you get tired of walking, heavenly.

Early in the morning, Mumbai, with all its maze of local trains and swarms of people? seems to be so far removed from that glistening beach. We left a bit early, before the Juhu Beach market could rouse itself from its slumber and the cries of the Pav-bhaji vendors shattered the morning peace?.. Carrying with us, the memory of a solitary moment stolen from a crowded metropolis…

We studied in an old old school in Lucknow, so old that the scratches on the wooden desktops were probably made by our grandfathers in knickerbockers. We had been a group of around 90 boys? divided neatly into three sections ( A, B & C ) and five houses ( No I will not name them)? when were ushered amidst tears and farewells to our first day at school.

Over the years to come, several left, many more joined us? but there was our group of around 30 odd boys.. who never really left Colvin ( That?s the name of the school). And, we 30 really took pride in being the ?Originals?.. so much so that anyone who had ever seen the insides of any other school? was deemed a little less ?Colvinian?.. Guess we must have been one the stupidest bunch of snobs around.

Anyway, so most of us classmates, not all of us friends obviously managed to finish off our twelve years of schooling and pushed off to wherever our destinies took us.

Its been 8 years since I passed out. I had gone home for Holi this month, after years I was there in the same colony where I grew up. Little did I know, that I was not the only one.

Twenty three, yes, that was the number of my class mates who met up at Lucknow this Holi. It was unbelievable, improbable, unplanned and simply wonderful.

For a day we were all back in school, arguing over long lost cricket matches and long forgotten girlfriends. A guy who I shared my lunchbox with now runs a huge textile business, a couple of them were completing their MDs, most like me, were already entrenched in the 24×7 schedule. A guy who is now a Captain in the army, turned out to be posted in Hyderabad for more than a year?. We had never been really thick in school, but have met almost every evening since we have returned from Lucknow.

It is almost magical, the way some feelings remain the same. It?s a bit of a shock when you realize that the guy you threw spitballs at is now a grown up man? but then?. So am I ?.

Comments from the past:
chotacyrus
5 Apr 2005, 10:00pm

Just as I was thinking’Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be’,I stumble upon your post and trust me,it really made me nostalgic.:D good post m8.

I mean what more can I guy want. I wanted to be an engineer and I became one. I wanted to study business and went to one of the finer colleges in the country. Fell madly in love with a batchmate and asked her to marry me…… and she agreed. Guess thats when things became decidedly hot for me. Not that I mind being married in the next three months ( she also read this blog you see)… but its the thought of it all happening a bit too soon. Last year, in March… I had been happily dozing in classes.. day dreaming. The longest term my plans had ever spanned never went beyond the current evening out in Pune !

A lot has changed since…. well a bit of background. I am a northindian she is not. She is a brahmin I am not. I am a non vegetarian she is not. She is lovely and I am scared.

Well… for a long time I pestered her to broach the subject with her family. How pompous I had been…. full of bravado. A week before my birthday… she actually told her dad. So.. I spent my birthday weekend sitting in a Volvo… dozing all the way to Mumbai, and eventually found myself facing my own FIL ( thats father-in-law)

And since then… life has not been the same again. Its bad to have in-laws at 25… even potential ones. More so… if your marriage has become a definite date rather than a remote distant probability.

Now I seem to hold back on that third Large one at the pub…. sort of brings a contemplative mood in cigarette smoke. I always planned to buy a car before I married… wanted one of those ‘Lamba’ wala models… now that the decision is 90 days away.. guess will setlle for an Alto. My beer belly is troubling me now.. I have been told that you wear only a Dhoti when they marry you off the Tamil way…. and there I will be… my private rotundity exposed to the world.

Suddenly, my carefree spending is not so carefree anymore.. the prospect of flying bothways for my honeymoon seems quite daunting…. honestly… I hate the fact that my singlehood so treasured is about to end… and trust me so does my fiancee.

Well marrying your best friend can be a fine motivation indeed… but here is a passing toast to all that had been.. but would never be again… Cheers !!

Comments from the past:
Portuguese Man-Of-War
17 Mar 2005, 6:00pm

Nice blog. Wonder how I missed it.

Ashish
17 Mar 2005, 7:15pm

Thanks a lot man !

arun chandra
17 Mar 2005, 9:36pm

afeter eating a substandard, brahminical keema kaleji, i was thinking, about morning …and suddenly i read your article….this is more than the sweet dish (which the host, so cunningly did not serve)…pyaar to you chottu

Jaszalcatraz
19 Mar 2005, 11:51am

Congrats. Someday (not in the near future) I want to be doing what you are.

Ashish
23 Mar 2005, 10:55am

Well Jaszalcatraz , all the best for the same.. May the Force be with you.. till then Cheers !

There is that pain again… creeping stealthily from somwhere around the middle of my spine… converging to form a solid column forcing its way up the base of my neck, digging its pointers through my brain….

Pretty graphic huh ! Some would say Gross ! As usual…

A headache. Painfully similar over the years…. comes back to haunt me on never ending journeys, sleepless nights and hungry afternoons. Makes me realise how I miss having those special people around.

Through my graduation as well as my PG, I always found myself surrounded by people willing to ,literally, lend a helping hand; give my head that lingering, relaxing massage.

There had been the tall strapping Joshi, a junior of mine at the Engineering College. His technique was more to do with brute strength than anything else. For him…. if it did not make enough noise.. it wasn’t a good champi. It had been Joshi who introduced me to the magnificent ‘Navratan Tel’…. ‘thanda thanda cool cool ‘ aaah….

Time passed.. as it generally does and I found myself in an institute with a higher than normal share of helpful ladies.
Luckily, I too found some…. with quite strong hands I might add.

First there had been Pallo, the pet of our entire group of friends. Always game for a snack in the evening and shopping on afternoons hot enough to keep even scandals inside. Among other things… she has/ had this beautful trait….. All you had to do was to position your head somewhere close to her hands…. (eg, sit a bit lower than her on the staircase… sit on the ground if she is on a chair… do a head-down if she is on the same bench as you are )…. and sooner than later… you will find her unconsciously rubbing your head….. Lovely as it can be….. just had to remember not let her know that you are enjoying it too much… she could have stopped… sometimes did.

Shruti… large, sweet and friendly Shruti… they do not make girls like her anymore. Strength was visible at the first glance… physically capable and mentally devastating. Sometimes she used to decend from her academic perch to mingle with mortals like us. Shruti, was ‘THE’ authority on ‘ How to Give a Head Masage’….. strong fingures with a gentle touch. … forming patterns and trails on your forehead and scalp . Your hair being pulled, gently being nudged at the roots. The trace of your spine being tracked down your neck.. to diverge on your shoulder blades for a parting rub. Shruti… you were the best !

Well and somewhere around had been the girl am getting married to in June… she was never too keen on matrial stuff like a head massage… but did it anyway… still does in fact.

Now … alone at Hyderabad.. guess its time to head towards the nearest men’s salon ~

An amazing day today… no emergencies to talk about. things happening in the manner planned, people looking generally relaxed. Everything where it should properly be… my boss in his cubicle, my PM on leave, the cash in the bank, and the beer in the fridge. What more can a man ask for…

There is something absolutely divine about a lethargic day at office.. especially if yesterday had been the day when God looked at you in the morning and smirked to himself… “Lets play around a bit with the laddie shall we”

So Yesterday… I got up late (Vestige of Sunday Night at Escape).. missed the office bus and coughed up a substantial amount to the autowalla who conveniently did not have any change… Was late for a meeting, and ended up messing up a client invoice. Had three deliverables with due dates mentions as “ASAP” (How I hate that acronym)…. and to top it all, the coffee vending machine decided to do a ‘Titanic’….

By evening I had a headache… but had to take a session on something as useless as ‘Software Quality Assurance’ for my team…. they slept in the chairs while i yakked away… absolute torture for both the sides i guess..

Understandably… when I returned to my lonely abode I was pretty irritable… and then… my fiancee called. To say the least, I was not at my civil best with her… and so ended up spending the next one hour trying to somehow apologise.

Had it not been for my Rum and Apple Juice.. I would have been dead today…

But today…. ah today is one of those perfect days when you feel like smiling at everyone… even at the chowkidar of your society who promptly locks the gate every night at Eleven… and raises a huge hullabaloo when you come back from some midnight excursion… Sigh… Its a wonderful world…

A long long time back… when I had been in school… there had been this band called ‘Silk Route’. And their first album…’Boondein’ was pure magic. Finally, we thought … we have an Indian band worth the name. Me and my friends sang its songs on stage…. and togther dreamt of the cold waters of the mountain rivers kissing the verdant banks. Another album later… Silk Route seemed to have disappeared. I still see them… sometimes… on some obscure award ceremony or the other. They had been good. Now we have Rabbi…’Bulla ki jana’. Hope this one stays…

It is fascinating the way music can bring back memories… ‘Pehla Nasha’ will always remain the first song I sang to someone…. or that lullaby from ‘Masoom’ will forever be sung by my mother. ‘Summer of 69’ shall always be the song which would ignite every dying party at Symbi…

Govinda’s ‘meri pant bhi…’ was the one i danced to when they ragged me in college.. .. and ‘Sunaina’ by Yeshudas, was the song the busdriver played again and again on that long ago trip to Nainital…

Somethings never change, whatever be the city or however old you might become…. Thank God !

Over the ages, if you mull through the annuls of human history; human civilisation has enforced some rights of iniitiation for a boy\ girl entering adulthood. The prehistoric ages had the sons being instructed by ‘Gurus’ in the deepest forests before they returned to a life of luxury in the cities. The Medieval ages had the young men shedding blood in the battle fields of conquests and crusades. Now, they hunt for a house.

A man is not a man enough till he masters the skills needed for an elaborate, long drawn out and eventually fruitful house hunt. It needs the patience of a seaman and the guile of a raconteur.

I, being a veteran of several such expeditions, can well provide a list of my own Do’s and Don’ts when you want a house on rent:

1) Have a bath, shave and put on your most modest and decent attire. No one wants a flashy, illkempt, bade baap ka bigda beta as a tenant… more so if the land lord has some girls around the house.

2) Be civil, polite and learn how to smile while the potential house owner launches off on a never ending tirade against the last occupant of the house who never paid the rent on time. In fact, if you are a group of guys planning to stay togther, let the most seedha saadha amongst you do the talking.

3) Be ready for the most unexpected and personal of questions… “Are you a vegetarian?”, “Why do you want to stay alone?”, “What is your salary?”, “What is your caste?”, “Are you a devout Hindu?”, “Do you drink?”, “When will you get married?”, “How many guests do you expect for a visit?”,”Do you think Netaji died in that plane crash in Japan?”…… phew !!

4) Carry identification of some sort… cards , licenses whatever.

5) Appear to be a family sort of a man… it really really helps. Drop glowing references to your parents and your concern for them whenever and wherever you can…”I hope you have a backup generator for the elevator… My father is an arthritic you see……..” “Is there and satsang society in this building? My mother is a very devout person”…

6) Wear confortable shoes… you will need to do a lot of walking.

7) Things to watch out for: leaky bathrooms, telltale marks on the door left after the last time a desperate tenant clung to the door before being hauled out of the house… and the like.

Anyway, the kind of house you get depends a lot on your luck. All the above becomes null and void the moment you land a decent place. Pay your deposit and be happy. But remember, that luck always favors the brave….