Tailgating

No one ever gave me directions like this, Anuja thought as she heard this for the nth time from Sunil, "stay in your lane and maintain the speed limit." Sunil was a thorough back seat driver. He would not spare any opportunity. Anuja seethed with anger when he spoke non-stop as she drove, telling her how to drive.

"Incorrigible Sunil." She muttered under her breath. "But that car behind me is honking, let me take care of this." Said Anuja as she changed the lane. But she was not careful enough, the car in her blind spot honked and as it overtook her, she saw 4 angry faces in the car.

"We could have been killed." Sunil yelled, "what is up with you." Anuja knew that this would be replayed to her every time she drove in Sunil's presence. And that was it.

"What is with you, why are you not listening?" Sunil shouted anxiously, as Anuja kept changing lanes.

"We are being tailgated, that guy appears drunk, but why is he following us? Look...."

Sunil did not let her finish her sentence, he cut in, in an irritated voice, "... it is not possible Anuja, why would he tailgate you. You must be imagining it."

"Just keep watching that black Volkswagen, it is driving very close to us." Anuja pointed on the rear view mirror, sounding quite concerned.

"Why don't you just go to the left lane and let him go?" Sunil said.

"I did, he changes lanes too!" Said Anuja perplexed.

She showed the left indicator, and this time Sunil saw it too. The black Volkswagen changed lanes with them. A chill ran under their skin. They had heard of highway incidents of road rage and drunken driving. Those were very common in their city. This was different. This was a real car chase. It was deliberate and therefore disturbing.

Sunil looked back and tried to peer through the rear screen to see if he could recognise any of the passengers in the car. But he did not. The guy on the driver's seat was a chauffeur, in a uniform. He was not drunk and he was tailgating their car unmistakably.

When they saw Sunil looking back, the car slowed down. It picked up speed again when Sunil turned away. What was going on?

"You keep driving as if nothing has happened Anuja. Let me take care of it." Said Sunil at length.

Anuja heaved a sigh of relief and secretly thanked the tailgater for getting Sunil off her shoulder for a while. She decided she will message her friend later to thank her.

That was her friend's driver. Anuja had asked her to give them a shock just for some fun. And also to get rid of of one particular backseat driver and make him be just a passenger.

"It would not last for ever." Anuja thought, "Sunil will be the back seat driver again, but it had been worth it. At least that was something."

Easy Come and Easy Go

"It is was clear as writing on the wall! how did you not notice it!" exploded the trainer. "You spent two full years training for this event and now you have lost it, just because of some devious moron?" Anna had no answer, rather she did not want to answer. The coach would not have been so vehement if he knew why she blew up her chance, she thought. "If ever there was an opportunity, this was it!  Now you have to wait another two years to get into the national team! Why did you blow it up?"

Anna handed him the note she was clutching in her fist. He opened the crumpled piece of paper. 'I know about you and coach!' Said the crumpled paper! "What option did I have?" Anna said, pointing to the paper!

"You could have denied allegations. She was probably playing you. I told you she is deceitful and arrogant." The coach kept yelling, "I can assure you that and she knows nothing about us. How can she probably? Unless you told her?"

"Why would I tell her about us? I don't even speak with her a single sentence without starting off a fight! She handed this to me because she knew I would not talk to her! And what about you? Did you tell her." Asked Anna accusatively.

"Why would I tell her...!" Said the coach, faltering a little, "I don't make casual conversation with my trainees."

"Well you did with me! So what stops you from doing it with others." Interjected Anna.

"I wonder what you have in mind Anna?" Asked the coach exasperated.

Just then the door opened. "Is she taken care of?" Maria walked in, not realising that Anna was still there. "Ahhh.....," she said, Realising her mistake.

"so you guys are in it together!" Anna yelled. "What have you been up to behind my back?" She shouted at the coach.

"I am taking the side of the champion. Maria is in the national team, how can I not b on her side?"

"Why?" Anna asked eventually.

"Because I lost faith in you. You are too predictable. I needed someone with a bit of a cunning." Responded the coach, as if it was a mere training session.

"And you cheated me? What if I turn out to be cunning? I could have you fired. I just have to report that you seduced me."

"Ha, Ha, Ha, don't joke, you can't harm a fly!" interjected Maria. "I knew something was not quite right Anna, I found out about coach and you just by chance." Maria deviously explained. "I also knew that I wanted the coach on my side. So I played you and it worked! All is well that ends well"

"So that is it. It was merely about the team and you never cared for me?" Asked Anna to the coach.

"I did and I would," said the coach, "but you are gullible. I could break you so easily. And did you think it was true love and all that! I was just having fun. Weren't you taking advantage of me too?"

"Oh yes she was! She was sleeping with the coach and taking all his attention, while we other team members were competing for his attention!" Maria said contemptuously. "Admit it, you played all the wrong cards."

"Oh no, I did not come this far to just be dealt a wrong hand, I will not let you get away with it." Cried Anna.

"Sure you will," replied the coach, "you will find that I have reported to the authorities that you tried to seduce me. At this moment they are preparing your expulsion letter."

"And I will take care of the media, if you do not refrain from this mudslinging!" Added Maria.

It was a room full of self serving individuals getting into murky transactions, which they loosely called success. But Anna, Maria and Coach were just the same people, taking advantage of the situation to become successful. Does it matter who won?

Don't Bother Me Brother

I was on my way to the market and he came from behind me and slapped on my shoulder heavily, frightened I looked back and found it was only my brother. "Leave me alone," I yelled at him. But he never listens to me. He stayed with me through my shopping, tapping lovingly on my head softly sometimes and pulling my hair sometimes. No amount of cautioning stopped him. Brothers can be such a pain in the neck!

I was on my way to work and who do I find whistling at the back seat! Startled at first, but then I recognised him from that peculiar whistling sound. "Are you serious?" I yelled, trying to keep my car in control. "This is not funny, I am on my way to work!" He just laughed, giggled and roared all at the same time, throughly enjoying how he was annoying me. Brothers! I tell you...

I was in a flight and someone pushed me so hard, I almost fell over the passenger next to me. Not my brother again! He was right there. Smiling annoyingly. My brother I tell you does not know when to leave me alone!

I was in a meeting and my phone vibrates, I check the number and instantly know it's my brother. I run to pick it, otherwise that prankster, he will barge into the meeting room with some pretext. I really get pissed off with my brother.

I was sleeping soundly. I was even having a dream, and a loud thud awakes me, that had to be my brother. He does it every night. Every night he re-enacts his falling off from the balcony and dying. His blood ridden body on the hard ground of the driveway. I see it everyday. I never sleep past two a.m. and he is behind me everywhere I go. He believes he is guarding me from something. Perhaps the thing or person who tossed him off the balcony.

I have learnt to sleep early and get enough sleep before the thud. And even though he is annoying, he is my brother. I wish I could tell him, don't bother me brother!

The Unseen

There is a part of the world that remains unseen. Never seen, but they are not unperceived just because they are unseen. Think about it, if you can perceive it and not see it, what would it be? A ghost? Or just a mystery! What is the point in naming the unnamed or unseen?

My antique watch reminds me of one such unseen, the memory of my long gone ancestors. They were gone and mostly forgotten, besides for me and my nearest relatives. They would disappear even from the family memories after a few generations. The problem was that the watch ticked on its own whenever it felt like. And the other problem was that, I could not keep it away from me. If I left it anywhere it just found its way back to me.

For example, I lost it at the pond the other day. And guess what, a corpse surfaced from the pond the next day and on top of it was my watch. The police gave me a hard time, they said circumstantial evidence. I said it is the watch, it keeps coming back to me, no matter what. The police said, they have never heard such a lame excuse. Anyway, lucky for me the corpse was also holding a fistful of hair and it was established they were not mine. The owner of those ugly hair was found with a bald spot on his head and was hanged.

Then there was this train going on the railway track and I got just the idea. I left the watch on the track. And guess what! A dog came running from nowhere, picked the watch and brought it right back to me. And then it wanted a reward for that! I would tie it along with the watch to the railway line but I let go, because I knew it was not the dog's fault. I only tied the dog to the railway track, as a punishment.

Then there was this incident where I dumped my watch in the boiling cauldron of dal, being prepared for a party of 2000. I was sure that by the time it was found, it would be crushed out of recognition. The first cook to put his ladle in the dal, within seconds of me dropping it, fished out the watch intact in his ladle. This time I couldn't do anything. The cook had the advantage over me, I just dropped a stone so hard in the cauldron that the cook was seriously scalded and taken to hospital.

I tried mixer grinder, flour mill, sewage... and that sewage story is really something. I dumped the watch in the sewage only to be awakened by the police, late in the night. They were holding my watch. They said that there was a blockage in someone's outlet and that they found the watch and realised I might have lost it. I took it and said nothing. Just asked them whose sewage pipe it was. I burned the entire house later.

The watch was making me do all this. I did nothing on my own. The watch asked me to do it. It would tick just slightly and tell me who the next victim was. And trust me, I tried really hard not to listen to it. I even threw it away so many times, but someone finds it every time and brings it back to me.

If you ever find my watch, try not to bring it to me.

My Lockdown Angst

Days just kept getting longer, the chores interminable. Seventies in 2020. Missing conveniences I was so used to. Driving down to the grocery store has become a treat. Seeing real people other than family members a rare occurrence. Did we ever imagine that life was so fragile. One particular day, I was in this massive event, meeting hundreds of people, shaking hands with them, hugging them, making small talks with them, connecting with them and then two days later, there was complete lockdown. All public gatherings banned. The corona virus siege on the humankind.

It is the 2020. Today people can easily live a life without setting a foot into the outside world. In-fact some people have even experimented with this and gone on for months on end. Age of the Agoraphobics. You can google the meaning of the word without moving from where you are seated... remember those bulky dictionaries? They are things of the past. On my sofa there is a whole world. At my door step the whole world bows to me. With the press of a few buttons, I can have the furnitures, the electronics, the books, the files the parcels, the groceries, the fresh cooked food, whatever I need. The world is like a video game today.

I took the outside world so for granted, I had no idea that it meant anything to me. I mean I can always blog away my angst against the outside world and gain many cyber sympathies and hope that the targeted person would get the message. We lock our emotions in the digital space. Others, are just playthings. They are hot gossip, ridiculous, inspiring, unbelievable and outrageous on Facebook, WhatsApp, twitter and Instagram. And they are faceless if they are not on the Facebook. If they don't follow us on these they are not our friends,  unless they have a fancy title to go with their names in Linked-in. To this world of strangers, COVID19 did not wreck much havoc. In-fact some of us are so relieved, we don't have to go out everyday to do the same work, which we now do more effectively from the comfort of our homes.

To children, we describe strangers like this: don't rely on them, don't talk to them, stay away from them; don't go near them, don't take chocolates and biscuits for them and don't go anywhere with them, Nothing wrong with it. But then we also need to give them an environment of familiar faces. Youngsters of today feel very secure chatting with their friends on phone and WhatsApp. It is a lot less challenging and a lot easier to break off from the game, in case of dispute.

I feared strangers too. Not just a little, I would break down every time I went out and returned home. Every day. Yet back then, I did not have a choice. As I grew I became comfortable with people and made friends. Even without the fear of strangers, people are still many things, competitors, followers, appreciaters, look downers, haters, conspirers and secret admirers. The risk of being caught in a huff is always there. No one is perfect, not even in their respective roles towards you. They keep switching their position towards you, like shrewd stock market traders. Best solution is to keep a distance. But it was always figurative, never literal. And therefore it is now quite a thing to know that the distance has to be literal.

I am not sure when this will end, but next time when I see strangers, I am going to bless them.

Deja-vu

The scene was all set, the killer would come from behind the stage in a huff, shoot the poisoned needle and disappear. By the time the audience realised it, there would be a corpse on the stage (staged of course) and before they knew it, the show would have captured them in the plot.
The show was a runaway success. Rarely do people get everything so right. The troupe was elated and bonded many times over through the international tours for months together. They began with dating each other within the troupe and then a couple even married during one of their tours to Switzerland.

Slowly the troupe began to look more like a nomadic tribe. They developed their own unique jargons and slangs. A pecking order developed, the director was the tribe priest; everyone listened to him. The male protagonist of the play, was like the tribe chief and the female protagonist had become the troupes muse. The side actors were playing their part without any resistance, Just like it happens in a tribe.

The troupe took one day in the week off and went about completing their personal chores on that day. Usually a weekday, because they performed over the weekends.

Parag the male protagonist drove the troupe's rented car to the market place. Kamal had chosen to remain in the hotel. He parked the car on the street near a shopping complex. The ritual was always the same, Parag and the others would step out of the car and then talk to each other for a while, in clear view of the market, if people recognised them and came to take autographs, even better.

Parag's phone had been ringing as he drove, so he got down first and picked the phone. The troupe was still getting down from the car when Parag dropped dead. The cause of death was determined to be poison. No one had any idea what had happened. This was real. They stood there helpless. The police came and took over the proceedings. Every one said, this was like deja-vu.

Kamal was thoroughly investigated, but there was no evidence that she had played any part in the murder. You don't get finger prints on pins, She maintained that she had no part to play in the killing. She even had strong alibi.

The troupe disbanded after the mishap and the actors went back to their respective lives.

Since there were no evidences, the case of the killing of Parag was closed. Kamal kept mourning Parag's death for years. I wish I was beside him then this happened, I would take the blow on myself she said in press conferences.

 But what business did he have cheating on me? I was his wife and he was unfaithful. I did not have to do much. I had a perfect plan. I had inserted a pin on the hatch of his cellphone flip cover. If he tried to open the hatch, his thumb would come in contact with the poison. And he did fall for it. A play can be enacted in real life.... 

You Win Some and You Win Yet Again

I have Chiku all sorted out, as long as I catch her in the right time. Rana Pratap the famous Chittor King, had about the same sentiments about Akbar’s army, when he planned his guerrilla wars against Akbar’s platoons. Guerrilla wars are warlets, catch them in their weakest moment and vanquish them just for a while. I am one of them, the vanquisher of a moment.

Timing is extremely critical. Here is how:

“Chiku, why are your socks on the stairs? You left your shoes outside the shoe rack (one face down to the north and one face up to the south). Why is your school uniform strewn on the floor? Why haven’t you kept your school bag in your room yet?” The quintessential remonstrance of a mom, thrilled at the return of her kid from school. Some days these war cries are enthusiastic. Other days they are in-effective. On yet other days the warrior in me is stoic and submissive. But Chiku remains the apple of my eyes, regardless of who clears up the mess.

The joy of seeing her run in after school and hug Penny, our dog, and kiss her a hundred times. Even though we have warned her a thousand times, not to kiss the dog. Oh how she plays on the floor with the dog, lying flat, petting her and getting licked by her. Her two lanky ponies, unkempt and dangling, her face dark and sweaty from being in sun, her pinafore slipping off one shoulder; she is cuteness defined. I want to scoop her up and carry her around once again. But I have to settle for dragging her to my lap and planting a few kisses while she squirms, before she tears herself off and rushes off to her room.

Though her room appears to be a perennial battle field, her belongings engaged in constant Armageddon on her desk, on the floor and over the bed. But that is just a disguise. In truth this is her sanctum sanctorum, her favourite place in the world. Chiku is at home only once she enters this room. 

And soon the afternoon rituals begin.

“I want the iPad!” Chiku explodes.

“No iPad today!” I counter explode.

“Just Half an hour.” Chiku entreats.

“No,” I retort sharply.

“Please!” she pleads.

“No,” Sharper now yet I am melting inside.

“Okay then your phone.” She changes track, to my relief.

“I am using it!” I respond flatly.

“Please!” Chiku entreats yet again.

“No,” I howl, between whatever it is, she is disturbing. “Don’t snatch it from meeeee,”

“Please, please, please!” She plays her trump card, the cute begging look and all.

“No.” I harp and go back to work.

“I don’t want rice and dal today,” She is now at the table and making annoyed protests.

“But you did not have it yesterday either,” I reason.

“No,” She declares with the build-up for a skirmishy cry. “How about rice and curd and jiggery?” She suggests in between the pitter-patter of sniffs.

“No! You can’t have sweet stuff now,” I counter.

“Uuuuunnnnn,” whining aimlessly, fretting and not listening.

Not that whining again. I am quite melted already with all that No, No and No of the afternoon. “Okay have your way, but only today.” I finally surrender.

A bright smile is followed by a, “thank you.” Chiku effortlessly morphs into her cute avatar. Till the next demand, disagreement or discomfort or whatever triggers the next tantrum.

I was caught unawares. When I undertook this journey as a mother no one told me much. No one suggested to exercise my vocal cord to become a mother, Lamaze is all they ever talked about: puff, puff, puff, take deep breaths and push the head out! And then what that head does after emerging was kept a secret! No one suggested regular yoga and meditation to hold peace through the battlefield of mothering, oh no. No one told me you had to be good negotiator to be a mom. No one told me you had to be a social scientist to be a cool mom. No one told me to be a warrior to become an effective mom. I just discovered these things on my own! And I dare say I am barely managing.

Oh how I'd love to leave my daughter alone to live as she pleases! But she is a kid and this is not how it works. If kids were left alone to deal with life, this is how they would live probably- Wake up play, play some more, don't eat, play, play, play and play and then don’t sleep just play. At least this is what mothers think their respective kids would do, myself included. Though the kids have surprised us often, but surprises are called so because they are scarce.

In the ten years that I have been a mother, I think I have chosen my battles well. I have made the choice to speak or not to speak, to whack or not to whack, to punish or not to punish, to protect or to let her fight her fights, to reprimand or to ignore her faults, to lie or not to lie to her. And I have been quite content with the outcome.

And truly, the war is not over, it is never over. Later in the evening, no lessons learned from the afternoon, I begin all over again:

“Chiku have your dinner,” I insist, “it is getting late.”

No answer.

“Chiku quick I am losing my temper.” I fume.

“But I will finish what I am doing before I go.” Chiku finally answers nonchalantly.

I try the tough tone repeating myself all over again.

Nothing! Just silent denial.

“Chiku I am really happy you are doing this interesting thing,” I change tracks, “but food needs to be eaten on time.”

Bingo! I have her attention. Or so it appears. But I can’t hide the whole truth from the readers. Sorry no, there is no real victory in parenting! Chiku still completes her work before she eats.

She seems to know exactly how I can win the war without really winning any of the battles. She just displayed her grit, determination, focus and fearless pursuit of her goal, all over again. Didn't I truly wish for that! 

You win some and you lose some. But in the parent kid battle you win even when you lose. Keeping up the fight is more important than winning the fights! Hush listen carefully! Did I hear the great Rana Pratap, the great proponent of Guerrilla warfare, cheer for me?