You Never Know

Its one of those things.

Once upon a time in undergrad, I had put up a status message on Holi saying 'when variegated visages vivify life :)'.

Yes, I know.

I was squarely in the 'humaara neta kaisa ho... Oxford Dictionary jaisa ho' camp.

Extremely sophomorish.

Which was to be expected, all things considered, since I was in sophomore year.

Anyhoo.

Since holi last month, I've been trying to recollect what that status message was.

I remembered 'when ... visages vivify life'.

But for the vivified life of me, I was unable to recollect what that word in between was.

The best my mind could summon was that it was a synonym for colorful.

As the story goes, I didnt chase it further.

Coz it aint like this search has been at the forefront of my existence this last month.

Far from it.

Its rather been like one of those pop-ups that spring upon you while you're foggily browsing through yet another op-ed and disappear as soon as your mouse hovers close by.

You make a mental note to investigate the pop-up later.

Which never happens since the word 'later' is legally recognized as the cornerstone of all successful procrastination.

You must understand: we procrastinators are the true planners of the world.

We don't believe in past perfect.

No sir.

You will never hear us say "I have done what I meant to do."

We are the future perfect people.

Example: "Dont worry, I will have done it before it slips out of my mind".

And then there are the firsts amongst equals.

These be the future perfect progressive folks.

Example: "I will have been doing this for a total of zero seconds until 5 minutes before the deadline."

Anyhoo.

So today, I was going through an article when I suddenly stumbled upon this mental pop-up again.

Resolutely, I set out to find the missing word which I knew meant 'colorful'.

Diligently, I opened Google in the next tab.

Immediately, my subconscious mind fired up some neurons which took the orders from my cerebrum and hurtled them through dendrons, onto axons, past the synapses and unto the motor nerves to bid my fingertips to type "synonym of colorful".

But there's many a slip between the cup and the lip.

My neurons finally caught up with the concept of Chinese Whispers.

By the time the message passed from the first neuron to the last one, it got changed in the entirety.

What I typed out was "variegated".

Two months of intermittent thinking upstaged by one momentary lapse of concentration.

Subconscious 1 : Conscious 0

The moral of the story, dear gentle, impressionable reader, is simple:

Listen to The Beatles.

They really were onto something despite that moppy hair cutting off all air supply to their brains.

"There will be an answer, let it be".

London Diaries - Weathering it

When I landed in London, I decided I'll try and blend in. 

Not with the accent and the looks. 

Nor with the fish and chips.

And no, I wasn't going to go around looting shops.

I thought I'd strike up a conversation about the weather.

After all, its England.

Its the land, the most competitive, distinguished and prestigious job is that of the weather forecaster for prime time news.
Why?

He gets to talk about the weather to the whole nation.

Beat that.

Oh every place has its own conversation starter.

In Calcutta, you can just say "kii aar bolbo!" (whats left to say anyway) with a look of wonderment on your face.

The bus conductor will think you're talking about fuel prices.

The average guy/girl on the road will think you were sighing after the girl that just walked past.

Everyone else will take it you're talking abt Saurav Ganguly's exclusion from the Indian team.

Anyway, I digress.

Blending in. 

Weather conversation. 

Yah. 

Lets do it.

I arrive at my hotel and meet the concierge who was to hand me the keys.

Pleasant man.

British accent.

"Oh whelcome sirh, iyts a pleaszure to have you"

*rubbing hands together*

This was the crucible for me to test my weather potion.

The canvas for my weather brush.

The papyrus for my weather plot.

You get the picture?

Yah.

The guy for my weather talk.

And so I began.

"Thanks a lot. Awful weather though, isnt it"

I think I piqued his national pride by introducing the weather as a concept between us first.

Or woke him up from a long slumber and poured a pitcher of red bull down his throat.

The effect was the same.

Concierge: "Oh truly. Its been going on in this fashion since morning. Its such a nuisance. We has splendid weather the whole of last week - bright sunshine, clear days. Light breeze on the weekend. Not much rain except some smattering here and there. But this morning its been..."

I never knew what hit me.

By and by, he handed me the keys to my room and I found a moment between today's weather analysis and tomorrow's forecast to cut him and ask for directions to the lift. 

I walked over to the lift.

Door open.

Press floor button.

Door close.

Sigh of relief.

Got off at my floor.

Walked along the corridor to my room.

As I fumbled for the right key, a guy got out of the apartment next to mine.

Guy: "Good morning. Just moving in?"

Polite meaningless conversation. 

No worries.

I got this one.

Me: "Yeah, just arrived an hour ago"

Guy: "Oh nice. First time in London?"

Me: "Yeah"

Guy: "Oh well. Awful weather isn't it."

Me: *gulp*

London Diaries - Shoe it Away

Was walking down the road on my way back from office. 

Thinking I should buy a pair of shoes from London. 

Something to carry back from this place.

Making a nice filmy mental picture of myself.

A watch from New York, a tee from Thailand, a belt from Hong Kong, a shoe from London...

Phir bhi dil hai Hindustani.

Imagining SRK raise his hands in the SRKTM fashion and then swerve to one side tapping his hand on his heart.

But then...

A min later, the sole of my left shoe came off. 

Sans any provocation, treading on a normal road, without even the slightest preparatory hint... came off. 

Just like that. 

Off. 

Middle of the footpath, standing with 3 Marks & Spencer's Food polybags in one hand, a coke can in the other, a backpack, tie flying in the breeze, hair threatening to get uprooted - all I could do was blink and stare at my shoe. 

And the sole lying 3 inches behind it.

It was a sign.

As clear as a divine sign could ever be.

I had to buy a shoe in London.

Fate, it seems, is not without its own shopping list.

Content that I looked appropriately distressed as I limped, I made my way home.

Quietly scanned my gtalk list.

Swooped down on unsuspecting prey and narrated my by-now-marinated-and-dressed story.

Sufficiently alleviated of my misery, I stepped out of the house to go shopping.

In another pair of shoes.

Walked up to the railway station.

But then...

Weighed the prospect of contemplating dozens of shoes in multiple stores.

Took a detour.

Bought a tube of "UHU. El Pegamento Universal - fast, permanent, transparent, adjustable"

Stuck the sole back to the shoe.

Recollected the product-geography map I'd originally thought of.

Searched for a particular video on Youtube.

And as I polished the shoe...

*mera joota hai Japaani, yeh patloon Englishtaani, sir pe lal topi Roosi phir bhi dil hai Hindustani*

London Diaries - Q&A

London is disappointing in some ways. 

For starters, its not Paris. 

The Heathrow Underground terminal would make everyone in Bengal proud of Howrah Station.

(Redundant, though. I guess everyone in Bengal is anyway proud of Howrah Station.)

Canary Wharf is a whimper before Hong Kong Central.

The cabs haven't changed their look since India got independence - purportedly to maintain at least some sense of continuity in the Empire.

And yes, it rains.

Quite literally, the weather here is not going to set anyone's world on fire.

It does, however, seem to have a refreshingly new but suspiciously non-publicized aspect to it - asking questions to complete strangers.

Day 1 

I stand on the railway platform and a random guy in a suit walks up to me to ask 'do you take this train often'? 

Me: "Considering its my first day in London, I'd have to say no." 

Same day, we're having beer at a Canary Wharf pub and a man in a suit walks up to us.

Man in suit: "Do you know where (insert name of an absolutely unknown place here) is."

We: "Considering its our first day in London, we'd have to say no."

Later that day we're walking back to Rathee and Birla's place.

A man in a suit (surprise surprise) walks up to us.

Says: "would it be okay for me to ask you if renting a place here (points to a place by generously waving his hand towards his right) as opposed to there (gently lobs an imaginary basketball over his shoulder on the left by way of indicating where 'there' is)?

Technically, the most correct answer would have been - "Yes, its okay for you to ask us that"

The next best answer would probably have been - "Well, there's a lake on this side and a river on that side. Guess it just depends on how big a boat you own."

But we said, "Considering its our first day in London, we'd have to say 'no idea'"

Looks like word got out that day.

Londoners have shown great restraint against the urge to ask me questions on domestic affairs since then.

Unfortunately, this has had major macroeconomic ramifications.

Some disliked the idea of letting me escape scot free from my duty to answer strangers' random questions and started rioting in protest.

(See?)

The Indian team is having to field my share of questions because of which they can only spend limited time at the crease and need to get out quickly.

(Get it now?)

The weather has been well behaved the last week so as to deprive me of anything quintessentially British.

(I'm telling you)

And of course...

Why else is GBP/USD going down if not to ensure that I get lesser HKD back on my return journey?

The latest addition to Ripley's Believe It Or Not, ladies and gentlemen...

For want of an askee, the nation was lost.

Swell.

Any questions?