It wasn't the best of the starts I could have had, I must say. The round of events should justify the "Vicissitudes" in the blog's name.
Roughly 6 weeks into my romance with my newly wed, I've had not so good stuff happen in personal life. Moving to a nice little university town (Urbana-Champaign), working full-time in the day, playing tennis every evening, playing cricket on weekends and visiting Chicago on weekends to meet friends and spending time at Brand "918 SC" with some new officers ramping up to carry the torch/brand forward were a lot of things to do in an average week. However a freak accident while playing cricket led to a fractured right thumb. That not only put a comma (maybe coma too) to my activities but also dented my spirits. (Being denied a car loan sort of added to the irritation.)
Now, being advised to undergo a surgery to correct my thumb dented my spirits beyond imagination. At about the same time, I even got a speeding ticket and a parking ticket. Being a proud driving student of my father, this put me to shame.
I didn't know if any inspiration would work to humor me away from the glum, nauseating, knocking-off thoughts. When I was getting my thumb a splint of plaster of paris, next to me was sitting an old lady. I tried not to look at her for the fear of accidentally letting my eyes land on her injury/wounds/fracture. A hyper imagination has caused to me faint for even trivial things like a vaccination.
The lady was perhaps in her 70s or so. She sounded frail. Her words trembled, more because they came from a very old throat than out of nervousness. Despite being in the deepest thoughts about my surgery and being worried, I lent my ears to her words. She talked about this and that. Suddenly she exclaimed, "Oh wow! I will have new bandages!" It sounded so like a kid getting a new dress. I couldn't help but chuckle. Next she was being given some covering, supporting boots.
"These look like ski boots! I could go skiing!"
This time I guffawed! It may not be the quality of the joke as much as the spirit of the old lady! There was my inspiration to get back the kid Varun who'd bravely go to hospitals and impress the doctors and surgeons. My surgery is due on friday Sep 3rd 2010. While I wait to see which of my friends can be with me that day at the hospital, the lady and her words will go a long way towards my mental strength.
Here is to your humor and the timing, lady!
My original title for this post was - Fractured thumb - rebuilt humor.
I changed it to the current title to not only archive her words but to also implement my resolve to keep my humor (which I learned from her).
And yeah, prayers are welcome - In cash or kind. Even 2 thumbs up would do ;)
Showing posts with label Regular rambling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Regular rambling. Show all posts
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Perfectly Ironical People
Any fan of Sherlock Holmes would know of his ability to deduce the train of thoughts by mere observation of a person's face. He'd also need to know the person a good deal, of course, to be able to know how a person would react to something (a word, a picture or something). I wish I had Holmes to sit by me to playback my train of thoughts so that I could compile this post well.
Anyway, it was about the inflation - esp in India - that led me to think and come up with this post that I was supposed to have written long back (At least a month back). What with "3 Idiots" providing some entertainment (but more than that, making million idiots of the watchers) - the 'message' it intended to portray about excellence and education as opposed to success and qualification - it led me to relate the ideas to what my father often says about the gen-next.
"Your generation lacks common sense and are fit for nothing in life except making wonderful gadgets", he'd say in one of his more relaxed, gentle and amiable moods.
"You carefully plug all the ant-holes, dog-doors giving the impression of being assiduous, spend-thrifts and mature beings...
... only to leave elephant-gateways open?", he'd continue.
Although, I feel he makes outrageous statements, there is more than a hint of truth in those. Take this for example. In my apartments in Bangalore, most of them are in the higher middle class (economically). Almost everyone is in the Technology field (Engineers, IT people etc). Some are doctors. Others are chairpersons of small companies. You'd expect their lifestyles to be lavish at an average and you'd not be disappointed by your guess. Most families own at least 2 houses. Their spending habits don't show much restraint too, apart from the regular savings and budgeting that any family that wants to survive does.
Now, move the focus to a lady who offers ironing service to the residents. She, as anyone could guess, was a poor lady. She charged 1 rupee per piece of cloth (Shirt/trouser etc). Now that's very less. When you look at the globe and see the prices of essentials, you only see a sharp increase if not exponential. You don't need to be a rocket scientist (or as pertinent here - a Nobel Prize winning economist) to understand that daily expenses are hard to meet for her family.
She, last year, in the wake of rising prices of even essentials like rice, pulses and vegetables, decided to increase the ironing cost to 1.50 rupees. A sane population will be expected to sympathize and support the decision. And lo! What happens? There is a furor over the increase of pricing.
"She is exploiting our helplessness!"
"She thinks we don't have any other place to go to?"
"We'll show her who's the boss here!"
"The apartment administration should intervene and impose her to stick to 1 rupee..."
My father - the then (and as of this post,) the unanimous choice President of the Apartments - dismissed these requests from residents saying they were too silly to be discussed! "That matter is simply not worth my time and I don't wish to discuss this. If you have an issue, you find someone else, but I'll not pass a law asking her to reduce her pricing!"
One day, after he came back from the Owners' meet, he had a peeved look and with his hand on his forehead, poured out his disgust. "These 'highly educated', so called IIT grads and MIT grads and MS from USA folks think they know it all. Ask them to talk about solving a simple problem and they'll all be ready with Powerpoint presentations! However, does the problem get solved? No! Only endless meetings happen..."
I got interested in this outburst. A little instigation is all it takes to get more out of him. "So what are they doing now, dad?" I asked.
"Oh well, I saw a lady drive out of the building with a bunch of clothes to iron. I asked her what she was doing and she, with a wise, smug look on her face, revealed the ultimate secret of eternal wealth and savings! Some fellow down the road is charging just 1 rupee per cloth and so she decided to go to him instead of to this poor lady here. And these very people don't mind pouring lakhs and millions to builders without much bargaining!"
I realized his drift. I let him continue, albeit at the expense of my generation! "And she perhaps doesn't realize that she spends more on the fuel than she saves by going to that other fellow!!!"
Dad, I wish they taught 'life' too in schools! But then, most in your generation, never encourage 'wasting' time on such courses which don't make their children either doctors or engineers. So here we are. Engineers and Doctors, but not humans!
Anyway, it was about the inflation - esp in India - that led me to think and come up with this post that I was supposed to have written long back (At least a month back). What with "3 Idiots" providing some entertainment (but more than that, making million idiots of the watchers) - the 'message' it intended to portray about excellence and education as opposed to success and qualification - it led me to relate the ideas to what my father often says about the gen-next.
"Your generation lacks common sense and are fit for nothing in life except making wonderful gadgets", he'd say in one of his more relaxed, gentle and amiable moods.
"You carefully plug all the ant-holes, dog-doors giving the impression of being assiduous, spend-thrifts and mature beings...
... only to leave elephant-gateways open?", he'd continue.
Although, I feel he makes outrageous statements, there is more than a hint of truth in those. Take this for example. In my apartments in Bangalore, most of them are in the higher middle class (economically). Almost everyone is in the Technology field (Engineers, IT people etc). Some are doctors. Others are chairpersons of small companies. You'd expect their lifestyles to be lavish at an average and you'd not be disappointed by your guess. Most families own at least 2 houses. Their spending habits don't show much restraint too, apart from the regular savings and budgeting that any family that wants to survive does.
Now, move the focus to a lady who offers ironing service to the residents. She, as anyone could guess, was a poor lady. She charged 1 rupee per piece of cloth (Shirt/trouser etc). Now that's very less. When you look at the globe and see the prices of essentials, you only see a sharp increase if not exponential. You don't need to be a rocket scientist (or as pertinent here - a Nobel Prize winning economist) to understand that daily expenses are hard to meet for her family.
She, last year, in the wake of rising prices of even essentials like rice, pulses and vegetables, decided to increase the ironing cost to 1.50 rupees. A sane population will be expected to sympathize and support the decision. And lo! What happens? There is a furor over the increase of pricing.
"She is exploiting our helplessness!"
"She thinks we don't have any other place to go to?"
"We'll show her who's the boss here!"
"The apartment administration should intervene and impose her to stick to 1 rupee..."
My father - the then (and as of this post,) the unanimous choice President of the Apartments - dismissed these requests from residents saying they were too silly to be discussed! "That matter is simply not worth my time and I don't wish to discuss this. If you have an issue, you find someone else, but I'll not pass a law asking her to reduce her pricing!"
One day, after he came back from the Owners' meet, he had a peeved look and with his hand on his forehead, poured out his disgust. "These 'highly educated', so called IIT grads and MIT grads and MS from USA folks think they know it all. Ask them to talk about solving a simple problem and they'll all be ready with Powerpoint presentations! However, does the problem get solved? No! Only endless meetings happen..."
I got interested in this outburst. A little instigation is all it takes to get more out of him. "So what are they doing now, dad?" I asked.
"Oh well, I saw a lady drive out of the building with a bunch of clothes to iron. I asked her what she was doing and she, with a wise, smug look on her face, revealed the ultimate secret of eternal wealth and savings! Some fellow down the road is charging just 1 rupee per cloth and so she decided to go to him instead of to this poor lady here. And these very people don't mind pouring lakhs and millions to builders without much bargaining!"
I realized his drift. I let him continue, albeit at the expense of my generation! "And she perhaps doesn't realize that she spends more on the fuel than she saves by going to that other fellow!!!"
Dad, I wish they taught 'life' too in schools! But then, most in your generation, never encourage 'wasting' time on such courses which don't make their children either doctors or engineers. So here we are. Engineers and Doctors, but not humans!
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Getting to know someone
May be everyone knows this but I feel it is one of those things that are present in the subconscious, not obvious, just like every creature knows that jumping from a height could either injure or kill it.
Many applications on Facebook these days are quizzes which are supposed to reveal how much one person knows another person. Essentially it is fact-based. Knowing facts about a person is a major 'fact'or in knowing a person. Agreed! However, I realized that you could just know a person or feel that you can know a person without actually being able to quote their favorite color, dish, brand or pastime. In fact these may change from time to time.
So if you want to know a person, you should know how their tastes may vary or how they react to events and why. You could perhaps say you know a person well if you can think what the other person is thinking. You'll know the chain of thoughts. Maybe why he/she thought of that thought even! Everything. And yet, you may not be able to tell something specific like the other person's dog's name.
With my new found discovery (having brought it from subconscious to main working sheet of the mind) I plan to set out trying to know people. My emphasis will be on extrapolation of person's behavior to judge (Oh everyone judges everyone at every instant of time!<--- I just did once again!) the person and predict the person's reactions at another time. The joy you get when you realize that you can almost predict what a person would do in a situation and then see that the prediction becomes true is un-word-able! :)
I have some friends who can tell what my reaction would be and why. We often don't even need words to communicate with each other. (This comes to the fore when you're playing games like Dumb Charades and Taboo.) It is mutual. I am now discovering/adding more people in that list.
PS: Maybe the idea behind knowing facts is to know what happened in the past and what was the response of that person. That knowledge may help in predictions. Any which way, it is not just the facts...
Many applications on Facebook these days are quizzes which are supposed to reveal how much one person knows another person. Essentially it is fact-based. Knowing facts about a person is a major 'fact'or in knowing a person. Agreed! However, I realized that you could just know a person or feel that you can know a person without actually being able to quote their favorite color, dish, brand or pastime. In fact these may change from time to time.
So if you want to know a person, you should know how their tastes may vary or how they react to events and why. You could perhaps say you know a person well if you can think what the other person is thinking. You'll know the chain of thoughts. Maybe why he/she thought of that thought even! Everything. And yet, you may not be able to tell something specific like the other person's dog's name.
With my new found discovery (having brought it from subconscious to main working sheet of the mind) I plan to set out trying to know people. My emphasis will be on extrapolation of person's behavior to judge (Oh everyone judges everyone at every instant of time!<--- I just did once again!) the person and predict the person's reactions at another time. The joy you get when you realize that you can almost predict what a person would do in a situation and then see that the prediction becomes true is un-word-able! :)
I have some friends who can tell what my reaction would be and why. We often don't even need words to communicate with each other. (This comes to the fore when you're playing games like Dumb Charades and Taboo.) It is mutual. I am now discovering/adding more people in that list.
PS: Maybe the idea behind knowing facts is to know what happened in the past and what was the response of that person. That knowledge may help in predictions. Any which way, it is not just the facts...
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
A High
Sitting in office, struck by blanking of mind, is horrible. You know you're being paid for being in office and coding an application (for ex) but all that is happening is the former without the latter. "Aaahhh! Coffee! My best medicine..." This is dangerous! I noticed that my coffee consumption goes high when in office and that doesn't always give me a high. All that goes high is the acidity in my stomach.
Worse still is when I do this without breakfast/lunch/brunch.
On one such droning day when the world seems to be hibernating and you wonder if the Earth stopped rotating, I came across a very stimulating status message. It claimed "Religion is a socio-political system/setup invented by the opportunist to control the majority population by exploiting their emotions and weaknesses."
I gawked at the message. In some moments, I was smiling! In the next few moments, my fingers joyfully tapped the keys of my keyboard! This chain of climactic events was because my thoughts resonated with that person's.
I buzzed him and what followed was a stimulating chat. Mutually both were extremely happy. It was as though God or some such thing (both are agnostic) gave us a play toy called stimulating thoughts! We played. We played and had to cut short our game because of lack of time. I promised Harish to write about this. I went on to join him, Suraj and Vivek to perform in a college event (IGSA Freshers' Night 2009).
Harish Naik's blog is http://hnaik.blogspot.com/
In this post I enumerate the people who are my mental coffee: Rahul Ranade, Rajagopal V (confusedmartian.blogspot.com), Harish Naik.
Rahul Ranade is one who can follow anything from any simple rot that I utter to a high-ly pun/vague/sarcastic thing I say. Our verbal wars have produced many a happy time for the two of us and if I am right, I should see a pugnacious and bilious remark, which at the least harmful level is merely sarcastic!
Monday, August 17, 2009
Spoilsport became Opportunity
When could a rained out (Cricket match cancelled due to rain) be tolerated?
When you get interesting company... You sit and chat over a wide range of topics... That's when!
"You know what I learnt from someone? The difference between a smart guy and a not-smart guy...", said Moshi bhai!
"Go on! What is it?" I said, always the one to enjoy Moshi's company.
"A smart guy needn't be experienced, but can understand exactly (Almost empathize with) what the other person who is more experienced is saying and use that to act wisely. Given a set of inputs and circumstances, not just you, but I would take the same decision."
I almost agree. With a bit of difference based on the natural attitude of the person, more often than not everyone would end up taking the same decision. So Moshi made me feel not-such-a-loser-as-I-decided-I-was after a discussion with my friends and roommates made me believe I was the biggest loser, deciding to quit work and come here to the US!
And now when I think, I wonder if that natural attitude of a person (The traits of being optimistic or not, risk-taking or not) depends on the circumstances around him/her all life... If some friend of mine and I were baby swapped, then he'd have been like me now and I'd have been like him now. Yeah the genes may count too, but that's far too complex to judge. Then again, if you trace back, the gene differences came because of diverse circumstances that all of us lived under.
After a 2 hour chat on various things with him, (who is Pakistani by birth) that make you feel homesick or at home, I realized that the same things that used to irritate me at home (India) will be more tolerable for me.
I miss the crowd.
I miss the chaos.
I miss the roads (or at places, the lack of it).
I miss the people.
I miss the food.
I now am thankful that I came here to study. I now know what I missed when I was in it! In the thick of the things!
Most of all, perhaps, my mom reminding me "Do you have your wallet with you? Does your wallet have money? Do you have your cellphone?" And I'd stop her halfway and grumble that she thinks I'm an irresposible kid.
Only to come back in 5 min, sheepishly smiling and admitting, "I forgot my bike keys!"
More on related things in my forthcoming posts. I'm thinking these now because it's been 1 year since I left home (India) and I was so mentally prepared that I didn't even let the thought of homesickness mention itself... Now, it's hard to stop these thoughts!
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Play!!!
"Time to play gentlemen!" I didn't hear that actually but I finally played cricket. Raingod was merciful towards Raingod and others in the team. A long drive (3 hours) from Chicago to Springfield was made more sullen when we realized that the umpire decided to toss the coin without us because we were late. Our captain, Amer Khan, wasn't very happy because we had, as a visiting team, some grace time.
It didn't matter. After first two overs going very economical, our bowler Ali struck. It was a difficult catch because it was taken running backwards (a la Kapil Dev). That the ground was uneven and damp made this catch even more difficult. If I were the fielder I'd have dropped it or not reached it. As it is I was always a close in fielder, who'd do extremely well in ground fielding and inner circle catching. Never was an outfielder.
Soon it was 3 and then 5 wickets down. The batting team didn't seem to be getting anywhere. I was wondering if it indeed was possible to get a team out within 100 runs in a 40-over game. As it happened, we bowled a tight line and held our catches. Most of them were at 1st slip. 2 of them were by Moatsim Bajwa (Moshi bhai). He held one by his right hand - a quick reflex catch and the other was held low, just above the ground. He later completed a fine spell of bowling though he missed taking a hat-trick. Just for the hat-trick ball we all stood close by.
Moshi bhai looks like Waqar Younis. I said that to him. "Did anyone tell you look like Waqar?"
"Yeah some have..."
"Why don't you bowl like him too? (I was hinting at speed because he is a super bowler. Difficult to get away and has slow in-swing.)
He is a chirpy and a fun man. Just being around him gives an extremely comforting feeling.
So we got the team all down for 54 runs, the last wicket having fallen when they were attempting a second run of a brilliant fielder! (me) ;) I am really struggling with my right shoulder and I promised to take a doctor's appointment. My throws are just not as sharp and well-directed.
The batting order was decided. The openers were to play and complete the game for us. I was to go 5 down. As the batsmen were playing, I got restless. I needed to bat. I asked Moshi bhai if it would be doing too much to tolerate if I wanted to play in the nets for a bit. He said, "Suuuuuurre!" I am yet to see him discourage me for anything like this.
Kamran bowled gentle offspinners. I was lost for the 1st 4 balls. I started picking up. Ali, who looked sceptical of the idea of my going to bat in the nets, showed up and bowled a few at me. He gave me tips when I edged a few. It was nice. I was feeling very confident. Ali sledged me whenever I hit a confident stroke off him. It was fun, though he wasn't easy to handle in the nets too.
My confidence was a positive wave. I was being observed. I went back to join my team and asked Moshi bhai for feedback on my batting. "My feedback is that your batting in the nets made Amer decide that you'll go 1 wicket down if at all..."
"Thanks but I was seriously asking your feedback."
"Serious bhai! We were discussing when you were confidently playing your strokes. Launda confident lag raha hain. Isko bhejte hain!" (Guy is confident. Let's send him next.)
And so when the 1st wicket fell at 52, I had to be there to finish the game. I joined our wicket-keeper and opener, Vajid. Amer bhai asked me to be wary of the owler. He was supposed to be really deceptively good.
So I take guard, minus chest guard and thigh guard. That was supposed to worry me. I recently had injuries because of lack of protective gear. But the confidence I was in, I was looking to finish in the next few minutes.
1st ball!!! Here it was. Went forward to a left arm over, medium bowler. I got a genuine edge which was missed by the slip. I went through for the 1st run in my rekindled career. Vajid finished off the match with 2 singles (1 of the last ball and off the 1st ball of the next over). He felt bad for denying me the chance to hit the winning run. All is well. He more than made up by gifting me his chest guard.
An early finish saw us back home by 6pm. Looking forward to my next game on saturday (June 20th) at Washington Park, Chicago.
Friday, June 12, 2009
License to conquer
What is it about a Driving License that makes you feel strong; makes you feel confident?
Is it that you have been certified to drive alone? But why don't you feel the same about any other official document which gives you an identity. How about a college ID, even a reputed one, for that matter?
Perhaps the photo identity, age proof and address proof - all in one - give it the ultimate-document-to-posses status. Very bland? Not so convincing? What difference does having all these proofs in one or in 3 different documents make?
Perhaps it is license itself - license to drive - that gives one the confidence, pride and satisfaction. At subconscious level you know that you are free. Free to take on the world. Free to roam the world (or at least as far as the roads can take you). Free to feel free.
It tells you at the inner level that people have faith in you, your abilities and your reliability. It tells you (Funny that IT has to tell you):
1 - You're not suicidal.
2 - You're not a criminal or murderer who gleefully visualizes human bodies being trampled by car tires.
3 - You won't refer to your restlessness, frustrations or thoughts triggering these emotions.
4 - You're mature as your age suggests (Assuming mental age is at least close to the physical age).
4 - VERY IMPORTANTLY, even if the others in/on the vehicle sleep, you'll not prioritze your sleep over your driving!
So, in all, it is my pick as the sole document that can reform your attitude towards life. Something that even a passport can't do, to that extent!
Is it that you have been certified to drive alone? But why don't you feel the same about any other official document which gives you an identity. How about a college ID, even a reputed one, for that matter?
Perhaps the photo identity, age proof and address proof - all in one - give it the ultimate-document-to-posses status. Very bland? Not so convincing? What difference does having all these proofs in one or in 3 different documents make?
Perhaps it is license itself - license to drive - that gives one the confidence, pride and satisfaction. At subconscious level you know that you are free. Free to take on the world. Free to roam the world (or at least as far as the roads can take you). Free to feel free.
It tells you at the inner level that people have faith in you, your abilities and your reliability. It tells you (Funny that IT has to tell you):
1 - You're not suicidal.
2 - You're not a criminal or murderer who gleefully visualizes human bodies being trampled by car tires.
3 - You won't refer to your restlessness, frustrations or thoughts triggering these emotions.
4 - You're mature as your age suggests (Assuming mental age is at least close to the physical age).
4 - VERY IMPORTANTLY, even if the others in/on the vehicle sleep, you'll not prioritze your sleep over your driving!
So, in all, it is my pick as the sole document that can reform your attitude towards life. Something that even a passport can't do, to that extent!
Monday, June 1, 2009
When listening obediently gave me a card of joy...
I got my Illinois State Driving License today. I'd have been surprised if I didn't. I drove a lot in India and somehow the mental driving that I did here didn't scare me much. I thought, a hands-on session before the test and I should be through. I don't know if this term was coined by anyone before but I picked it up from my dad.
I had about a 30-min drive during which I instilled confidence in the instructor and, more importantly, me. She gave me and another person taking the test today useful tips about most likely instructions by an examiner. At the reception, where they give tokens, the lady greeted me, took my documents (Passport, Social Security Card and Bank Statement) for verification and looked at me and said, "Varuuuun?"
I looked half-puzzled. I didn't mean to. It was just hunger I guess. Or maybe as my friends put it, it was my regular "the perennial lost/confused/ question-mark-face look".
"Varuun! Is that how you pronounce your name?" (She must have thought I don't much follow English.)
"Yeah, that's right! Varun!"
"Ahh! I am very smart this morning, for a blonde..."
I noticed that she was a blonde. I chuckled and half shook my head as if to mean, "Naaah! Don't demean yourself..." I refrained from asking her about Monday morning blues. As it is it was raining in the morning and I don't know of many people who look forward to Monday Mornings at work.
At the counter where the processing was to be done, I walked up and submitted my documents.
"I wish to take the Driving test," I requested.
She looked blank! I wondered if the blues had something behind the look. I wore a blue t-shirt too. (I had a choice of other colors. But...) I have this irritating habit of going against my beliefs and superstitions, often. A lady spoke from behind her.
I figured that the lady from behind was training the lady at the counter. I was relieved that it wasn't anything to do with the blues. Poor lady was nervous. "Ahhhh!" I thought.
For some moments I was contemplating trying to create some fuss just to shake her up a bit. That thought hardly lasted a few microseconds!
I had a mental picture of the instructions that the examiner would give me during the test. I was confident about the test. I sat in the car and waited for the examiner to appear and take the seat next to me.
"Hi! How are you," I greeted.
Pause...
Pause... (The two pauses would sum up to a time duration of 1 second, but a greeting so cheerful should have evoked a chirpy response from anyone! If I was expecting a Driving license granted with a pat on my back, just for the cheerful greeting, I agree I was expecting too much. Surely a happy "Hi!" in return shouldn't have hurt him a lot.
He looked very austere and reticent. "Okhaye! Leth me see yourr thaw-cuments," (the thaw is a pronounciation key. To be pronounced like 'th' as in 'there') he said with a heavy accent that told me he spoke Spanish and was very likely from Mexico. Through the grim look I somehow read that he wasn't going to be mean. I saw in him a fatherly feeling waiting to hand me my license.
"Now leesen thu mee cayrrfully. I am yorr examinerr. I will give you the instrucsyons well in ath-vaans," and some more statements, the order of which I th-on't rrremember.
We moved. He asked me to turn right as we exited the venue onto the streets. I gave the indicator and was well on course. Just at the gate, I suddenly imagined that it was a "No-right turn" sign at the gate. For a moment (nanosecond) I wondered if he was trying to trick me to see my presence of mind. I quickly changed the indicator to left at the Stop sign and then realized that the road was not a one-way. So I could indeed take a right turn there. Horror!!!
Why does my imagination pitch in at wrong times? I changed to right turn again. All this happened in a span of 1 second during which I also heard him gently say, "No, rrright, rright!" I didn't dare explain my whole train of thought. (I have had people laugh at me when I tell them about my imagination. Some are bemused too.) Despite the muddle followed by a mumbling explanation that it changed to left by accident I continued confidently with my eyes opened wider. I was going straight and 'well in advance' of the expected instruction to turn left, I dind't get any instruction. Always the one to be ready for surprises (sometimes convert regularities/ non-existent surprises to surprises) I thought he was taking me on another route. At the stop sign I was to take a left, but because he didn't say anything I continued on the straight lane. And at the last moment he says, "Left here."
Horror! I crossed the dotted line from where I was to switch lane if I was to turn left. So it was not legal to take a left. I wanted to tell him that. But he almost had his hand on my steering so I realized that he wanted a left there and nothing else would do. In Chicago, if you miss a turn, you could very often turn on the next street and turn again to come back to where you originally wanted to. These theories, I told myself, didn't have a patient taker.
I looked through all my mirrors and gently crossed into the left lane. He was happy I watched the mirrors for traffic from behind. At the stop sign, it was my turn to go, but this whole thing left me fumbling a bit. I was disturbed that the examiner made me do something illegal (sort of). A lesser mortal would have broken down. I have nerves of steel (Titanium perhaps...)! What else would you expect me to have when most of my life I throw myself into trouble; I spring surprises on myself? I wanted to remove the fumble from my mind and as my dad so often taught me, "Err on the safe side", I didn't see any harm in taking a fraction of a second to settle myself before proceeding.
"Naaauuww! Move Naauwww! Ptchchch! Phhuuffff! Now wait. Watch. Mooov naauuw."
For each of those instructions, I vaguely remember my answers as, "Huh? Yes but... (interruption. This is where the Ptchch came) Errrr. But now I have to wait (I knew what I was doing, but he didn't have the confidence that I'd stop). Ok Now I'll move." At this point if I didn't move, more than the trailer (moving opposite our direction) crashing onto us, I feared my examiner's wrath!
[What happened was that in taking the extra fraction of a moment, the opposite car who was to move after I took the left was confused. But just before the examiner said, "Now wait" at just the same time as I was explaining, "But now I have to wait..." that car moved. So I stopped. Which is great, considering the confusion. However he was unhappy I didn't move when it was my turn, which in turn happened because the 'turn left' was not well in ath-vaans. I believe that was in turn because he was busy trying to look at the Radio and AC knobs and somewhere on the streets.]
After I completed the left, he was almost at the peak of his voice, "Naaaauuwwww, stop there at the rrright."
"Over there? I pointed expecting that we were just moving on and he was asking me to make an expected parking. Horror! No!
"Rrriiighghghgt naaauww. Staaaappp! Naauuww. Naaauut at yor own swweetth thime!"
I gently pulled over to the side, kinda disturbed at the way things were proceeding. "Perhaps he was trying to shake me up and see how I react," I thought. (In hindsight, I didn't think that made sense but the fuss didn't make sense either...)
After some stern words to me about how things were to be taught by my instructor and not the examiner and how, he wondered, my instructor thought I was fit enough to drive and how the examiner's job is to examine and return home to his family and not land in an emergency ward in the hospital, during which all I said was, "Sure sir, yes sir, yes sir, sir, sir, ..." (I was trying to save syllables because the additional syllables didn't have time to be heard in that supposed-to-be-monologue)
I found it sort of ridiculous. I did my best in such a short notice and I didn't panic. I stopped at the stop sign, etc. I only waited an extra fraction at the sign before making the left. He thought my basics weren't right. "How th-oo yuu stop at the Stop sign? Tell me when you have khompleted yor anser an-th I will prrocee-th!"
"Uhhhmm come to a complete halt, sir."
"Are yuu th-one with yor answer?"
"Yes sir!"
"Naauw leesen thuu me!" And he rattled an animated lesson of how to stop and proceed at the stop sign and he took out his pen and said, "Naauw luk. Thees ees yor Stop sign." His finger was our car and he showed the finger stopping at the pen and waiting 3 sekunds, "Woun (pause), Tuu (pause), Three" The pauses, I tried to time, were exactly of a second in duration!!! He explained again.
"Naauuw. How dhu yuu parrkh a khar daauwnheel weeth the rroad khurving thu the rright?"
"Road curving to the right? Ummm, pull up the Emergency brake, keep the car in parking mode and turn the wheels to the right!"
"Ghh-oo-th. Very Gh-ood."
And after a few breaths, he asked me to be careful while once again emphasizing that he wanted to reach home and not elsewhere. He asked me to proceed. I, wanting to show that I haven't lost my cool, and I am a good driver, said, "Yes sir. I'll give the indicator and proceed."
I followed his instructions carefully. There were times when he was telling me when to start turning the steering wheel. It was annoying. All he should do is to tell me to turn, not how much to turn and when to turn. To make matters worse, the regular traffic would sometimes just come onto the main road though they had the mandatory Stop sign and I had my right of way. If I just proceeded my way, we'd probably have bumped into those cars, but I would brake just a wee bit to be under "khompleet khontrrol".
"No no! They have the Stop sign, not you. You shoul-th go."
"Ughghghgh! Would you rather have us crash into them and then explain the rules to them while failing me in the test" I wanted to ask. "I am just being careful because they don't know I am driving for a test," I wanted to add.
A couple of expected exercises and he asked me to park in the parking spot. He grimly marked circles and scribbled stuff on the marking sheet. I furtively looked into the sheet to see if I could gather something. I didn't know if I was supposed to look or not.
"Naauuww! Follow me tuu the fhoto centhur inside."
"Ok!"
My instructor raised her eyebrows to ask, "Positive?" I half nodded with that 'lost look'.
It slowly struck me that having a photograph take was not for a 'wanted' list but to print on my License card. I got it all done! I didn't even have any sensation, to feel happy. "What was it all about then!"
I guess it was my obedient listening and not trying to explain things that saved my day. My first instructor, my dad, more often than not, got answers and explanations. It was his zero-tolerance approach and strictness that trained me for such an eventful day. I am surprised I didn't lose my cool for a moment.
Thanks dad!
[Mental driving is something that is done by anyone other than the driver of a vehicle. Mental driving is actual driving minus the physical control of the vehicle. So you are driving in your mind with exactly the same reference as the driver's, only that you may brake earlier than the driver or steer gently to the left to center the vehicle in the lane. So a good mental driver needs just 5 min to understand the vehicle because he/she knows how the traffic is and has the experience of the roads.]
I was picked up by my instructor Mrs Araceli Villa in the morning at 7 am. I am not an early morning person at all. I am worse when I am made to not only start my day early but also start without breakfast. I didn't bother because my aim for the day was to somehow get myself a Driver's License.I had about a 30-min drive during which I instilled confidence in the instructor and, more importantly, me. She gave me and another person taking the test today useful tips about most likely instructions by an examiner. At the reception, where they give tokens, the lady greeted me, took my documents (Passport, Social Security Card and Bank Statement) for verification and looked at me and said, "Varuuuun?"
I looked half-puzzled. I didn't mean to. It was just hunger I guess. Or maybe as my friends put it, it was my regular "the perennial lost/confused/ question-mark-face look".
"Varuun! Is that how you pronounce your name?" (She must have thought I don't much follow English.)
"Yeah, that's right! Varun!"
"Ahh! I am very smart this morning, for a blonde..."
I noticed that she was a blonde. I chuckled and half shook my head as if to mean, "Naaah! Don't demean yourself..." I refrained from asking her about Monday morning blues. As it is it was raining in the morning and I don't know of many people who look forward to Monday Mornings at work.
At the counter where the processing was to be done, I walked up and submitted my documents.
"I wish to take the Driving test," I requested.
She looked blank! I wondered if the blues had something behind the look. I wore a blue t-shirt too. (I had a choice of other colors. But...) I have this irritating habit of going against my beliefs and superstitions, often. A lady spoke from behind her.
I figured that the lady from behind was training the lady at the counter. I was relieved that it wasn't anything to do with the blues. Poor lady was nervous. "Ahhhh!" I thought.
For some moments I was contemplating trying to create some fuss just to shake her up a bit. That thought hardly lasted a few microseconds!
I had a mental picture of the instructions that the examiner would give me during the test. I was confident about the test. I sat in the car and waited for the examiner to appear and take the seat next to me.
"Hi! How are you," I greeted.
Pause...
Pause... (The two pauses would sum up to a time duration of 1 second, but a greeting so cheerful should have evoked a chirpy response from anyone! If I was expecting a Driving license granted with a pat on my back, just for the cheerful greeting, I agree I was expecting too much. Surely a happy "Hi!" in return shouldn't have hurt him a lot.
He looked very austere and reticent. "Okhaye! Leth me see yourr thaw-cuments," (the thaw is a pronounciation key. To be pronounced like 'th' as in 'there') he said with a heavy accent that told me he spoke Spanish and was very likely from Mexico. Through the grim look I somehow read that he wasn't going to be mean. I saw in him a fatherly feeling waiting to hand me my license.
"Now leesen thu mee cayrrfully. I am yorr examinerr. I will give you the instrucsyons well in ath-vaans," and some more statements, the order of which I th-on't rrremember.
We moved. He asked me to turn right as we exited the venue onto the streets. I gave the indicator and was well on course. Just at the gate, I suddenly imagined that it was a "No-right turn" sign at the gate. For a moment (nanosecond) I wondered if he was trying to trick me to see my presence of mind. I quickly changed the indicator to left at the Stop sign and then realized that the road was not a one-way. So I could indeed take a right turn there. Horror!!!
Why does my imagination pitch in at wrong times? I changed to right turn again. All this happened in a span of 1 second during which I also heard him gently say, "No, rrright, rright!" I didn't dare explain my whole train of thought. (I have had people laugh at me when I tell them about my imagination. Some are bemused too.) Despite the muddle followed by a mumbling explanation that it changed to left by accident I continued confidently with my eyes opened wider. I was going straight and 'well in advance' of the expected instruction to turn left, I dind't get any instruction. Always the one to be ready for surprises (sometimes convert regularities/ non-existent surprises to surprises) I thought he was taking me on another route. At the stop sign I was to take a left, but because he didn't say anything I continued on the straight lane. And at the last moment he says, "Left here."
Horror! I crossed the dotted line from where I was to switch lane if I was to turn left. So it was not legal to take a left. I wanted to tell him that. But he almost had his hand on my steering so I realized that he wanted a left there and nothing else would do. In Chicago, if you miss a turn, you could very often turn on the next street and turn again to come back to where you originally wanted to. These theories, I told myself, didn't have a patient taker.
I looked through all my mirrors and gently crossed into the left lane. He was happy I watched the mirrors for traffic from behind. At the stop sign, it was my turn to go, but this whole thing left me fumbling a bit. I was disturbed that the examiner made me do something illegal (sort of). A lesser mortal would have broken down. I have nerves of steel (Titanium perhaps...)! What else would you expect me to have when most of my life I throw myself into trouble; I spring surprises on myself? I wanted to remove the fumble from my mind and as my dad so often taught me, "Err on the safe side", I didn't see any harm in taking a fraction of a second to settle myself before proceeding.
"Naaauuww! Move Naauwww! Ptchchch! Phhuuffff! Now wait. Watch. Mooov naauuw."
For each of those instructions, I vaguely remember my answers as, "Huh? Yes but... (interruption. This is where the Ptchch came) Errrr. But now I have to wait (I knew what I was doing, but he didn't have the confidence that I'd stop). Ok Now I'll move." At this point if I didn't move, more than the trailer (moving opposite our direction) crashing onto us, I feared my examiner's wrath!
[What happened was that in taking the extra fraction of a moment, the opposite car who was to move after I took the left was confused. But just before the examiner said, "Now wait" at just the same time as I was explaining, "But now I have to wait..." that car moved. So I stopped. Which is great, considering the confusion. However he was unhappy I didn't move when it was my turn, which in turn happened because the 'turn left' was not well in ath-vaans. I believe that was in turn because he was busy trying to look at the Radio and AC knobs and somewhere on the streets.]
After I completed the left, he was almost at the peak of his voice, "Naaaauuwwww, stop there at the rrright."
"Over there? I pointed expecting that we were just moving on and he was asking me to make an expected parking. Horror! No!
"Rrriiighghghgt naaauww. Staaaappp! Naauuww. Naaauut at yor own swweetth thime!"
I gently pulled over to the side, kinda disturbed at the way things were proceeding. "Perhaps he was trying to shake me up and see how I react," I thought. (In hindsight, I didn't think that made sense but the fuss didn't make sense either...)
After some stern words to me about how things were to be taught by my instructor and not the examiner and how, he wondered, my instructor thought I was fit enough to drive and how the examiner's job is to examine and return home to his family and not land in an emergency ward in the hospital, during which all I said was, "Sure sir, yes sir, yes sir, sir, sir, ..." (I was trying to save syllables because the additional syllables didn't have time to be heard in that supposed-to-be-monologue)
I found it sort of ridiculous. I did my best in such a short notice and I didn't panic. I stopped at the stop sign, etc. I only waited an extra fraction at the sign before making the left. He thought my basics weren't right. "How th-oo yuu stop at the Stop sign? Tell me when you have khompleted yor anser an-th I will prrocee-th!"
"Uhhhmm come to a complete halt, sir."
"Are yuu th-one with yor answer?"
"Yes sir!"
"Naauw leesen thuu me!" And he rattled an animated lesson of how to stop and proceed at the stop sign and he took out his pen and said, "Naauw luk. Thees ees yor Stop sign." His finger was our car and he showed the finger stopping at the pen and waiting 3 sekunds, "Woun (pause), Tuu (pause), Three" The pauses, I tried to time, were exactly of a second in duration!!! He explained again.
"Naauuw. How dhu yuu parrkh a khar daauwnheel weeth the rroad khurving thu the rright?"
"Road curving to the right? Ummm, pull up the Emergency brake, keep the car in parking mode and turn the wheels to the right!"
"Ghh-oo-th. Very Gh-ood."
And after a few breaths, he asked me to be careful while once again emphasizing that he wanted to reach home and not elsewhere. He asked me to proceed. I, wanting to show that I haven't lost my cool, and I am a good driver, said, "Yes sir. I'll give the indicator and proceed."
I followed his instructions carefully. There were times when he was telling me when to start turning the steering wheel. It was annoying. All he should do is to tell me to turn, not how much to turn and when to turn. To make matters worse, the regular traffic would sometimes just come onto the main road though they had the mandatory Stop sign and I had my right of way. If I just proceeded my way, we'd probably have bumped into those cars, but I would brake just a wee bit to be under "khompleet khontrrol".
"No no! They have the Stop sign, not you. You shoul-th go."
"Ughghghgh! Would you rather have us crash into them and then explain the rules to them while failing me in the test" I wanted to ask. "I am just being careful because they don't know I am driving for a test," I wanted to add.
A couple of expected exercises and he asked me to park in the parking spot. He grimly marked circles and scribbled stuff on the marking sheet. I furtively looked into the sheet to see if I could gather something. I didn't know if I was supposed to look or not.
"Naauuww! Follow me tuu the fhoto centhur inside."
"Ok!"
My instructor raised her eyebrows to ask, "Positive?" I half nodded with that 'lost look'.
It slowly struck me that having a photograph take was not for a 'wanted' list but to print on my License card. I got it all done! I didn't even have any sensation, to feel happy. "What was it all about then!"
I guess it was my obedient listening and not trying to explain things that saved my day. My first instructor, my dad, more often than not, got answers and explanations. It was his zero-tolerance approach and strictness that trained me for such an eventful day. I am surprised I didn't lose my cool for a moment.
Thanks dad!
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