My 3-Day workshop

One fine day, alright alright… I don’t remember the weather that day. So one day I decided to join a Workshop for SNAP at some classes at Andheri. It was a 3-day workshop. And as usual I joined it and paid the fees at 5:55 pm when the classes were to start at 6 pm the same day!! A practice of doing things at the last minute when roots from to Engineering days…


Day 1:

I sat besides a podgy guy. He was like an orange. If you have seen an orange analytically from all dimensions, you will realize that it is one whole body, without any divisions. It’s one continuous stream of orange plasma. We became instant friends for our common interests in SNAP and later more so for our like attitude towards MyFHM AND MySHF if you know what I mean. Then I saw a girl on the first bench and I was bewildered! She was black, thin with her hair. She was wearing a fluorescent tank top and black jeans.

We were told to introduce ourselves. Our professor asked the guy on the second bench though Prachi (her name is not Prachi and why Prachi- I will come to it later) was sitting on the first bench. As usual the guy started introducing himself in accented English. It’s a proved fact that Indians automatically gain a fake English accent when told to introduce themselves in public. I was thinking why the professor didn’t start with my girl. Err the girl on the first bench.
Prachi is the universal name I and my friends have given to hot girls. Whenever I and my friend see a ‘Daav’, ’item’, ’mall’, ’bomb’, ‘babe’… we look at each other and say “Prraaachi” in unison and smirk.


Day 2:

Again she was on the first bench when I entered. She was wearing a white kurti that day. I thought of sitting next to her but I cursed myself of not doing so later as I sat next to my good friend-Orange.
As the lecture started, I was bored… I was finding the empty plastic bottle and the clutch on Prachi’s hair more interesting. I was just thinking about her dressing style, her earrings, her hair, her smiles on our professor’s poor jokes, etc. and I even concluded from my observations that our honeymoon (I wish) will be great. Though she wasn’t so fair and lovely, she was too dark and gorgeous to resist.

Then our professor gave us a ten minutes test. It was nice and he was asking our marks at the end of 10 minutes. I noticed that my honey wasn’t solving anything in those 10 minutes. May be my love isn’t so smart…. Then it will be a winning combination since I am always attracted towards less IQ girls (no points for guessing my Lappy is full of Blondes). That professor didn’t ask her marks. That day I came back home and was loudly singing love songs like “Kuch toh hua hai…. Kuch ho gaya hai…” and putting my one leg high since I believe it helps me hit high notes.


Day 3:
It was the day of action. It’s now or never. It’s a “DO OR DIE” situation. I didn’t want to say “KAAASH” in my entire life-time (Like Johnny lever in Chalte-Chalte). I left from my place with a plan. I am going to sit besides her. Talk to her about which colleges is she applying (for starting a conversation). Ask her name and get her cell number with advanced Formula number 456 to 475 whichever is most suitable at that moment.
Plan B: If the place adjacent to her is occupied, sit behind her or as near to her as possible but if get her number anyways. Plan C: if unable to get her number. Get her notes to study (ha ha) after the class so that I will have to return her and I get her number and I aint an amateur as I sound. I told myself “Dhaval, You can do it and you will have to do it”.

I entered the class. She was sitting as usual on the first bench. I was about to sit besides her when I heard my name”Dhavalll. come here”. It was saala bloody orange. Now I can’t sit on the first bench (That was what I thought at that moment). And I sat next to Orange. Now it was time for plan C. I will have to ask her for her book after the class. But I thought this may back-fire since she seldom writes anything and she may refuse to give the book. She may even give me a dose of Ju-jitsu, savate, karate, kung-fu or parliamentary behaviour. After another hour of sleep, the lecture got over. I was thinking of a better one liner when I suddenly noticed that there was no one on the first bench. I ran outside the class but there was nobody on the large corridors outside. I asked orange about the black girl. He laughed and said there was no girl in our batch. I asked another guy. He said the same. I was out of my psyche.

Then on the way back to my home I was remembering the first time I saw her. I still remember her face. But Ya, the professor didn’t ask her for an introduction, she didn’t solve during the test, the professor didn’t ask her for her marks. She was just s figment of my imagination.


So this was the numinous experience that I had during my 3-day workshop.

A LINE ….

A single line is what we see on the map. It said ‘this is India’ and that is Pakistan. The line that was made more than fifty years ago not only changes geography but also relationships. The partition was a painful and significant act. I was born to witness it but the imagination leaves me scared and pained.

Imagine. Think. Think about the day when our leaders sat in a beautifully furnished room deciding the destiny of … Indians? Or Pakistanis? No, I would say, of ‘us’.

Think about the reactions of the common people and friends sitting at tea-time when they are told this was the last tea they shared together!! Think about the violence, riots and brutal murders, trains that transported humans like cattles and goods. Think about the families that were given only twenty – four hours to pack up everything they had and leave behind their motherland.

How sad and tragic for joint families to separate, for brothers to go apart, for students to leave their college, for women to leave their homes, for children to leave their friends, for innocent eyes to witness the murders of their neighbours by the same people who were once their friends.

And for the people who were left behind? They could do nothing but cry accept the reality. They stood on their terraces, shocked and confused, staring dumbly at the huge caravans fleeing to their respective new nations. They watched them go until the passages were empty. The roars and screams were over, many sleepless nights came to an end, and the flow of blood streams came to a stop.

And what was left was empty space, a canvas coloured by patches of blood, tears, and shattered dreams. What was left was a long list of undelivered messages, incomplete families, missing brothers and sisters. What was left behind was A LINE.

One side shouted proudly:” we are independent Indians; the winners”. The other side shouted:” we are the winners of our independence”. But under those empty claims, they knew they were defeated. The line marked the defeat… a defeat of humanity.

poem....

ME!!!!


What I am not
Is that part of me
I am trying to be
Though it never seems to help me.

Afraid of myself
Is what I am
As I want to see me
Through other eyes

Can’t I just be
What I want to be
Unbeknownst of
What others see.

10 lines to insult

1. Are you always so stupid or is today a special occasion?

2. I'd like to kick you in the teeth, but why should I improve your looks?

3. At least there's one thing good about your body. It isn't as ugly as your face!

4. If I had a face like yours. I'd sue my parents!

5. Don't feel bad. A lot of people have no talent!

6. Keep talking, someday you'll say something intelligent!

7. He is dark and handsome. When it's dark, he's handsome.

8. He is so short, when it rains he is always the last one to know.

9. I can't seem to remember your name, and please don't help me!

10. Do you practice being so much irritating

THE NEW PRESIDENT

So, we are so happy that at last someone from us(!) has become the president of the most powerful (?) nation of the world! Ya I m talking about Mr. B.Obama….. The Asians and Africans settled in the US of A are one of the happiest on the victory of Obama.

But aren’t we so called “dark” people too acting racist? According to a survey about 90% Asians and Africans rooted for Obama just because he was black!

We were so happy to blame jade goody when she gave racist comments to Shilpa though the scenario has changed after time killed that subject.

(And she almost had an one-day-image-makeover-session at the bigboss…)

we were so angry on the security guards of Angelina Jolie for some racist comments!!!!(remember?)…

I wonder why no one is calling this racism! (may be because here the callers are themselves acting racist?)

Can racism be only by white against black?