Its 7:30 on a chilly and drizzly Monday morning and I am scurrying to reach the bus stop to catch the earliest possible bus that would take me to downtown Vancouver. I run across slouchy mud and slippery grass to cut through a field escaping a detour which was the road to the bus stop. Though it was supposedly spring the dark overbearing clouds reminded me of Gotham city. Up ahead at the mountains I could see more clouds erupting in angry shenanigans. It was getting uncomfortable by the minute and I really wished I had a car that would have saved me from being exposed to the elements. Walking is not a pleasant experience in this weather and that too when u have to drag yourself on a Monday morning. I looked on to the highway eagerly hoping to see the bus in middle of the incessant traffic as cars and trucks whizzed by. Staring into the time table at the bus stop I realized that I had missed the bus by a whisker. The next bus was not due in another 15 minutes, which was not bad, I consoled myself. What I didn’t know then was that my much awaited bus would never show up and leave me waiting for a bus for the next half an hour at the mercy of the winds which were piercing my cheeks.
Just waiting for a bus was in itself a feat to conquer, to defy nature at its raw best. I had my armor in the form of an all weather jacket and thermal vest inside, which did put a valiant fight against the wind that was battling on. I stood there trying to fathom how the initial settlers would have managed to fend off this extreme weather without the comforts and technology of modern day winter clothing. May be they just had to huddle up around a fire and not wait for a stupid bus that never showed up. At least they knew what they were doing.
It was peak hour traffic on a Monday morning and the inundating flow of traffic on the highway seemed as if the floodgates of the perennial motor world had been swung open. Cars, trucks and four wheel drives, SUV’s you name it, they had it. It felt like a NASCAR run for all shapes and sizes racing away to glory. I just decided to count the cars for there were no stars to while away the time, rather than crap about the rotten bus schedule. I soon noticed that there were more trucks and SUV’s than cars that were zipping the road. And to add to it they were all driven by a lone driver and nobody else inside. What initially seemed to be a silly coincidence soon proved the fact that people in this part of the world certainly did not believe in car pooling. I was really in the land of the lone truck driver….
People were so individualistic that they had to have different cars for different occasions. A truck for his sports and hunting and of course one cannot take their truck to work, so you had to have another six seating monster to drive to work. Carbon taxes and rising fuel prices were still paper jokes that hardly had any effect on reality and the global warming was some sort of horror fantasy which has become a fad these days. I took a deep breath and sighed overwhelmingly at my helplessness to save the world or keep it green. May be there will be a time that people would realize and I hope its not too late coz we are living on borrowed time. If we fail to come up with efficient solutions without raping nature every day to gratify our hedonistic life style, we are doomed for disaster. These fossils fuels are not going to last for long and when we have already resorted to bio fuel these days pushing the yield of farmlands, depleting soil fertility, and deforestation that would eventually take us to severe drought and the end of our world.
I said a solemn prayer for showing us the right path and doing the right thing. The world would be a much better place to live and sustainable only if we were more sensible and without having to splurge nature of her limited opulence. There were so many little things we could do so that many a trickle would make a big difference… so as to say a more efficient public transport and people being keener on doing their bit so that we can save what we have for our future generations to enjoy. I was fighting these thought demons and didn’t see the bus coming until I heard the jarring sound of the bus door open up for me. “Good morning” said the bus driver as I smiled back at him, punching in my ticket, only to find that I had the whole bus for myself!!! Surely I was in the land of the lone BUS driver….
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
An Hour of Penance
Settling into my seat by the window, I was frustrated and irked. The flight from Singapore to Kochi, seemed like the last 100 meters of a long marathon I longed to finish. It seemed long enough for many reasons, for it would be more than six months I had been away from dear ones, and it was more becoming an incidental habit. My leaves were cancelled earlier in the year for want of serving the capital interests of the multinational conglomerate that demanded all hands on board for their champion project, One that was bleeding dry, every one who was a part of it. Stress levels were so high at work that each week brought in new faces as there were more people getting sucked into this black hole of madness of a project that never saw land Ahoy…Those who couldn’t take it anymore moved out or gave up which brought in more fresh hands which served alone to add to the misery… Revised deadlines and new milestones and uncertainty had become commonplace, and no one knew what to expect. My manager had thus approved my leaves on condition, that if the above dozen deliverables could be met within the following weeks, then yes you can have a vacation. A kind gesture he very well knew would never materialize for hundred reasons unknown to himself.
But God was kind enough, over the past two weeks I saw things fall into place like I had wanted to, and I decided to get the first flight out of Melbourne. This left me just a couple of days to gather myself, pack up and fly out to freedom from the relentless drudgery for at least a fortnight. I scurried around the city, shopping to make up the list I had in mind, filling my bags with all I could. When it came to wine, I paused to take my time. Picked a couple of my favorite blends before calling it a day.
After six hours of transit, filled in with some sight seeing and more shopping I was eager to get on that plane that would take me home from Changi airport. I was back an hour before the boarding time, and had already started counting minutes when I got to know the flight was delayed for an hour. Another hour went by not really listening to music anymore which itself felt like a chore. After more than eight hours of flying and a few more hours in transit I felt that I was still under the morbid spell of my workplace, which had its tentacles outstretched from a thousand miles across the ocean.
“Passengers boarding flight number MH… “ I did not hear the rest of the announcement and started moving towards the boarding queue that was slowly shaping up. Once inside the plane, my ireful gaze was met by an eager to please stewardess who approached earnestly, “what I can get, you sir? Beer, champagne or…. I interrupted “Scotch please, on ice and please make that a double”. I was convinced that, I deserved some unhealthy serving of alcohol to ease my frayed nerves. The flight interiors sported a Spartan design, with two big display screens on each side of the walls that formed the end of the fuselage behind the pilot’s cabin, which by the way was the only entertainment option unless you could bother to drag yourself through shopping magazines. Once the plane took off I settled down with my drink, not really caring for what was playing on the big screen up front. With no private consoles to preoccupy myself for the next few hours, I turned to my favorite game in my mobile, which was a simulation of the “Battle of Britain”
Soon I was racing over the English coast, pitting my spitfire against relentless hordes of Luftwaffe’s Messerschmitt. For the next few hours I was absorbed in pushing myself to the next levels, and after a lot of trials, I was there… at the threshold of glory, level 5. Now we were on the offensive over German mainland. I was doing great and my scores confirmed that I was an ace when suddenly I found myself out flanked by a wave of enemy fighters while trying to dodge a barrage of AA fire. Within no time I could see my spitfire go up in flames and screen gleamed “Game Over”. At that very moment the mobile battery gave away with a few beeps and the screen went blank, which felt like some dark omen. My eyes were weary and I was feeling haggard having indulged in that game for a while. I tried to relax but I was too excited to rest because in a few moments I would be home. I was saving all my energy till I would hit the bed after a hot shower, and then sleep my way to glory.
My watch said another few minutes to touchdown, but the plane showed no sign of descent. I looked out of the window in anticipation to see the city lights below, but all I could see was a thick black shroud of nimbus all over. A few more minutes passed by but there was no change in our surroundings or altitude. We were still way too high up to land any time soon. I was getting weary as I could see bolts of lightning crackling through the clouds at a distance. This was not going to be a pleasant ride I said to myself. The weather was getting rougher by the minute and soon I could see jolts of lightning all over. I decided not to look outside and turned over to see how my co passengers were coping. Many were asleep and some were totally ignorant to the fact that we had run into some real bad weather. Unless you really wanted to know what was happening, everything seemed all right. I couldn’t resist myself to peek through the window and every time I did that, it kept my pulse raising. “Oh God, are we into some serious trouble?”. I began to relive those air crash stories I had seen on national geographic and these thoughts were really pushing me over the edge. I decided to act normal and pulled down the window blinds and decided to distract myself. All the travel and the latest excitement had taken a toll, and my energy levels were at a depressing low. I felt drained out and every other minute onboard was turning out to be an excruciating experience.
My anxiety got the better of me and, I opened the blinds to see how we were faring. What I saw next had my heart in my throat. I could see sparks flying off the wing tip and it was raining hard. I thought to myself that I was getting fooled into having delusions out of my own imagination. This couldn’t be happening… I shut my eyes and told myself. But every time I looked outside I could see sparks fly off the wind tip and white streaks of lightning all around with a devilish grin.
“O God, don’t you think I am too young to die?” I started praying with all the purity I could muster. Please God…. It cannot end this way it doesn’t seem fair. Then I had a pricking though that made me look back and reflect all through the way. Have I been fair to God all along? The answer was NO! It was ordained that the faithful shall not drink, never be inebriated or even consume the miniscule drop of anything that may be intoxicating.
God, I have failed myself, and you with my ways and I am really sorry for it. I was trying to be as pious as possible in those last few moments I had left in this world… so I thought. I was too scared even to talk to anyone, let alone reveal the panic and fear that was tearing me apart. It has been more than sixty minutes past the regular flying time and I could slowly see some weary faces across the aisle. So it wasn’t just me. There were a few others who felt the same. But still there were no announcements from the cockpit and the stewardesses were all out of sight. I decided to keep praying to God in the best way I could, asking for all the help I could get now. I felt guilty over the double scotch I just gulped a few hours ago and cursed myself for indulging in it, something I could have easily spared.
A few more terrible minutes passed until the speakers blared, “ Dear passengers, thank you for your patience, as you know we have been experiencing some very rough weather, I glad to announce that we finally have instructions to prepare for landing”. Those words felt like gospel, as if it was God himself telling me that I was spared this time. I thanked God a million times before bracing my seat belt for the landing. Soon the plane was on descent swooping down onto the tarmac like an eagle that had waited long enough for its prey. It was an ecstatic feeling when I felt the rubber hit the tarmac before pulling the breaks. Terra firma….! At last. Captain’s voice beamed again… “ and thank you for flying with us, have a pleasant evening”. I should thank you Capitanoo… A few more minutes like this, and I would have definitely spared your toilet, I smiled to myself with gleeful relief.
There I was back to the country where I truly belong, pushing through the mad chaos to get to my luggage. I was more eager to know the spate of my favorite wine bottles as I was collecting my bags. A great blend of deep red…. Cabernet Sauvignon, and that too… a good year!
But God was kind enough, over the past two weeks I saw things fall into place like I had wanted to, and I decided to get the first flight out of Melbourne. This left me just a couple of days to gather myself, pack up and fly out to freedom from the relentless drudgery for at least a fortnight. I scurried around the city, shopping to make up the list I had in mind, filling my bags with all I could. When it came to wine, I paused to take my time. Picked a couple of my favorite blends before calling it a day.
After six hours of transit, filled in with some sight seeing and more shopping I was eager to get on that plane that would take me home from Changi airport. I was back an hour before the boarding time, and had already started counting minutes when I got to know the flight was delayed for an hour. Another hour went by not really listening to music anymore which itself felt like a chore. After more than eight hours of flying and a few more hours in transit I felt that I was still under the morbid spell of my workplace, which had its tentacles outstretched from a thousand miles across the ocean.
“Passengers boarding flight number MH… “ I did not hear the rest of the announcement and started moving towards the boarding queue that was slowly shaping up. Once inside the plane, my ireful gaze was met by an eager to please stewardess who approached earnestly, “what I can get, you sir? Beer, champagne or…. I interrupted “Scotch please, on ice and please make that a double”. I was convinced that, I deserved some unhealthy serving of alcohol to ease my frayed nerves. The flight interiors sported a Spartan design, with two big display screens on each side of the walls that formed the end of the fuselage behind the pilot’s cabin, which by the way was the only entertainment option unless you could bother to drag yourself through shopping magazines. Once the plane took off I settled down with my drink, not really caring for what was playing on the big screen up front. With no private consoles to preoccupy myself for the next few hours, I turned to my favorite game in my mobile, which was a simulation of the “Battle of Britain”
Soon I was racing over the English coast, pitting my spitfire against relentless hordes of Luftwaffe’s Messerschmitt. For the next few hours I was absorbed in pushing myself to the next levels, and after a lot of trials, I was there… at the threshold of glory, level 5. Now we were on the offensive over German mainland. I was doing great and my scores confirmed that I was an ace when suddenly I found myself out flanked by a wave of enemy fighters while trying to dodge a barrage of AA fire. Within no time I could see my spitfire go up in flames and screen gleamed “Game Over”. At that very moment the mobile battery gave away with a few beeps and the screen went blank, which felt like some dark omen. My eyes were weary and I was feeling haggard having indulged in that game for a while. I tried to relax but I was too excited to rest because in a few moments I would be home. I was saving all my energy till I would hit the bed after a hot shower, and then sleep my way to glory.
My watch said another few minutes to touchdown, but the plane showed no sign of descent. I looked out of the window in anticipation to see the city lights below, but all I could see was a thick black shroud of nimbus all over. A few more minutes passed by but there was no change in our surroundings or altitude. We were still way too high up to land any time soon. I was getting weary as I could see bolts of lightning crackling through the clouds at a distance. This was not going to be a pleasant ride I said to myself. The weather was getting rougher by the minute and soon I could see jolts of lightning all over. I decided not to look outside and turned over to see how my co passengers were coping. Many were asleep and some were totally ignorant to the fact that we had run into some real bad weather. Unless you really wanted to know what was happening, everything seemed all right. I couldn’t resist myself to peek through the window and every time I did that, it kept my pulse raising. “Oh God, are we into some serious trouble?”. I began to relive those air crash stories I had seen on national geographic and these thoughts were really pushing me over the edge. I decided to act normal and pulled down the window blinds and decided to distract myself. All the travel and the latest excitement had taken a toll, and my energy levels were at a depressing low. I felt drained out and every other minute onboard was turning out to be an excruciating experience.
My anxiety got the better of me and, I opened the blinds to see how we were faring. What I saw next had my heart in my throat. I could see sparks flying off the wing tip and it was raining hard. I thought to myself that I was getting fooled into having delusions out of my own imagination. This couldn’t be happening… I shut my eyes and told myself. But every time I looked outside I could see sparks fly off the wind tip and white streaks of lightning all around with a devilish grin.
“O God, don’t you think I am too young to die?” I started praying with all the purity I could muster. Please God…. It cannot end this way it doesn’t seem fair. Then I had a pricking though that made me look back and reflect all through the way. Have I been fair to God all along? The answer was NO! It was ordained that the faithful shall not drink, never be inebriated or even consume the miniscule drop of anything that may be intoxicating.
God, I have failed myself, and you with my ways and I am really sorry for it. I was trying to be as pious as possible in those last few moments I had left in this world… so I thought. I was too scared even to talk to anyone, let alone reveal the panic and fear that was tearing me apart. It has been more than sixty minutes past the regular flying time and I could slowly see some weary faces across the aisle. So it wasn’t just me. There were a few others who felt the same. But still there were no announcements from the cockpit and the stewardesses were all out of sight. I decided to keep praying to God in the best way I could, asking for all the help I could get now. I felt guilty over the double scotch I just gulped a few hours ago and cursed myself for indulging in it, something I could have easily spared.
A few more terrible minutes passed until the speakers blared, “ Dear passengers, thank you for your patience, as you know we have been experiencing some very rough weather, I glad to announce that we finally have instructions to prepare for landing”. Those words felt like gospel, as if it was God himself telling me that I was spared this time. I thanked God a million times before bracing my seat belt for the landing. Soon the plane was on descent swooping down onto the tarmac like an eagle that had waited long enough for its prey. It was an ecstatic feeling when I felt the rubber hit the tarmac before pulling the breaks. Terra firma….! At last. Captain’s voice beamed again… “ and thank you for flying with us, have a pleasant evening”. I should thank you Capitanoo… A few more minutes like this, and I would have definitely spared your toilet, I smiled to myself with gleeful relief.
There I was back to the country where I truly belong, pushing through the mad chaos to get to my luggage. I was more eager to know the spate of my favorite wine bottles as I was collecting my bags. A great blend of deep red…. Cabernet Sauvignon, and that too… a good year!
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