Off the Mark

No April rain, no flowers' bloom,
No wedding Saturday within the month of June..
No summer's high, no warm July,
No harvest moon to light one tender August night..
No autumn breeze, no falling leaves,
Not even time for birds to fly to southern skies.

Stevie Wonder

The twelve months of the calendar, much like the twelve zodiac signs they roughly represent, are significantly different from each other. Not just in chronology but also in the way they affect our lives. June, for me is the month of contemplation. Pre-monsoon showers, retreating clouds, low pressure zones or westerly winds- who cares. It's about when most of Youngistan takes a break. Even some of our busier kins notches above in the hierarchy ladder climb down to join us on weekends and so it usually turns out to be the month of catching up, rejuvenating ties n taking a stroll down memory lane. This is one month, when I believe, a majority of us to the left of the generation wall would do well to remember, to reflect, on what their "click"-paced lives seldom allow them to- for unlike the laws of optics, real life witnesses a stark dilation between incidence and reflection. So, it's that time of the year when there are no festivals or any change of the calendar. Yet these are the moments when u must celebrate life and make resolutions u must keep, for when June arrives the next year, nostalgia will grip u firmly, with a nauseating sense of deja vu shuttling between the could be's and the would be's, the haves and the have-nots, of life. So folks, here I am getting off the mark, bitten by the blog bug and smitten by herd mentality- fishing and "reflecting" in shallow rain waters. I don't promise u continuance, the Osama way but I do promise u change, the Obama way.

This is the first one in the 'MORNING, NOON & NIGHT' Trilogy(though i'm not a Sheldon buff).

MORNING!!

"Goood Moorning, Indiyahh!!"...Yes, It's early morning, at least from a lay-man's(sic) perspective and I am sitting in my room- near the window, slurping a cup of stimulating lemon tea and soaking my lungs with intoxicating whiffs of air, that are carrying with them the smell of the mud and of the half-ripe mangoes, with little seasonings of a sweet bovine odour and that of a damp haystack, not to speak of my own caustic farts, thanks to last night's bonus helpings of chicken butter masala at a nearby engagement function of a distant relative. A squeaky clean roll of newspapers is lying beside, in the balcony, waiting for my lazy bum to come and collect it. Newspapers, hmmm. They certainly bear a one-to-one correspondence with mornings, in general. What better a way to start your day than by reading a newspaper and inundating your mind with countless reports of single celebs, double murders, triple party coalitions and so on. Media after all has rightly earned the label of the fourth estate. Which other organ of the state would otherwise break your window pane or peek through it. I don't blame the news-hawker though. I believe he's a real godsend. Who else on earth would wake up before dawn, crawl his way through the streets, and deliver your favourite tabloid right at your doorstep(or window pane!!) while you're still dozing off under the comfy confines of your quilt. And the poor chap does not even demand a paltry labour charge for it (though he does make other "adjustments" to your monthly bills quite often).Additional to the pains taken by him, is the importance of what he delivers. The newspaper!!! Buoy, I swear it is one heck of a multi-purpose commodity. The list of its usefulness goes from seeking knowledge to having fun and what not! Let's just spare a moment before we get ahead with our morning chores and see what a newspaper means to everyone in the family.

Kids:
-For details of summer camps and join the dots or find the difference sections.
-As a ready reckoner for all the soporific and weird programmes on Pogo clashing in timing with those of higher trp's on the other channels.
-To know about the latest offers on Milo, Lays' and the like.

Teenagers:
-For pics of national toppers in entrance exams and for ads of the coaching institutes of the same.And more importantly..
-For a desirable pic at an undesirable place: that of the ravishing girl next door who recently secured the highest aggregate in class XIIth board exams.
-Sports page, for the latesht hairshtyle of Dhoni.

Housewives:
-For tv listings of all programmes on primetime starting with the letter K.
-For Page 3 gossip about celebrity break ups and extensive research on what caused them.
-As a material for foiling parathas in long journeys.
-As a temporary replacement for the beautiful patch-work table-cloth while it has gone for dry cleaning.

The middle order(read age) heavy-bats (Dads, elder brothers and other goons):
- As an accessory to be taken to the loo.
-As a stress buster to vent pent-up frustration of job by crushing and folding it to an extent of virtual molestation.
-As a place to look out prospective grooms for their daughters or sisters and prospective companies/institutes for their sons or brothers.
-Also as a place to look at the quarterly losses of their own companies and hence for seeking prospective employers for themselves too.
-As a veil to hide the covert side glances at bagalwali Mrs.Pathak with khule fatak.
-As a notepad to scribble that important phone number of the property dealer, only to have an altercation with wife, later in the day, for having used it to wrap aloo parathas for Chunnu.
-In short, as a kit for total redemption in all walks of life. As you see, these obviously are the people most fond of newspapers.

Generation X:
Ah, I bet you waited for this. But don’t we all know what we use it for. Still, here goes.
-For enlightening our political viewpoints in an effort to actually have one.
-Sports page, for Ana Ivanovic's thighs and Roger Federer's demise.
-Ads, for updating our awareness about the latest gadgets n gizmos and for growing personal discontent over our current models, both at the same time.
-To look for alternate ways of earning a livelihood and new ways of spending money.
-Page three, to boost the power of imagination by a certain spread and use mechanism that also improves our hand-eye coordination to a great degree.

The oldies(grannas n grannies, supergrannas n supergrannies):
Well, grannies are usually the only lot who probably have absolutely nothing to do with a newspaper. Zilch. Yet for all those sexagenarians, octagenarians and beyond..
-As snacks for real-politik discussions on the Chaiwalah's termite ridden wooden benches.
-To attest and redraw their political biases by extracting between the lines tidbits.
-To look for that rare little column on the cinematic legends of their times, not in page 3 but in the obituary section.
- To wonder about the pace with which the world is leaving them behind and worse still, to look for healthy ways of life to control it from happening the other way round.
-Lastly, as a pal to spend their time with, bothering about everyone when almost nobody bothers about them.

Phew!!! So, the list took you some time to read. No wonder, It's quite sunny now. The middle order is taking guard at the crease(going to office) while the oldies are still busy with their running commentaries at Shibbu Chaiwalah's...

Mr.Mehta-"..Are sharmaji have some pakoras too"

Mr.Sharma-"Ha Ha... inflation has tied our hands Mehta ji, Aap hi khao"

Mr.Mehta-"Are hamara kya kharcha hai, this is all we spend apart from medical expenses"

Mr.Sharma-"Haan par ye UPA sarkaar bhi votebank politics khel rahi hai. Gawarment should listen to the left."

Mr.Mehta-"Relax sharma ji. Relax. Worrying about things is not going to change them. I think the BJP should come to power. UPA is a bunch of crooked blood-suckers. My son- wahi jo MLA hai, says things are looking positive"

While the talk was still on, a small Maruti Zen zipped past the tea shop, stomping a pothole near it and splashing filth all over Mr.Mehta's dhoti. Call it Mudslinging!!

Trivia: Ironiocally, zen in English also means being relaxed and not worrying about things that you can not change. Mr.Mehta surely knows. Also, hailed as their prized possessions, Maruti cars are often considered second bread winners of aspiring Indian middle class families.
(The car later entered the Assembly Building of the sprawling Secretariat Campus. It belonged to MLA, Mr.Rajneesh Mehta).

Back at home, I've just gorged on the breakfast prepared by my mother, who, by now is giving a piece of her mind to.. Chanda ki Maa, the bai. Well, if you are taking a break from work or are staying at home most of the time for any which reason, let me tell u that maid servants are as integral a part of the morning chores, as are newspapers. Even they are the news bearers(local ones) and work at the grassroot level. They seem to pick news up out of thin air or vacuum and disseminate it with an efficiency that will make the legendary Reuters turn within his grave. Where they differ from newspapers though is in attendance. Heavens forbid but if civil society was ever to have a finishing school for house-maids like there are for air hostesses, all of them would flunk badly on account of poor showing up.

Meanwhile, as their ad-libbing continues incessantly in the background, I turn on the television to give my indolent feet some inspiration to go to bath and set the pace for a quieter afternoon...!!

NOON follows soon... till then, let's have a nap!!