Memories #5-How I Met your Mother

As my 5 month old son lay cooing next to me, I decided to narrate the story to him of “How I met your Mother”in the voice of the protagonist Ted Moseby of the popular show. This was my favorite sitcom from the last decade only second to the all-time great F.R.I.E.N.D.S. For starters both our houses back in our hometown of Trivandrum (TVM), Kerala are merely a km apart. However, both of us left the place almost a decade back me for work and she for Post-Graduation/Work.  Growing up I recollect seeing her in a number of occasions since both of us went to the same church. But my wife has no recollection of seeing me at all. I was a bit unsettled when she told me this for the first time because I was fairly high profile in the church thanks to dabbling various roles like the Altar Server*, Catechism(Sunday School ) Teacher, Bible reader during the Church Service and so on. I guess it was her way to put me in my place then itself. To prove a point during our wedding ceremony I made sure that I did the Bible Reading myself which was unprecedented. My rationale was that way at least she would at least understand that I was not boasting.

*Altar Servers-An altar server is a lay assistant to a member of the clergy during a Christian liturgy. An altar server attends to supporting tasks at the altar such as fetching and carrying, ringing the altar bell, among other things. Source: Wikipedia

I also recollect vaguely seeing her in the White and Maroon School uniform of St Thomas School while waiting at the bus stop and all. Now a bit of history about our Schools there was a bit of rivalry among our schools since these were among the prominent Schools of the city. Today even while going to a get together involving the former Alumni of these schools we don’t let slip an opportunity to make fun of each other’s School.  Loyola my school was a boys only school while St Thomas School was a co-ed school. The rivalries in basketball tournaments is quite well known. Not only  that LA Fest, the one of its kind Cultural fest organized by Loyola for schools at that  time saw a whole hearted participation from St Thomas. I can’t go ahead without mentioning another School in the city  viz Holy Angels because this was a girls only School and a favorite topic of interest of the Loyolites.  In addition there were umpteen tuition classes in the city which comprised of students of all these schools. These were some of the forums that the students from schools interacted with each other .There is no chance we might have met in tuition classes because we are from 2 different batches.

Once while we were discussing our activities in the Church it came to our notice that in the year 2000 both of us had gone in the Church bus to write an exam conducted by the Trivandrum Archdiocese*. Both of us had topped for Catechism (Sunday school) in our respective classes and were selected to represent our Parish in that class. Come to think of it both of us were in that bus chatting with our friends oblivious of the fact that their life partner is in that very same bus. This could very well be a scene straight out of the movie. I remember that journey and the exam very well because it t was the first time I had topped the class and got to represent my Parish. I was in my 10^th grade at that time.

* An Archdiocese refers to an administrative territorial entity of the Catholic Church in a district headed by the Archbishop and is divided into Parishes under the charge of priests. Source: Wikipedia

I have often imagined how both of us would have interacted if we had the met back then. The following excerpt is prepared with inputs from Jeslin as well.

18 years ago during the Vacation Bible class in our Church both of us meet.

Angelo: Hi, my name is Angelo

Jeslin: Hi I am Jeslin

Angelo: I remember seeing you for the TVM Arch Diocese exam last month.

Jeslin: I don’t recollect seeing you

Angelo: How did the exam go?

Jeslin: It was okay

Angelo: I am studying in 10^th grade in Loyola School and also the Alter boys Leader

Jeslin (in her condescending tone): So what am I supposed to do?

Angelo: Just wanted to say hello

Jeslin: Okay

Angelo (Thinking to himself and beating a hasty retreat): She is very haughty, shouldn’t have spoken to her in the first place.
Jeslin (Thinking to herself): What is wrong with that guy?

XX End of story XX

Almost a decade and a half later both of us were attending the Marriage Preparation course at the Headquarters of the Trivandrum Arch Diocese. I was asked to assist the Archbishop in the Holy Mass Service that he was offering for all the couples present there. I have not assisted in a Holy Mass after my School days but more or less knew what needs to be done. As I was getting ready I remarked to the Mother Superior (Head Nun) that it was a strange co- incidence that the last time I served for this very same Bishop in a Holy Mass was about 15 years ago. He had visited our Parish for administering the Sacrament of Confirmation*. Incidentally my wife was also one of the recipients and I was the head alter server then. I felt as if life had come a full circle for me. The Nun told me that it is Providence that brought you two together and you guys are a blessed couple.

*The Sacrament of Confirmation is one of the three sacraments of initiation into the Catholic Church together with Baptism and Holy Communion. (source:www.catholiccompany.com)

Even today it beats me as to think as to how my wife could miss out such a prominent figure like me in the church during that time. Many a times I have tried to narrate incidents to her that might invoke in her some memory of me but I fail miserably .I always console myself by saying that maybe I might have looked very different at that time. This could be the reason why she couldn’t recognize me years later. Come to think of it every husband wants his wife to hold him in high regard.I would like to share an interesting anecdote in this regard of Field Marshal SFHJ Manekshaw one of the finest Military Generals of the Indian Army. During one of the public meetings where he was being felicitated for his extraordinary leadership during the Indo-Pak war, a speaker was going on and on singing praises of the General. While it was his chance to speak the General requested the speaker to write those praises in a piece of paper so that the General could show that to his wife which evoked a huge round of laughter.  

Memories #4 - Newspapers

 

Courtesy: Malayala Manorama website

 

Somewhere in the early 90’s I was introduced to “Malayala Manorama” the news paper that was subscribed in our home at that time.It has to be noted that this is one of the leading news dailies in Kerala. I used to observe the newspaper being closely read by each member of the household. At first I started checking out the paper out of curiosity. It was rather amusing to see that the men folk of the house were the most interested in the last page(sports page ). The magazine section that came along with the Sunday issue was eagerly awaited. There was a particular column in the Newspaper titled “Innathe Chinthavishayam”(Roughly translated to’ Today’s subject of thought’) which was religiously read everyone at home. It was a column on self-improvement, philosophy and the like. I never even bothered to look into that because it hardly made sense to me. But still it was interesting to see everyone asking each other if they had read it and they used to discuss its main points. This was my first initiation into the world of newspapers.

Gradually as I moved into adolescence The Indian Express was introduced to me with the intention of improving my English. At this stage of life there was competition for reading the newspaper now with my brother as we used to fight for the paper. We used to have fights with each other to get hold of the newspaper. My kid brother was interested mostly in the comic section of the newspaper. And yeah the TV guide section of the newspaper which detailed the programs of the Cartoon Network. It was the time when you started to read the newspaper from the last page. I still remember the Youth express titled “YES ” that was shared with the newspaper of Every Friday. It was here that I was introduced to the Page 3 news for the first time. This issue was half the size of the original paper and used to feature in its last page small posters of youth icons mostly Models and Sports stars. I remember vividly seeing such a picture of Trisha who had just started her career and was crowned Miss Chennai at that time. For the uninitiated Trisha is a leading Female Superstar of the Tamil movie industry who is still active. I remember there were also other columns in the issue that gave you the first taste of the tabloid culture. Another interesting thing I remember was the concept of Pen friend was introduced by this paper. I remember writing a couple of letters but never received any response. The language of the Indian Express was easy to understand and follow hence there was not much of an effort required to read it.

 

Courtesy: The Hindu website

Into the teens I was introduced to yet another newspaper “The Hindu” , to raise the bar of English vocabulary to another notch. I was in for a rude shock, this was totally different from the paper I was used to. For starters it was a very dry paper with only ‘news’. Young World was definitely a whiff of fresh air. For the first time you got to see the creations of the kids of your age who used to write from around the country. Even the language was very difficult to follow and not easy to comprehend. There were times when both of us used to get scolded for not spending time reading the newspaper. The major complaint was that the paper was as good as new even after a week, a testimony to the fact that no one had touched that. I even remember crumpling the paper intentionally to prevent such mishaps from happening. Thankfully my folks persisted. Slowly but steadily we started to get a hang of the newspaper. The Sunday Magazine was my favourite and I remember reading them cover to cover. For the record a good part of the Indian public first heard of Shashi Tharoor when he stood for election as the Secretary General of the UN. But long before that I was a regular reader of “The Shashi Tharoor Column” that was a part of the Hindu Sunday Magazine. He used to write on a varied list of subjects including his Alma mater St Stephen’s College Delhi. During that time when my friends at school were dreaming about joining IIT’s and AIMS I had this deep desire to study at St Stephen’s which never materialized. Years later while I was walking through the tree lined avenue of the North Campus of Delhi University I happened to pass through the gates of the college and immediately it sparked a string of memories. Over the years reading a newspaper turned out to be a leisure activity that I used to do when I took breaks from studying.

Moving to Delhi for the preparation of the UPSC Civil Services (IAS exam) it dawned on me that “The Hindu” was revered in this field of study.  Further it was extensively used for preparations and referred religiously .The editorials had to be read and analyzed in depth, this was the only thing new to me because I never used to pay much attention to the Editorials previously. Every day I used to spend considerable amount of time pouring through the paper and making notes on the daily happenings in a thick Spiral bound book. This came naturally to me since I was pretty comfortable with the newspaper right from my teens. It is in Delhi that I got the first taste of “Times of India” tabloid kind of masala newspaper. In my flat that I used to share with my fellow Civil Service aspirants we used to subscribe the paper for the glossy pictures in it. The colour section of the thick Delhi Times with news from Bollywood and the glamour world was the only source of entertainment for us at that time since our lives were devoid of Laptops and Cable Television.

After my stint in Delhi “The Hindu” became an integral part of my life. During my brief Tenure in an Engineering college in my home state of Kerala. I made it a point that I read through the Hindu to kill time in their Library since I was free after 6 PM and needed to go to the College Hostel only for dinner. As per the Library staff I was the only guy who used to go through the Hindu. They were even thinking of stopping the subscription of the newspaper since no one used to read it.

Then I landed up in Mumbai little did I know that I would have to bid goodbye to the habit called “The Hindu” in course of time. For starters there was no Mumbai edition back then. None of the newspaper stalls stocked it. I was in for a shock but luckily I found out a guy who was ready to provide me the previous day’s paper and that too at double its price. He said that these were specially flown in from Chennai. It was still fine for me because thanks to my work I was super busy and it didn’t matter which day you got the news. After sometime even this stopped because I started to get 2 days old newspapers and it was untenable. However,it was quite strange that I got the “Malayala Manorama”  in Mumbai. I made it a point that I would read the Malayalam dailies during the weekend and it made me reminiscent of my childhood.

I had great expectations when they started the Mumbai edition for my favourite newspaper. The series of ads that The Hindu and Times made spoofing each other was rather amusing to watch. The beauty of it was that I could relate to each of them because I had read both the papers. But still I couldn’t bring myself to take the Times seriously. Even today I read it feels just like I am reading some story not to be taken seriously. I was in for a huge disappointed when they brought out The Hindu Mumbai edition. It was an end to end colour print with double the price. It appeared to me that they were trying to mimic their rival in an effort to capture the market share. In the process they lost the readership of the serious readers like myself because I felt the newspaper lost its soul. However, the Trivandrum Edition which I used to read when I go to my hometown still maintains the high standards as before.

 In Mumbai I switched to The Indian Express which had a few stalwarts who had left the Hindu like Praveen Swami, Nirupama Subramanian, Praveen Swami, P Sainath etc. On Sundays when I go through the magazine section it is a sense of deja vu for me. I try to catch up during the weekends with Malayala Manorama which has started to loose its rustic charm, I strongly feel that I am slowly outgrowing it. That ladies and gentlemen is the story of the newspapers in my life, its like a cycle I started off with the Indian Express and ended up with Indian Express. If you ask me with the advent of technology Newspapers are dying a slow death. But believe me the feeling that you get with a hot cup of chai and the newspaper in your hand on a Sunday morning is irreplaceable.

I

Courtesy: Indian Express website

 

Memories #3 - The Cycle

I have been living in Mumbai for close to 7 years now and calling it my second home.  However, when pangs of nostalgia hit me I long for the city where I grew up in viz Trivandrum (TVM). Thanks to the birth of my son I got to have an extended stay in my hometown. I decided to spend some quality time with TVM (its not only with people that you get to spend a quality time).

My Hercules MTB bicycle was one of the first possessions in life that had came into my hands on June 6, 1998 when I was around 12. I have spent a good part of my adolescent years in that cycle until the advent of my bike in July 2004. The bicycle did take a backseat in my life and was handed over to my younger brother. Since the fitness bug had bit me back then even after owning a bike I made it a point that every weekday I used to cycle for 4 km from my home to All Saints College and back. I had zeroed in on the route just like that without any thought. I used to set out after coming home from college around 5:15 pm and be back by 6:30 pm .Now it has to be noted that All Saints College is one of the most popular girls college of the city. Naturally my mother got suspicious and engaged my brother to spy on me for a couple of days after seeing me religiously cycling every weekday. My brother reported to her that there was no monkey business. The reality was, at that point of time I didn’t even know the monkey or any business per se. Well it was just a coincidence that later in life I got married to the daughter of the Vice Principal of that very same college. Moving on I had a lot of memories attached with my bicycle. Just like the wheel of a car I used to refer to the handle of the Cycle as ‘The Barrel’ in the stories I used to write then. So naturally the cycle was all fixed up so that I can use it during my time in TVM.

 

 

I had longed for this cycle very much because until then I was using a much smaller cycle from my time in Gwalior. I remember that I was on cloud nine when I got to lay my hands on the beauty. My over smart brother who could barely reach out to the pedals started to use the cycle occasionally. Now to put him off I raised the height of the cycle to the maximum. To my dismay he started to stand and cycle so that he doesn’t have to sit anymore. I tell him always that you owe me one for your height of 6 feet 3 inches. There were countless instances when both of us had to go to church or someplace else and I used to ride with him. He used to sit in the rod between the handle bar and the seat while I cycled. Due to his growth spurt he far overtook me in height and we started to ride the cycle the other way round. One fine day while he was taking me to the bus stop so that I could go to college. He was bragging about the kind of control he had over the cycle. In the course of the conversation he started to ride the cycle with one hand to prove what he was saying. In an effort to further prove his point he let go both of his hands unmindful of my strong protests. We promptly crashed into an Electric Post at the side of the road while I landed up in the wall adjacent to the post,my brother fell on the road with the cycle. Years later it was a déjà vu moment when both of us fell onto the side of the road in our bike while navigating a slope. In both cases my brother was driving.

Barrotta, beef fry, chicken fry, all sorts of fish fried in coconut oil, Kappa-meen curry(Tapioca-fish curry) were my fellow travelers during my time in Trivandrum. It was as if I was making amends for the time I was away from here. I used take my wife for morning walks at the Napiers Museum, Kanakakunnu Palace and International Airport. Never ever until now had I visited these places with the intention just to walk around and I began to see these places in a totally different light. At other times my day in TVM started off with a 13 km cycle ride across the city to relive my adolescence. I always felt that I didn’t have to force myself unlike in Mumbai where I had to push myself every morning for a jog. During the course of my ride my mind was at ease and I had such clarity of thought that it gave me time to think reflect on a lot of things.  The idea for my previous 2 blog posts came to me while I was cycling .Cycling across TVM was the most liberating experience that I had, of letting go everything, it was as if I was a teenager back in time and boy that was such a wonderful feeling. And now I understand why it felt so effortless to go cycling every single morning.  It was simply because there were far too many memories attached to the activity. If you ask me anything and everything associated with nostalgia is definitely going to give you immense joy.

The side road from my house will lead up to the Vanchiyoor Court. The gentle incline of the Holy Angels Convent School. As I pass through reminiscent of my grade 3 classroom my muscles slowly warm up from the extra strain. The challenging incline of General Hospital to the calm level roads in front of the AKG Centre(the nerve centre of the ruling Communist party of Kerala) is quite a relief. As I turn right from the roundabout in front of Kerala University I am reminded of my Engineering days(I graduated from this very University). Into the Underpass (an engineering marvel back on its day) towards  Bakery junction. A sharp left before the RBI building into a steep incline passing through to the  Nandavanam Police Camp and Excise Commissioner’s Office. As lactic acid builds into your aching muscles you reach the Museum Police Station. You just want to rest your legs as you just glide down to Vellayambalam and take a left .

As you cycle through the tree lined avenues creating a canopy for the tired souls along Vellayamblam Kowdiar route slowly you are able to catch your breath. The enormity of the Raj Bhavan hits you when it takes a bit of time to traverse its length.I have travelled so many times through this road but have never seen the neatly trimmed grass forming the shape of 2 elephants along with the words”Raj Bhavan”. For a brief period of time there were some brick installations exhibited in that very stretch which were put up to mark the birth centenary of renowned British born Indian Architect Laurie baker .Art is definitely an integral part of this city. One day I saw a battered superbike in the footpath that presented a stark reminder of a high speed crash the previous night. It has to be noted that the Vellaymabalam-Kowdiar stretch is also a preferred spot for racing stunts. Taking a left from Kowdiar Junction passing through the new foodie stretch lined up with a number of eateries into Marappalam which opens into the Plammodu Junction.Taking a right from  Plammodu junction towards Gowreeshapattom I reach Patoor via Vadayakkadu and Moolavilakam. This stretch opens a flood gate of memories for me.

One fine day when I was 11 years old or so I along with my younger brother who is in his KG disembarked from our school bus and were walking home. As we entered the house our mother asked him as to where his school bag was. He looked at me,I just shook my head and replied that he had left it in the bus. Till this day I still can’t find a reason as to what happened next. I grabbed my bicycle not the one that I have described here but rather the small one that my Dad got for me when I was in Gwalior. I tried to chase down the school bus in my cycle, can you believe that? I don’t know what I was thinking. I remember going through the school diary to try to understand as to what route the bus was taking. It so happened that the bus was taking a longer route and was going round and round in an area not far from my home. I cycled furiously to Patoor Junction only to see in the distance the taillights of the bus disappearing. I didn’t lose hope and still gave chase, as I had said earlier the bus was going round and round in an effort to drop maximum number of students thereby covering a very small distance.To cut a long story short as the bus had completed dropping everyone I ran up to the bus conductor totally out of breath telling him that I need to get a bag. I was panting like hell when I raced into the bus to retrieve the prized possession of the bag. Even today when I cycle through the Vadayacadu-Moolavilakam Patoor stretch I have goosebumps reliving this experience.

Finally from Patoor Junction I take a right towards Pettah and again take a side road to Ambalathumukku junction and finally my home. A journey of  close to 13 kms in little under an hour on a slow lane will give you a totally different perspective of life when you complete it.

Moving on it also gave me a chance to step back and analyze what has changed in the city I grew up in. Due to the heavy traffic I couldn’t use the same route for cycling which I used in my college days. Technopark(an IT Park) in the city had changed the face of the city. There is a very high number of Software professionals from the length and breadth of the country based in TVM. The movie theatres that I used to frequent had totally changed and would give a run for its money to any multiplex that I have visited in Mumbai. I also happened to witness the opening of the first mall in TVM with much fanfare. As any other growing city TVM is also grappling with traffic woes. Last but not the least the it has become extremely hot in TVM. The temperature definitely has shot up by a few notches from the time I have lived there.

P.S: Fast forward 2021 we are in the midst of a pandemic. Most of us are in TVM we meet at badminton courts on a daily basis in the mornings. Understandably I am too lazy to go play my excuse being I would much rather go cycling for my cardio rather than making a fool of myself because let us face it I suck in the game. For the record I don’t cycle from a fitness perspective but to satiate my need of going back in time and being the boy of 12 whose most prized possession was this very cycle. Fitness is for the heartless freaks ,romantics like me would choose nostalgia any day over sweating it out in the gym.

To read more School meet ups in transition

 

 

An Epic Road Trip-Part 2

Jude was a bit reluctant and argued with them to let us go because we were already very much behind schedule but the Police were reluctant to let us go. What made them suspicious was that we didn’t have any luggage for such a long journey. SK was going to Trivandrum only for the weekend so he didn’t have much luggage with him. Both me and Arun just had a small bag with our clothes. They felt that something somewhere didn’t add up. Arun was wearing a black Lungi and Superman T-shirt. Jude and myself were in our slacks which didn’t give an impression that we were on a road trip. SK was the only guy who was properly dressed. Finally I had to call up a friend of mine from my IAS coaching days in Delhi who was currently an I.P.S officer in Karnataka to let us carry on with our journey without any further delay.

We decided to take it slow so as to get over the harrowing experience and stopped the car to get some tender coconut water. Arun struck up a conversation with the Lorry driver and even got him tender coconuts to be allowed to take some photographs in his Lorry.

 
  

  

Finally in the evening we reached Bangalore. Our dear friend Rakesh a top notch lawyer came to us with food to show his support and wish me luck. We saved a lot of time because of this and were off to Cochin driving through the night. As a matter of fact we had covered close to 1500 kms in little above 24 hours. In the wee hours of Sunday as they dropped me off at my Uncle’s place in Cochin it was a job well done and would later go on to be known as “The Cochin Job” in the lines of the Italian Job.

On the way back there was just one driver Jude and gradually the arduous journey started to take a toll on him. Now for the uninitiated it has to be noted that Arun hardly knew driving at that point of time and didn’t even have a driving license. The Lawyer who got 3 of us to undertake this crazy journey decided to try his luck to persuade Arun to take up the wheel for some time so that he could rest. Moreover, there was a 200 km 4 lane stretch ahead.

  

Understandably Arun was fast asleep, slowly Jude parked the car to the side of the road and woke up Arun . With a fair bit of coaxing and cajoling Jude managed to convince Arun to take up the driver’s seat .Jude in the meantime was cheeky enough to hand over the steering wheel to him and go to sleep for a considerable amount of time.

At one of the Toll Plazas in between, 2 men requested for a lift to Mumbai. The men said that you need not pay the toll tax all the way till Mumbai courtesy because of them. Jude and Arun were perplexed , firstly these guys could be anybody and secondly they couldn’t make up their mind to trust those guys on the road. The hitch hikers turned out to be Army Jawans who were stationed in Lebanon as part of the International Peace Keeping Force. At every toll plaza once they show their ID cards they are allowed free transit. They had come to their respective native places and were returning to Mumbai for their onward flight to Delhi where they were supposed to report. They began narrating their experiences in Africa and slowly Jude and Arun warmed up to them.  Incidentally one of them was a military truck driver, Jude promptly handed over the Steering wheel to him and went off to sleep again with Arun on the watch.

The travelling party reached Mumbai as a new week dawned over the horizon they were dead tired but their minds buzzing. After dropping off the Armymen in the airport they picked up Shilpa who drove them over for an early morning breakfast to a restaurant overlooking the sea. As the couple were gazing into the sea Jude was contemplating as to what was in store for his brother. This was first among his many long distance drives from Mumbai. Jude had undertaken a total of 3 road trips from Mumbai to Trivandrum out of which two were solo and one in a Tata Nano.

As for me the meeting with the girl did not yield a positive result and I lived to fight another day. My mom who had come to Cochin was delighted to know that her younger son and friends pulled out such a coup d’etat. But equally angry because Jude didn’t meet her and say hello to her after travelling such a long distance. Till date SK’s wife doesn’t know the real reason as to why many years back her husband reached for Lunch on that Vishu day and took his flight back to Mumbai after a couple of hours

Years later Jude was having a bad day as a Corporate Lawyer trying to close a deal with an important client. He took a breather and went out for a smoke at that instant he gets a call from Arun who was in Dubai informing him that he had just cleared the UAE driving test and expressed his sincere gratitude to his first driving guru.  Ambrose reminisced “ If I can get those 3 jokers to undertake the crazy trip in a car for close to 56 hours nonstop, covering four state of Maharashtra, Karnataka, Tamil Nadu and Kerala along the way I can very well convince anybody”. He took a deep breath and walked back in to the boardroom to clinch the deal. As for the 3 jokers they realized that Engineering was not their calling and thankfully moved into Managerial Roles. 

At the end of it when I look back that slip of the tongue from Jude where he said that we could go from Mumbai to Cochin and come back within flat 20 hours turned out to be one of the most badass moments in my life. This trip will be the gold standard to which all later trips were compared to.I have often come across instances where after days of planning when we finally undertake a trip it wouldn’t be that great. Most often than not the trips that come out of the spontaneous decisions turn out to be absolutely exhilarating and liberating to a great extent. You just let your spirit soar into the unknown and the rest will be history. The experiences that we have in these kind of scenarios are totally out of the world.  In a nutshell “Great memories are made of impromptu outrageous experiences”.

 Friendship is the one of the vital keystones in a person's life, true friendship overcomes distance, time and what not .Myself, Sreekumar and Arun have known each other for more than 25 years now. We first met at Holy Angels Convent School, Trivandrum during the course of our Primary Schooling then went on to study in Loyola School as well. It also helped that we lived nearby during that point of time in our lives until we completed our graduation. Post that we haven’t been in close contact much because life had taken us all in 3 different locations for many many years. Even today all 3 of us live in 3 different cities but still we manage to keep touch .But true friendships overcome distance, time and what not. It only takes time and a little effort to nurture friendships into something truly special. Come the hour and the men delivered, Period.  

  

If you ask me, one has lived a rich and fruitful life if you are able to tell stories such as these to everyone around you. An experience need not cause an impact at that moment of time but years later when you look back at the memory that is the moment when nostalgia hits you. This trip was undertaken by me and my friends 4 years ago but even today this tale has been told and retold in the countless get-togethers we have been to. That is precisely the reason why I wanted to put this on the record so that this memory does not get lost in course of time.

P.S:- For the travel junkies who are wondering as to which route we took.

Mumbai-Pune-Satara-Kolhapur-Belgaum-Hubli-Davangere-Chitradurga-Tumkur-Bangalore-Hosur-Krishnagiri-Dharmapuri-Salem-Erode-Palakkad-Thrissur-Cochin

The End

With inputs from Ambrose Jude, Sreekumar and Arun Sudheendran

  
Click here for Part 1

An Epic Road Trip-1

SK working in Pune was supposed to leave for Trivandrum (our hometown) from Mumbai the next day. Since it was a weekend I asked him to come stay at my place and take his flight the next day. I decided to invite my dear friend Arun as well so that we could have an impromptu party at my place on Friday night. Since it was an all Malayali get together the usual suspects were in attendance. Beef, Alcohol, Kerala Chicken Fry and Barotta .The irony of it all was that our guest of honour SK was a teetotaler and a pure vegetarian. All 3 of us were just chilling out at my place when my brother Jude joined us. A law student in Mumbai he had come to spend time with me over the weekend.

Off late I had discovered that being an employed Malayali guy of marriageable age is a tough ask and that too living far away from Kerala.  All of your friends around you are either married or in the process of getting married. My guests for the evening were discussing their domestic travails of their 2 year old marriage and here I was thinking of getting married. My train of thoughts was interrupted by a phone call from my mom who was asking me if I could make it to Cochin(a city 1500 kms south of Mumbai) on Sunday because she wanted me to meet a girl there. I was like what the hell it is Friday night and you want me to reach Cochin within 48 hours. Well you can’t pretty much argue with the boss. We all started looking for flights and trains but because of the of Vishu(New Year festival in Kerala) on Sunday the flights and trains were overbooked.

All of us barring SK were in high spirits since the Party had already started.  Jude pitched for a crazy idea as to why don’t we drive Angelo to Cochin. He said what are friends for if they can’t rise upto the occasion and make things happen. His rationale was that right now it is Friday Midnight if we start from here now by driving nonstop we could reach Cochin in 10 hours. After dropping me if they drive back to Mumbai again nonstop they can come back to Mumbai in another 10 hours. This way Arun will not have to miss work on Monday and Jude will not miss his exam as well.

 Arun pensively asked me if I really wanted to meet this girl to which I replied in the affirmative. SK who had been a silent spectator all along was all pumped up. He cancelled his flight ticket for the next day so as to join us in this road trip. He said that we could use an extra driver for the long journey. Jude the lawyer managed to convince the 3 Engineers on such a crazy idea. Even today I fail to understand as to why SK who was in full senses agreed to be part of the plot. This given the fact that he could be at Trivandrum the very next day without much of a hassle

The journey begins

 

SK, myself and Arun

Jude, the Lawyer

We packed up whatever food was left behind. I took one of the best pair of my clothes, my mind was buzzing in anticipation for the upcoming meeting. We had a pit stop at Arun’s place to inform his spouse about the plan, it was well over midnight. As we parked our car I made a bet with Jude that Arun’s wife is not going to fall for this crazy idea and he is not going to come with us.   Don’t know if Shilpa was too sleepy to even comprehend as to what her husband was saying, nevertheless Arun came back promptly with a change of clothes. Later on we came to know that Shilpa had reminded Arun that they had to renew the lease of their house which was expiring on Monday. He was planning to finish off that task the next day. Arun assured her that he would see it on Monday without fail. Shilpa warned him that he better stick to his word or else they could be homeless after Monday.

 

To our discomfort we realized that we were out of Gas. Even at this hour there was a considerable amount of rush to fill gas. We stopped behind the long line of cars Jude the lawyer again got into action he went to every car in the line and made up a cock and bull story that the guy in the car missed his flight and was not able to go for his wedding. As friends they were planning to drive him to the venue and were short of time. As we passed each of the cars the drivers smiled and nodded to me.

The drive out of Mumbai city was uneventful but we were in for a surprise as we reached the ghat section. We had not anticipated the Truck traffic at this time of the hour. Boy it was incredulous and with great difficulty we maneuvered through the multitude of heavy vehicles. It had been 10 hours since we started the journey. We stopped at the side of the highway for a quick bite of the food that we had with us. As the day dawned we 3 ENGINEERS realized that the LAWYER had taken us for a ride as we had made very little progress. We were nowhere near even half way thorough to our intended destination. Once the reality sunk into each one of us we understood the enormity of the task that lay ahead of us but we decided to soldier on. Jude and SK took turns in driving as I was forbidden from driving because they didn’t want to tire me out. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                   

After sometime SK’s wife called him to ensure if he had checked in for the flight on time to which SK replied that he was at the airport and it appeared to him that the flight was cancelled. He assured that he would keep her posted and disconnected the call. All of us stared at him with a look of amusement. He had to come up with something innovative to be able to explain as to why he was delayed we all deliberated on the permutations and combinations of the possibilities by which SK would reach Trivandrum on Sunday Morning. Finally after a couple of hours he called his wife and informed her that he got a flight to Bangalore. From Bangalore he would take an overnight bus and would be with her on Sunday Morning. The story sounded believable because it was Saturday afternoon now and at the rate at which we were going we would reach Cochin in the wee hours of Sunday. From there SK could take a train and reach Trivandrum by around 10-11 in the morning.

 

We couldn’t stop for a break but rather continued our journey. We were driving the entire day without a break. We had a flat tyre in between but luckily we were passing through a city so we had help at hand. As we were waiting for the tyre to be replaced Jude noticed that there was a Unisex parlour across the road. With support from Sudhi he managed to cojole me to get a facial in a bid to improve my prospects. Post the facial my face was wrapped in a towel like a jack fruit so that I could be preserved from the hard sunlight. You women will never understand what all we men go through to get hitched.

 

 

The journey continued, somewhere in Karnataka we were stopped by the Highway Patrol which seemed to us as a routine checking. After the initial checks of the license and the papers they were not very convinced about our story. They asked us to come to the Police Station so that they can thoroughly check our car.  Supposedly they had received a tip off that some contraband was being transported via road and that was the reason why they had set up the patrol in the first place.

 To be Continued……

Click here for Part 2

“Men and Dreams in the Dhauladhar”-A Book to Remember

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon when I and my wife were roaming around streets of South Mumbai after having a wholesome meal at Café Mondegar. There was a book launch at Kitab Khana, a popular book shop in the vicinity and I had half a mind to attend the event for which I had received an invitation via facebook. There was also another reason why wanted to go there, I had happy memories of that place where I had last visited when I attended the book launch of my younger brother about 4 years back for a similar event .I was filled with pride when I witnessed the 20 year old brother of mine delivering a speech where he was describing his experience of authoring his first book. The train of thoughts was disrupted by my wife’s question directed to me “What next? I am tired”. I told her why not got to a book launch to a nearby book store. She nodded in agreement and said that at least we can get away from the sweltering heat and spend sometime in the book shop which was air conditioned. As we were walking towards the book shop my wife asked how well I knew the author to which I replied that I hardly knew the author and I had seen an invitation in the Alumni page of my alma mater. She stopped in her tracks and asked me if I really wanted to gatecrash the event of someone whom I was only distantly acquainted to. I brushed her objections and walked into the book shop.

 

Once inside I instantly recognized the author from his profile picture in Facebook. As I walked to him I was in a dilemma as to how to address my Senior from school he had passed out from my school almost 3 decades before I graduated from school, in a way he belonged to a different  generation altogether. My wife cringed when I addressed Shibu, the author as Chetta(big brother in Malayalam) she said to me later, you should to have addressed him as “Sir” being very  junior to him. I could see the glint in his eyes when I told him that I was a former student of Loyola School Trivandrum and was delighted to meet him in person because I had already heard about his book earlier. He said there was another Loyolite from his batch somewhere in the venue whom I met later in the course of the evening. My wife’s initial apprehension disappeared after she saw with how much warmth we interacted, I guess that is a feeling only Loyolites will understand.

During his Introduction the author attributed his decision to pen a book to the strong foundation in creative writing that was laid on him during his School days. The spark that was ignited in his mind as a child grew into a burning desire to write a book decades later. This made me proud and I felt that I was indeed privileged to have studied in the same school as him. It was this strong bond that all of us shared with our school that brought me as an audience to this very event even though I hardly knew the author.  The author went on to describe his experiences that he had in the foothills of the Himalayas where he was based due to his vocation which formed the basis of his book. The various people whom he had met during his stint over there have contributed a great deal in mounding the characters of his book. There was something he said that deeply touched me “No matter who you are everyone has a dream and how you live the rest of your life is structured around that dream”. I managed to sneak in a question during the Q & A session where I asked the author what would be his advice to the wannabe writers out there, to which he gave a well-rounded reply. He said you need to have loads to patience and a strong desire to single heartedly follow your passion of writing. He explained that it was only because of his perseverance that he was be able to complete his book. Many a times he had started off to write a book but somewhere down the line it was lost and the book died its natural death in its initial stages of its development.

As the event drew to its close I caught hold of a book and got it duly autographed by the author. Finishing of the book was to be my main mission the following Sunday. I was really excited by the thought because I was once again the boy who loved to read the entire book on a single day without doing anything else. I guess every serious reader would relate to this feeling once you stumble upon the simple pleasures of reading somewhere during your childhood. Off late due to the paucity of time and also because of my laziness I haven’t had the luxury of reading a book for quite some time now. Also I was curious to know what a fellow Loyolite had come up with after burning a lot of midnight oil. I wasn’t disappointed I should say I devoured the whole book of around 400 odd pages within a single day which stretched out well into my Sunday night. As I went through the book I could visualize how painstakingly the author had constructed the plot page by page. How he had interwoven the characters’ lives with the strokes of a master craftsman, ultimately it culminated into a gripping climax. I was greatly impressed by his attention to detail where he explained the nitty gritty of a Hydro Electric Project which formed the back drop of the story. Just imagine the quality of the book if it caught the imagination of a person who hasn’t read many books in the past year or so. The only literature I used to get to read during this time on regular basis was e-mails, power point presentations, excel spreadsheets, reports and the like. Boy it was such a wonderful book that when I retired for the night my mind was buzzing .Thanks to my author friend Shibu I rediscovered the ecstasy that one experiences after reading a brilliantly written book. As a small time writer myself I could very much understand the pains and tribulations that the author might have undergone during the time he was engaged in the painstaking process of writing the book.

autograph

During the course of the event I remember someone asking a question if the author would allow this book to be made into a Bollywood movie owing to the many characters it has. The author gave a tongue in cheek reply saying that he won’t himself make a movie based on his book. He further added that he was not stopping anyone from making a movie to which the crowd broke into an applause. At that time it didn’t make much sense to me as I had not read the book at that point of time .Once I completed reading the book I couldn’t help but notice the depth in which each of the characters of the book had made an imprint in my mind. It never crossed my mind that I was reading the debut novel of an author. Hats off to my new found author friend for coming out with such a masterpiece of a book .I am eagerly looking forward to his next book. I have got to say this, you are a brilliant writer and greatness beckons you in the Indian Literary scene in the days to come. All the very best Shibu Chetta.

Another Monday morning while peering into the laptop reviewing the emails that had piled up during the weekend my mind was fresh and singing a happy tune thanks to “Men and Dreams in the Dhauladhar”

 

 

a question to the author

about our alma mater

 

Memories #2 A tribute to my Father

I pen these lines on the eve of the 20th Death Anniversary of My Dad Percival Bruno D'Cruz

I never knew Indian Police Service(IPS) was such a big deal when I was a kid and lived in Gwalior ,Madhya Pradesh. But later in life when I slogged it out for the UPSC Civil services exam I understood what a great thing it was. He had cracked the exam when he was 21 years of age and here I was with the best coaching in the country and a few years older didn't get to crack it. It speaks volumes of his character.

I remember him to be a strict disciplinarian and a total no nonsense guy. He would never take no for an answer from me. He was very particular that I needed to speak English well. I always used to converse with him in English never do i remember talking to him in Malayalam or Hindi. He inculcated in me a very strong value system. I came across one of the letters my Dad sent to my Mom when she was in Kerala. It goes something like this "Angelo the other day told me that he was having the General Science exam as oral but it later turned out to be a written exam when I inquired about it with his teacher I was told that it was never been oral. Angelo had lied to me because he did not want me to make him write. I gave him nice beating and made him kneel in front of the Sacred heart and made him say 10 Hail Mary. He later cried and said he wanted to go to Mamma ". That was how he taught me about honesty just imagine I was only a boy of 6 years then. Just tell me how many parents would do that today at least I wouldn't do it. It was such a novel way of teaching a kid on the importance of being honest.

I have heard from his peers in service from that he was an honest and upright Officer. Everyone who knew him has maintained that he was an exceptionally bright person and was very well read. I have heard from uncle Berky(my Dad's younger brother) that he used to read even the newspaper in which the sugar was wrapped. He always used to encourage me to read even as a kid and I owe my reading habit to him. He was also a very God fearing man.


I had the opportunity of reading his College journal and it gave me an insight into the person he was during his late teens.As a young boy in college he had the same apprehensions that any boy of his age had. He always had the hunger to suceed inspite of all odds and excel in life. What impressed me most was that he was equally good in both curricular as well as co curricular activities.The stack of certificates and a good number of trophies at home bear testimony to this. The other day my younger brother was telling me that he was thinking of quitting the college football team so that he can concentrate more on his studies I wonder what my Dad's take would be on that .He was an excellent orator and Ambrose takes off from my Dad on this regard



I remember reading a letter my Grandmother Mrs Lilly D'Cruz sent to my Dad when he was undergoing training in Sardar Vallabhai Patel National Police Academy,Hyderabad. She adresses him as my Dear Police Son and goes on with all the news at Tangassery. And I can't fail to notice how much  pride the mother takes on what her son has become that is something unmatched. It might be close to what my mother was feeling at the book launch of her younger son. I don't know. I recall Uncle Berty(my dad's younger brother) telling me how humble and down to earth their parents were. This humility is something that I have seen in my father as well.I remember with gratitude my Grandparents  Ambrose J DCruz and Lily D'Cruz here.I also would like to state that he was a family man and a God fearing individual.


During my adult life I have always wanted to hear the view point of my Dad on the everyday challenges  of  life, I really miss the man to man talk.  When you are a kid you don't realize what a big loss it is for you. It was the same with me I missed my Dad the most during my teenage years but hats off to my Mom and everyone who helped me through those tricky years.



I would sign off by commending my mother Adil D'Cruz who has done an excellent job in raising her two sons with great fortitude despite losing her husband at a very young age. If it had't been for her we would never be what we are today.


P.S:It was my Mom's idea that I need to write something on my Dad on account of his 20th Anniversary

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