Hello Josephine... how do you do...

The first time that he saw her he knew that she was the one for him, the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. To grow old together and ride into the sunset of life. She was the one for him and he had to make her his, in the romantic way, not the stalkerish sort of way. Call it love at first sight, or a surge of hormones to the brain, or whatever you may call it, he was truly in love with her. To him she was just perfect.

She was a little hesitant. Not well educated, not from the same strata of society that he was. She had her physical flaws. All this made her feel that she never could fit in his world. All this made her feel that she was far from perfect for him. So she didn’t feel they would work.

He had seen her while she took care of her sister’s kids who stayed in his building.  He knew she was shy and wouldn’t easily accept his love. But that didn’t dishearten him. At a casual sing-a-long, he took the guitar and gently strummed, singing “Hello Josephine... how do you do...” and that moment she knew what he felt for her was real and she too felt the same way about him.

A few days later they began seeing each other and in just over a year they were married. It may have not been the fairy tale courtship and marriage but for them it was just perfect. They promised to be with each other through sickness and good health, in good times and bad, till death do them apart. He even jokingly coaxed her to finish the sacramental wine so that the next couple wouldn’t have any. The day was a celebration of their love for each other a lifetime commitment to each other. It may not have been a royal wedding, but for them it was way more than that.

Now life is not all a garden of roses, a fairy tale, you also need to wake up from the dream and start living life. He went back to his job abroad and she lived with his family in their one room hall kitchen. He had to work to support his family, to support her and by and by their family grew. 

He tried to give her the life she needed, the life she deserved. And though distance kept them apart for most of the time, it didn’t weaken the love they felt for each other. And with each passing their love grew and as did their family. From just the two of them, they added three more. And though he missed their birth, their christening, their communion, they always longed for their dad. There were three more kids who insisted on sleeping at night with their mumma and dada when all they wanted was some time to themselves.

They tried to make the most of the time they got to spend with each other. With each different country he worked in, the amount of holidays he could take changed, grew lesser. He returned home for lesser amount of time. She on her path got caught up looking after their children, looking after his family. But whenever he was there for a birthday or any function, he took the guitar and gently strummed, “Hello Josephine, how do you do... do you remember me baby... like I remember you...” and she would smile shyly while he sang this to her, her song.

Now this is no fairy tale and life doesn’t always have an happy ending. In the end, death did eventually tore them apart. He passed away, though not alone, but far away from her, by himself, in a strange foreign land. Seeing what remained him her heart broke into million pieces, the bangles that lay on his mortal remains. She knew she would never ever see alive and breathing next to her again, never ever to utter to utter those words, never ever to sing to her. But she knew that she would always treasure his voice, his song, hi breath, deep in her heart. And if she could just close her eyes, she could feel his presence beside her. She knew that this parting was sweet sorrow, till they would meet in another tomorrow.

She continued to live her life bringing up their kids but always with his memory in her heart. He looked down upon her, her guardian angel, proud to see how she was doing. He longed to be with her, by her side, cause all though his heart was filled with happiness, there was a longing that felt, a longing to be with her, his family, to give all the love she deserved, to by her side. He knew that one day they would would unite and then he would say to her...”Hello Josephine... how do you... do you remember me baby... like I remember you...”

The reluctant Eve

Have you been made privy to information that has no use or importance to you? That you don’t want to hear? Have your ever been that reluctant eve, made to drop in on a conversation that has nothing to do with you, you want nothing to do with. All you want is some peace and quiet, some sanity, and a universal remote to mute out, even filter out, unwanted conversations of these morons.

Sometimes I wonder why you want the world to know that your bitching about your Mother-in-law, husband and all possible in-laws. Can’t you just walk and find a private space to take your call? To top it all you come to office early, so use can use the desk phone to make personal calls and complain in your annoying voice in your native tongues.

Then there are the ones who take their private call at the desks and speak in such a way that the whole bay can hear them. Hey I don’t want to buy the house in Goa that you are trying to sell, or how you can’t get along with your parents, or how your boyfriend ain’t treating you right, or you attending because you want to make a point to that bitch. You’ve got to learn to keep something private, the bay doesn’t need to know, doesn’t want to know about your private melodramas. And I am sure you wouldn’t your private life be made public information.

And then you have those who take their client calls from their desk and insist on speaking with a jarring accent on the top of their voices. I get you want to show the world, or may be just your boss you work, but get a room, I am sure this is much to the annoyance of the poor soul on the other end. Not to forget those who take calls while parading up and down the bay.

There are those who keep their cabin doors open while they have arguments, literally calling for to be made the butt of the rumour mills. You just wished they closed the door to their cabins and have their lover’s tiff behind closed doors. You have been given a cabin make some use of it. And when there’s the important information then they close their cabin door. 

Then you have those who believe that they are the ‘IT’ crowd...  no no not the system admin walas... god forbid if your machine is down, please don’t ever call them, cause bitching and gossiping is all they are good at. They gather together to talk in loud voices (as if the world lives for their gossips), nibbling on the delicacies they bought from their trip to Paris, or Rome, Timbuktu, for all you care, discussing and giggling about their latest exploits of traveling through Europe. Yeah we get it, you guys are the privileged ones but do you have put jale pe namak... but wouldn’t we all love to rub it in the face of the less fortunate ones?

And if that’s not all, you have those who insist on talking loudly in public places, talking in their high pitch, often abrasive, coarse and abusive language, or in a sweet lovey dovey tone, making cooing (or cawing) sounds, depending on who’s on the other line. I actually pity the poor fool on the other end, cause no one would want to be on the receiving end of their tirade. They would have surely gone deaf by then.

Whatever the conversation may be please don’t make me a reluctant participant in it, an eves droppers who doesn’t want to eves drop on your conversation. I so wish they just keep me out of it. And if I am wishing I wished had a mute button or a remote just to control their conversation , or even a room where you could put all these morons together so that they talk, scream, butch, gossip, coo, or whatever absurd shit they do, to their heart’s content.

The Helmet Displacement Paradox

Helmet is a form of protective gear worn to protect the head from injuries. More specifically, the helmet aids the skull to protect the human brain. But with the amount of time that it spends in other places than the head, makes you wonder what exactly is it protecting.

If the helmet is meant to protect your head then what is it doing on your bikes handles and the other places of your bike, or Activa (whatever two-wheeler you may ride). Doesn’t it make you wonder if the bike is more important than your head, or does your bike handle need more protection than your head? After all, sar salamat, pagadi hazar, or in this case bike, Activa hazar.

There are those who don’t like to wear helmet cause it just doesn’t go with their look. It ain’t cool looking like a fool wearing something on their head that would bring down their coolness several notches down. Wearing a helmet doesn’t go with their coolness quotient. How else would they flaunt their hairdo. All the time and cash spent in grooming will go down the drain. But then wouldn’t letting your hair loose also upset your prim-proper look. Think of the blood or money that may go down the drain if you meet with an accident (god forbid), or get caught without wearing a helmet. Wearing an helmet may not make you as cool as Deadpool, but you’ll surely not find yourself dead in a pool of you know what. There’s nothing in wrong in wanting to look cool but at what cost, zindagi say dho bytenga.

They say sometimes your heart travels to your  head (with emphasis on they say), in this case the brains decided to travel in the opposite direction. Maybe that’s the reason you find the helmet at the feet. The other reason could be that since the helmet helps the skull protect the brain, but if there’s no brain present then what does it protect. May be that’s why you find it on or near other parts of the body than your head.

Whatever your reason may be for not wanting to wearing a helmet, just ask yourself what do you hold more important, looking cool or having a head to look cool? If you don’t have a head then what do you ride? Think of helmet like a condom for your head, keeping it safe from unwanted pregnancies, oops I meant injuries.

At the end of the day it’s your choice to make, but remember you aren’t as lucky as a cat to have more than one life, or even Ravan. So chose wisely cause your have just one life to live with just one head.

When I kissed the Teacher

I was having one of those days where nothing seemed to go my way. I just wanted to go and crawl into a ball, and hide away, to wake to what seemed like a bad dream. Just then the bell rang and he walked into the classroom, and I knew that everything would change soon.

I Don’t know why but I began to swoon, lighted and giddy, feeling like a fool. Maybe it was the way the sunlight fell on his or just that I had harboured a major crush on the man with that face. Nothing seemed to reach me when he began to teach. All I could do is sit and stare at that face that visited me a thousand times in my dreams. I didn’t mind that I learned nothing, or I was in class full of students, in that moment it was just him and me, we had an eternal connection.

And when he asked us to solve a problem, all I could do is stare blankly at those words on the page, for words made no sense to me. I just sat there not knowing what to do, feeling like quite the fool.

Suddenly I felt a familiar presence. He stood next to asking me what happened  and offered his guidance. His mere presence, next to me, put it me in trance. His fragrance, his scent, intoxicated my senses, making me high, making me drunk by mere presence. I knew it was now or never, I would never get a chance like this. What happened next was not very clear, my brain fogged, the moment was a blur. As he bended over to explain, I leant forward and just kissed him, in plain sight.

In that moment, the whole class went quiet. You could hear a pin drop if a pin have dropped that very moment. The class were stunned, they did not know  what to do, they had never seen the teacher blush, he looked quite the fool. I just sat there with bathed breath, not sure how react. I just held my breath waiting for him to react. My world just came to a still, I reprimanded myself for acting like a crazy fool.

Low and behold he finally did smile, bringing a sense of relief, I let out a sigh. My friends cheered and the whole screamed. They seem to be rooting for me cause I managed to pull a fast one and realised what I had just done. I felt like I was on seventh heaven, it all felt like a dream. I knew I needed to tell how I did feel, and tell him that he had been in dreams.

Then suddenly I felt a whack at the back of my head, bringing me back to my sense, making realise it was only just dream. My class laughed and teased as I stood looking quite dumb, as teacher scolded me for day dreaming like a sill bum. But all this didn’t matter to me, cause I had kissed teacher, even if it was just in my dreams.

The Yogic Confusion

They had been friend as far as they could remember. People even believed that were friends even in their mothers’ womb. Totally inseparable, they went to the same nursery, attended the same school and even chose to go to the same college. They did everything together, the played on the college football team. They knew each other’s likes and dislikes.  In short, they were very similar to each other and it was that formed the basis of their friendship. The only thing that distinguished them from each other was that one was straight while the other gay. 

They both were aware of this and accepted each other the way they were, supportive of each other. Very often they acted as each other’s wingman when trying to score a date. Their preferences didn’t bother them or even affected their friendship, they were the most comfortable in each other’s company. In fact, very often they were mistaken for a couple. They didn’t take offence about this, they just laughed it off. 

“Guess what!” He said with a big grin, as he approached his friend who was waiting for him in the parking lot. “What did you do now,” his friend said sounding annoyed with the guessing game, which he hated. “Well I’ve signed us for free yoga session,” he said gleefully. “Yoga! When did you start liking yoga?” His friend said sounding surprised by his response. “Well when it is taught a beautiful instructor, yoga can perk anyone’s attention,” he said, “and I thought yoga was something you gay men love doing”. “How stereotypical of you to assume what gay men like,” his friend replied hottily, “ I find that pretty offensive and insensitive.” “Ok, ok I apologise, you know I didn’t mean it that way!” He said in a sincere, apologetic tone, “ But please could you play along, you know I could use your expertise.” “That’s alright, I was just pulling your leg” his friend chuckled, “so that was what you were up to while I waited for here in the parking lot, flirting with the lady near counter.” He just smiled sheepishly and wrestled his friend, before they got into the car.

She stood at the window eagerly waiting for the guy who had signed up for her free yoga session. “Has this short supposed to be so loose and short,” he said joining her at the window, “I feel so exposed”, he complained. “Yes dear they are supposed to be that way, it’s yoga after all,” she said  giving him a quick peck on his cheek. “Please could you do this for me, just once,” she said batting her eyelids, giving the longing look when she wanted to get her way. “Well just this once,” he sighed, “How could anyone say no to that face,” he said planting a quick kiss.” “I knew you would come around,” she said teasingly, “there they are, don’t they make a cute couple, just like us,” she said snuggling next to him, “let’s go down and welcome  them.”

“That’s the address that she gave me,” he said looking at the pamphlet that he had in his hand. “There she is,” he exclaimed, pointing in her direction, “she looks even more hotter and beautiful than she did yesterday.” “Who’s the guy with her?” His friend asked him, “he’s cute.” “I am not sure,” he shrugged, “maybe another student or her assistant. See there’s something for you too.” “Well yoga suddenly got all the more interesting,” his friend said with a broad smile on his face.

“Namaste! I am so happy to see the two of you,” she said welcoming them into their home. They made their up a flight of stairs that lead to the living room which was converted into a yoga studio.

“You can keep you bags and footwear there and take those mats,” she said pointing to the rack that was kept in the corner, and to the mats that were kept next to it. They each took a mat and placed it in front of them.

“Let’s start with some basic position, “ she said, “before we move on to some little advance poses that would help you loosen up your muscles. But don’t worry they won’t be too complex,” she said with a smile, trying to reassure them. “I will do the poses first and then will guide you to do it, till you are able to do it with me,” she instructed them. 

“Let’s start with a simple mountain pose,” she told them, demonstrating the pose to them, followed by guiding them to do the pose. “Next we will do the tree pose,” she said, once again demonstrating the pose and then guiding them to perform the pose. “That’s a perfect tree,” she said with a big smile.

“Now let’s try the downward dog,” she said demonstrating the pose. “Raise your hips, the feet need to be firmly planted on the floor. Here let me help you,” she said as she helped him raise his hips, much to his delight. “Here let me help you,” his friend said, offering to help her partner, and for that moment there was meeting of rear with the front, making it a bit awkward. But as they performed few more  poses that required partnering they lost their awkwardness and grew more comfortable with each other. “Let’s hold the pose for 5-4-3-2-1, and relax,” she said, “let’s take a quick break before we continue for the rest of the season.”

“She surely digs me,” he said to his friend, “see how she praises me and takes every moment to support me.” “Oh really,” his friend said feigning fake surprise, “yeah right, tell me something new. You feel that way about every girl who shows you some attention.” “No, no, this is different,” he said trying to defend himself, “This is different. I can tell she likes me. I am going to ask her out at the end of this session.” “Like you always do,” his friend said laughing. “What are you laughing at,” he said sounding irritated, “you seem to making most of the season you didn’t want to come for.” “That’s true,” his friend said while smiling shyly, “I have been giving him so many signals that I like him, I really do hope he reads it. Who knew something good could actually come from accompanying you on one of your silly shenanigans.”

“So how do you like the session,” she asked as he came towards her sipping his water. “I must say I am rather enjoying the session,” he said with a smile, as he put his hand around her waist and pulled her closer to him, knowing the other two were busy chatting without paying any attention to them. “See I told you you would enjoy it,” she said putting her arms around his neck and giving him a quick kiss. “Well it was a bit awkward at first,” he confessed,”But tell me something, is it normal for someone to be, say, aroused, while say, doing yoga,” he said hesitatingly. “Why do you ask that?” She inquired. “Nothing, just something that I felt,” he said uncertainly. “Well then don’t loose that feeling cause there will something special for you after the session,” she said teasingly as she went back to the room.

“Well hope you are refreshed and ready go,” she said enthusiastically, “we are going to do some bit complex poses, so hope you are ready for it.” And with that she began once again. For next thirty minutes they performed various poses, till their limbs felt loose as rubber bands. They were able to bend in ways that they never knew possible.

“.. take a deep breath and relax. That’s it for the day,” she said in a cheerful sing-sing tone. “There’s some yoga bar and water on the table, so please do help yourself,” she said with a big smile. “I hope you enjoyed session,” she said to him while trying to rid her shoulders of the soreness it felt. “Here let me help you with that,” he volunteered and gently began to massage her shoulder. “That feels good, thank you,” she said feeling grateful to rid herself of the soreness. “Just something I have learned playing football,” he said with a big grin on his face while his friend gave him the eye roll.

“Hey thanks for the help,” he partner said as he joined his friend, “you sure do know your stuff,” he said giving him a big smile. “Well I have done a bit before, and that kind of helped,” his friend said, trying to feign modesty. “I must admit, I was bit hesitant at first, and it felt a bit awakened, but I really had a good workout of sorts,” he admitted. “Me too,” his friend said, realising that he had found his window to ask him out. “The things that we do to keep our better halves happy,” he said as he wiped the sweat off his face.

It took him a while but it finally struck him what those last few words meant. He finally noticed the ring on the finger that seemed to have magically appeared, or he had been too distracted to even notice it. He quickly excused himself and rushed to his friend, before he did anything foolish.

He disrupted his conversation, flirting would have been the more appropriate term here, with her, and pulled him to a side, much to his annoyance. He whispered his discovery in his friend’s ears. They quickly thanked her for the wonderful session, promising that they would be back for classes. They said their farewell and quickly made their way out of the place.

An hour later, when they were back to their room again, sipping a nice cold beer, they burst in to the laughter thinking of the predicament they would have been if thy had not discovered in time. They had  dodged a bullet knowing that they would have made a joke of themselves with this confusion.

The Labour Day Pondering

Come the month of May and you usher the beginning of the month with the celebration of international labour day, kamgar divas, or whatever you may call it in your part of the world. But how much change has occurred in all these years, in terms of benefits to the working class... well you could argue and debate on this... but the truth be told, we laboured then and we continue to labour even today, it’s like going through contractions without delivering the baby.

Hundred of years back labourers stuck work and took out demonstrations for fair wage and humane working hours. In today’s world I wonder how fair are our wages or humane are our working hours. This holds true whether you are a white-collared, blue-collared or no collared labourer.

An eight hours work day is something which we can only dream of. So forget about working for eight hours, many organisations (read managers) expect you to work for a minimum nine to ten hours, often penalising you for not completing the required hours, but again this all depends on your manager. Considering we work for a global market, very often you find yourself working well beyond twelves hours, often bending over backward. Sometime with all these stretching and bending over I wonder if I would become a rubber band, elastic man, with superpowers to stretch beyond humanly possible, or would I become adept at belly dancing with all the bending over backwards.

The benefits are enjoyed by a privileged few. The upper echelons, the favourites, their minions. These are the ones who get to lick off the cream of the benefits, promotions, benefits, paid vacations. Very few deserving people actually get what they deserve. With so many chamchas and butt-kissers that it’s no surprise that there’s nothing much left for the rest. Sometimes i wonder if we could use these chamchas in the cafeteria when they fall short of spoons, or do the butt-kisser love to rim, the sexual act of stimulating pleasure by kissing, licking, the anus of the partner.

Appraisals and promotions are subjective, subject to the company’s performance, the company’s deemed performance, or your equation in the company. And if they are objective, they are pain to gather all the data and present them. Very often you are left trying to figure out where exactly is the raise, a great mystery, thank to the bell curve. And then you are awarded a zero percent raise for all your hard work and labour, thus clubbing you with non-performing resources, much to your charging, much to the selfish glee of your not so well wisher.

Well no matter how much we may rave and rant and bitch, to each other and on social media, nothing much will ever change, cause nothing really matters to such organisations. Like a duck’s back all this will just roll off them. And even if try to do something, it would be just for show. If one ain’t smart there are always chance of them being taken advantage of. 

In the end nothing has truly changed. We laboured then and we continue to labour even now, just we are now a more sophisticated labourers.