People: new and old

They are around you always. At times they make you feel secure, other times they are the reason you are scared.

A list:

My little small town cousins:
Four. In Jamshedpur. Were asleep when I reached. So, in the morning when I get up, find all the four (none higher than three feet) huddled up all in one room.
The two girls were probably more shy but the boys were no less. It is rare in our cities....the way they were smiling, blushing and playing hide-n-seek. Trying to sneak a look at me, but as soon as I caught their eyes, in a flash they would go all giggles and take cover behind the bedsheet.
Couldnt help enjoying !
Though it is another story that within 30 minutes they cared not who I was !


My Driving guru:
Always keeps bugging me about dakshina. His comments on the people on the road and tips to handle or rather keep away from them are hilarious. The car is a piece of art. His controlling the clutch is what I hate most.


The Motorcyclist or the Brat-with-the-big-car :
They make me feel like a movie character. If any one day something goes wrong.....

Have to relate one experience though. It was eight in the evening.I was waiting for an auto, standing all dressed in salwaar-kameez et al. Was my friend's sister wedding. Slight drizzle. The road was shining, the yellow street lights and the to and fro vehicular headlights adding to the gleam.
Two bikers passed by, I hardly noticed until one stopped a few yards away. He turned his head, I looked away. He went grrrh grrrh on his accelarator and I breathed again. But then,he took the turn around the gol chakkar and was heading towards me. I tried displaying immense serenity on the surface (havent figured out for whom or for what good) but my insides started squirming. Just then a cab zoomed in like a savior and I quickly jumped in.

However, once safe, the first thing that crossed my mind was......shucks, missed some adventure !


The Helpful Middle aged gentleman:
You meet them everywhere. I received their help at the Passport Office. (By the way this office caters to the entire West Bengal State and has a legacy of gifting you spondilytis free with every succesfully issued passport.)
These guys take active interest in everybody's problem and, except for their place in the queue, would readily help you with anything.


The Cute salesboy/other impressionists
The smile factor. There is this one at the Wrangler Showroom. Poor guy.....he showed me every denim piece he had before I finally selected one in three days. And the amazing part was the constant smile and the eagerness to serve. I know that was his job, but I somehow found him rare.
There was another one at Westside, almost urging me to flirt around a bit.

I have to say this, it's Kolkata Special.......the ones in Delhi are way off the mark.


The only Talking Guy at the Workplace:
Calls himself Neo. Loathes India and though a Bengali by birth and everything else, is an Australian at heart. Beleives that Operating Systems are the best thing to study. Whatever I might do, he is sure to say "high funda"or "bhenerated". Tries hard to get me to listen to Rock, but in vain.


The Irritable Bengali lady:
Is generally very prim and proper, probably works in a Bank. You have to deal with them in the buses. And they, will just not tolerate you. Will never take the accidental slight nudge in the right spirit, are ready to fight with the conductor for anything. (Feel guilty continuing.)


Holiday Solace:
Malaya Sir. Can talk to him for hours at stretch. Inspirational stuff.


The virtual aquantainces:
Those you meet in the web world. You talk to them, exchange mails (formal or casual) without a hint as to what they look like. Most of the time we dont even care because we may actually never (need) to see or meet them. But, it strikes me as strange whenever I think of it.


The Aged and Sick in the family:
I would rather not have written this as it generally is one source of sadness and deep retrospection.Best to be kept within.


To-be-married and younger-than-myself cousin
Oh, there are so many now and the number is increasing. I do not really care but it gives me mixed feelings.

For the girls I can forsee another mother-of-two in the making, with all her life devoted to the children or the husband. The world is cahnging they say. The only change I see is that now my cousins are well read and all, but essentially end up in the same manner as the ones twenty years earlier did. The problem is with the family head who just refuses to accept anything but three things: one- girls are a responsibility on their parents ; two : Please marry them while I am still alive ; three: If they want to study, they can always do that if her in-laws permit her.

Mom's Customers:

Office Boss

One gentleman you genuinely want to impress.

American cousins:
Smartest kids I havs seen. Come out with funny names- they have christened my brother chacha bhaiya for god knows what resons. Love to eat Paan and wear Kurta-Pyjamas. Will never let go their Bisleri bottles. And, will not speak in Hindi, no matter what.

It is a real pain to see them off at the airport though.You just wish they could stay back a little longer. Still young,l and despite everything else they love the company and warmth here.

Once-classmate-now-model friends:

You forget their existence until you spot them one fine morning in the local newspaper modelling for an umbrella. You are enthused nonetheless and go around the entire house telling everyone about the girl being your classmate once upon a time!

The unseen many

............to be completed and continued