Down south so far

“Chennaaai !!! Dude you’re going to be so dead” declared a friend confidently as I indifferently informed where my professional standards were chartered to. Learned pessimisms were shot, to kill me in Delhi itself, from all and sundry including even those who never had crossed Vindhyas once. Diverse set of warning were offered, from an expected "It’s so Hot there" to challenging "The Language will deafen and dumb you" to even epitaphs as "May your libido rest in peace", from each according to his personal concerns. 

Ironically, the more people pushed to dispirit me, the further determined I turned to enjoy the Chennaite stint. Libido issue was bothersome, but given Delhi too did not turn to be a place for restlessness down south, I overcame that. And I overcame other pity concerns citing to others in a self assuring tone, that how great a recluse I am and Chennai will be all peace and solitude. I even re-read 'English, August', the story of a troubled IAS trainee in an obscure spot in Tamil Nadu, this time with the aim to criticize Sen at every complaint, to ensure that the problem was with the spoilt brat and not Madna.

Finally, with “Unity in diversity” & “Vasudhev Kutumbakkam” as my guiding mantras, silently recited on loop, I stepped in Chennai. For my acquired karmyogi’s mindset, prepared for all the adversities in the entire universe expecting nothing in return, even a smiling ‘Namaste’ from a semi-Hindi-speaking-pure-Tam-taxi-driver (a rare species) felt bliss. The hour long ride with ‘Anna’ paralleled a talkathon, where discussing Rajni, Rehman and R.Ashwin  I appreciated in depths the immense indulgence in entertainment of an average Indian and its benefits for national Integration . The next 10 days at company accommodation was a grand stay with royal treatment, a pleasure due since 6 years given the name of my graduation hostel was “King’s palace”.

They say after summit the journey ahead is all downhill. They weren’t lying, not to me. Right out of the palatial stay the kings were reduced to nomads, abhorred by an entire class-community called 'Flat owners', for they were ‘not-religiously-entitled-to-have-sex’ (read bachelors) and hence devoid of even the least possibility of a civilized existence, a mythical correlation which some regression analyst should try discard. Even an hour long telephonic interview with a prospective owner, where we pledged to stay away from any pleasure of flesh, both literal and figurative, went disappointing as the established conviction said “bachelors are unhygienic species”. Anyways just before its infant death, the sinking optimism curve met an asymptote and ever since we are engaged in settling down, which given the pace might extend till infinity.     

Looking back, the Chennaite stint has already transformed me a lot as a person. I have parted ways with unsound chauvinism and no longer regard an umbrella unmanly, given the heat and consequent tan. The local food, and the serving manners, took my appetite to abysmal depths and my buckle to long forgotten holes. My tolerance knows no boundary thanks to the auto rickshaw union which has raped both my frugality and sense of justice at the rate of Rs 30 per Km, recurrently. "Aaiyyoo" no more sounds funny and I no longer feel distraction of youthful aspirations, as 'PYTs' are hard to find and even when discovered are so uninviting that one mischievous signal and their fathers might be chasing you.   

Anyways, as I said, I came here seeking peace and solitude, as in it’s a poor man’s Himalayas. I have been offered both but unfortunately with a tinge of loneliness. While you are concerned that you got to do more in life and are trying hard to motivate and push yourself for that extra mile, the city in its laid back attitude, nudges you and says “Relax!! Why so impatient? There is more in life than you think”, but offers little choices. The simplicity of its people, their modest way of life and the pride in their culture all interlock perfectly yet as in a jigsaw puzzle with a missing piece somewhere there is a void left, blemishing not only the image but creating a hole in you as well. Combination of inner void and restlessness, a fertile ground for fruitful dissatisfaction. While I raise my dissatisfaction quotient I am already into creating an alternative universe, seeking worthy pseudo intellectual existence, through active self indulgence and wandering thoughts scribed all over my walls, searching what I should be, whoever that is.      

A newlywed, bachelor

I vividly recall how at the end of graduation, when the first among us was leaving college for that one final time, we playfully farewelled him on the tunes of “Babul ki duwaein leti ja, ja tujhko sukhi sansar miley”. Back then it was merely a cover up performance, shielding defenceless emotions from vulnerable exposure, underneath a cloak of humour. Now, couple of years down the lane, through a new joiner’s perspective, retrospectively, it echoes back as a fairly fitting farewell song, cause the resembling parallels observed portray a first time new joiner analogically much closer to a newlywed bride. And to quench your ‘How so?’ I have reasons in plenty raining ‘how not?’. Take a small leap of imagination and may be you can appreciate few of the following similarity linking him and her.


Like her he too has recently departed a long cherished world of carefree existence, he once thought he was born into for forever. Like her he too has entered a new world which he and his parents long dreamt of for him, but yet the incongruity there creates longing for past. Like her he too is given a short honeymoon period for transition full of care, co-operation and travel, but soon like her he too is fettered in the new status with customary behavioural role play, which once he so objected. Like her he too is welcomed as a special member in the family only to be placed at the centre of in depth analysis by the older residents, who judge, appraise and ridicule consistently in course of authority imposition.

Like her he too is to carry a tag, an albatross around his neck, signifying his fidelity as a committed employee and existence as being taken. Like her he too gives up outfits depicting randomness of young imaginations and is restricted to a dress code marking a reluctant acceptance of a force-fed maturity. Like her he too is no longer a freewheeling individual but a faceless stoic tangled in the labyrinth of permissions, shift timings, project deadlines and no-tailgating gateways, all manoeuvring his time and motion.

Like her his last world too, matters only as a training centre for the new world and any other memory is to be kept to his private self. Like her he too sweats entire day closely scrutinised, impatiently waiting for the relishing night for private moments of pleasure. Like her he too is expected to adopt immediately, perform faithfully, live loyally and the biggest anticipation of all ‘ to “deliver” soon and help the new world grow.

Sadly a sharp contrast being, she gets laid to deliver and he is laid off on failing to do so, and further in such situations only his pain is devoid of any pleasurable stir.

PS: Since you reached this far you have all the rights to abuse the absurdity of the giant leap of imagination. :D