August Augury

This was some action month. 

I spent a week in Delhi which is a major miracle and a lot of IMT camaraderie. It’s been an interesting month but for starters let me get the negative thing off my back.

Defamation: On 10^th August I get a crank call from a mad man in Ahmedabad saying, “You are a pervert and you have gone back to your defamation ways. I will put you in jail for this.” I shouted him down, “Yes, I am a pervert in words while your client was a pervert in behaviour.”

            Now this is old story, I have not an ounce of emotion in that garbage quagmire. My life essentially has been a victim of four women and in my blogs of over 1000 posts this strand appears now and then. On pUsHpa I genuinely thought she had changed her surname and in my posts it was only the maiden name. I did post a google talk which I am not entirely certain whether it is libelous in character or not. But someone’s photographs or mails are not exactly one’s private property; of course I am sure these can be put up on a blog medium. I have no time or energy to check that out with an expert lawyer’s view; but once I do then I will do everything under the law to write my posts as I deem fit. If anyone has a case for defamation, please bring it on.

            Since my focus these days is jobs and earnings, I removed couple of blog posts on the advice of one of my UNICEF friends. Mr. X (let the name be anonymous) is one of the UNICEF heads in the South and a very good friend and he advised, “Remove this lot for it does no one any good. But if there is a case filed against you, I will help you with lawyers or talk to her bosses in Gujarat.” One good thing that came of this unsavoury was I looked at her profile and she looks my aunty for a great insight: women age rapidly while nature goes easier on men. That’s why in the older days WIVES were a good 10 years younger. pw is a piece of shit and no amount of French perfumes can douse the foul odour.

This did leave a bad taste in the mouth for a couple of days before the strains of living got my attention elsewhere. But rest assured this female has it coming once I set my house in order and once I get a lawyer clearance.

Ex-PW club: I posted this story in writersathya and the very next day an assistant director of Bahubali wrote to me saying, “I would like to meet you in Pondicherry.” This time I took his mobile number, spoke to him before taking a trip on 12/8. Some lesson I learnt from the Dubai fraud. As fortune would have it, again let me call him Mr. Y, smsed saying, “My financier’s father just passed away and we are rushing for condolence. So kindly postpone your trip. But let me assure that I am still interested in the story.”  I got this message midway through my bus journey; I continued for a day out at Pondi for a break from solitude and meditated in the Mother’s Ashram.  And I came back home refreshed and exhausted.

            Yesterday I spoke to a Bollywood producer who happened to be my 1992 batch mate. She said, “Not my scene but I will see if I can put you on to those in this genre.”

IMT cares: After a dozen of my alumni read these posts and one 1992 classmate who wishes anonymity called on 31/7 saying, “Sathya, I have a spare apartment in Delhi and you can use it for as long as six months. Chennai is a graveyard market, come to Delhi and explore this market.” Such an appeal was hard to ignore considering this friend has done spectacularly well on the career front since our passing out in 1992.

            I booked a ticket in Air Vistara on 15/8 and it is the first time I am flying after the Abu Dhabi fiasco in 2014.  My friend was extremely hospitable who trusted me with the keys to a swanky apartment that comes with a swimming pool. This is affluence on a scale where a Aamir Khan or Salman Khan would reside.

            I was there for a week and realized one thing: there is no fun staying on another’s hospitality however large-hearted and sincere well-wishers. I also stumped on this insight: There are no jobs @ 49. No company in the face of earth would hire for my resume. I can only get a job based on my talent which must be experienced in freelance assignments.  Once this thing penetrated the skull, I booked my return journey much to my host’s surprise.

            I met the Kalyani family at Lajpatnagar and made friends with Manisha and both her brothers. Prashant’s daughter who was 6 months old during my last visit in 2008 is now old enough and smart enough to read my blog posts.  I found that girl super smart. They gave me a wonderful dinner and Santosh dropped me at the railway station for the third time in as many visits – in 2006, he dropped me at the station, 2008 at the airport when we were stuck in a traffic jam and I just made it when the counter was closing and now in 2018. I value my relation with this family. I loved my travel on Delhi metro and was zapped by the yellow line, magneta line and blue line and all that. Truly an international city in terms of infrastructure; I also found them friendly. Maybe it was my pronounced limp or grey hairs, Delhities offered me a seat even in crowded trains much to my discomfiture. But I loved the respect at least my age was fetching me.

            On the last day, 22^nd Aug, Lalit of IMT 1992 batch called me from Indonesia, “Sathya, one week is too short a stay. Try for couple of more weeks before you return to base.” Then Neetu, another alumnus called, “Hey, Sathya so nice catching up after 25 years. How about staying for Kochie’s 50^th birthday celebrations when the whole batch will congregate and it will be nice to catch up.” I spoke to Anurag at Mumbai and he promised to help me in his firm. I always find an intrinsic decency and nobility interacting with Anurag and Darbari. Shabd wrote from Los Angeles, “Sathya, don’t lose heart for God does not forsake anyone. Having faith and trust makes the journey easier,” for a message I am not going to forget in a while.

            Lakhina hosted a lunch at the Galleria and he was friendly and concerned and what I can say about Smita who heard all my life tales with sympathy: abusive parents, apathetic siblings, whore for a date and how my life has been laid low from factors beyond my control. I said, “All I heard from this pussy was her daily menopause and hormonal changes for a year.” She said, “That woman got it wrong for no woman can hope to find a more romantic and committed man like you. I clearly see her mistake of committing in early and then backtracking. But Sathya, don’t worry. Your best days are just round the corner.”

            Seeing such warmth from friends who have I not seen or interacted since 1992 felt overwhelming. Certainly North India cares and I loved Delhi for such generosity and friendliness. I gifted DARLING INDIA to Lakhina and Smita; I also read that on the train in decades and I loved it. I normally don’t read what I write but once in a blue moon they really fill the heart with abundance.

            I am more or less firm on selling the apartment unless JustDial or NIIT were to click. I am a bit sceptical here. Mani Sir advised me from Doha, “Sathya, you have a big terrace at Besant Nagar and why not do roof top gardening. It will fill up time most admirably and you also stand to generate a good income. I know of a person in Coimbatore and I will put you on him when I am back to Chennai.”

            August was that kind of a month. I got a lot of affection from Iyer mama and Shyam in Bangalore and so many people. I live a life of a recluse hermit but I love these human connections. I also learnt that I am blessed with a lot of caring friends who will haul me up even as I drown in the abyss of an ocean floor. They are lots of good people in the world was the realization for a hard-boiled cynic in me. This was verily a good month for some life-long memories and worth cherishing.