Those were the days

I was home for a long (really long) time… and when you are home for so long, after a certain point of time life gets boring. I mean, how much can you sleep or watch TV or walk your dog? So was my case. In the meanwhile, I thought of clearing up my old boxes.
I opened the first box and the first thing I saw, filled my heart with memories of my past. It was a slam book from my school (7th school out of 9 schools). It was signed by all my “good friends”, “bad friends”, “okay friends”, “hated friends” and “teachers” (that’s how I had categorized them). C’mon, we were kids and had no clue of maturity. Speaking of no maturity, those were the days when, without any rhyme or reason, a girl and a boy would be linked up for reasons like “They both blush when around each other”, “They both come in the same school bus”, “They both study together”, etc. And then, next thing you know, the girl would tie a Rakhi to the guy. That’s the reason half the school would remain empty on Raksha bandhan.
That was the time when everyone had a secret crush and would admire secretly. But when caught admiring, would pretend like it’s a huge misconception. They would then write his name in books (at least girls do that) and then play those games where you check your compatibility level (I think it’s called FLAMES). First crushes are always memorable. Even I had a “First crush” and then second, third, fourth, and don’t remember how many.
One of the most heartwarming belongings that I found in “The box of recollections” was my school diary. It had the school prayer printed on the first page, pledge on the second and some torn pages (I think those were the messages from my school teacher for my parents). It also had a daily “Time-Table” printed on the last page, out of which Games period, SUPW period and Lab sessions were highlighted and decorated. I remember how our preferences of days would depend on our time table. I always preferred Saturdays because we had 2 games period. We were supposed to wear PT shoes on days we had our games period. I would spend hours to neatly polish my shoes white, which would take just few hours on the play ground to get sunken under layers of dust (before even the assembly could begin) and no one would believe me when I stood in the “Untidy Uniform” line.
We had 2 such lines “Late comers” and “Wrong Uniform”, which included long nails, untidy uniform, wrong socks, wrong shoes, wrong belt, wrong ribbons, long hair not plated, short hair not clipped, etc. leaving no scope for me to escape. That’s the reason; first period was attended by just a handful while the rest of the students would be kneeling down in the sun. I started enjoying these sessions, when I was amongst the cabinet members and would punish students (even though none of the younger students ever listened to me). They would give me chocolates and I would let them go (of course, without getting it to Srikanth’s knowledge)
Talking about coming late to class, I also used to enjoy decorating the “Bulletin Board” and writing “Thought for the day”. That ways, I could waste another 15 minutes of class. By the ways, teachers always hated such students, who would take up such voluntary work. They always thought students did that to avoid attending their class. (I wonder what made them think that?)
I also found “My personal Diary” in the box. Which was so personal, that it had a “Danger” sign drawn on the cover. I would carry it with me everywhere till the time I realized how “kiddish” was the stuff written in it. It had all the names of people I knew, Things I liked about them, People I hated, along with reasons to hate them. One of the reasons, I hated a person was “Simply”. It also had some of my best moments and some of the worst moments. Apparently, my best moment was when I secured full marks in Social Studies and I hate watching, small puppies roaming on road without their mummies.
Then, during the end of every year, sale of autograph diaries would increase. People would start filling up each other’s diaries, like they are never gonna meet each other again. In some cases it would be true but in some it was just out of excitement of filling an autograph diary and feeling important. Everybody would fill up everybody’s’ diary (even if we had not spoken to each other) and then girls would group up and read what their secret crush had written in “About me”, “Hobbies”, “Best Friends”, “Lines about you”, “Why I like you”, “Why I dislike you”, etc. People would buy colorful pens to fill up diaries. Those were the best times.
Those were the times when we could hang out with friends for hours without realizing the time, but when it came to sitting with guests at home, our stomach would start aching. Those were the times when we could hear music from 20 blocks away but would become deaf to a yelling mom in the next room. Those were the times when “getting high” meant “ on a swing”, when “drinking” meant “apple juice”, when “dad” was the only “hero”, when “love” was “mom’s hug”, when “dad’s shoulder” was the “highest place on earth”, when your “worst enemy” was “your sibling”, when the only thing that could “hurt” were “skinned knees”, when the only things “broken” were your “toys”, when “goodbyes” only meant “till tomorrow”.
I found something interesting to put up here: Life means: A winter evening, four friends, mild rain, four cups of tea. Life means: Hundred bucks of petrol, two rusty old bikes, and one open road, Life means: Maggi noodles, a hostel room, 3:25 am. Life means: 1 preparatory leave, 1 night, 1 book and 8 duffers. Life means: 3 old friends, 3 separate cities, 3 coffee mugs and 1 internet messenger. Life means: 1 girl, 1 number, 4 friends and a fight.

Winters in Summers

When the rest of the country is sulking with the killing heat, I am in the part of the country where survival of a South Indian would be difficult without heaters and sweaters. Even though I belong to Jammu, I would rather call myself a South Indian since I have spent all my life in this part of the country (Courtesy my Dads’ Profession and now my Job).
If you are a South Indian and reading this, chances are you will not understand because you have never seen a winter.

If you are a North Indian, you probably know what winter is all about but don’t know how it impacts a South Indian…so read on. The Western & Eastern Indians can just sit and watch.
As I was saying, having stayed most of my life in Hyderabad, Pune and Mumbai, winter isn’t easy.
Back in Mumbai nobody would speak of the weather. People calling you wouldn’t ask: “So, how is the weather?” for they would know the answer. The only reason why winter wear sells in Mumbai is because of the very low A/C temperature in Movie halls, Offices and Shopping Malls. Office is the only place where I get to show off my lovely Blazers. It is not to say that Mumbai doesn’t have four seasons – It has hot season, more hot season, most hot season and then the most hot and humid season.
Here in Wellington (Yes there is a place called Wellington in India too, near Ooty), we have the summer (which is as cold as winters in Pune), winter, autumn and spring. Spring is the season from May onwards till August when the working class springs from one company to the other after a not-so-good appraisal.
Anyway, a week back when I decided to come home to Wellington, I could have never imagined in the wildest of my dreams that I would need to pack my warm clothes in April. Soon when I landed here, I realized that it was winter.
I can cope with winters, especially when there are heaters in every corner of your house and doors are shut so tight that no clod wave can dare touch you. But the main issue is taking bath. How could one take bath when the outside temperature was as low as 11 degree Celsius? Back in Mumbai, I used to take bath twice (morning & evening) but here, it is becoming a challenge.
I even tried putting on the heater 24X7 but hot water baths aren’t good either because after wiping ourselves dry, we would freeze in the cold.
After two failed attempts, I stopped taking bath. I don’t stink yet because it has only been a week. If it gets colder and I can’t think of any alternatives to bathing…I plan to stock up Rexona’s Winter Cool before its price goes up. In case you didn’t know, demand for deodorants goes up in winter (and one thought sweating was less in winters!).
Apart from the freezing cold, this place is heaven. Its like a fairy land (only the fairies are missing) with greenery spread like a carpet feasting your eyes, clouds so low that they sweep into your house, land so colorful as if its been gardened for years. I am attaching a picture below as a support evidence.