The Vicious Bicycle

"Hero Ranger? Nahin hai Miyan. "abhi abhi ek potta usko lekar gaya, ek ghante se laake dega" muttered Aslam, the owner of Aziz Cycle Taxi. Disappointed, I had no option but wait. Else, I had to stay contended either with an Atlas Goldline Super or an ugly Green bicycle with a big seat that I always hated.

As a kid from the 3rd standard, I used to hop across the street, cross the road and head straight into the cycle Taxi to rent a cycle at 1 Rupee an hour. I consider this as a historic milestone of my life. Arguably, it is! It's the time when you put your feet on the pedals, maintain the balance, or even boast before your friends that you have grown taller. Because now, your feet touch the ground while the bum is on cycle seat!

I remember the first time I fell off the bicycle. It was when I spotted a bullock cart in the distance. As a panicked beginner, I pulled the front brake only to find myself thrown on a sand at the side of the road. The Cart man looked at me like a cow that looks up once while grazing on the meadows while chewing the cud.

In the early 90s, the bicycle ADs on television fascinated me. My eyes drooled over brands like Roadmaster, Hercules and BMX. I wanted to ask my dad to buy me a Bicycle from his Military Canteen as they are sold at cheaper price. However, an egoistic kid even then, I refrained to ask my whim. But my mouth continued to water - when someone purchased a new bicycle, when a new model was introduced in the market and also when I passed by those row of cycle shops off MG Road in Secunderabad. And when RGV made SHIVA, the cycle chain was already making raves within me! The sheer power of cycle and its parts, became an important chapter in my life.

One day while coming home from school, I met my maid who smiled and asked me to distribute sweets tomorrow. I was puzzled. Before I could ask her the straight dope, she went away and I tottered home swinging my Milton Water bottle wondering what could be the reason for sweets! I reached home only to find a Red color BSA SLR parked in the drawing room. My joy grew no bounds and I also realized that this was my reward for scoring 80% in my final examination. And the day I took it to school, I could hear murmurs like - This guy has a BSA!

Those were the days when the cycle bell commanded some respect. It was heard in my colony. Especially on Sundays and holidays when each one of us assembled brilliantly to form a kind of union in my colony playground. It looked like one "Bicycle Swayamwar". Cycles were of all shapes and sizes and so were its owners! There was this guy who also had gears fitted in his cycle. He was the kind of Hatke bandha to us then. One of them had a BSA Mongoose, a hunky dory cycle known for its crafty design and merged chain cum break option. Another boy used to get a large Atlas cycle belonging to the Naukar at his shop. It had a huge carrier and this earned him the nickname " Rickshaw" One of my friend had a Hero Hansa- Lady bicycle and I don't want to tell you how we teased him!

Because most of the boys (who later went on to become my friends) were remembered by the brand of cycle they processed.

Over the years, my bicycle developed frequent breakdowns and gradually it had its mechanical flaws. And with the maintenance expenses shooting up, one day I decided to abandon it. I left it unattended and it looked like a wounded soldier waiting to be nursed. It was also the time when the transition from bicycles to mini mopeds took place in India. Bajaj Sunny had arrived. The bicycle generation holocaust became evident. Years later, my Dad donated my bicycle to someone and then I had never felt an emotional nerve moving in me. It was also never a case of Good Riddance to Bad Rubbish Its just that I was unable to stand up and justify the need for its repair. So I thought perhaps donation was a better option. Not just me , most of you who had a bicycle during your childhood know the fate of it. They are always judiciously donated either to the cook, or the gardener or the mason and the like.

My Bicycle had taught me the Balancing Act in life. And today, this is my way of tribute to it!


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The Karma of Comics

One day Chacha Chaudhary and Sabu go for a walk. Two Thieves Makkan and Chakkan threaten them with a gun. Sabu gets angry and a Volcano erupts somewhere. But Choudhary, whose brain works faster than a computer, uses his stick to outwit Makkan and Chakkan and they run away"

Even comics like these have always been ridiculously entertaining. I remember the day I found another popular book. It was on a hot summer afternoon in 1987 I found an old & torn book which was hidden between newspapers on the top of a rack! It contained a story titled 'The Neem tree and the Grindstone'-Tinkle had arrived!

Today when I sit and recollect my association with these books, I realize that I have done every possible effort to read more, acquire more and discover more. The price of these books ranged between Rs 6 to Rs 20. And for a kid like me, buying new books remained a dream. I never liked to ask money from parents. Hence, I decided to find ways and means to get closer to my dream. And what all I did then, perhaps looks too embarrassing today, but deep in my heart I feel proud about my efforts. Here are some of them:

1. Making new friends and finding out if they have a nose for books.
2. Praise and flatter a guy who has a huge collection of comics.
3. Wait till late night or under hot sun outside the home of people who promised to give me comics after they return.
4. Visit a Raddi Wala Shop*( * A shack that sells old newspapers, bottles and other scrap)search among those newspapers & old magazines. If found any, I used to buy them at 1 Rupee each!! 70% of my collection consisted of books acquired through this medium. I remember the Uncle who ran that shop also used to address me as Uncle :)
5. Write someone's academic notes in a barter to get Amar Chitra Katha
6. Blackmail a classmate at school and get Tinkle in return.
7. Beautifully convince some of my rich friends to buy new comics for my selfish motive!
8. Chat aimlessly with a friend's sister with an intention to get Archie comics from her.
9. Support the guy who has maximum books if he gets into an argument during the game of cricket or any other sport.

One evening when we were playing, my friend Kartik approached towards me and whispered in my ear that he has got about 20 books. My mouth watered when he said that. He, however refused to reveal the source of books. Later I learned that the source of those books was a person called Nitesh who apparently has a huge collection of books. Suddenly a new mission had begun for me and it was easy for me to befriend Nitesh.

I visited Nitesh's rich house where he had kept hundreds of books in his private room upstairs, which looked like a library. I wondered how much money he would have spent to buy those books. Mine seemed to be a pauper's collection before him. Nevertheless, we began to exchange books.

One day I raised a proposal about starting a library. I conceived this based on my research in the neighborhood where I lived. There were many boys and girls in our who will be interested to read. Nitesh, being a true Gujarathi, gleefully agreed to start in his room. We started our project by pooling our books. Then we sorted out the books under different sub headings. We maintained a list and numbered each and every book. We took it very seriously. We finalized the rental charges of various books according to the number of pages and size. There was a late payment fine too! I also pitched the idea of reading books sitting in the library at an economical price of 50 paise. This concept worked beautifully for some Marvadi customers, who are known for their weird cost effective measures.

Gradually our Library gained its momentum. We became very popular among our other friends. Sometimes I'd go on my bicycle to distribute books door to door.It so happened that one day I had to deliver a story book to a pretty girl of our colony and little did I realize that this action of mine would frame and judiciously link me with that girl! And it paved way for gossips. Blame it on the age!

Very soon I was making a decent profit of 7 to 15 Rs a week. A portion of my income was spent on Paani Puri on Sundays after our usual game of cricket.

While I was involved with this, I didn't realize that my actions were making my other friends envious. Some of them who were very fond of me began to treat me differently. They perhaps didn't like my proximity with Nitesh. While I took utmost care not to get someone's hatred in our 'Business' and us. It took sometime for me to understand their thoughts and feelings. Remember Rajam from Malgudi days Swami and Friends? So much for the originality!

The matter became worse when Nitesh refused to take another friend who wanted to become a partner in our business by contributing his share of books. Well! the sparks had begun to fly all around. I was finding it difficult to manage my association with all my friends. I sometimes had to face the wrath from some of my best friends who said I had become conceited after the Library's success. I was terribly disappointed with the way mindsets changed. It looked as if some of them were trying to detach me and I looked like a sinister.

One late evening, I took an unanimous decision to part ways with our Library. Nitesh was visibly upset with my decision but later even he understood that, friends and mutual harmony is more important.

My life returned to normal and more exiting than before. I found myself sitting with group of friends and laughing away to glory. Those precious little moments which I missed during my basked glory came back to me slowly but wisely!

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The Man who made me cry

While my growing years have taught me not to shed tears, my early years never poised me to balance my emotions. Of course, life was too tender then and fundamentally too naive. I cannot attribute my sadness to various people who I have met in all my 27 years. I don't remember the bully of my school, neither I fancy artificial emotions nor I can list all those who have some way or the other became the cause of my cry. And it would be stupid though if I mention my rona dhona in real life. Simply put, Tears have no value in this fabricated world.

However, this article is a tribute to the man who showed me that "It hurts when you see a movie with your heart involved"

Kamal Hasan teamed up with Balu Mahendra in the Tamil film Moondram Pirai, which was later dubbed into Hindi as Sadma and Vasantha Kokila in Telugu. The picture tells the story of a young woman(Sridevi) who regresses to childhood after suffering a head injury in a car crash. Lost, she ends up trapped at a brothel before being rescued by Kamal Haasan, a lonely school teacher who falls in love with her.

After all the series of hardwork and attempts by Kamal to comfort Sridevi, I was amazed at the amount of loftiness Kamal brought in the entire film. Making her glee with his manoeuvre skills, jumping like a monkey after Sridevi expresses her fascination towards that Madaari

It's a performance that Kamal creates out of thin air, based on his own understanding of the character. Remember the toughest roles to play are the ones that are too simple, too normal It's not easy playing an average guy, but Kamal does it marvelously.

In the end, Sridevi does not recognize Kamal Hasan after she regains her memory and she understands him as a mad beggar. Kamal's memories, heart and soul are put into this very last scene when he reaches out to her. His eyes strikes us instantly with his tragedy, his attempt to get her attention by making unusual faces, the way he trots on the platform to grab a bowl and keep that on his head. And the moment when he bangs against a pole while running after the train, it hit me like a bullet. It hurt me more when when he sits helplessly on a platform and his student, shocked by Kamal's avatar, gets scared and leaves him alone.

Its an ending which the regular film junkies would never have predicted and would have been totally shattered by! Not even a Taare Zameen Par was able to shake me as much as Kamal Hasan did.

I was 11 years old when I saw this movie. I hated Sridevi for leaving Kamal. I never saw this scene again for some years ( Read : audacity lost)

The last 10 minutes of the film showed me the irony of life - You give so much and when giving you never even realize how much of you is also given in it.

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First Time, Second Show

After a long persuasion, my dad finally agreed to take us to a movie. That evening, I there were springs in my feet after I came back home from school. Since my childhood, I never fancied going to movies with my family members, but somehow on that day I just couldn't resist the idea of watching a late evening movie. My mother was against the idea and protested my ability of being awake late night. Despite these constraints we moved on.

The show was planned at an 'open air theater' which was about 1 km walk from our quarters in Ramgarh Cantonment in Ranchi-(Now in Jharkhand). I went to witness a most confusing theatrical layout. My 7 year old brain told me that it was a different world behind that huge wall, where they showcase the movie.

It was late evening when we reached the venue. The theater was full of Army men, Sardarjis and their families of all shapes and sizes. Every Sardarji was a Zail Singh to me! He was the only popular Sikh politician I knew those days.

We looked around and found a seat- after a great struggle. The murmuring crowd cheered and whistled when a light beam appeared on that Great Wall of Ramgarh. This shimmering light, otherwise referred as Ray of Hope was the cause for their ecstasy! I was seated in my mother's lap witnessing all this.

The movie began and my thoughts raced ( as usual) when I saw the fiery eyed Sridevi fox Rishi Kapoor when he tries to follow her in a ruined temple. I felt like going to Rishi and tell him " Hey! She is a snake!" I had no idea about my family enjoying the movie, but my mind coaxed me to ponder about a woman like Sridevi turn into a snake. I also knew that she'd never harm Rishi because he came across as a very nice guy!

Then there was the Tantrik- Amrish Puri. It looked as though his snake charmer tune will sink into my mind and stay there for the next couple of days. Because the place where we lived was infested with snakes, I also thought that his tune will actually lure the snakes out from the nearby bushes! Call it a childish thought or an ultimate example of how imagination can take over and become a reality in time.

Gradually, with the inclusion of potpourri scenes. a much hyped song called" Main teri Dushman, Dushman tu Mera accompanied by that 'not again' snake charmer tune, I lost interest in the movie and paved a way for my 'yawn'.

I was no more afraid of that Tantrik's intimidating look, neither worried about Rishi Kapoor's quest for the subdue reality, nor his Rona Dhona Mother who was shit scared of Sridevi's presence in the house. But I was impressed by Sridevi's eyes that kept me awake on most occasions.

Very soon, the drowsiness got the better of me. I knew the movie's climax will take a long time and I was not ready to sacrifice my sleep. I slept on my mother's lap and believed it as a safest place despite being in a colossal chaos.

Though this happened 20 years ago, I vividly recollect this incident with a pleasant feeling, each time I get ready to watch a Second show!

Because I think it deserves! Don't you think so?

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The Vibe Maker

Like countless of human beings all over the world, I have been influenced by Rajinikant. This article is a tribute to him and also to my friend Ashvin. Reasons you'd figure out as you read along.

It was the summer of 1996. I stepped out from my uncle's apartment in the plush Besant Nagar in 'Madras'. I got into a bus that'd take me back to my dad's defence quarters at Fort St George. On the way I peeped through the window, only to chance upon a behemoth poster. This poster comprehensively captured the filmy flavor and more importantly it conveyed what the actor means to South!

All the other passengers tried to get a better glimpse. The next moment resulted in a conversation where they (including the bus conductor) yakked away to glory. With my limited understanding of Tamil, I realized that they were raving about the film and the actor. That moment in the bus gave me an impulse. And that's when Brand Rajini was born!

I was aware of his presence as an actor (Thanks to those 3 Hindi films: Geraftar, Chaalbaaz and Hum) As a kid, I never wanted him to die in the film Geraftar. I saw him struggle while beating the goons, yet manage to puff the cigarette. I had prayed god to help him drop his cigarette and counter the goons. Because I then knew he was capable!

My innocence made me stay away from his films for sometime but return with a greater respect and adoration during the year Dalapati A.D


Albeit, I have very few Rajini films in my kitty, it was only after watching Dalapathi, I understood why Rajini behaves the way he is. Coincidently, Dalapathi was the work of Mani Ratnam, who I consider my greatest inspiration besides RGV and Kukunoor. The character Surya -true to his name, always made his appearance on the screen from East direction, during the course of the film. That's again the greatness of the director who ensured this subdue reality!

During my Rajini Quest I met a number of extremely intelligent people who spoke about Rajinikant and his great personality, not just as an actor. This became one more reason (however absurd it may sound to you) to push me among the people of Rajini League. And I like intelligent people with full of energy! The more I talked and discussed about the actor's stardom, my vibes went high, my thoughts sailed like Sindbad's voyage and needless to say, my perspective towards Rajini's films changed. I wanted to experience the thrill of watching his film in the theater, sitting the midst of the devotees of Rajnikant!

My prayers were answered when my friend Ashvin managed to get the tickets of Sivaji on the very first day- I consider this as an achievement and equivalent to Sunita William's trip to moon! I was excited about my debut. Watching the movie in the theater, of the superstar who I spoke so much, learned so much and raved so much! I was also gearing up to understand behavioral science of this Demi God's devotees, who succeeded in getting the tickets to witness an epic called Sivaji. However, I'd like to describe my experience in one line- It's a well deserving Glorified Filmy Kumbh Mela. I was goddam impressed! And I do not want to write about what happened on that day! You better get in that groove, or get out of the way!

I have never been impetuous about films. However, I care a damn if people talk about Rajini's impossible stunts or gimmicks. I give a shit if anyone regards him as a ham! I'd give two hoots to those who compare Rajini with any other actor. I'd never even worry about the story line, plot or the production values. I have realized what Rajnikant is for me.

He is my Vibe Maker!

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Divinity Countenance

Before you read this post- I confirm that the views expressed in this article are my own and I have not been influenced by anyone neither trying to influence any individual or society.

During my growing years, I was fascinated by the stories of Ramayana and Mahabharata. I consider it a privilege to be born at the time when India's television broadcasting progress had begun. That's how I learned about the Indian Mythology, the stories of various Hindu Gods. Of course as an avid reader, I also attribute this knowledge to those countless number of books like Amar Chitra Katha which I had read.

Being a Hindu, I got accustomed to certain practices. Some, derived through family rituals, while others, through my own beliefs. I have no idea about the origin of these beliefs, yet I had been following them for quite sometime. I do believe in the existence of the almighty. The breathe that keeps us alive and the force existing on this globe which prevents water to wash away the earth's crust is enough to substantiate the existence of God, according to me.

Now the question here is on my adherence to the established customs and doctrines. Belief, according to me is a respect given to the creator- God. Even though I have substantial devotion towards God, I fail to understand why some rituals have to be followed without any purpose. I can convey my prayers to the God directly by looking into his eyes and not really worried about the procedures and process. Of course, the designer of such process may have seen a reason. However, according to me, those reasons do not seem to be working or justified for today's world. People think today's God also requires Digital prayer by way of SMS, online and lots of hoo-ha!

I may be biased in saying this, but how could I possibly believe a priest who mutters mantras seem to convey my prayer to god? How many of us understand the language that he uses to communicate with god? I believe that the biggest spirituality comes in the form of trust and that trust need not be specific to mantras and rituals.

I have nothing against the belief system of others. As long as I am able to convey God what I want for me and others, its absolutely all right irrespective of the process you follow. Belief system only guides you to look for the righteous path but it does not guarantee you a well being. I think its a fear that constantly evades you from going off track.

Divinity, according to me, it detaching oneself away from the worldly pleasures and praying with a concrete meaning. I would still occasionally visit a temple, look into the eyes of god and pray which doesn't even last for 2 minutes.

However, as long as I remain a non conformist, I would continue my quest to get a deeper understanding about the 'Extreme Devotion'.

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Why Abhishek hates Mathematics?

When I was 8, my mother gave me 75 paise. It was a small fortune then. The money was strictly meant to buy a pencil and an eraser. I fancied the idea of going to the stationery shop near my school. The moment also celebrated my mother's firm belief in me. After all, I'd be carrying money with me- For the first time! Those 2 shiny little coins in my pocket made me feel proud!

My fantasy was shattered when I saw the shop being closed on that day. I waited till my school short interval time hoping that it would open later. During this wait, a sweetmeat cart, which was parked nearby the shop caught my attention. I saw the berries, guavas, the peppermint candy, the mint candy and all other eligible items of a push cart. My mouth watered at the sight of the berries being wrapped up in a small piece of newspaper, with salt sprinkled over it, shaken wisely and packed, and given to those 'lucky pupils'.

Like any other kid, I too was tempted to buy those goodies. However, I wasn't sure about the price of a pencil and an eraser. I wondered if I will have enough money left to buy those goodies. Standing before the sweetmeat cart, I kept my palms in my little knicker pockets and stared at the guavas- of all shapes and sizes and the glass bottles where the peppermint candies were kept. Then, I took out my coins. The 50 paise coin had Indira Gandhi, the 25 paise coin had a rhinoceros, embossed on it. My heart was beating fast. Questions erupted in my mind. What will I tell mother? Can I confess that I was very hungry and hence ate berries, guava and peppermint candies? (Despite the fact that I was carrying my lunch box too) What if I still manage to buy a pencil and also those candies? Will she ask me to explain the calculation? Will she thrash me for this horrifying act of mine?

I ran back to my classroom, opened the last page of my notebook and did some subtraction. With a pencil stub, I wrote 75-30= 45; 75-25= 50 and so on. I assumed the cost of pencil and eraser together to be 50 paise and I would still still be left with 25 paise. I went on doing this calculation, till I analyzed that whatever I spend towards goodies, I can still buy a pencil and eraser. I came back to the sweetmeat cart and gave the 'rhinoceros coin' to the seller. He chopped a juicy guava , dipped the knife in salt and smeared it all over inside the fruit and gave it to me. I wolfed it down.

During lunch time, I went to check the stationery shop and yet again found it closed. This time, my lips smacked at the sight of those salted berries. I again ran back to my classroom, opened the last page of my notebook and judiciously calculated till I was forced to drop the idea of purchasing an eraser. I thought I'd still be left with 35 paise, good enough to buy a pencil. I ran excitedly towards the seller and gave him the 'Indira Gandhi coin'. He gave me a juicy little packet containing salted berries, but to my horror he also gave me an old rusty 20 paise coin. He told me that the price of berries was 30 paise! I didn't knew what to do? I felt as if I had lost a gold coin, a souvenir. It looked as if I lost a huge amount of money. The Indira Gandhi coin was gone, and in return I got an ugly 20 paise coin that threatened to wash my dirty linen in public.

Eating those berries, I tried to cook some believable reasons, that I thought can put my mother at ease. I thought I'd tell amma that I was damn hungry and my lunch box wasn't sufficient. Or I'd say I wanted to taste those goodies, but never realized the cost etc. Nevertheless, I also had to remember the calculations, and explain how I had spent 75-55 paise= 20 paise Till evening, my cerebellum and cerebrum was involved in calculations- Namely, Addition and Subtraction. Mathematics during Social studies class, Mathematics during P.T etc. And all those calculations narrowed down to 20 paise.

By the time the school was over for the day, I trotted back towards the sweetmeat cart. I thought I'd go and ask him the price of each peppermint candy. I learned that it costed 5 paise each. I suddenly realized my assertiveness(Read: Dumb or nincompoop) and explicitly asked him to give me 2 peppermint candies. Of course, in return, I also got an old Aluminum made 10 paise coin with no beauty. I was too tired to recollect the total Hisaab of the day. However, I blissfully devoured those peppermint candies at regular intervals on my way back home!

What happened once I reached home? How did I confront my mother? How did she react to my debut spending? What explanation did I gave her for pencil and eraser? Was I able to justify the exact calculation?

I'd leave the readers to ponder. Perhaps, the title of this article suggests- any body's guess!

© All rights reserved with Abhishek Naini. No form of this may be reproduced without prior permission from the author.