Movie climax suspense

#102

My unemployment shows no sign of abating.  Mindlogics at Bangalore in May felt tantalizing close. SRMC on 28/6 felt like death as they made me wait for 5 hours for the interview and upon seeing my resume said, “We are looking for someone from Elsevier for medical writing.”

            The entire June was spent in DUBAI MOONLIGHTING. Uma of Horizon arranged interviews at Al Futtaim and Bab Al Shams in the first week. I was supposed to fly in, meet these folks and hoping one of these two clicks. Then came the EID holidays before Al Futtaim made an offer: 10,000 AED and office accommodation for a three months’ work permit.

            Given the penurious circumstances of the last 12 months – my last drawn pay was 20 k at Abhiyan and that came to an end in July kinds – I felt reasonably satisfied. This is the exactly ADLINE terms and my heart wished and prayed for a 15 K AED and accommodation. Both Shyam and Mani Sir advised me not to negotiate, instead agree straightaway.

            I paid the 500 AED fees for the work permit and then came the news of a UAE ban which can be revoked by Adline or Al Futtaim or by myself by going through a court process. So another Rs. 60,000 goes into this and I have reached the very bottom end of my savings. If Dubai does not fructify then I HAVE TO SELL this place by July end and that is the extent of my bankruptcy. The five lac loan in December was perfect but I hardly earned a thing after except for Smita’s 52 k.

            I heard the news of this ban on 27/6 the twentieth anniversary of my heart surgery. I immediately unwrapped the Subha Drishti Ganapathy that Ramji had presented and offered prayers.  Then on 28/6 when I was at SRMC this news of court procedures was told to me and I paid up 60 k after prematurely closing the 1 lac FD.  This now looks a movie climax and could go either way. Uma Gayathri has been a real blessing as she goes out of the way to bail me out. I am reduced to chanting Om Shrim Hrim Klim Glaum Gao….

            I read Deepak Mehra’s Ready, Steady, Go and it is a gold mine. I realized that pUsHpA said the same thing in a succinct form.  I have been guilty of violating so many office norms at Adline that should avoid anywhere:

a)     First no personal work during office hours

b)     No to music and social media during the 9 to 5

c)      The boss is always right. Never give a negative feedback even when asked

d)     No arguments, no debates in the office space

e)     Don’t gossip about others; nor rush to fill your personal stories to others (I don’t need to explain why I am a bachelor to others even when coerced to answer. Definitely don’t go to town on the BIG BAD FOUR)

f)       Always dress to work; a big NO to sneakers

g)     Close Damienbosses and Dauntlesssathya immediately

h)     An office is no place for emotions

i)       Don’t judge instead serve unconditionally

j)       Always SMILE and show COURTESIS with greetings.

k)     Never speak excitedly on any topic at work

l)       Respect colleagues even if they are barbaric from the Stone ages.

m)   Be careful of what you put on Facebook and blogs

I start the day with LAUGHTER YOGA at the beach; thanks to Chitra and company. There is a   VP Singh who brings a lot of boisterous laughter and Chitra observes, “You laughter is artificial.”

      I am still prone to a lot of nightmares. That sense of insecurity and extreme vulnerability shows itself at slumber time. Then there is this DOG NUISANCE and now this fool of a Kalpagam must have fed something on the first floor. Now the dog feels emboldened to sleep just outside my door; a promotion from the staircase.  This dog is very determined and keeps coming back despite throwing mug fulls of water many times a day. For tenacity this dog offers a perfect lesson; like that Bangladeshi peon serving coffee at Adline on pleasing.

      Satish the actor served another lesson couple of days back, “You fool, you don’t have to go about town telling your sob stories. If your mother killed your father; then my mother eloped with a cousin ten years younger upon my dad’s death in an accident. The entire society would call us BASTARDS. Even the captain’s girlfriend ditched him during the college days and he has had three bypass surgeries after that.”  Another friendly face is Bharat who graciously gave a fake employee letter for VISA purposes; Gopalan is another friendly face.

      When I heard the UAE ban I mentally wrote this thing off. I burnt a couple of smokes and booked for Dhamma Seva at Kolhapur centre and even booked the tickets. Only the next day, Uma came with this procedure of revoking it myself.

      I do speak to Viji and predictably does not give any peace or comfort even through words. When I told her that I must buy Uma a gift if this ban is revoked and I get to catch the flight, Viji said, “Show it through your hard work.” I instantly retorted, “First you don’t seem to understand from reality even if the events are played right before your eyes. You live your life from an obsolete book that neither serves you or others.” She also has this irritating habit of SHUTTING OUT OTHER”S MOUTH when she spots the thinnest criticism in the air. Even Latha has this affliction and it gets impossible to converse with such hyper-sensitive and closed minds. Though Viji speaks like Vashishta, a trait inherited from Paati and Athai, she is just as much a fool as Amma and Latha.  This is a tribal and non-serving and negative conditioning of the mind where she sees everything as We versus THEM and that she is the sole protector of her interests kinds. Silly.

      As for me, my fate will be known today and tomorrow kinds.  I give it a 95% odds on favourite but then I got MINDLOGICS wrong too.  Mani Sir has been the most reliable of friends in these times; I also get a lot of solace talking to Shyam and Ramesh.

The ex-PW club

#101st POST:

I wrote this story almost a decade back. This is one of the 30 stories I wrote that felt intuitively a movie script. I tried marketing it on Twitter by writing to Tamil and Hindi movie production houses but nothing transpired. I showed it a half a dozen friends and they also felt: This looks a movie script.

           “The ex-PW club” is a story of a model who is a born survivor and reaches the pinnacle of glamour world through grit and smart networking. I based this story from pUsHpA my sole date in life so far – this model Pushpa (the fictional one) had four lovers and this I conjured from my own Sindhi tryst. Bits and pieces of her past lovers and oodles of imagination and this story felt tailored to a cine screen. But I never had the energy to chase any director or production houses. Last month I sent this tale to my IMT friends on Facebook:  Smita, Anu, Deepak, Ashish, Lakina and Darbari.

            Smita is turning out to be a great friend. Now back in London she called and she got my life tale out of me. I spoke to her twice in the last fortnight and these felt more affectionate than I ever had with my own two sisters. She knows how to connect, something we all saw even at IMT, Ghaziabad during the 1990-92 days.

            Darbari is in Los Angeles and he writes: Sathya, this is a professional work and I am sure you will hit the headlines big in a while. But the best value I got was from Deepak  who is  a banker in Dubai.

Dear Sathya,

Loved reading the story. It is fast, racy and gripping. Four episodes of Pushpa’s life.

Frankly, both the climaxes do not do justice to this lively and entertaining narration. I would possibly take a cue from what you have mentioned in the last line; about the doctor. Maybe, the climax can be about a secret that Yadeesh is hiding from his wife all this time – about his affair with Pushpa. But even this fifth episode of Pushpa’s life would not be unexpected. Climax should have a twist in the tale – somehow!!

Best regards,

Deepak Mehra

One thing led to the other as I explained that the third character in the story, “Surya” was me and Deepak wrote a great mail which I immediately saved it in a special folder so as to preserve it. 

Dear Sathya,

Let us be clear, you want a wife not a high-maintenance girlfriend. Please define this as your goal.

I just hope you get a simple, homely Tamil girl who is culturally and socially compatible with you, who will look after you, make your home, raise your children and be a good wife. She will look up to you and respect you for your wisdom and kind heart. You will never have to prove yourself in front of her, you will not have to bother about how you look, what you wear or what you do. You will not be smitten by her beauty at first but over time you will fall in love with her beautiful heart.

If I were in Chennai I would have gone asking all elders in my social circle and would have found a wife like this for you. There will be so many good girls like this in Chennai.

As your friend, who feels that you deserve the best in life, I have to say that the core issue is that if you don’t know what you are looking for, you are unlikely to find.

Happy to hear your views on this.

Best regards,

Deepak Mehra

I replied and it came almost as a flow:

Deepakji, you are truly great.

Yeah, I never articulated with that much clarity on a woman. 

LOVE is so difficult to predict. In my life, I felt drawn and attracted to many but anything with a staying power were only KIRTI, who was my classmate during graduation (for one of the hottest infatuation known to man!!! I did not even introduce myself to her though we were only 8-9 students in the class). Then Madhulika Vajpayee when I was 34 and Pushpa when I was 38. Both M and P were women I was drawn into by their writing. In fact with Pushpa, we were exchanging "I love you's" even without a photograph being exchanged (just reading and talking on the phones led us to that point).

I still remember praying at a Besant Nagar temple, “God, let Pushpa be beautiful,” on the day when our photos were exchanged." 

I really think every man and every woman is LOOKING for UNDERSTANDING in a relation. Words that bind and soothe. Seriously caste and language are secondary. 

Pushpa was very brave to LOVE me and then almost put a seal as it were. Look, I was 38; just starting at TOI, my salary was 50 k while she was twice that. Mine was very, very short careers (I would average less than 5 months of work each year) while she was climbing up the ranks. She had built a house, owned cars and a manager for over a decade. But where she failed was SHE INSISTED ON THAT BARE MINIMUM of a TOI job. Once that went off, it made no difference to me for I was OBSESSED WITH WRITING and never to a job. So my inference of her was: Brave enough to explore a romance with a writer, chickened out at the last minute.She failed as a LOVER in 2008, failed as a FRIEND in 2009 and failed as a HUMAN BEING ever since. 

I loved your definition of a wife; companion with a great heart where love grows by the day. I also loved the part of not bothering about how much I make as earnings or what dress I wear. This is really amazing even for a concept. Certainly, there is no need for a high maintenance girlfriend (I loved this part). 

You are right. How would I imagine a future wife for me? YOUR DESCRIPTION IS BEAUTIFUL and if there is one editing I would do, I would remove the word TAMIL from that. You want a UNDERSTANDING person and she can be from anywhere even if her past were like Vivian in PRETTY WOMAN. 

I also learnt so many things from Pushpa's encounter: WE LOVE A WOMAN ONLY AS LONG AS SHE LOVES US. Once that love is removed then the entire edifice falls down. My mistake in this relation was:

- I should have WALKED OUT the moment she refused to learn a smattering of Tamil and show any interest in my cuisine

- I should have walked out every time she kept postponing the wedding.

- Certainly I should have walked out when she converted a love and romance thing to a friendship.

Next time I will never give such a long rope to a woman if I am caught in the vortex of romance. 

We are just tennis balls to be played by gods in areas like a lover or a spouse, one's job and earnings and also one's children. These are things which no one can fix; they are given to you by nature. 

Love between a man and a woman is the grandest emotion on earth. It even beats the mother and child relation. And if anyone were to trivialize this emotion, then the society gets corrupted. This was also Pushpa's error. My most charitable explanation is that she lost that innocence after her first break up. 

I certainly would like to love a woman if only to erase this scar. It is also important to die in the arms or company of a loved one. Being alone or living alone is really not the way nature intended of a man or a woman. I think romance or marriage is about one long conversation where you would love to talk and love to listen. This is just one parameter that I will abide by when I fall again. 

Deepak, thank you so much for your friendship. No one ever said, "Sathya, I will search a woman for you so far." I will try my best to meet you next week in Dubai. I get the dates tomorrow and then the process of Visa and tickets start straightaway. I would love that interview to click. But in my heart, I feel no sense of anticipation or excitement. I really was thrilled on the Bangalore thing; it almost was a sealed thing. That job was managerial in terms of supervising others; that rejection did hurt me a while. 

As I keep saying: Career and earnings as also love and romance is God's territory and largess. I love this definition: any person who gives you understanding and unconditional love is GOD and anywhere you find them is HEAVEN. So a good marriage is like meeting one's god and one's home can be heaven. Every being looks for God to love and a heaven to reside. 

Regards
Sathya

A turn of the tide???

As a writer one is a sucker for idioms.  But this week seems special, feels special, and maybe ends up with lasting gains. At times like these, it feels like all the cards are falling in place and prayfully someone else does not put down the RUMMY.

            But then there is this old age maturity that values prudence over sudden bursts of good fortune accruing to long standing gains. Don’t count the chickens before they are hatched is a call for patience; which is more in tune to anyone approaching 50 on the scale and who has had my kind of turbulent life.

            Let me address the dead past for there is a belief that once you CORRECT the past the future automatically is course corrected. My mother PARVATHI is 78 with one foot on the grave. She did as much damage as an asura can do in life. I have a natural forgiving nature and “wipe the slate clean” mentality. I still feel helpless that I cannot do a thing to drill any sense into this woman. But I have learnt this lesson: Forgive her but don’t transact. In fact I don’t even look at her face while speaking; avoid as much as possible.

            pUsHpa is exactly similar. Even to store the images of the PAST in a better light is not possible; she is too egoistic and high-handed.  Here again my attitude is IF MY MOTHER and this SINDHI are trapped in a burning house and none to rescue, they will roast to death and I will not lift a little finger. Of all the worst things DESTINY has in store for me in this life and beyond, I feel an enormous relief that I have gone past these two stodgy irascible characters. There were the scums of humanity, the very pits, and so any other character coming into my life will be more a cakewalk than a trial by fire. These two are bank accounts that's closed; no point either depositing or withdrawing from non-existent obsolete account.  

            On 23^rd May, I learnt that the interview at MINDLOGICX came a cropper. This

felt a hard smack on the head. This was my first interview in four years; they ran the entire sequence from shortlisting, telephonic interview to a personal interview at Bangalore where I met the VP and Managing Director. I felt the bird was in the bag and so this came as a bit of a shock.

            Then on 24^th May things started to change. It is one of my special days in a long long long time.

            At 7:30 am Smita Narayan from my IMT days of 1990-92 called on my landline. She said, “I like your writing. I want you to edit my book. So as a hiring fee, I am transferring 50 k today.” She fixed a price far too high and paid the money – something I have not seen in the last 12 years since I turned a professional writer. This brought a lot of colour to the face, energy to the heart, felt that the universe had not entirely abandoned me. Smita also added, “There is a demand for good writers. I will speak to my celebrity friends and also ex-IMT people and see how best I can help you.”

            At 11;00 on the same day Arunanjali called; again a IMT alumnus. We passed out in 1992 and almost every one of them is a VP is a MNC bank or a Airtel or a Samsung while I never got started as a marketing fellow. I followed my heart and passion settling for a penurious peddler of words in a graveyard Chennai of a market. No cribs as long as I earned enough to bring food to the table; my aspirations never rose higher than this since my birth in 1969.

            Anu spoke from Hong Kong and she was like, “Smita was talking about you. I run a soft skill company both in Chennai and HK and maybe we can involve you. Meet my person there and we will take it from there.”

            I felt in seventh heaven. Two of my batchmate from the remotest past of 1992 called me up and said, “We have some faith in you and we will help you tide over in your hunt for a gainful occupation and earning part bit.” There is something readily resonating part in us when people from past come into the present bearing fruits and you are in need of them with the urgency of a next meal. As my Dhamma friend Mani Sir said the next day, “This is last ball six in a IPL match to win.”

            These two calls got me gloating and thinking: maybe I am not all that bad. There are unknown virtues and skills within me when I ran into TV Ramprasad the famous singer at Vishranti over a tiffin. He was the one who sent me to Abu Dhabi; and I avoided his face for a good couple years after the rough weather I experienced there from a devil called Mohan Natesan. TVR said, “Sathya, I am on the look-out for a soft skill trainer at Mahindra School. Would you be interested? Say 3 days a week and how about 25k?” I said, “I have not earned such monies in a couple of years and so will be glad. Thanks man, this news helps me save my M-90 for 2018.”

            Three good news in one single day is not something I have had since my father and mother copulated in the dinghy rooms at TSV koil Street in Mylapore in 1968. More was to come the next day. Paarvathy Rajiv is one of those FB friends and she seemed to have read my last post: the answer is SURRENDER. She wrote to me: my sister is in Dubai and is a recruiter. If you are interested in a career in Dubai, kindly register with her and she will find a job for you within a month. There is a small registration fee; but what the hell if it gives you some confidence and hope. I jumped at the offer and started daydreaming shaking hands with the Arabs after that conversation.

            The point of this post is this: it takes very little for darkness to go away. You could be trapped in a dungeon for a decade but it takes a little flame to light and awash your mind with light and hope.

            As a prudent man, everything can be washed away in a second. Smita may cancel her order in which case I have to return the money; nothing may transpire from Anu’s soft skill training, Ramprasad may not make a formal offer on the Mahindra School, and the Dubai thing may fizzle out. But for the moment, I dance with joy. I get to meet people who care for me and wish me to succeed. Maybe some prayers will come true; just maybe even my stubborn fate may see a resurrection.

The answer is SURRENDER

The Whitefield job interview tanked. They wrote to say: we appreciate and have regard for your skills and accomplishments but you are not selected.  To be honest, starting a new life in Bangalore is difficult and I even feel that a UAE now would be a strain on both body and mind; I am used to Besant nagar and I must find 50 k monthly income soonest or dispose off this flat. There are no heartbreaks.  I did my best and if this is my destiny, why should I resist it or make a song and dance of misfortune? On a lighter side after the Whitefield abortion, at least I got "Soulful encounters @ Bangalore" blog post for my expenses of money and efforts. 

            There are two lessons that is CRYSTAL to me: Love and respect yourself without a shadow of doubt. Two, Surrender to the flow of events. As I age I feel I have no right to even plan, let me do what I ought to do and bring in my best beyond which there is nothing to add or subtract.

            2018 is the year of anniversaries:

a)     10 years of Vipassana

b)     20 years of heart surgery as on 27^th June. Seriously I never thought my engine would run so long given a million unresolved issues in life. Handling loneliness, joblessness after a heart surgery, I think I am SUPERMAN to endure.

c)      20 years of Swamiji’s classes and Theosophical Society. Now I visit TS once in 6 months and less than four classes in a year at Swamiji’s classes. But for a time they were my main source of electricity to life.

I also realize one thing CRYSTAL CLEAR: I am hero or villain of my life. Since I reside alone this is as recluse as it can get in nature. So any SUCCESS or FAILURE is 100% my own creation; my responsibility. Frankly I don’t like too many people and too much noise around me; but this silence is also getting to my nerves. But then remember lesson two: SURRENDER to what comes before you.

            I take my morning walks daily. I am grateful to TH Iyer mama who cares for me. I also value my interaction with Mani Sir, a recent friend from Vipassana. He is friendly and sympathetic to my flotsam status in life. Then there is FB for human warmth which I find in a Deepak Mehra (he says that I deserve so much more than just a newspaper column and middle class earnings), and so many others who have nice things to comment on my wry posts.

            I feel that there are many who read my blogs especially in THINKSATHYA and they do feel nice about it. I wish there was some money and some success somewhere but if this is going to be my script then let me not make it a 70 mm technicolour drama except take it on the chin. I am sick and tired of this wastrel existence of FB, television, siesta and even music and guitar start to grate.

            Things are lousy at the moment and I am more than willing to sell this place. I feel stranded like a castaway in an island on nobody's map and waiting for some angel or devil for deliverance to anywhere. This feels like a STUCK-UP WHEEL in the sands and I could do with some human or divine assistance.   

FOSWL Talk on 15/4

TH Iyer mama featured me as a guest speaker for this month’s talk. FOSWL stands for Friends of Same Wavelength and it is a neighbourhood gathering. We invite a speaker who rattles off for 40 minutes on a semi-spiritual or health topic and then questions for 20 minutes before we are served two Marie biscuits and a paper cup of Tropicana juice. TH Iyer is the President of this initiative and he really packs in good speakers despite the attendance never crossing 20.

            I had a PPT prepared where I segmented the talk in three areas: Definition of Mindfulness and its origins, Buddha’s teaching in a nutshell on Anitya and Dukka, and finally the concept of Metha Bhavana or loving kindness. I was at the venue at 5:00 pm for  a 5:30 start and one of those early birds and arrange plastic chairs. Yogalaya is a wonderful venue. The crowd trickled in and we started off exactly with Swiss efficiency; T H Iyer is a man who spent four decades in Germany and he observes punctuality to time scale of an European or Japanese metro trains to the precision of a 8:31 and 6:38 kinds.

            Ms. Uma Seshadri had gotten the slide projector for me to plug on to my laptop and project it on a white screen. She got everything including the white screen but forgot the linking chord to the source which meant no PPT. Since this is a subject I breathe in daily, it was no sweat as I planned my talk more on practical experience than a theoretical construct. TH Iyer introduced me to the audience and said,” Sathya is one of those genuine thinkers and he speaks so fast. I will now request him to speak slowly,” and got the show started.

            I spoke for 40 minutes and speaking before an audience is not my cup of tea. It is real time show and you have get a lot of things right including tone of voice, content should flow and you make eye-contact with the audience and throw in a smile now and then. I did all this amateurishly. I was adequate for the day but a long way to go before reaching professional standards of a MC or a TV anchor level.

            My sister was there and so was my brother-in-law and it felt nice as I could talk uninterruptedly. Speaking from a dais feels like a money lender with so many ears and faces staring at you and you are literally on a pedestal. There were a crowd of 25 which was the highest in recent months. I had personally invited over a dozen friends at the beach and but non stirred on a Sunday evening and an IPL match. Ravi and Jacob said: SORRY on meeting me next day. Satish the actor said,” I wanted to come but I had a heavy lunch and dozed off after putting the AC at full volume.” I realized that on the count of reliability we can write the names of our friends and contacts on the beach sand close to the waves.

After the talk, Viji got me Idlies and Bajji and a coffee for I was ravenously hungry at a self-service at Adyar Signal. I was sure excited as hell with all this talking and being the cynosure for the evening; being on the spotlight does not sit nicely on my shoulders. I would rather be a writer any day where you write to your strength and to your time convenience whereas public speaking is ON TIME activity but the rewards are immediate too. You get a round of applause and lots of people wanting to talk to you after the show.

The next day at the beach TH Iyer mama asked for the speech notes. He loved the PPT content and a couple of weblinks I had mailed. Mrs. TH Iyer and their son-in-law in Australia loved the piece and it came as a sigh of relief that this was not altogether a squandered effort.  On Monday the 16/4, I was feeling jumpy and stressed for a post speech hangover. Give me writing any day was the thought I was left after this experience. Teaching soft-skills in contrast is not such a fanfare and tension thing.

+          +          +          +          +          +

Vivek and his wife visited me on 14/3.  This is my second meeting of the Saharanpur doctor in flesh, the first was in 2010. There is an air of affluence and positivity about the Banerjees. He said, “Both my kids are more or less settled and we as a couple are in a stage of life to afford monthly vacations. Last month it was Kaziranga and now Pondicherry.”  He looks so perfect as a doctor, a family man, a compatible partner, a proud parent that I envied him for a second. ARROGANCE and ENVY are two qualities entirely foreign to my genes but that day I felt a green monster thinking: even if I had 10% of his contentment and affluence, I will settle for them with unabashed glee and gratitude.

            There were here in Besant Nagar for 90 minutes as I took them to Vishranti in the hot midday sun. Vivek showed the Eliots beach to his wife and he also spotted a few rare birds which only a naturalists like him can spot.  On camera he said, “This is low end camera while my camera equipment is over 6 lacs and even the lens is imported,” as I told his wife,” Vivek and I are two unlikely characters.  He sees hundred patients a day and I get to see hundred TV serials a day.”  As they departed in the Ola cab I was left thinking: In my next birth I will be more than happy being a Vivek Banerjee. He packs in so much reliability and trust and competence in one frame. 

Sathya is a genius

Dr. Rajaram makes me feel special. I flower in his company. After chucking the plan to start PONGAL+VADA breakfast and impose on my Besant Nagar friends, I had another of those squeaky brainwaves of publishing a weekly neighbourhood tabloid with help from friends, of course, on the investing side. Everyone from the Prime Minister onwards talks of STARTUPS and so why shouldn’t I join the bandwagon and be its best ambassador?

           On 23/3 I whatsapped to the doctor, “How about meeting this Sunday weekend?”    The busy ENT replied, “Hopefully yes.”

            I responded with a lot of cheek,” I wanted to discuss a business idea and if we don’t meet this week then we will be hopefully friends?” I take zilch liberties with the general public but I am never short of over-smart quip with friends who have a stomach for humour.

            “Full of devilish humour, aren’t you? I will find an appropriate time on Sunday and meet you. Comprehendo!”

            I smiled and whatsapped: I am a pious devotee who has been praying for the Lord and when the Lord finally relents to give darshan, the devotee has had too much, he is way too exhausted and pissed off.” I added a couple of smileys and kept the banter going.

            On 25/3 I was proceeding to the beach when the Doctor called, “Sathya, I am starting from my house now and will be in Besant Nagar in 20 minutes. You had some crazy business idea to discuss.”

            My heart warmed up immediately for the ENT doctor is incredibly busy and for him to drive down for my sake felt that LORD indeed was karuna sagar, ocean of kindness.

            This is fast becoming a habit with us as he said;” Sathya, hop in and we can talk during a drive.” I kept regaling him as he drove through OMR then joined ECR at Neelankarai before we had breakfast at Hotspot at Thiruvanmiyur.” He loves my quotes as I said,” A smart man knows when and where to talk while a wise man knows when to shut up.” I also quoted him the Buddha’s “sorrow will follow a man with mental defilements like his shadow” or “his metha bhavana will follow him as the wheels of a chariot.” In doctor’s presence, I talk with the excitement of a 5 year old and nonstop at the 80 kmph. Dr. Rajaram in fact fuels my ego saying, “wow, that’s brilliant. Sathya, where did you pick that one from?” and it would be even more an incentive for me to keep my vocal chords rattling not that I need any in his company.

            I tell the doctor: there are very few people I love to listen and I love to talk and thankfully you trigger both my ears and mouth.  On the MY BESSIE project he said,” It is in your area of competence and even if you fail, it will teach you a lot of lessons. I will speak to my friends for a likely sponsor.”

            At the Hotspot table where we spread a plate of Idly and Plain dosa, he said,” Last week I met a mutual friend. He was asking as to why I stick with you?”

            I sat up with interest as to who this devilish mutual friend was as the Doctor continued, “I told him that in every interaction I learn more out of Sathya than he does out of me. The other man gasped in disbelief and I laid it to him: Sathya is a genius and he just does not know how to make money. None of us are perfect but at least we are nearer the money tree than Sathya who frankly is in the opposite direction.”

            I laughed and others around turned around at the eruption. I asked, “Who is this nosy friend who talks to you about me?”

            Rajaram answered beautifully: Knowing the name will not help you, it will not help me and it will not help him.  I smile saying, “Okay, have it your way.”

            As he dropped me at my residence he said, “I am glad to sit and listen to you all day for you are a genius. You are like an inventor of an airplane while I am a rustic passenger enthralled with the excitement of flying while you will be worried about those machinery and feverish calculations.”

            Without doubt I get so much joy interacting with this amiable doctor. We should record a conversation and put it on youtube for a definition of banter and leg-pulling and false humility. Dr. Rajaram is indeed the person who gives me the most joys for a companionship since the days of Balakanth.

+          +          +          +          +          +          +          +          +          +          

Again it was Friday when I learnt that my father’s paternal cousin T S Arunachalam passed away ten days back. I was speaking to my Bangalore Uncle when he dropped the news. I took his daughter’s telephone number and spoke to her on Monday.  I said, “I am Sathi. Only two days back I heard of your father’s death. I wish to meet you in person. How about Tuesday?” She acquiesced and that took me to the other end of the city in Virugambakkam. 

            I took a 5E to Pondicherry House on 27/3  leaving home at 3:30 pm. The summer is blazing hot now and body losing fluids all the time. The climate change and global warming is real if you live on a seashore and the afternoons feels a furnace.  Anyway reached Ms. Jayashree’s house at 4:30 and I was surprised to see that part of town. It is a beehive of activity and a throbbing college on that stretch of road.

            I am seeing Jayashree after 25 years. She welcomed me and narrated the last few days of her parents: Sathi, my mother had a block in the main artery and five doctors recommended a surgery. We did the surgery at Vijaya and she collapsed there, it was so sudden. She died in June, 2017 and after that my father simply lost the will to live. He was undergoing cancer treatments at Adyar Institute and he was really progressing and remissions and all that; but after mom’ s death he just did not care.

            Prakash got married to a handicapped woman and Balaji is alone. He has been working for 25 years with HCL and now he simply cannot stand (both her brothers are afflicted with muscular dystrophy).  Jayashree told me how she and her son Ashish would clean the aged parents including sponge baths and toilets. My son never shied away from cleaning urine and excreta. Even in the last few days I was pleading with dad to find some mental strength to live.

            This tale brought home to me the value of family bonding and my heart warmed up to bless the family. There are few real heroes in our times and the real ones are always swept under the carpet in this apathetic society. How much I wished that both my sisters had a fraction of this love and service.

            I came home feeling refreshed and even Jayashree said, “My father in fact everyone from my aunts Girija and Mangalam refer to SATHI as a brainy person.” I felt flattered and also the kind of impact I created even when young. Jayashree got married to a Hyderabad boy and so we were well acquainted in the eighties.

            I wrote to Vaithy Chitappa about the visit and he responded like a dream: Sathi, you are a genuine person to match your words and actions. I am so happy that you met TS’s daughter and they must have found strength from your visit.

            Now let me end this twin tales with a heavy dose of FALSE HUMILITY: I don’t believe I am a genius or great but if long standing friends like Dr. Rajaram and distant relations Jayashree and Vaithy uncle feel, then there must be some truth in there!

My blood boils

Normally I don’t write a blog until I zero-in on the title in the mind. That more or less sets the tone and pace of narration. I had “Ides of March” for this tale but that was before I spoke to latha yesterday. 

            When 2018 began I made a promise to myself that these blogs would steer clear of these four characters: mother, siblings, sindhi for enough has been written and said on them to the point of saturation.  pushpa is dead on these pages for it is a story that is nipped a long while back, amma also is not a live bank account for she is terribly sick but both my siblings are devils-in-motion and there is no avoiding the pain and hate in these pages.

            I get a call from viji, my eldest sister for those new here, saying,” Amma is very depressed and I am taking her to Hyderabad for a week.  Can you please give Dr. Manisha’s number?”

            Dr. M came on the line next day saying, “Your sister called and I advised that if your mother is so suicidal the trip is better postponed.  Sathya, hearing the symptoms I think your mother needs constant supervision.”

            The mother and daughter went to Hyderabad on 10^th March, Charminar Express and I get a call from the she-devil on 13^th March with an excited shriek like a person who is  fast drowning. Said viji: Amma, is so embarrassing. I am going to put her in an old age home. Even the neighbours here are raising questions.”

            I said,” Look viji, I don’t know whether you are the patient or amma. I offered to take care of mother in Besant Nagar. I also helped you on the psychiatrist whose advice you conveniently ignored.  Come to Madras and we will take a call when your nerves are not so taut and jumpy.”

            This conversation got me rattled. This family is so poor that it cannot even give an aged person very close to the grave some breathing space. Of late "v "keeps threatening the old woman, “Behave properly or you go to an old age home.”  That has gone deep in amma’s psyche and that really terrifies her more adding to the already sick dormant depression in the mind.

            I was livid and I wrote on viji’s whatsapp page: "Better go to a church and become a Christian. You have not learnt the lessons of love and care and compassion. And if you treat mother so callously and dismissively, the odds are not so high that you will have a pleasant and peaceful death when your time is at the end.”

            I went to Vipassana on 14^th morning and came back on 18^th afternoon. I really felt sad that I couldn’t do a thing to add some grace in my mother’s last few months on earth. My earnings are nil over years, I am alone and yet I told "v": You and latha are worth over 5 crores and I am minus 5 lacs yet I have a much larger heart. You sick women!”

            I spoke to maternal cousin Mr. Srinivasan who said, “Both your sisters have no heart at all. Even the sight of a dying woman does not soften them.” Then Shyam who is my well-wisher commented over a whatsapp call, “Looks like both your sisters have not seen much suffering in life and hence act from a high pedestal. Life has a way of teaching these dolts.”

            There was no message from viji after 13^th and yesterday I called latha to test the waters. She was fuming,” viji was very upset with your mail. Amma is very depressed. Please delete my email id and don’t send any mails” I hung up and felt so disturbed that I walked down for the second Gold Flake of 2018, I told myself that both these women are lining up for a public humiliation that I will dish out. At a time and place of my choosing! Both these bitches see AMMA has a burden and it is for this reason I would live to see a day when these worms suffer the slings, boulders and Bofors gun of destiny. 

+          +          +          +          +          +          +          +          +

I had a wonderful time travelling with Mr. Narayanan Subramanian from Alandur Metro Station to Dhamma Arunachala in Thiruvannamalai on 14^th morning. He is my newest friend that I met during my last month’s 3 day sitting at Dhamma Setu in Chennai. He is 72 years, full of zeal of a new convert to Vipassana, a successful businessman who is affluent both on the money and people front.

            Seated on the front seat with him on the wheels of  a Honda City, he said, “Sathya, I have some guiding principles in life. NO ARGUMENTS with anyone, each one is entitled to their views in my presence. NO ADVICE, I hate to give unsolicited advice and that is the best way to drive people away from you. Any time I worry about my business in a downslide, I make it a point to NEVER INTERACT WITH NEGATIVE PEOPLE. They will justify my failure and advise me to visit an astrologer.”

            I mention this for I find this simple rule a wonderful discipline to follow in life. He joked saying,” I meet a 87 year old and another 80 year old every evening near my residence. Each one talks in turns and no one interferes with their opinions. Once it gets dark and mosquitoes start to harass, we disband and go to our homes. This is one human interaction we all cherish. It is such a privilege for people to talk and listen in our times.” He even bantered, “I call this deaf and dumb friendship.”

+          +          +          +          +          +          +          +          +

It was this 72 year old friend who said on my Pongal+vada business,” You will burn a hole in your pocket. My daughter-in-law is in the catering business and what you need to succeed is a passion for food and ability to cook. You have neither the mental side nor the cooking side; so better do any activity closer to your skillset and that is what nature intends of you.”

            This wisdom nixed two weeks of my planning on launching myself as a food caterer.  In the 4 days of meditation this idea started to take root and grow deeper: how about starting a neighbourhood weekly on the lines of Adyar Times? Those fuckers have 20:80% content to advertising. I can generate a more even spread at 60:40 and what more I will make for engaging reading.”

            Since then I spoke to couple of friends. This is money guzzling business but it can meet a premature death three months later and set me back by 15 lacs in which case I would have to SELL the Besant Nagar apartment or it can make my debut as a editor of India’s richest colony like Besant nagar and I may even be invited to dumb debates on Republic or Times Now or CNN News 18 when those Delhi fuckers need a Chennai angle. Meaning, I can be a city celebrity with this NEIGHBOURHOOD weekly if it comes off. On such a razor’s edge life goes on. Forget the humour but I am sinking and given the current murderous rage in my heart, I am most tempted to blow my brains off if I can get hold of a gun. Now I realize why America is a great country.

Life is tough

Imagine me having a kidney trouble and it needs transplant? Any obliging friend or relative and a kidney to spare; you must be joking. Living alone means that you have no father-in-law to worry about his daughter’s impending widowhood. In my case no one will pick the tab. Why go so far as a kidney, no one will even give me a lift if the career lies completely broken down and needs a desperate helping hand.

            I feel beggarly to ask favours and I am overwrought with shame each time I approach others. It is downright gross to ask, “I am looking for an opening in soft skills training. I am willing to do a free trial, do you know any company will play host?” But seriously the other side is just heartlessly dismissive. I asked my IMT friends on FACEBOOK who read my blogs to come to aid; everyone says,“ Sathya, you are a sun hidden by dark clouds. It is a matter of time before they clear away,” as though such a warm sentiment will obviate any need for practical assistance. We truly live in a self-centered world. Latha invited me for her son’s wedding, next invite would be Gautam’s baby’s first birthday or Aravind’s wedding whichever is earlier and nothing in between. People have seen me on the BEACH a million times, they have seen my tears and epic Greek struggles but there is none who will stand up and volunteer help even if it means to identify a tenant for a master bedroom that I advertise in the papers. This is some tale reflective of the chaotic times we all live in.

            I had 6-7 calls for the advertisement on 25/2 in Adyar Times. There was one 78 year retired Major of the Army who wanted a bigger place for storing things, he said, “my children are in AMERICA and I need a place to keep things.” He found my place a bit too small for his needs though I did not wish to transact with a septuagenarian which could be a race to death between me and him!!!! I had another 61 year old advocate who wanted to start a “speed post kind of postal” service. This fellow quoted law every sentence and I was so scared that he would be charge me with a summon for refusing to rent the place. Then a builder who said, “I am looking for just a place like this on the main road. I want a skeletal office space where my Accounts man can work. But your place does not have a separate entrance.”   

Then I had a 50 year company executive and recently divorced looking for quarters. This man’s mind worked slower than a tortoise for I had to repeat the terms half a dozen times till I got a throat ache (seriously this is no literary gag to generate a laugh but a medical condition of abusing the throat). I did not like the idea of sharing this flat with this man; he had that Rahul Gandhi level of intellect where 2 plus 2 would be the escape velocity of Jupiter to solve India’s health problems. Or connecting all the MRI scans!!!!

The only person whom I felt favourably inclined to rent out was a 18 year old drummer and this guy was super cool and super smart as he said,” I am doing my 12^th standard. I am a drummer for this group and we play in night clubs and malls. I am looking to rent out for a recording studio.” If I have this fellow as a tenant the first thing he would do is “soundproofing” the room and that would mean a major renovation work on the walls. Not worth the trouble for a 7 k rental income and so that fizzled out.

My break-even earning for a month is 35 k and I realized that at 7 k rental income I am only one-fifth down the least earning slab. Below 30 k I have to sell the house and retire in Chingelpet; Besant Nagar becomes out of bounds for me. So I am a cat on a hot tin roof to fix my earning source or I simply crumble under.

            My days are long. My arthritis is so severe that save for a morning walk I have no energy for a second expedition in the day. I spend my time on South Africa-Australia series or listening to music or guitar. But the best part is I sleep like a log in the afternoon which makes my night sleep a lot light and fluffy. I feel a Kumbakarna on some fortunate days when I hit those deep sleep keys, I take a while to reconcile with the waking world. Truly such depths of sleep is a blessing of nature. I also try to get in an hour of Vipassana but otherwise my world is ALONE and ABANDONED save for Iyer mama who I meet in the morning walks.

            T H Iyer mama is 85+ and he cares for me. Yesterday he got me a GERMAN HAIR OIL when he learnt that my scalp suffers from dandritus or some such medical condition where after 25 years of dyeing my hairs, the chemicals have done so much damage that any point I can make little balls of dead tissue much like digging the nose for a time-filler and fling this small balls of filth in the room which means I have to sweep them every day!! Iyer mama calls me at least every alternate day. He says: Chant Om Iim hreem shreem aiswarya Lakshmi namaha every possible second in the day. Not only that he gifts me a picture of Aiswarya Lakshmi. Another person who cares is Vivek and this week he is in Assam making tigers and hippopotamus pose for him in Kaziranga National Park. Seriously, my mind no longer wavers on the question of “who I would like to be in my next birth”.

            I saw “To Kill a mocking bird” at American Centre and loved it. I felt that Amitabh and SRK must be shoe shine boys for Gregory Peck; this man had a kind of screen presence and dignity that I have not seen before on celluloid. This week I went to Escape on Express Avenue to watch “Three billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri” and I loved the abrupt climax which I felt was outrageous. Frances McDormand deserves an Oscar for this. This is my third OSCAR best picture nominated movie; I plan to watch at least three more in the coming month.

            Maybe chanting Aiswarya Lakshmi slokas got me this brainwave. I am sick and tried being a CONTENT WRITER for 11 years not even earning subsistence incomes. My earnings are so abysmal that even bus drivers and conductors and auto drivers make more money than me. Which got me thinking: no more WHITE COLLAR job. Let me sell PONGAL, VADA and IDLY and see if I can net 20 or 30k. I am deadly serious as I explore on delivery boys and maybe outsource the cooking part. This is an idea growing stronger in the mind and truly Narendra Modi is a genius when he says that you can earn a decent livelihood selling Pakodas. Maybe this is the only profession which comes with no corporate slavery and no slights to the ego.

            Pause to consider: Had Chidambaram sold Pokadas his son Karthi would not be such a jackass as to indulge in so many scams and get caught or for that matter Nirav Modi and Choksi fellow. The answer to all questions is SELL PAKODAS. I hope and pray I have a better fortune selling PONGAL and IDLY than I had in the content writing space and soft skills training. Welcome to the new me; I will go down fighting or maybe soar. Wait and watch this space.

            Or maybe this is better. In the last 8 months I have known people croak suddenly and no warning. Prakash, Vasanthi, Thangam’s landlord who had darshan at Tirumala in the morning and died upon reaching the plains in the afternoon, and Vivek’s friend in USA. At times like this, I would love to join the brigade. Life is tough and I would rather die abruptly than suffer in degrees; die than rot kinds.