Chez Moi

[This is a work in progress. I know I have to tweak it majorly, add hooks to it to grip my readers etc but have hit a block after this. So, patience!] I saw him looking at me, surreptitiously from behind his book. When he saw I had noticed him, he bent his head back to his book and started reading with a vengeance. After a few minutes, when I glanced in his direction again, he dropped his eyes to his book once more, a fact that both amused and irked me. I had also taken in the name of the book he was pretending to read - bestseller of the moment and I was sure the author wouldn’t like being sidelined this way! Just then the tinny sound of the tannoy came on, announcing my flight. I rose to gather my bags and started walking towards my gate when I saw my ‘friend’ was right behind me. I prayed fervently that he be on the flight to Timbuktu - but Lady Luck wasn’t feeling up to favouring me. I had just stashed my bags in the overhead bin and plonked on my seat while I heard a soft cough and looked up. My admirer was standing along the aisle, with a sheepish grin on his face - well, it looked like he was going to be my neighbour for a while. Resigned to my fate, I stood by to let him pass by. Standing next to him for a minute, I could see he really towered over my 5′6″. As he actually made me feel like a midget, I figured him to be over 6 feet. Shoving thoughts from my mind about the tall-dark-handsome variety, (’cos he did look a dish!) I sat down to my 9-hour journey home.

*******

Home – I haven’t been home since I left it eighteen months back, to pursue my studies in the land of Shakespeare. Apt, I thought, of my choice of location, as I had chosen to master in English literature, with a slant on writing. I was now on my way home, to get spoilt by the family. A smile lit my face as I thought of them – my rowdy, twin younger brothers who were known far and wide as the Terminators; my sweet old granny with her gap-toothed smile; my caustic aunt with her rat-a-tat remarks and a permanent bellow of ‘Stop that racket now, I am trying to sleep’; my beautiful baby sister with her sweet face and sharp wit; my wizened old grand dad who’s deaf as a post; my other aunt whose life’s mission is to see that we were all fed till our stomachs burst; and of course, my parents, constantly bickering, winning awards hands over fist at the Olympics for spousal arguments – oh, how I had missed them all! It was my other grandpa, with his love for the written word, who inspired me enough to want to study English at University level. My friends all thought I was daft – to shun colleges like BITS in favour of a simple BA in English! They are all well on their of becoming doctors and vets and engineers, while I am still plodding along in the self-same path. But I don’t care – I love books and to get a job in publishing would do me just fine till I write my own books.My reverie was interrupted by a gentle tap-tap on my shoulder. I opened my eyes wide to see blinding light – it took me couple of minutes to focus and realise that I was staring at the TDH’s pearly whites. Upon my puzzled glance, he explained ‘Oh just thought you might want a bite to eat?’ That was when I noticed the air steward (im) patiently waiting for me to tell my choice of food. Though I was a bit irked at being caught napping by the TDH, I was grateful cos I was famished. Though my flight was at a decent time of the morning, I had to check-in 3 hours earlier and as I lived out in the boondocks, it takes me a good while to reach the airport. It was hard enough to wake up at the unearthly hour, much less try to shovel some food down my throat. So much so that I was looking forward to the plastic fare one is served on the flights. I lifted the cover off my veggie meal and was delighted to find triangles of paratha and started to tuck in with gusto. Not bad, I thought to myself and was about to sample the other culinary delights when TDH went ‘oh so you are a vegetarian, eh?’ With my mouth full of Bombay aloo, I couldn’t respond with a sarky reply but I just raised my eyebrows at him and he blushed. God, he had the most gorgeous eyes – eyes that just sparkled at you. I was having a tough time ignoring him as is and here he was, trying to make friends. Oh boy, it was going to be one hell of an interesting flight! I gamely swallowed and replied ‘Yep. You?’‘Oh me too. I used to eat anything that moved but had an epiphany one-day and just stopped eating meat. I have been a total veggie for about 3 years now and love it. I’m Arjun, by the way.’ I shook the proffered hand and replied ‘Aarthi. You live in the UK, then?’‘No. I live in Boston – or at least, used to. I am moving back to India for good. I went there about 5 years back, finished my MBA, got a job – now I want to go home and do some damage there!’, he finished with a grin. Awww! That was so sweet and patriotic of him, I thought. I told him so. ‘Yeah well, I just missed home and all of its trappings – travelling on an auto, going to the beach, fighting the traffic (he laughed at my derisive snort at that remark), yeah well, the whole works, you know. You probably think I am nuts or something, don’t ya?’

*********

Get a grip, Arjun, he told himself. A successful 28-year-old, with a MBA degree no less and two years of working for a prestigious Boston firm under his belt already and here he was, behaving like a star-struck teenager. He couldn’t help sneaking a peek at his companion, as she lay sleeping in her seat. Aarthi. He said the name to himself a couple of times, rolled it around his tongue like he was tasting a fine wine. The name suited her. I bet the goras called her RT, he quietly grinned to himself. His name as it came out of his American friends’ mouths bore no resemblance whatsoever to Arjun. They were all happy to call him RJ – as much as he had hated it himself, it was better to be RJ than hear them maul his name day after day. Oh well, he thought. He was going to miss his friends, his apartment, his local hangouts – but it was time he went home. At 28, he was tired of the mechanical aspect of his life and of late, it was getting a bit too same-y for his own good. Every day had a bit of sameness to it and when he felt himself getting into a rut, he thought it was time to get out of it before it became too much of a comfort zone. That was what prompted him to chuck his plum job with a six-figure salary and book the first flight home. Well, he was lucky there – his group of bosom buddies from BITS days felt they were ready to make the move back home as well and here they were, setting up a company in their hometown. Moon-eyed is not a good look for a budding entrepreneur, Arjun, he told himself sternly. His jaw set in a firm line; he flipped his paperback open and pretty soon, was involved in the antics of Robert Langdon as he bowled down the streets of Paris.

******

‘So do you live in Chennai, then?’ started Arjun. Bracing for the oncoming in-depth swapping of details, I took a deep breath and replied ‘Yeah. 100% Madrasi, through and through. What about you?’ ‘Same here. Parents are originally from Palghat but have settled in Chennai since before we were born’, he responded.‘We? How many of you are there then?’ ‘Well, first there’s me, Arjun’, here he stopped and gave me a grin, ‘then there’s my brother Sanjay, who’s in his final year of B.Arch and last there’s my sister, Shruthi, the darling of the family. She’s has just entered college now. Your turn.’‘Hmmm, first there’s me, then I have two younger brothers – twins – Ashwin and Ashwath – they finished their bachelor’s and are studying at IIM-B now. Last there’s my baby sis, Aditi, who’s in third year of medical college.’ ‘Wow. Four of you, eh? So there are two budding MBA grads, one doctor in the making – what about big sis then?’‘I am the black sheep of the family. I didn’t want to go down the usual Engineering or Medicine route. But when I decided to major in English though, no one was surprised – I have been in love with the language since I was a wee baby. Once I did that, I wanted to study in England – this is the first time I am going home since I left last summer and I cannot wait!’‘Aw! That is so sweet. I remember the first time I went home after living in US for two years – I had missed the idly and dosas so much, I didn’t stop eating for a week! Now that I am going back for good though, I don’t know what to feel.’ ‘Relief, confusion, excitement, fear….?’‘Oh thanks Aarthi. That really helps,’ he laughed.That was when I noticed his dimple and I had a tough time keeping my tongue in my head. Since I was old enough to ogle at guys, the dimple had fascinated me. How it can change a face from being an ordinary one to a cowabunga! kind of one, if you get what I mean. Man! The guy just was too good looking for my own good!
*************
Arjun came to with a start. He had fallen asleep watching Dhoom in the minuscule screen – lord knew for how long he was out. He rubbed his eyes, sat up and glanced around. The cabin was completely dark – all the ‘inmates’ were out of the count, except for Aarthi. A R Rahman was screaming in her ears and she was immersed in a paperback. This girl takes multitasking to new levels, he thought, as he heard her hum a popular number softly.That was when it hit him – the dream he had. He remembered the highly entertaining dance number in which the Small B prances about the house with a semi-clad Rimi Sen. Only, it turned out to be him and his lovely companion doing the ‘Shikdum’. It was that darned movie, he thought to himself. He pressed the button for the stewards and when one materialised, asked for a cup of strong coffee. That would make sure he did not come up with more fantasies – he wasn’t too sure Aarthi would find it remotely amusing.Now, wasn’t that funny? He who has always steered clear of the boyfriend-girlfriend situations all his life was now having dreams about a girl he had met just a few hours back. It wasn’t as if he was a monk – he just didn’t want to get into the whole dating scene. As far as he had experienced vicariously through his friends, it wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. He had a number of very good friends with whom he went out on a regular basis. But one true love? Nuh-uh. His friend Michelle had called him a cynic. He felt he was more a realist. This way, he remained friends with everyone and saved himself the heartache that surely lay at the end of it. He had seen too many Bollywood movies to believe in the ‘happily ever after’ scenario. That wasn’t being cynical – that was just being pragmatic. Or so he had told himself. Until now. He felt irresistibly drawn to the girl next seat. They had talked for hours – about their favourite books, music, movies, Aamir vs. Shah Rukh, the Illuminati, religion, politics – everything under the sun and he felt like he had just scratched the surface with her. What was more, he wanted to get to know her more. She was a feisty one, who saw in black and white and he knew he would never meet anyone else like her. Think, Arjun, think. He was going to be based in India from now on while she would be going back to England in a couple of months’ time. What then? Further thoughts had to be shelved as the cabin lights came on and the captain announced they would be landing in Chennai airport within the next half hour. Time went quickly as they filled the disembarkation cards, shoved the books back into bags and generally got ready. I got up to go to the loo and generally freshen up. My hair usually has a mind of its own and if left to its own for long, it usually goes into scarecrow mode. There was a mad crowd in front of the loo, with all the granddads and grandmas queuing as if they would never be able to wee once they reach Chennai. Crickey! I am getting tetchy. Get a grip Aarthi, I told myself firmly. I knew what it was – after the time I spent chatting away with Arjun, I thought he would at least ask me my number, make plans to meet up later on. He hasn’t a move to do either and I was getting bitchy. At long last I came back to my seat, clean and calm. I was doing last minute checks, making sure I had all of my belongings in one place, checking under my seat when I heard Arjun ask something. He was so quiet I missed what he said completely and went ‘What?’ ‘Umm, do you mind giving me your number? I would love to keep in touch with you.’

*********

Yes, yes, yes! I was the epitome of cool when I rattled my number for him, though my heart was turning cartwheels inside. We had just finished exchanging addresses when the plane touched down and slowly taxied to a halt. After that it was a mad dash to the exit.Not wanting to be the last in a huge line at the immigration desk, I grabbed my bags and ran to the coach. As I was waiting my bags to materialise, I suddenly realised I hadn’t seen Arjun since I gave him my address. Well, so much for a touching farewell, I thought to myself. All thoughts of my new friend vanished from my head as my suitcase finally came into sight. As it slowly made its way around in the carousel, I cursed myself for stuffing everything I owned into it. It was all very well when bunging things into it – how am I going to get it out without giving myself a coronary in the process, I wondered. Too late for all that now, my dear, I told myself.Taking a deep breath, I was about to grab hold of my case when out shot an arm and grabbed it before me. My yelp died in my throat as I turned to see Arjun standing with the now-familiar grin in his eyes. ‘Were you Michael Schumacher in your previous life or what? You took off like a bat out of hell that I didn’t get a chance to catch up with you till now. And what were you doing trying to drag this monster out of the carousel?’, he asked.All I could manage was a sheepish ‘hee hee’ as he plonked my suitcase in my trolley. ‘Thanks’, I murmured, and got a ‘no problem’ in return. With great flourish, he also executed a bow and went ‘After you, madame’.God, he was a cartoon! We just grinned at each other as we came out of the terminal together. As the muggy air hit me, I turned to look for my family. ‘Good luck to us for trying to find our families in this crowd’, whispered Arjun in my ear. ‘Do you think a celebrity was on the flight with us or what? Look at the number of people here!’ I was just about to reply to him when someone from the crowd pulled at my hair. Even before I realised what, my hand had shot out in reflex and grabbed the offending limb in a Tarzan grip. A loud ‘ow!’ followed and even as Arjun looked on in amazement, I pulled one of my brothers out of the crowd. ‘Two years since she last saw me and first thing she does is break my arm’, complained Ashwin before enveloping me in a bear hug. Ashwath joined us and we stood in a knot with tears pouring out of my eyes. God I had missed the monkeys! Ashwath jumped over the barricade and took over the trolley and we slowly made our way to the car. ‘Hey where are the folks?’ I asked. Surely I merited a bigger receiving committee? ‘They are all at home waiting with the ‘aarathi’ plate. We told them we would pick you up – otherwise there wouldn’t have been any space in the car for you, your bags and the whole clan’, replied Ashwin. ‘That’s true – but how did you leave Soaf at home? Didn’t she make a fuss?’ I was surprised. Our sister – called Soaf by one and all after she tried to say ‘soap’ as a toddler and it came out as ‘soaf’ – was capable of throwing the mother of all tantrums if things didn’t go her way. She was usually as sweet as sugar – until one crossed her. ‘She might be making one now. Who knows?’ came Ashwath’s nonchalant reply. There was something fishy about that and I was about to investigate further when I remembered my new pal. Drat! I had left him there at the airport without even bidding a proper goodbye. He’s sure to think I am a class A scatterbrain. I wondered if he was going to even call me now. Oh well! Too late now and anyways, I could always call him in a couple of days if he didn’t I consoled myself.‘Hey did you get me Toblerone?’ enquired Ashwin as he started rummaging through my bags, bringing me back to the present.By the time I hit the sack that night I was exhausted. My whole family was waiting for us in the lounge, with a furious Soaf in a corner. After the initial greetings, trying to bring her around, fending my brothers off as they upended my suitcase looking for goodies and talking to everyone else, I was absolutely knackered. I took my weary body to the room I used to share with my sister and just crashed on the bed. When I finally came to, it was dinnertime. I just shovelled food down my throat like it was my Last Supper and went back to the Land of Nod.Chapter II Arjun woke up to find the sun streaming on his face. Cursing softly, he got up, intending to scream at his roomie for this latest prank. That was when it hit him – he wasn’t in his apartment in Boston anymore. No more bagels and OJ for breakfast. In fact, the tantalising smell of idli-sambhar tickled his nose and he finished his morning routine lickety-split with visions of idli in his minds eye. He went into the kitchen shouting, ‘Show me the idli’.

His mother was standing at the stove, stirring something that smelled like heaven. He just leaned against the doorjamb, revelling in this simple, domestic scene. Whenever he got homesick in Boston, he would close his eyes and sit back, trying to picture a scene from home to get rid of the uneasy feeling. And every single time, it used to be a scene like this that used to come to his mind’s eye - his mother at the stove, cooking up some delectable creation or another. Picturing her like that somehow made him feel much calmer and better able to handle stuff. Now it felt surreal to realise all he had to do was come down the stairs and there she would be, as he always imagined her to be.
He tiptoed to her and grabbed her from behind with a loud, ‘ammmaaaa!‘. His poor mother dropped the ladle she was holding with a shock and let out a small yell. The sambhar splashed on his hand and he dropped her back with a loud yell. The cat that had calmly sauntered in to cadge some milk off his mum ran out with a loud ‘meiow!’. Within a span of few seconds, there was noise, chaos and mayhem reigning in the kitchen that was an oasis of calm barely a few minutes ago.
His brother rushed into the kitchen, shouting ‘what happened, ma?’, followed closely by their father.
When they saw a sheepish looking Arjun standing with his mother laughing away till tears came to her eyes.
‘Aiyo, anna, you’d never change! Forever upto some monkey tricks or another’, tutted Sri as he walked out of the kitchen along with their father.
‘Silly boy! You scared me so!’, chided his mother, playfully tapping him on the back of his head.
‘Sorry, ma, it just hit me that I am home - forever and ever!’
‘I cannot believe you are here too, my boy! Sit down and eat your breakfast now, before you break anything else!’
‘Yes, ma!’
Six idlies and a quart of sambhar later, he sat back in his chair, sated, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
‘No one can make idli-sambhar like you, ma. Absolutely first class!’
‘hmmm?’ she smiled.
‘Ma, guess what?’
‘What?’
‘I met the girl I am going to marry.’
‘Really? Does she know that yet?’
‘Nah. I just met her.’
‘Know her name at least?’
‘Aarthi. Lit student. Wants to be a writer. Going to work for a publisher in UK. Has two brothers and a sister. All younger. Has major dreams. She has got the most amazing eyes…’
‘Whoa, whoa… I just asked her for her name, da. Here you are, rattling away her whole history. Slow down.’
He grinned sheepishly.
‘I know, I know. Don’t say it. I have to first ask her out, get to know her a bit more, in proper surroundings. Then I shall tell her my plans.’
‘Yeah, that’s right. Do that and get killed for your pains.’ quipped his mum in an amused voice.
‘Well, I don’t mean, tell her, tell her, you know…. I’ll work something out!’, he said with a parting shot, as he walked out of the room.
‘When am I going to meet her then?’, she queried.
‘Patience, dear mother, patience’, came the reply from the other side of the wall.
Shaking her head ruefully, Sujatha wondered about her first-born. When he rang her a few months back and said he was leaving his lucrative job and great apartment and returning home for good, she did feel a bit queasy. Overjoyed as she was to have him back in the fold, she felt there was something disturbing her son and though he hid it well, she was sure he would crack before long and blurt out whatever was wrong, sooner or later. Where she was concerned, her son was useless at keeping secrets. Since the time her was eight years old and learnt the concept of a best friend, she has been his. She still cherished the day when he came back home from third grade class and solemnly told her that she was his best friend. That will always be one of her favourite memories as a mother. Even now when he was 28 years old, she still considered the pair of them to be the best of friends and was confident that Arjun would confide in her before long. With that belief, she put her worries about Arjun aside, took out her plate and started on her own breakfast.

***ring ring*** ‘Ma, phone’, shouted a voice.‘I know, I heard it too. It must be for one or the other of you. Why don’t you get it?’ came the curt reply.***ring ring***‘oi, Ash, get the phone da’, said the Voice. ‘Why don’t you get it?’, was the response.*** ring ring***‘Why can’t someone get the phone, the sound is boring holes through my head. I cannot even hear the dialogues from the TV’, whined another voice.*** ring ring***I decided to put an end to this never-ending saga of pass the phone and picked it up myself. ‘Hello’, it came out a bit breathlessly.‘Aarthi?’ said a voice a bit hesitantly, from the other end. ‘Yes.’ ‘Hi, this is Arjun. Your friend from the skies…’‘Oh hi, how are you?’

About to drink your afternoon cuppa? Don’t! It may well contain more chemicals than your favourite cola brand. Surprised? Well, I was too, after reading this article in TOI.

So our friendly neighbourhood cow is more harmful than the coloured water. Hmm, I have to admit, I really cannot accept that as a fact. Detractors could argue that it could purely be because of all that is associated with milk - milk is almost a synonym for purity, isn’t it? Milk-teeth, innocent as a babe smelling of milk (well, paal manam maara kozhandai, in Tamil), milk of human kindness…, well you get my drift.

The author, in his piece, states that humans are the only beings that drink the milk of other species long after they have been weaned off their mother. While this is true, the statement cracked me up. In my mind’s eye, I could see a tiger cub standing in queue outside a cow shed, patiently waiting his turn. Of course no other species drinks the milk of other animals - the whole argument is ridiculous!

The very idea of giving milk a bad press seems quite crazy to me. So, what is so wrong with milk anyway? If it is the concept of antigens and what nots, then what would happen to all the meat eaters? These days, one can eat anything from a garden variety chicken to zebra or kangaroo meat. Doesn’t that bring in the baddies present in those beings into the human chain? Is veganism the answer then?

When I went on a holiday to Amsterdam a couple of years back with my family, my son happily guzzled down bottle after bottle of yummy cow’s milk (the cows there were huge, let me tell you!) and was happy as Larry! He didn’t touch a single solid food item, barring a few McChips but was none the worse for it cos good ole milk kept his tum full. Now I have this geezer telling me that it is a big no-no!

Let me unravel this yarn and see how far it goes - we say ‘bye bye’ to milk. OK then - next to follow would be curds (I can imagine my granny’s reaction if her daily thayir sadam is taken off the menu!), cheese, chocolates, cream, cakes, doughnuts, pizza.. in short, all that is nice and good in this world! What does that leave out for poor ole vegetarian me? Grass! Great!

But what worries me is not the men, women and children guzzling down milk by the gallons - Lord knows, living in our towns and cities, they would have immunity against almost all of the known and most of the unknown germs as well. I am worried about our Gods who drink milk - they wouldn’t have any protection against pesticide-laced cow juice, now, would they?

Amidst the sea of red, the prancing horses were flying high. The clarion sounded loud and clear while the Ferrari streaked past checker flag. Michael Schumacher had won - for the 90th time! There were the jubiliant crowd scenes as always, popping champagne corks, Jean Todt, cheering mechanics - but something was amiss.

Within couple of minutes though, it became clear as the great man announced that he would retire from motor sports at the end of the year. Though there were rumours going round that Michael was going to announce his retirement soon but things came to a head on Saturday, when he told a packed audience of reporters that he would make a proper announcement after Sunday’s race.

It was Eddie Jordon who spotted the raw talent in Michael and signed up the 21-year old unknown at the 1991 Belgian Grand Prix. Soon enough, he moved to the Benetton team and won the 1994 and 1995 world championship and moved to Ferrari the next year.

Ferrari were an uncompetitive team in 1996; their last driver’s championship was in 1979, with Jody Scheckter. But Michael turned the team around and won his third world championship on a Ferrari in 2000. From then on, he was virtually unbeatable - his best year was 2004, when he won 13 of the 18 races. In fact, he had won the championship in July, after Silverstone!

Schumacher was never far away from controversies. F1 fans will remember the Damon Hill years, when Schumey and Damon went almost head to head more than once. And who can forget the ‘team orders’, when, during the 2002 Austrian Grand Prix, race leader Barrichello was forced to step aside and let Mikey win? There was none more embarassed than Michael on the podium, as he tried to make a stoic Reubens take the podium.

Michael has been called many things and one of my favourite Mikey nick names is ‘rain master’. He is an absolute wizard at driving under wet conditions; though Ayrton Senna had an uncanny ability in this aspect, Mikey’s own is nothing to sneeze at.

His flamboyant style, the trademark jumps in the air post-win, the national anthem conducting styles… all of these will be missed sorely. Though his detractors have called him a poor sportsman for his ruthless attitude on the track, his affection for his mechanics is visible for all to see. Every single time, including the last, after he has won a race, he makes a beeline towards his team of mechanics and hugs every single one of them.

There has never been such a charismatic ambassador for Motor sport and there never will be another Schumacher. And I, for one, would be sad to see him go.

But I hope he goes with a bang, as he deserves to. Here’s to your 8th championship crown, Mikey!