Nachiketa ...The Play!

….During school hostel days, On ‘Teachers Day’ we put up a play ‘Nachiketa’ in honor of our dear teachers. I was to play the title role; a hidden listener of conversation between his parents waiting with a sword for an appropriate moment to kill his father (an old learned sage).

The stage had Nachikatas’ mother laminating over him having run away, unable to bear his father’s harsh treatment and scolding. The sage, on being asked by his wife for his insensitive behavior replies that his rebuked him to restrict him from exhibiting vanity of his intelligence and knowledge. In fact he believed his son was a gifted with immense qualities and he felt very proud of him

Hearing his father’s true feeling Nachiketa (read I) comes out of cover throwing away the sword and himself on the feet of his father begging 4 pardon for his fallacy. My buddy Vibhuti & Lalit played to role of father & mother respectively. 

The happy ending play was supposed to end with the Lalit (mother) offering food (sweets on a large platter) to me (son). Lalit instead of offering me the sweets held it for himself waiting for the curtains to be drawn. I not to miss the sweets also took hold of the platter. Vibhuti not to miss his share too grasped the platter. The curtain pullers (also classmates) seeing the onstage fun won’t pull the curtains while none of us would let go the platter while the audience had a heart full laugh. Finally the curtains were brought together & the curtain pullers too joined in the loot

Half knowledge is the most dangerous!

Electrical Technology was beyond the realm of my knowledge. I could not distinguish between an earth & neutral. “Most people don’t know…” I justified, never feeling guilty of ignorance.

I was asked the trade of my choice by my division officer in basic training. “Electrical” I said. Kumbhkarana when asked for a boon bu lord Shiva had asked for long sleep. I am not alone in my league.

Actually nobody gets a choice …but I had been the boyPO (official ring leader) among the 200 young trainees.

It was not out of any fascination for a technical profession …I was told electricians worked the least. I could have gone with aviation but their scope (of travelling) was limited to the two aircraft carriers & a couple of aviation base.

Electrical meant any ship, anywhere …with least work… fascinating to the traveler …in me.

I for the first time muddled between Inductive & capacitive reactance at the Technical school. Applied mathematics was even unnerving …but I was undaunted & passed 1^st division.

Jubilant on my first transfer armed with the knowledge numerous theories, technical specifications, principal of operation, working principals, (SOPs) standard operating procedures,… Onboard I met with reality. Having learnt all the complex formulas & theorems all I was doing were dishes. ‘How little of what we study is employed in jobs we do’…I wondered “what a fu_ _ waste…”

One fine day (Sunday) I was asked by the old man (HOD) to go to sailing club for some bathymetry (water depth investigation) survey.

I was naive to the seemingly complex survey equipment setup. Srinivas asked me if I knew battery connections for power supply to the whole jumbled setup. “I don’t” I admitted inciting his scorn.

Two large 180 AH batteries lay in the corner. I laid the power cable with red & black leads clung to crocodile clips. “Be very careful while making connections” he said & I stirred my head in acquiescent.

He clasped the crocodile clips to the battery terminals. I was observant & intuitively felt it wrong when Srinivas connected the red lead to negative terminal.

Smoke with sparks spread out of the cable. “Run” Srinivas cried and fled.

The cable burning up emitted loops of smoke. Out of instinct I yanked the cable as the crocodile clips unfettered off the battery terminals.

“Batteries could have blasted. I had said run, didn’t you listen” Srinivas sneered. “Let me tell you” I was vociferous “Red is Positive”. He beseeched "Don’t mention this incident” .

“I won't until it mattered but ...mind it…” I said “half knowledge is the most dangerous”. 

April One Bakra!

So......did u guys play any pranks or enjoyed being the April 1st Bakra.

Returning by the office bus my dear buddy Anand handed me over his passport & other documents (just returned from a offshore assignment) as I had a seat. He usually late is pessimistic about getting a seat so keeps throwing his weight around.

I quietly passed over the documents to Madhur (somebody told him - Gentlemen keep smiling!)

At our bus stop Madhur got off before me and Anand was the last one to drop out of the bus.

Anand finding me without his soooo important documents was prompt 2 ask me about it. With a forgetful gaze I simply told him that it might have slipped in the bus.......... as if he was struck by a Shock. Next second he was rushing back to the bus lest it moves on …and in a frantic effort looking up & below the seats.

A sudden sense of guilt engulfed me for making such a gentle hearted guy panic.

 The only consolation came 2 both of us when I reminded him that it was April 1st and he out of the muddle smiled back to me.

Nothing but Winning

Prologue

Galamaar unofficial naval vocabulary, broadly means ‘one who skips all tasks’. Youngsters in service take it as compliment while theoretically wiser old hands despise it.

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Command athletics meet was round the corner. Lieutenant Manoj Kumar, young sports officer with girly looks walked down to mess. He spoke in soft voice which I soon realized was actually a command.

“Raghav you are participating in the race”. He said to me.

“Am I” I related startling.

“Marathon race”. He was prompt to reply. Element of surprise is the hallmark of any offensive.

“Damn! Its 44 kilometers … … I got an injury owing to leg twist in morning PT (Physical Training)”. I articulated limping on my left leg.

“PTI (PT Instructor) reported u were absent from the Physical training”. He cornered me.

“Uuch! It was yesterdays PT” I uttered.

“You have been bunking whole of this month” He checked on the PT muster roll. “I’ll have to report to EXO” He cornered me further.

“I think I’ll run …but not marathon …anything shorter will be fine”

“Half marathon” he sniggered.

“Lesser still” I solicited.

“Ok! 2000 meter race. That’s final” He said with diligence.

“Be kind, you are the best officer onboard!”I eulogized.

“Okay! You go for 800 meters race”. He settled it by his own consent.

 “800 meters is too long & my leg is really injured” I expostulated grumbled.

“You are taking advantage of my kindness, at least run 400 meters” He said pompously.

“You ought to be the welfare officer, just let the run be shorter…!” I remonstrated.

A word of praise never harms, timing though matters! “200 meters just out of my liberality” He puffed in vanity.

“It’s kind of you…200 meters are lengthy, isn’t it!” I squabbled.

“No race is shorter than 100 meters” He sneered.

 “Last and final call for 100 meters heat race” I heard the announcement as I entered Saurya stadium (Saurya means valor…& I was in mood to depict it). Other participants had warmed up and stood their lane for the run. I strolled in.

‘Bang!’ the pistol signaled the start. I was the last to start. The participants waited for me at the finish while I hopped like a kangaroo in slow motion. Cheering party gave me disgusting to pitiful glances & mocked.

You don’t hurt anybody, still get pinched by their response to your action. I felt bad for loosing without even trying.

“Better luck next time” Rohan, who finished first, cajoled me.

“It’s not luck dude” I said with a stare.

The final run was on the fifth day- Final day of the athletic meet.

I skipped the bus and ran instead. Sweat ran behind the ear. It felt refreshing. My place was 12 kilometers while exhaustion overwhelmed me nearing 6 kilometers. I ran faster to mount the bus halted at the bus stop but as I stepped in something within drew me out. ‘I will run’ I promised myself the second time.

‘Winners are among those who don't stop when they are tired’ it is as true in life as in cross country races. Short runs however need swiftness. Both require strength, stamina and above all will! In a marathon the first 22 Kilometers is out of strength another 11 is stamina and the final 11 is will power. Shorter run entail all instant.

I checked my stop watch - 64 minutes meant low stamina. Leg muscles ached. I knew this pain from the cross country run in school days. The next day would be the most painful thereafter pain would recede in three days with regular muscle activity. Physically we can endure …if we don’t give up mentally.

At 0448 hrs I was the first to enter the stadium. I had left my block at 4. Running long after you are tired leads to secretion of adrenal hormones from the pituitary gland into the blood stream which reach the brain and give a high. The pleasure is like that of a drunken man as alcohol too stimulates adrenal rush.  I had experienced it many times & I experienced it now.

One day before finals we had a trial run. I came close to second but finished third. All were surprised by my performance while I felt disenchanted. ‘Nothing but winning’ was my aim.

I challenged the athletes for 10 rounds of the arena. The only thing repressive about sportsmen is that they apply their will and not wits. They contended with reverence.

We began the run. Rohan & I competed to lead for the first three rounds with others following close behind. I retarded to fourth place in fifth round seventh in sixth and finished the last. Rohan applied all his will to lead but finished third. They were dead tired and contented having beaten me again. “Fools are most serious when it matters the least” looking at them, I thought.

In Saurya stadium the next morning Rohan was almost limping. He got a muscle cramp, the doctor had examined. Sports of all other things are about strategy. Rest of the athletes for 100 meters finals too grumbled from muscle ache. They had run too fast and too fast to tear or tire their leg muscles. Although late, they knew their mistake.

I was happy for Rohan who against all odds participated and stood second. As for me’ Nothing but winning’ was my aim.  

“What are your hobbies, apart from getting bored.”

Trivandrum express raucously halted at Lonavala. It was cold outside. A dozen pretty looking girls entered the coach and clamored around our berth. Raj had inspected the reservation list at Mumbai and notoriously smiling mentioned Anaya Pillai Age 19 Lonavala to Trivandrum.

I wondered which amongst the lot would make us lucky. Usually I find myself in company of noisy elderly people or kids. Travel appeared brighter this time. Meanwhile I graded the girls on their persona …looks…figure…! Raj too was busy in similar mental exercises. “All dogs think the same way” My friend Lax used to say.

The whistle blew! Girls cuddling among themselves till now hurried to the door …except one! I had rated her 12^th. Plum in light blue jeans & loose kurta (long shirt) she was better than the company existing – a - just returned from Gulf –Murali dharan. At Mumbai CST sweating profusely he violently cramped his three XXXL suitcases below the lower births & changed into lungi. Lecherously he ogled the girls. Not all his fault ...after months he got a so close glimpse of women.

The other two keralites occupied in their conversation resembling Laurel & Hardy in black. Even the prattling girls didn’t perturb their tête-à-tête.

I knew it now why Raj won’t change his immaculate suit when I had changed to shorts & slippers. First impression they say goes a long way! Mindful of female presence he sat upright …usually otherwise he behaved normal. The train recovered its speed.

Amidst silence I gazed out of the window in the gloomy night. Except the trains reverberation everything was silent. I turned to Annaya seated left & broke the ice.

“What all are your hobbies, apart from getting bored.” 

She looked puzzled “What did you saaay …?”  She asked getting herself closer.

I repeated! She blaringly replied, “I am not getting bored, I thought someone would take the lead”.

Loosing inhibitions Raj asked her, “what’s yours name?” I replied for her, “Annaya” He himself had informed me.

Undaunted Raj went on, “Where are you coming from?” I interrupted, “Lonavala”

Next query was obvious to me,” Where are you going?”. “Trivandrum” I snooped while the lady stared at me.

Contrary to what I thought Raj was intelligent enough not to ask for age.

I couldn’t reply to the volley of questions thereafter.

She was cheery to talk “What do you do? Where did u study? How’s your job? What are your leisure pursuits? You like making friends??? Each interrogation was followed by a similar query by the lady. Raj almost mimicked the rejoinders.

I listened… Anaya was a sales manager Trivandrum region for Stayfree a new brand of women sanitary pads. She was on her way back from a company meeting and loved singing, jogging, cooking and dogs. Coincidently Raj seemed to love everything she loved.

Eavesdropping Murali with each sentence Aanya spoke got his face closer to her by quarter of an inch. Tobacco stained yellow teeth protruded out of mouth as he intervened, “ayyo  ….malyalee …..  ….malyalee …..ayyo” The girl apparently distorted by the disruption replied, “I am a malyalee but I lived in Bombay”

“ malyalee appou… … serra…ayya” the yellow teeth smidgen saliva with incomprehensible utterance.

She turned to chat but Murali won’t impede ranting. Raj infuriated.

I didn’t care who talked to whom & plugged my walkman earphone. Why bear crap when you can hear music!

Murali kept prattling “… pedu …nain ..unni …snaeh .innu….nidu….” with the lady over the dinner.

“The gulf return has occupied her berth & won’t let her talk” Raj said patting my shoulder while I was drowsing on top birth listening to Pankaj Udhas gazals. “Complain TTE” I mumbled.

“Spare your walkman for her?”Raj almost pleaded.  Aanya glanced with tender eyes. Women eyes are the most manipulative …impetuously I passing on the walkman to Raj & watched her plug the earphones. Pankaj Udhas I hoped would do better to her than the garbling gulf return. I reclined back to sleep.

Drifting to sleep I heard a thud and reluctantly hunched to look. My walkman was tossed on the floor. Raj was quick to indicate the Murali for the misdemeanor.

I blasted,” Everyone on their berth and lights out in five minutes” The gulf return was dumbfound with mouth wide open. Military POC (power of command) had instant effect. Aanya dutifully picked the walkman & returned it.

I was contemplating “…five minute diktat …if not abided??? Calling TTE was an easy option.

A lesson must be taught…one side punch & hook up would suffice for the stumpy man.  I plotted my move. No straight punch on nose. Boxing training had disciplined me to get aggressive only by design.  Light went out. I turned to check.

Murali had retreated to his berth and Aanya lazed on her berth while Raj in middle berth kept an eye on Murali. ‘A wannabe lover transpires as an over protective brother’ I deliberated! 

In neap tides when waves are towering worst is the best possibility.

Propellers couldn’t pull back the boat in water & so we jumped overboard to push the boat out but receding tide being swift, the keel of boat was soon visible. After whole day of survey along the coast around Rameshwaram our boat had hit the mud.

The water ebbed. We were grounded on a beautiful wet beach. To pull our boat back in water we had to wait till high tide at 1AM. Message regarding the same was transmitted to the mother ship.

The chetak (chopper) landed on the beach with our EXO (Executive Officer) walking out of it. Expected to proceed on leave tomorrow, it seemed with us he too is struck.

Our clothes were wet and with dusk it began getting cold. Few fishermen came over to make inquiries & offered help. Fifteen thousand bucks they demanded.

Not very long ago the seafarers would offer help for goodwill which now had been expediently replaced by moolah. Help is out of fashion; only service is available for a price.  We thanked them for their offer & bid them bye.

The chopper revisited to drop our dinner. “With the cost of the fuel in choppers sortie we could have feast here” …someone grumbled. Humans never cease imagining better things.

In damp clothes we lay on the beach in murky no moon night. My wife once said, “Time never is bad, only how we take it”. I relished the thought but the frigid sea breeze perturbed me. To beat the cold I went running around …while few followed others coiled themselves around each other.

We tied long thick ropes to haul the boat. Midnight the water raised enough to stroke the boat. I pulled at the far end of the long rope. Gradually the boat floated. The waves pushed it further in while with the thick lines we lugged it to sea. Two of the crew mounted the boat.

The engine roared. The coxswain set the propellers & the boat stirred. It was a moment of triumph. Few of the crew clambered up the boat as it headed towards sea. At far end of lines, we cheerful of our accomplishment & tired of drawing the lines released it while the boat steered clear to the open sea.

It struck upon that we still not onboard would have to fritter night in bitter cold in drenched clothes. The beach too was reclaimed by the sea. It was either to act or endure. I instinctively decided to act.

I clinched the line & swam to the boat. Almost immediately did I realize that I clasping to the rope was being towed by the boat. It sailed full ahead (max. speed) & nobody onboard appeared to have noticed me.

Two prospects awaited me; either someone would pull the rope & I’ll be onboard or finding hard to retrieve the rope make good use of seaman knife. Chop the line and depart.

I am a good swimmer but in neap tides when waves are towering worst is the best possibility.

Apart from engine I could hear faint sounds of the men on the boat. Before long I could hear them yell & then I could recognize the voices … I was being heaved in. While all were jubilant, I having spent almost half an hour floating was happy to be onboard and alive.

Life goes on with revelry & …adventure!

Cherishable schooldays ...!

Schooldays are the most cherished days …& mine was Military School. Breaking the rules made the otherwise monotonous routine life interesting. If apprehended we never gave names …military school code of conduct.

During evening prep (study time) electricity cut was greeted with sighs of joy.

I during an electric cut walked to an adjoining house & met with a surprise!

My friend had managed to procure a beedi from the mali and with grand exhilaration lit it. I insisted upon him not to smoke the nasty stuff but he was unfettered.  Lastly I snatched it from him and dart out.

Bigger surprise awaited me. In the sprint I hit our AO (Administrative Officer) strolling on the road.

That instance everything conspired. In the importunate moment lights too came alive. I now in full glaze stood in company of the AO with the abysmal smoke emitting beedi burning bright red. Ironically neither could I explain nor confess!

Need me to elucidate the military style lambasting I had to bear for the next hour. 

There is something about rough sea that I enjoy.

While you hitch, roll, pitch and get tossed around all of the time … the balancing act itself is very tiring, still there is something about rough sea that I enjoy.

As the ferry drew closer I leaped in the awaiting speed boat. I had an overnight of sailing and there were no bunks and only seats in the 40 passenger’s speed crew boat. At sea having to sleep sitting was no bright idea only if those who hired the boat could have thought the same.

On better days one passenger occupied four seats in a row to lie upon but today night there were more than thirty passengers onboard. Adding to the woes, cook complained the food to be scarce. “The management had not bothered for victuals either” carping is time pass activity at such times.

As a matter of chance the sea got rough that night. Most of the passengers moved out to catch some fresh air in the open deck. Fresh air, lime and vomit bags are precious at such times.

As most of the passengers skipped dinner the cook was pleased to serve me. “Chicken is good” I complimented devouring.

Delighted to find the seats in the cabin vacant I fetched two blankets. The air conditioning is made bit too effective (set to low temperature) to keep the stench (quite usual in sitting spaces) away. 

Following a lavish dinner having ample space for a good night sleep was more than I could have asked for more!

The morning was calm and beautiful. There is something about rough sea that I enjoy.