Guinea Pig Tale

Achchan noun Malayalam word for father/Dad Pronunciation - The 'cha' is similar to the one in Bachchan. Dear Achcha, I should've written this letter a long time ago. But some things take time... The very last time I spoke to you, I had said, " Ellam sheriyavum" . In Malyalam, it means 'everything will be alright'. Whenever you saw doubt or unhappiness on my face, you would ask me what the matter was. Sometimes I would be forthcoming with an answer, and then you would offer some advice. At other times, I would just shake my head and say "Nothing". Whatever be my answer, you would always say ' Ellam sheriyavum '. And even if the problem wasn't solved, I would find it a little easier to believe that it would indeed be alright. When I saw you in the hospital room that day, I told you that everything would be alright. Because I believed it myself and I wanted you to believe it too. By the time I saw you again, everything wasn&#

It was supposed to be a small stopover. 15 minutes at the Sanchi Stupa, and then we would back on track to Jabalpur. But as it often happens, it is the detours we take in trips, and in life that turn out to be the most surprising. It was by chance that we decided to visit the Sanchi Stupa during our road journey from Bhopal to Jabalpur. Our driver mentioned in passing that it was on the way, and so we stopped and bought the tickets. We walked a few meters and there it was - India's largest Buddhist monument. It might sound intimidating when I say it like that, but our sense of wonder was for different reasons. We had reached here early in the morning, just a while after sun rise. Throughout the journey from Bhopal, the rain had been relentless. But just as we reached here, the rain stopped. The stupas here were built on a hill so that the monks could lead a peaceful monastic life. Since it is a World Heritage site, the place has been left untouched by constructi

This post was written today morning when flying from Mumbai to Bhopal on a 5.30 am flight. I'm flying on a bed of clouds. The clouds are just endless in the monsoon. At some places, they look like mattresses. I see it and I just want to jump off. At others, they're wispier. Like the cotton they use to dress wounds. At some places, you can see gaps - and through the gaps, more clouds underneath. There are moments when the fog obstructs the view and plays tricks on your mind. At night, the shifting fog on Mumbai's cityscape made it look like lights getting switched on whenever it moved. Now, at dawn, the fog is moving at an alarming speed and that's when I realize how fast an aircraft is. I have no idea what's on the ground. Rivers, valleys, ravines - can't tell at all. We're too high up and there are too many clouds. We kept shifting between layers of clouds. Floor 1, floor 2, floor 3 - how many floors of clouds are there? At times, between floors,

Today was the last day of college and no one said goodbye. The first half of the day flew past nervously preparing for the last exam I would give in this college. Even after the class photograph was taken, there were no protracted farewells, no tears – nothing. It was as though we couldn’t believe this would be the last time we would walk out of these gates as students.   In the evening, as we sat on the rocks (actually tetrapods, to be precise), I realised how similar college was to the sea. Before you think last-day nostalgia has made me a little crazy, let me explain. Looking back, before going ahead. In the Mumbai I live in, you’re never really far from the sea. Around South Mumbai, a short walk, or a short cab-ride will usually take you close to the sea. The Arabian Sea is dependable that way, just like my college is. Need company? Head to college. Don’t have money to eat? Head to college for cheap food or credit from Anna. Especially for hostelites, college wa