Saloon is the a place where a man learns to know the meaning of Patience. It trains a bachelor to become a patient husband and a patient husband to become a saint.               Yesterday I went to my regular Saloon for a simple haircut. I had to wait for my favourite hair stylist who was busy over the head of another customer.  As I was next, I opted for completion of the rituals on his head. The person was weighing around a century and resembled a bear. I started to browse from the day’s newspaper and continued upto 15 days backwards. Shaving followed the haircut. When I thought of occupying the chair at the finish, my nemesis opted for head massage. I started to bite my nails and just continued to stare at him. I was scolding him in my mind with a lot of ****           The hairstylist poured oil and started to hit, tap, knock and roll his hand. In spite of my simmering, I couldn’t control my smile by seeing his face. His face was contracting and twisting and visibly was lost in seventh heaven. At last when the beautification came to the illogical end, I could only laugh when he opted for facial. He discussed facial creams elaborately with the stylist and settled for fruit cream therapy. Was he going to eat? I got frustrated and asked him directly if he had anything else in his mind. Now welding and polishing his face went on. As it is no use of leaving after wasting one hour, I continued to watch the work.  Another two, three sittings like this, I shall be qualified to join the saloon as a stylist! When the cream was removed I was hoping to see a hollywood actor. Alas! The same hippopotamus emerged amongst the cream and trampled past me with a smile as if to receive the “Miss Universe” award. I could only curse that his wife and family fail to recognise him entirely and disown him for the rest of his life.  

There are many adventurous activities. I want the World Sports body to recognize ‘bus travel in Kolkata’ as one such activity where there isn’t any paucity for thrill, grill and drill. You have to cling on to your dear life till the end.                Overcrowded or jam-packed is an understatement. Friends, you can help me here with an apt word. The word must pack enough pain similar to being crushed by an elephant or grinded by wife! Bachelors will never know.  The buses come so crowded and it will be hardly visible. People will be sticking to it like in Fevicol add. Buses will stop anywhere and everywhere except bus stop. Even if you stifle a yawn with outstretched hands, the bus will stop. But still it won’t be possible to reach the bus as two wheelers and autos cross it on both sides. You have to shout at the conductor like Hindi film heroine who is kidnapped. When the bus stops, some people are ejected and you can see the new found freedom in their faces. An half an hour journey exhausts 750 calories which is equal to 1 hour work out in gym or washing of a week’s family clothes by married men on Sundays. If you board the bus with apple, you will get down with apple juice, without any added preservatives, of course. If you carry coconut, you will get down with coconut oil. If you carry a baby, now don’t imagine things. You won’t get baby oil. Daily I travel a few kms hanging on the bus on some one’s foot or shoulder till I reach the first step. And then I will be sucked inside the crusher.              You don’t have to worry about climbing the bus steps. You will be transported in escalator style. If you land in dark place, then you are in the ladies side, with all that free flowing hair. You have to comb through them as they hate to control the hair. If it is red, then you are in men’s side, with all that paan and black teeth, some people can kill the snakes with single bite. Poor dentists. While ladies compete with each other in eating, men are busy competing in spitting like titanic couple. Actually we must get patent for spitting. I never sit near the window as my seat sharer will eventually spit across my face. I graciously spare the window seats. For that matter I never get seats as the bus owner seems to be hiring people to prevent me from sitting in the bus.              When we ache for air inside the bus like fish out of water, the conductors always shout “Andhar kaali hey”. They must be meaning our heads, for travelling in their buses. With all that sweat, congestion and smell, bofar’s gas will fall on its knees and beg not to pollute it. But we are gas proof.  Tickets are printed on papers taken from shredding machines. Re-recycling, you see.                Buses move at snail pace. You can occasionally drop down for a cup of tea and catch the bus again. Drivers ply the buses like auto, with lots of jerks and rapid turns missing other buses by millimeters. He is the chief trainer who helps to build our muscles by compelling us to hold on. The side effect is we always bulge at the wrong places.                Buses are like chariots. Half of them wooden. With so much daily load, they still move. Now you believe in God, Don’t you?                  I learnt of some conductor vacancies. If  you want after this, forward your resume to me. After all what friends are for!

This was written when I was in Kolkata Customs. 1.    Names are easy to remember (!) here. Half the persons are Bose/Das and  the remaining are Banerjee/Chatterjee. 2.    Foot path is for hawkers. If possible, you can walk also. 2 lakh people are boarding and lodging in the foot paths. No rent, no power, no free space and no hygiene. If you dare to ask them what is hygiene, they will tell it as a new brand of jeans. 3.    Buildings are as old as Santa Claus. Seriously if an earth quake epicenters in Kolkata, half the city will be wiped out in seconds. I am planning to move to foot path. 4.   All trees are occupied by Chai wala or Kali madha. Here tea is served in mud pots. When I asked a chai wala about it, he explained me for five minutes why it is hygiene and how it will not burn my fingers. He was right. I burnt my lips. 5.   State hobby is spitting. They spit, Spit and SPIT. You must wear a rain coat while crossing buses. If fine for spitting is implemented,  Mamta Ma’m can give loan to Centre. 6.   Offices start as early as 12 pm. Some people come early at 11.55 am. Besides talking about foot ball and politics, if possible, they work also. In between 4 tea breaks and 3 snack breaks are the order. Each office has 3 to 4 unions and elections are conducted every year for 11 months. 7.     People eat sweets for food. If you know to make rasagulla and jilabi, come here. you can make a killing. 8.     As the British forgot to take the Tram, its is still running on the roads without passengers. 9.    When people gets bored, they hold a festival. I am seeing 10th pooja in my 5 months stay. Some one is always sitting on the trees to tie and untie the speakers. 10.   ‘Mangal Sutra”, the instrument in which the south film industry hangs on, is not found here. I enquired one of my bengali friend. From that day he is not talking. Curiosity killed a friendship. 11.   Jasmine and Kanahambaram are not seen in this part of the earth. No lady seems to wear any flower. For that sake, they don’t tie the hair even. 12.   People talk, talk and talk. I wonder how they remain without talking for one and half years after birth!   In talking, My friends here can beat women with hands down. 13.   They talk so loud, I am getting echo now a days. Once I told my boss not to tell me twice. 14.    Last week, When my colleagues were discussing some secret matter slowly, I attended a phone call from my wife. My wife immediately asked me “What are you doing in the railway station?” 15.   Roads are always crowded. Every one on the road runs literally. If you have to ask for direction, you have to jog alongwith them. I don’t know why they could not produce good athletes. 16.   People’s G.K is very good. When I asked for direction to East, twice they sent me towards west. As they are aware that the earth is round, They were sure that I will reach east invariably. 17.   They are very proud people. When they collide with you on the road on step on you in the bus, they will never tell sorry. They feel it is their fundamental right. 18.   My working area Kidderpur is famous for pick pockets.   If I happen to touch hands with others, I count and check my fingers. 19.   Any how Kolkata changed my selfish nature. Earlier I wanted to work in Tamil Nadu alone. Now I am ready to work any where other than Kolkata!

Airport corner Yesterday there Was an accident in my house. Not literally.While having dinner, absentmindedly I called “Praba, oru Idly kudu.” My wife came out from the kitchen and asked “Who is Praba?” Then everything went topsy-turvy. Either I should stop calling our airport food server “Prabakaran” as “Praba” or my wife as “Praba”. Well the Idly never came. I was never good at bargaining or marketing. After commanding, advising, cajoling and pleading with the passengers to pay duty for TV in airport now I am trained enough to sell elephants to every housewife.

“Shocking” news… I was in Airport Exit gate collecting Customs declaration forms which is to be submitted by all International passengers on arrival. When I collected the form from a person we both were literally electrocuted. We jumped and stared in utter disbelief. I know I am an electrifying personality but how can this happen? Later My Boss explained that it was static electricity that a body develops during the flight. When they walk without touching any thing I.e busily abusing the dirty airport, incapability of staff etc., they carry their pride and electricity with them and discharge it on the hapless person who comes into contact. Unfortunately that was me on that day. That day I got shock four times. In white uniform Whether I look like a tube light or pole is any body’s guess!? Everyone seemed to be bringing the energy and discharging it on me. I had developed a lot of positive energy. I tried collecting with my left hand, right hand and tray. Not with mouth of course. My Boss mocked “I told you to conduct good and not to be a good conductor”. At the end of day, I had enough electricity to light a bulb. As I would hate people use me for a “mobile charger”, I intend to go like a bomb squad detector in full suit hereafter! It happened on the next day as well. May be this is the reason why I am getting darker daily. At this rate I may soon become a ‘powerful’ man and start attracting people like a Magnet.

winging personality Customs Officer…. At 7 pm –  Feel like a teen while entering the airport.At 11 pm –  Feel like a man on mission while performing the duty.At 3 am   –  Feel like a drunkard while watching the people hurrying.At 7 am   –  Feel like a saint while leaving the airport bereft of any emotion.No need for Sanyas, Bothi tree to attain nirvana.Come, It only takes 12 hours to attain sainthood.

Part I First Night… This was the first year I remained awake for the “Maha Shiv Rathri”. Not of any Nithyananda’s bakthi movement but due to my customs duty. I am posted at Anna Int. Airport and it was my First Night Duty!! I thought of catching one or two smugglers and going to sleep. But in reality, people were vacating foreign nations and returning in my shift. So It turned out to be a nightmare in broad light. Forbidding me from drooping the eyelids for a sec is like forbidding Salman Khan from removing his shirt . I have been a “sleeper cell” with ample sleeping prowess from my childhood. My first fuse invariably goes off the grid around 9 pm. So when I stifled a yawn at 9 pm, My Supdts were shocked and enquired my physical health like “Would I need an ambulance to return?” I countered “Why sir, will the glass panels fall on my head?”. He replied “May be, It always fall at the empty spots.” I could see people of ‘various’ sizes and colours buzzing around. I was the only zombie ‘walking around’. After monitoring at the scanner for sometime, I automatically started to see everything in “Ultraviolet image”. I drank coffee and tea for water and was gliding like “Tom”. In between I had to check some suspects’ bags and underwares!!. These people’s unwashed linens had a worse stench than unwashed toilets. I literally had to run my fingers through them. I am worried of the day, when someone will be handed over to me for extraction of gold which would be in his stomach. Time for baby shitting?! I tried all tricks. Loitered like a pregnant lady every where. Whacked my face. Laughed aloud. Ran on the same spot. Then I went into the office and jumped and jumped like a Penguin. Suddenly my Supdt entered laughing and told “Arey yar, this is a good idea, I try only fast walking”. I washed my face and went to my colleague to know how to remain awake. But he was snoring sitting in the chair. So I went to another one. He asked “Neendhu Aarah?” I replied “What time?” thinking it’s the next flight. He stared at me and told “Go for a walk”. I slowly strolled and woke up all the passengers who were sleeping in their chairs! I talked with the security men, Air hostesses and statues. After 3 am, it was impossible. I felt totally blank and numb, bereft of any thinking or emotion. Why did Buddha waste so many years to achieve this state? I remembered a King who used to sleep with his eyes open. I surfed to find how to get somnambulism ? At 6 am, brain started to function a bit. It was like a year inside the Airport.  After my Kolkata struggle, this must be the time for ‘Zombie walk’. So It’s time to learn either sleepwalking or sleeping while sitting.  Till then…It’s Good Night to the world and Bad Night for me.

Die Another Day The much despised “Second Night” doomed on me and I was ready with War paints drawn in my face. Having briefed of the horrors by me, all my kith and kin hugged and saw me off with tears. It was like sending me again to the Kargil War. Having gone through the fire not like gold but like Thanthooori chicken, I was prepared for the worst. I decided to use my acumen & tackle the bull by its horns ! So I went fully equipped like an amazon tourist or a priest for exorcism. I carried books, Walkman, sudoku, phone games, chocolates and a bed sheet! I went by train to avoid fatigue. Meticulous planning!! I entered the airport with a battle cry to work for a year straight!  After all this is a fight between my body and mind (Reality Vs Myth). 7-11 pm – The time Sailed like Titanic with much fanfare. No yawning too. I, being a sincere person, opened the book “Survive the Night” by Danielle Vega. It started as “We are all gonna die down here…” I closed the book. 11-01 am – Technical snag. I went to the quiet scanner room. When I sang some cinema songs, I heard them as lullabies. Hence the eclipse started. I was getting drowsy. Drank tea and coffee alternately. Started doing exercises yet it was downhill from there. 02- 04 am – Slowly every sense switched off. Zombie walk, nirvana state returned. I felt like being in an endless dream in which I was working night shift and dreaming. If there is one thing, I can feel proud of, it’s my sleeping skill which I can do this with my eyes closed. It seems Modi Govt has privatised that too. When I came out people were going to work and I was going to sleep like owls and bats. All the Government employees are martyrs. People are yet to realise this !!! I finished a quick breakfast or dinner whatever you call it with a single ambition in life i.e to sleep. My body clock is so cracked that I am spitting nuts and springs. I don’t know the date or day anymore. Signing off with an assurance that “No more plans” or “No more cries about Night”!  With sincere thanks to Airports Authority of India – For arranging the flights throughout the night and Chai wala- serving beverages disdainfully. With out their help, this wouldn’t have been possible! Good night.  

Words of Wisdom Part I. * Mother brings you to the earth.  Wife sees you off from the earth. * Mother will be happy to see you calling everyone as ‘Mother’  Wife won’t be happy to see you calling everyone as ‘Wife’. * Mother beats you to make you a man.  Wife beats you to make you ‘Her Man’.  Ultimately you are the target practice for both. * Mother sees you as a delivery boy of groceries and uses for outside work.  Wife sees you as a servant for inside job like peeling onions, garlic, washing and   cleaning. Personally   I like peeling onions as no one can tell why am I crying. * Mother accepts you for what you are.  Wife mends and bends you for what she thinks you are. * Mother drives two men crazy due to experience.  Wife is wholly devoted to drive one man crazy. * Any mistake with mother lasts ten minutes flat.  Any mistake with wife lasts as long as she can remember and torment you. * Mother motivates you towards your ambition sentimentally.  Wife pricks you in the butt to run for life. * Our words of heat are absorbed and extinguished by mother.  Our Words of heat ricochets off Wife with double the vigor and we are   extinguished. * Every mother thinks that there is only one best son and she got him.  Every wife thinks that there is only one best husband and neighbour’s wife got him.

 In Tamil Nadu, Sunday means non-vegetarian. As all the families prepare non-veg on this day, the morning air is filled with 90% chicken gravy and 10% oxygen. It’s smell will lift up your spirit and send you for hunting the prey.           So week starts from Sunday in my house as well. That’s when we swallow a goat or chicken and are reborn to face the ordeals of the following week. While all days are marked for leftovers, Sundays bring back the original. Planning of menu starts before 1 or 2 days. Sometimes while swallowing on this Sunday, we plan for next Sunday! Having descended from an orthodox family of devouring meat on Sundays, the mood sets in Saturday itself. Depending on the zealotry or obsession, I select the prey and menu, either chicken or mutton, Chicken leg piece or Mutton leg piece, Chicken tikka or Mutton chukka. Occasionally crab walks in or fish is caught. I go to my regular shop as he gives preference over other craving men. Like good citizens, we too talk about the goodness in vegetarian food and the deleterious impact of broilers. In the case of Fish, its freshness will lift your mood. In Chicken, the fragility and texture will please you. In mutton, One must select its body parts tastefully. Here I have a regret that we don’t have much choice like Chinese who thrive on anaconda, octopus and whatnot. It is always heartening to watch your food walk and squeak. With a lot of guilt I point my finger towards the quarry. I always pray to its soul to scold me but not spoil the taste. It keeps eating up my conscience till it reaches the tongue. The moment it is brought, festive atmosphere will set in. The most annoying part is waiting for its crispy and spicy completion. Of course I don’t dance around the fire like a cannibal but scroll, sit and wander around the house like a pregnant woman. The aroma draws us towards the kitchen like Jerry towards the cheese. The whole family will be on the table expecting the roasted families. When fish, chicken, crabs, eggs and mutton are served on the table, I can’t control my sob. Trust me, this is the reason why people tell you to love animals.          One thing I want to ascertain you is that we are not the descendants of Vampires or Drakulas.              Save Plants! Eat animals!!