Chapter 2: My First Memories…….

Disclaimer:

Given the fact that you have chosen to pick this book from the Novel section of some book stall makes you all the more entitled to the rubbish in the rest of the book. Any consequences, whatsoever and howsoever related to this book is definitely purely coincidental and has got nothing to do with me or the book directly or indirectly. I seriously pity you………… Hope you live to read the last page of this book and many others.

Hello everyone, I am Srinivas Iyengar. I am a Hindu Brahmin coming from a moderately orthodox family. I can go on about myself for pages together, but right now, I‘ll restrict that to a few lines for the simple reason that I have rest of the book for that boring stuff. To characterize myself, I would say I belong to a herbivorous, god-fearing (more so when its human beings), middle class family. Of late, though the critics are seriously pondering over the issue that ‘is it really ethical to address Brahmins as herbivorous any longer?’ I can stand out as an exception. To the older generation of disappointed Brahmins, I would say “Relax grand and great grand dads. Change is the law of the universe. Evolution is the way ahead. Who knows we might have someone who is courageous, fearless finally in the Brahmin community too…………”  

When I sit back today and think about everything in the past, I seriously don’t remember much. But, there are a few patches all over the place, which have been etched so deep into my memory; it looks fresh even after 20 years of my humanly existence. This particular incident goes back to a time when I was in my 2^nd Std. There were three sections A, B and C and I belonged to the C section. Though there were rumors that the students were put to different sections based on their intellectual capability starting from A with the best to C with the obvious, I will neither accept nor deny it. I loved going to theatres to watch movies and didn’t miss an opportunity when a new movie arrived. My parents took me to almost every movie that came to the near by theatre. I was always mesmerized by the antiques of the hero in the movie and on our way back, I would try out a lot of stuff that he did seamlessly on the screen. A lot of his actions, reactions and many more attributes would be visible in me for the next few days because of my sub conscious fascination for it. There was one particular girl called Shilpa (a lot of S’s?) in the class. I watched a love story probably on the previous day and he was on me the following day. May be Shilpa resembled the actress. May be not; may be I thought so. I wanted to tell the same ‘three word line’ to her just like the way it was told in every other Karan Johar’s movie. But my genetic configuration made me fundamentally fearful for any such daring acts. Seriously, I don’t fear a situation because I want to, but because it is built into my ‘Brahmin DNA’. And so, I picked a book of mine and wrote ‘I love you Shilpa’ on the hard bind and covered the wrapper back.

Weeks passed by, or probably months; I don’t remember. The effect had died down, the act forgotten, and the girl nowhere to be seen. My mother was seriously involved in bringing out lice from my hair while was busy flipping through some colorful book. The wrapper was torn a little here and there. She started scolding me about how I maintain my books. She started peeling the wrappers away from all my books. This actually irritated me and I was asking her to stop doing that. Unmindful of this entirely, she was on with her work. At one point, I angrily asked her to stop. This was exactly at the same time when she picked a new book and that book was ‘the one with golden line’ (Divine intervention is it?). And when she peeled it out, her jaws dropped……………She was lost in the starlit evening sky.That reaction on my mother’s face is still embossed in my mind.
Now, when I reflect on my act, I wonder what it was towards Shilpa.  Pure transitory fascination or sublime intoxication …………? I prefer to go with the former.

Chapter 1

“Sam, past it left”, Ravi was at the top of his voice. Samarth had decided to go for it and took the ball all the way to the goal post. They had a stiff defense, despite which Samarth made it almost there. And just when he was about to seal it, the goalie moved violently in his direction. With the kind of reputation he had, he could have gone for it on his own. But, just before the goalie slid his legs to push the ball away from him, he passed it on to his left. Ravi, who was all waiting, just shoved it in at the right time. The match ended in a draw and the team had a big sigh of relief.

On the sidelines, Shankar got up from the seat and shared wireless high fives (transmitted along the thin air) with the players on the ground. “Srini, they saved our faces… we drew it for the first time with Comp Sci guys……” Oblivious to everything that was happening, I just said,”Shankar, I am planning to write a novel. What do you think?” He sure didn’t see this coming, though quite recently he was irritated with my long silence breaks and total ignorance of the things happening around. “What?!!!” his instantaneous reply. I got up from the seat and started walking. Shankar came towards me and then corrected “Sorry Srini, I was just not really expecting this. Why don’t we talk about it over the dinner?” “Over the dinner, Ruchi Parota Corner, the bill is on me.” I said walking away, since he wanted to spend some time with the team and was not ready to come along.

With half the parota over even before the sabji arrived, Shankar was in no mood to listen. But, the obligation of me paying the bill left him with no choice. “I am planning to write a novel. What do you think?” straight on the point. “Why?”, with his finger then working its magic on the tongue to salivate on the remnants of the stuffed aloo stuck on the edges. Then on seeing my face and sensing the seriousness of the situation, he immediately made eye contact and said, “I mean what is it about? And why do you want to write?” Fundamental, I thought. He sensed my itchiness and then finally modified it to “Ok, chuck that. Just tell me what is it that you are going to write?” “My experiences, may be more precisely my afterthoughts on everything that has happened in my life” I replied quite confidently. “?” was the reaction on his face. His face blurted, ‘what is so b*@%#$ interesting in your life?’ while his mouth cluttered “Ok …. Ok I get it……, Nice… nice…”

      I paid 84 bucks for this ‘nice… nice…’ from him. We left the parota corner at around 12 midnight. “Why?” I was still thinking. The ‘?” look still incomprehensible. I began wondering if his 'nice... nice...' actually referred to my idea or the stuffed aloo parota………

Preface Of My Novel : Well, I Think..........

Until the year 2011, I have always been any other guy who was interested in reading a lot of novels. With the Famous Fives and Secret Sevens in the beginning, Hardy Boys and The Harry Potters at the secondary level and Dan Brown’s at the senior secondary level, I should say I loved every author at that age. I fell in love with RK Narayan’s classical literature in the mean time. They had an additional quality of being an all time, all age readability. The English Teacher and The Guide were two exceptionally good books among others that inspired me. All that I would do was, just sit back and appreciate their work.

          I happened to come across the Chetan Bhagat’s ‘Five Point Someone’ and Tushar Raheja’s ‘Anything for You Ma’am’. And I read it in my prime youth and was just taken aback by the beauty of simple writing yet being extremely interesting. This inspired me to actually think of writing a novel someday, or at least dream of it. I have made my earnest attempt in writing something that would probably connect with a lot of us. By the end of the process of writing such a book, we develop a sense of detachment towards its success. (Or at least that’s what Sharukh Khan says before his movie release….) The reasons for this has got nothing do with spirituality but everything to do with the inability to predict the audience. So, I leave it to you to either keep me in the business or go on with something else in life. My publisher has already given me my first check though…..

Note to all publishers and copyright owners:  I have taken the liberty of using a lot of names and the novels in my introductory page. I really don’t know how many of them are copyright protected or anything close to that. Since I have not much clue on what could be protected and what not, please spare me for this page. I was just trying to be modest. Despite all this, for people who are obsessed with suing me, please file your application in the High court of Karnataka. Genuinely, I can’t travel thousands of miles to be screwed by some lawyer for copyright law enforcement.

IT IS ALL ABOUT PLACEMENTS.........

                                                                        it was all about placements, 
   the aspiring ones standing in front of every building's pavements,

                              sometimes a nuisance to the on-looker passing by,

                       but all that stops when he gets up searching for his tie.....

      
      I don't remember where exactly I found this, but it goes like this “Anyone seen in a bus over the age of 30 has been a failure in life.” Quite rude ? May be... May not be.... I do not intend to comment on that. But definitely has an element of truth in it. Well, when this is the order of the day, one can imagine the fate of thousands of 'just outside the egg' Engineers and not even the hatched ones.... Well, I proudly belong to the 'not yet hatched but will' group of Engineers. (it could be but will /but probably will /maybe, I was just optimistic)

       The placement process in the college began in August 4^th for our department. Well, on that day, I tell you, I had an insight into human mentality. Clad in formals was every Tom, Dick and Harry either to try and impress God (read recruiter) or because it was compulsory to do so. Girls were kind of grounded, though there were a few here and there who believed that “may be, it will make a difference.”

And when I see all this, I ask “what is all placement about?”. “One of the biggest days of my life” (of course not in terms of length) says somebody, “a day when I will know what my real worth is?” says another. Somebody might even suggest “A historic day in college curriculum when all of us get to wear new clothes on the same day, look into the mirror ten times, pray to god, show a smile with a ton of nervousness inside.”

       On this day, I understood something profound and its my take. Men, I mean boys(if you like it that way), despite the maturity that they show in general, tend to become childish by over-believing in their capacities for that one day when it comes down to employment. Certainly, I am not talking about self confidence and you know that. And women (read as girls), who generally show lesser levels of maturity (its their birth right, they probably like it that way) show extraordinary levels of wisdom. I mean, the look on their faces, never suggested a tinge of nervousness. Every glance directed at anybody either intentionally or unintentionally, does not last more than fraction of a second.

      The next moment there is a call from the organizers and we all walk in to the examination hall. Plenty of questions, sometimes complex and most of the times highly silly. One from the corner raises his hand to ask if the name can be filled in capitals, while the other from the centre asks if we can press the next button after finishing a page. Now that I know of them, I have come to understand the fact that on a day which decides rest of our career, our mind cannot just rest in peace. It keeps coming up with some complex nonsense basically because it cannot just digest the event.

      Twenty minutes pass by, and a guy from the right leaves the hall. There are three possibilities. Firstly, the people sitting inside think this guy is damn good and we are stuck up still and simultaneously the guy leaving the premises thinks “gosh!!! why is it that I did not know even a thing....?”. Secondly, people inside start following him, (they were just waiting for somebody to take the initiative) and the remaining wonder whats wrong. Finally, guy walking out just walks out and people writing continue doing that.

                                                                                                                           to be continued.......