Of Momo’s, chapattis, chats, and life in a metro…

“Mother, I am done with the breakfast. Got to rush now.”

“Kid! Just hold on for a second. The curd cheese is almost done. Have a couple of spoons and go.”

“Kid!!! Huh Maa! I’m 13 now, will be taking boards this year. Anyway, stuff this in to the younger kid today. He is quite skinny. If left over, I’ll gulp all on returning back from the game.”

“Ruko…suno to beta…”

“What now mom! Relax. Take a chill pill.” Chill Pill!!!!!! Did I say that?

O really, I said that.

Bollywood teaches a number of witty locutions but we are probably not up to cast them sagaciously.

Ever seen a six years old kid doing BOTTOMS UP?

Now don’t sell me that how so ever grisly, it looks cute coz the kid has a puerile sweetness.

You ain’t a Rocket Singh for Christ sake, are you?

Even if you are, I’ve recently run bankrupt and can’t afford a penny for any of your antics.

Days and years passed and for all those Jesse Ryder – Umar Gul days, I took my mother for granted. Every one of us does.

We take earth, water, sun, rivers, parents and to a Herculean extent our anger and youth for granted, as if they would never fall, never show down, never question back.

By the way, for NON-NON INDIAN CRICKET FOLLOWERS, Jesse Ryder and Umar Gul are two very talented but extremely injury prone cricket players belonging to New Zealand and Pakistan respectively.

Still, during my college days I never felt that people may come so far, that distant from their roots.

It’s been recently that I discovered; A banyan leaf may well fall in an utterly different land. Ironically, today I see most of them falling away. The bucolic wind has surely if not suddenly changed to a tornado.

I landed (?) over this rusty brainwasher planet on July 11^th, 2008 for reasons as obvious as breathing.

Pardon my usage of words in the above statement. No personal offence to any of Kunti’s sons despite whatever happened during Mahabharat, I feel sorry for coming and staying here.

This has been the only city/place/village/jungle (Damn!!! include Under Ground mines) which has given nothing but a peevish taste to every gland/sense of mine.

I therefore happen to visit the place I like but living in a place where you would last favor to, is called LANDING there.

Trapped in my own cob web of life.

People here do not gather, do not talk. Why?

A sullen excuse (like you have just discovered that 3 rats died in the best cookie box of yours) is that they (We) do not get time.

TIME!!

Time has swollen for Gtalk chats.

Time has up surged for Her/His FB visits.

Time has aggrandized in CCDs and Baristas sipping goddamn Cold coffee and ice teas over that garlic bread.

Time has found a new friend in whatever profuse over PVR every sick Friday.

Ask Bharti Airtel, Vodafone and Ambanis who are creaming money like anything, and they will tell you what is the average number of hours (You read it right, it’s hours) the so called ambitious and multi-talented youth of this GOING-TO-BE-SUPERPOWER country smoke over the phone.

And be assured that except one (hail one of my dear friends) no one use even ten percent of it for complete family combined.

Some fools still say and believe that in India we have large families. Misers, losers like me.

Still, it is not the fault of our cool studs and newbie divas. Someone must have made the day a little longer for them and lo and behold, they would have made a Rockies out of every mole.

Waking up just a blink before sunset and flickering the loathsomely dressed body to the beats of “Porcupine Tree” till moon says “Hasta la vista baby” is the new art of living.

They however do not understand that moon still is their “mama(uncle)” and laugh at them calling them baby.

No bad blood with the famous music band, I still feel that human race is a social animal and hence can not gulp a sudden Argon like behavior. And that too just towards…… (I need not fill this.)

Living on the edge as does our “Tyler Durden” in FIGHT CLUB, is the COOL FUNDA for the Mountain Dew soaked emotional and wiz generation.

But to be extremely truthful and sorry, I do not see any hope in this young brigade. They simply looks like a filthy bunch of talented geese that shows off, fights among them and dies no where.

And I am not talking about the physical world anyways.

It is not the making and caring for new relationships that hurt, it is the blight it brings to the existing ones that discomforts.

It is not the late night talking to the opposite sex peers that aches; it is the switching off of the phone when mother calls up in the morning after completing a hard fought fast just to hear your voice that pains.

It is not the scooping of momo’s and burger that discomforts, it is the memory of the days when you quitted the same cabbage your mother cooked that persecutes.

It is not the sum of money you spent on your father that matters, it is the share which was always more than cent percent from him that pains.

Love is not what we find in “Keith”. Love is not what we find in Oliver’s “Love Story”. It is not even in “DDLJ”.

Love is in your mom’s heart which never gets to learn when you have become YOU from “A PART OF HER”.

Someone once said, “It is easy to find love. It is even easier to learn how to love. But it is almost impossible to keep the love.”

This city alleviate this reaction as if it is a catalyst………..burning us inside us.

Or probably, I do not fit here. May be I have a small town, one old mentality.

In any case, I love to be this way, near to my current relationships. I do not find solace it growing ten new twigs at the cost of my oldest and most precious branch and root.

I will hold pride in being known as a small town backward buffoon than being a parasitic flower.

One of the famous poets (I do not remember the name) once said:

“Jitne roj ghar ko nahi lautaa main,

Maa dua se uthi nahi log kahte hain.”

Translation:

People say that mother was continuously in prayers for the period I did not returned home. 

At 6:30 AM in the morning eating bread slices…..Mom, I really miss your chapattis….

Having said that, if this is it………….Hail Small Townmanship!!!!!!