I have always had nothing but dislike towards auto-drivers. This extended to cab drivers, once they took over the roads of Hyderabad. I once got laughed at by a cab driver, for letting him overtake me following all non cabbie legal traffic protocols. I sympathise with their need to maintain timing and timing sheets with all the quality control seeping into their operations as well. But driving recklessly is no just means to achieving that.
An acquaintance of mine is currently struggling for his life after being hit by a cab while crossing the road today. From what I hear, the doctors have all but given up. Miracles. Well this is the time for them. I am hoping against hope that he makes it.
Update : Miracles don’t always happen. RIP HV.
The best road advice I ever got was from an old auto driver. We had missed our bus and got into an auto. The driver was a hefty old man with a long white beard. It was one of those exam days and we were going through the pages one last time. The auto was moving at a steady pace. It was early in the morning, and with empty roads, we could have possibly gone faster. So I asked him to do so , as we were getting late for the exam.
His reply :
Koi jaldi nahi hai. Road pe sirf do waqat tezi se chala sakthe. Jab kisi ka accident hua ho aur use haspathal le jaana ho, kyun ki tab ek jaan ka maamla hai. Doosri, jab ek bacche ka janam dene ke liye ek maa ko haspathal le jaana ho, kyun ki tab do jaanonka maamla hai. Baaki sab ke liye duniya ruk sakthi. Exam hii tho hai. Fir se likh le sakthe. Koi jaldi nahi hai.
( There is no hurry. There are only two reasons for driving fast on road. One, when you have to take an accident victim to the hospital, because one life is at stake. Two, when you have to take a pregnant woman to the hospital for delivery , because two lives are at stake. The world can stop for everything else. Its just an exam. You can always take it some other time. There is no hurry )
Prologue : This blog does not care for the feelings of Thalimpu Reddy. This is my version of a story that had been told to me and many others, in the first person. This post is purely, a practice of vendetta against him as I have had to bear the brunt of his TRIES in this nation. I have already done enough to shut him up with due help from extremely disgruntled and cooperating friends in the town of Gainesville. But then after all, Yeh Dil Maange More.
There was a time when Thalimpu Reddy went by one of the common names of a Hindu God, whose IUPAC equivalent is the Sun. This is a story of the times when our Thalimpu Reddy, was in school. He was, as he is now, very much pretending to be the goody goody boy. He was , as he is now, failing miserably at that. Well, almost. Because there was one person, who felt otherwise. That person bought his story.
Considering the frailties of the anachronistic memory of the author, this story can be dated to the season of 2000-01 with a tolerance of one year towards negative time. This was the time when our hero used to go to school with his cousins. It so happened, that none in his class bought his theory of goodygoodyness, but as it so often happens, he was proposing it to the wrong audience. In his cousin’s class, there was this innocent dame, who got enthralled by this theory and got deeply involved with it. Her mind started weaving stories ( just like this one ), and started taking genuine interest in Thalimpu Reddy. But then again, which gullible female, who ended up having a good opinion about him, would not want a tall, dark and handsome hunk to be her knight in shining armour.
And so started the series of short sightings. Short, since the boundaries of classrooms was becoming a serious barrier for her. She could not get to see him for much of the time in school. Our hero, even went off home for lunch, which seriously reduced her chances. But this girl was very determined and made every effort to see him. Mind you, there wasn’t any talking as yet. Ah the pleasures and pains of teenage love! One sight of the beloved and the heart fills with joy. Her only way of getting in contact with him was his cousin in her class and use that way she did. Our hero, too involved in getting more believers to bite into his theory, was totally oblivious to all of this. Why? Well, we all know why.
These mini meetings and small talk was not getting her anywhere. She for one, wanted to pour her heart
to him, but couldn’t. From all that she had learned Children’s Knowledge Bank Volumes 1 - 6, Bollywood songs and Tollywood movies, it was very clear to her that he was expected to start the confession/ proposal. She took her time, tried every little way possible, to let him be aware of her feelings without actually doing it. But, it was Thalimpu Reddy, and for people who know him well it is common knowledge that there are certain things even when directly told, with absolutely no allusions , still do not attract his attention ( further stories on this in the very distant future ).
There came a day, when she decided that she couldn’t hold it any more and that she had to express her feelings. She decided upon penning a letter, as she knew she would not be able to face him and tell it. Fair play I say. The letter reached our hero via the obvious postperson, the cousin.
It is every schoolboy’s dream that he have a beautiful girl as his girlfriend. Not so much for the possible love, care , attention and the related melodramatic crap. No. That never matters does it. It is for the sheer pleasure of “Neighbour’s Envy. Owner’s Pride”.
Got sidetracked there a bit. Yeah , our hero got the letter. Thrilled to bits was he? No.Since he was the prophet of goodygoodyness, he decided that he was not part of the every schoolboy clan described in the previous paragraph. He was scared as hell. He saw this as a possible blot on his theory and that this could seriously damage his ( non-existent ) good boy image. She was seeing this as a lifelong commitment. He was seeing this as a battle. He sent message through emissaries( who else but the cousins ) and called for a meeting.
So on one fateful evening after school hours, the meeting began. For her, it was an opportunity for a prolonged sighting and possible exchange of pleasantries by word and not blink. Little did she know of what was in store for her and how life changing it would end up being. Thalimpu Reddy, started talking. Not one pleasant word from him. He started shredding all her dreams that she had built up over these days. Infatuation it was, that we all agree, but in one ruthless speech involving words such as education,career, future, parents,culture, morals, RSS, principal, curd, lassi and buttermilk, he ruthlessly shattered all the enthusiasm , all that could have been, in one go. She wept. Well that was all she could do then.
Days passed by. She still wept. Every right she had to that. That was the least she was entitled to do, as further efforts to contact him through emissaries or even eye-talk to him were repeatedly turned down.
And they lived happily ever after, separately.
Epilogue : This blog still does not care for the feelings of Thalimpu Reddy. But it cares for that girl and is sympathetic towards her and all that she endured in the times described in the story and the times left out of the story.
Notes : Due to repeated re-telling of this story, many discrepancies have entered the actual story. Pepsi Blue or Chota Pepsi were not contemporary drinks, as research suggests that Pepsi Blue was released in India as a special edition drink sold only during the ICC Cricket WC 2003 and 200ml Chota Pepsi bottles were introduced during 2002.
There are many words that we use to get someone’s attention. Hello. Boss. Babu. Deii. Oreii. Saale. The list goes on. But there was this lecturer who called out “Yourself” . The uniqueness of this way of addressing students was more because of the choice of such a banal word to such effective (ab)use.
( apologies to non-telugu viewers. it may not make sense )
Scene : Typical post-lunch undergrad classroom.
The trouble starts when the last bench guys, instead of conforming to the set standard, decide not to sleep but actually listen to the class.
Guy1 : Hey Girl1. Why is he writing the code that way re . Makes no sense to me re.
( The guys got fed up with the girls using re. So they were applying some kind of reverse psychology theory , which in the long run was not successful )
Girl1 : Shut up and go to sleep. Don’t disturb me.
Guy2 : Arey Girl2 give your notes na re.
Girl2 gives her notes.
The other last benchers, Guy3 and Guy4, join in and everyone huddles around that book. Guy1 still couldn’t control his itch and tried getting a detailed explanation from Girl2.
Lecturer suddenly turns away from the blackboard, interrupting the parleys he had been having with it since the start of class, and comes pounding towards and the last bench and yells : Yourself!!! Hey You. Niike cheppedidhi ( referring to you only ) . What is all that nonsense. Nuvvena appatnunchi matladedhi ( So it is you who has been talking all this while ).
Guy1 standing up : No Sir. I had a do..
Lecturer : Shut up I say. Always talking something or the other. Koncham sepu kooda class sarigga vinaru ( you don’t listen properly to the class even for some time).
Guy1 : Sir I had a doubt sir and I was trying to ask notes. Why are you writing that way in the behavioral model Sir?
Lecturer : Anni kathale. Nenu last week ae idhe nenu otthi otthi cheppa. ( All stories. Last week only i stressed upon ( PRESSED ) this )
Guy5 : Miiru otthinappudu vaadu choodaledhu saar. ( He did not see when you were pressing Sir )
Lecturer : !!!!!!!!!!!
Class : :)) =))