Junglebook, Mahabharata, Alloo prantha and a game of cricket…..

The other day I was sitting with my friends and we were having beer and listening to music on youtube. Suddenly one of my friends mentioned about a song that used to come on Doordarshan when we were kids. It was called “Ek Chidiya Anek Chidiya”. Thanks to youtube, we were able to find that song and we saw it all over again. Everyone was quiet and watching it, each one taken to his own childhood. I am sure we all got nostalgic.

And suddenly within minutes I was shipped to the “Doordarshan Era”. The time when Chitrahar was awaited for the entire week, even though it was merely on for 30 min and just had hindi movie songs. But such was the charm of TV and the programs then. Even something like Saptahiki (Weekly TV guide) had a cult following. Who can forget the Malgudi days?
It made me think, where had that charm vanished now? Why don’t I get excited about watching something as simple as movie music on TV? I decided to stop thinking about it then in order to continue enjoying my beer. However, I did make mental note of it and decided to think about it when I was on my own.

So here I am on a Saturday evening sipping yet another beer and writing this. I am thinking about a typical Sunday I used to have when I was in school. Sunday mornings were all about the Junglebook, Mahabharata, Alloo Parantha and a game of cricket. That was the time when I used to look forward to Sundays. It was a family day and a friends’ day. There was something special about each Sunday though most of the activities were the same.

I think as the time passed apart from age there was something else that took the charm from the ever green Sundays. I think as we started having more options. With each new option we moved away from the basics.

To be continued….

Death of super heroes

I would like to put the topic in context in the beginning itself. This is not about Superman or Spiderman or any other man who can fly, save the world or wear his undergarment over the trousers.

It is about this thought that was brewing in mind over several days now. I finally decided to pen it down. It’s a theory that goes something like:

As you grow old the number of superheroes in your life decline.

Now you must be wondering what the hell am I talking about? By super heroes I mean people whom you have looked up to throughout your childhood. People who were immortal. I am talking about people who had answers to all your questions.

One of my biggest superheroes is my father. I remember sitting on his lap only 4-5 yrs old trying to measure his biceps with my hands that bought a reassuring smile that yes he is the strongest in the world. I used to love copying his walk; the way he used to eat above all used to love wearing his clothes and wonder when will I fit into them. For some inexplicable reason he had answers to all my questions no matter how tough they might be (or at that time they were for me).

As I started to grow and started to explore the world beyond the boundaries of my house and I realized may be he is not as super as I thought he was. Please do not get me wrong here. I love him the same way as I did while measuring his biceps. I respect him and am very proud of him. But as I grew older I realized may be he is not the strongest after all, there were some unanswered questions. And what made me realize that he is as human as anyone can be was when I grew taller than him. Something snapped that day something that announced that from today onwards he was my father and not someone who could save this world if need be.
There are several other similar heroes that were once immortal and god like for me. But over time I have grown out of that perception. Though honestly, I would like to go back in time and feel the same way about the heroes (specially my dad) like I did when I was 5 years old. The sense of security I got by their presence I miss it.

I know things evolve and not everyone remains the same. As I started growing up the world started unfolding itself. It showed me several colors some nice some not so nice. I liked the idea of being independent not answerable to anyone and doing everything on my own. So I started on this journey that took me to Mumbai and then to US. Little did I realize more I experimented with myself more I will be missing my previous life. There are a lot of unanswered questions in my mind one of the biggest is “How did I come this far?”

I know it’s for my own good and these are lessons of life that I should sit through. But what is the fee I am paying for this course?

Coming back to the main topic yes I do not have so many super heroes as I used to have but now I myself am a superhero for my little cousins, nephews and nieces. I would like to enjoy this phase and not break their illusion. Let them figure it out themselves.

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The uneasiness of being there for the first time……

Today I landed in Germany, my first time. Though, I think I have traveled a lot over the last two years but still I can not get over the initial feeling of uneasiness. The feeling is similar to the one that a kid gets on his first day in school when the mother leaves him inside the school gate and the gate closes. For the small boy it’s the end of world. He cries, screams kicks the gate, can do anything to get back to the world he knows. Uncertain of what lies ahead he refuses to turn around and walk inside the school until he is literally dragged inside. For him the world as he knows till now includes his house, his family and few friends he made while daily trips to the parks with his mom. And there is he suddenly somewhere he has never seen or experienced on his own (atleast initially), who does he trust, who to ask for food when he gets hungry? Who will he run to when he suddenly gets frightened by some shadow or his imagination running wild?
The same feeling has dawned on me every time I have stepped out of my house to be on my own. Be it my first day in school, college, office, Dubai, US, Mumbai, US again and now Germany. Since the time I have landed here I have been trying to get out of that feeling but with little success. If I was a kid right now I would have been kicking the door and trying to get back to where I have come from. But then I am 25 years now (ok ok let me cherish the last few hours of quarter life), I am not allowed to do that. So what do I do?? I instead sit and write all this.
And guess what is the funniest thing, whenever I go through this feeling, its not that I am missing US (cause that’s home now) but it’s the comfort of my Delhi home. I miss the sense of security you have knowing very well that there is someone you can run and hide behind in case your imagination runs wild. A murmur can bring your mom, your father in your room. And here I am in Germany where even my scream will go unheard.
But another thing I have learned over the last 2 years. This feeling is temporary, eventually the kid falls in love with his school and he no longer stares beyond the gate and think when he will go home.

Looking forward to tomorrow now :-)

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