Life Cycle of a Wall

I was walking down the street, with nothing much to do, thinking of ways to waste my time. I had about an hour to my next appointment. As I turned around corner, I saw a man staring at me. As I turned around I realized it was not me but the wall he was staring at. I continued walking. ‘But hold on’, I thought, ‘nobody stares at a wall. Maybe he was just window shopping’. I turned to check but it was a solid red brick wall. There were no windows and definitely no shops. ‘Probably a nutcase’, I thought. That was when I got a bright idea. I sat down on the footpath next the wall. The same wall which was being stared down by the other person. I sat there looking intently at the other person. He was around 35 years of age I guessed. He wore a pair of blue jeans. But I realized “Almost all jeans are some shade of blue. We definitely need more descriptors for jeans than just its colour. Especially since the branded ones cost an average of about Rs.1000.” I came to the conclusion that this pair of jeans the person was wearing was the shade of blue found on the seats of the Indian Railway compartments. The ones which are new. The person wore a cream colour shirt. The cream being, in this case, that of a butterscotch ice cream. When I looked op to the persons face I realized the he was looking back. He looked a bit uncomfortable. “Can’t blame him. He has a person sitting on the floor gawking at him studying the colours of his clothes. But hold on! Isn’t India the land of staring? Everyone stares. So why can’t I too?” But I discovered the truth, “You are allowed to stare only at people who look out of the place. This guy was wearing normal clothes and was normal in every sense.” He started tidying himself up though there was nothing wrong with him. He took out his napkin and wiped his face. And after giving me a sharp glance he walked off. “The converse of the Stare Rule has come into play. If you have someone staring at you, it implies that there is something wrong with you.” My eyes were following the person as he walked away. He turned back to look at me and when his eyes met mine, I gave a mischievous smile. He stopped in his tracks and started adjusting himself again. I thought, “Since this guy was staring intently at the wall, there must be something wrong with the wall.” I turned to look but found nothing interesting. It was a brick wall, comparatively new, probably only a year old. The red colour of the bricks was still shining. The wall was enclosing a school. “Maybe he was waiting to pick up his child from school. But wait. Shouldn’t he be waiting at the gate? How can staring at the wall solve anything? Was he a thief? But what can you steal in a school? Chalk!” I smiled at my own joke. “It is funny now but if I tell it to my friends, it becomes a PoorJoke. I think all jokes are lame if taken out of the context.” “Maybe he is going for the computers and things like that. He’s probably the scout and has come to check the place and make the plans. There may be others members in his gang.” But computers are not that costly and have very little resale value especially if it is stolen. “What else can you steal in a school? Maybe it is the fees collection time, there might be money lying around there. But isn’t this a government school. The fees here is quite low and wont add up to anything substantial.” “Is it possible that he was a Pink Floyd fan and was thinking about the meaning of ‘Another brick in the Wall’?” They referred to the wall that surrounded our minds. Bad teachers were just a part of it. And it was a brick wall just like this. And this was quite a big wall. It was more than five metres high. “Maybe the playground is on the other side and the wall was built to stop balls from flying out. Of course there is a bigger probability of it being built to keep the children from flying out, with the high dropout rates in schools.” At that time the school bell rang. I checked my watch to find that I myself had been staring at the wall for about half an hour. A I turned to move, I found another person staring at me and then at the wall. And I thought “The cycle continues”

A Kazha Mootha Adventure

May 02, 2009: This was today four of us, KMG, TGT, TVT and myself N5 decided to explore the darkness that lay beyond the much heard but little known region called Alathara. We began our journey following the road not much travelled by CETians, going towards Alathara. On the way we passed big towers that were coming up, tall in defiance of the countryside, great structures looking out to the sea. Onward we walked, without a target, following the same worn out road, leaving behind the hills which had great castles and palaces of the rich and famous lying in between the shacks and hovels of the downtrodden. A lot more of them were coming up here, leaving us amazed at how crass capitalism was destroying our countryside.

Then as we turned around a bend in the road, we caught our first sight of the great Akkulam Lake, glistening in the sunlight in all its majesty. Alas, for we were at a junction with two choices, to go either left or right. We searched for any signs which would tell us the way forward. But then the blistering heat of the high noon took over our mnds with the help of our kazha and we took the beaten road to the right. We advanced forward, ambling along the shores of the stately Akkulam Lake passing by many wonders, natural and manmade alike.

Soon we found our beaten track merging into the great NH Bypass. The road that carried vast amount of traffic at high speeds which left us amazed. We satiated our thirst at a wayside shop with lemon juice and soda and rested our feet. The keeper of the shop was amazed to hear of our journey till now but we told him that it was just the beginning leaving him dumbstruck. Others bid us good luck for our adventure. We bid them goodbye and turning south walked along the Bypass till we reached the bridge crossing the Akkulam Lake. A long bridge was this, spanning over 369 metres and built over six years, the construction being led by a woman chef engineer. We traversed the bridge slowly, marvelling at the beauty of the mighty Akkulam Lake. And slowly and steadily we had finally crossed. We looked back and the beginning of the bridge gleamed far away in the distance. We rested a little in the shade of a mango tree. Its branches were teasing us with bunches of its fruits hanging just out of reach. With the heave kotor traffic of the NH Bypass road to give us company and protection, we strolled ahead, viewing the many factories, car showrooms and other sights alongside the dusty road. We had a small lunch at a decrepit hotel offering only rice meals after which we walked till we reached another junction. 5

But there was a road sign here which read:

Kovalam 19 k.m.

Veli tourist village 2 k.m.

We were well aware of the limits of our kazha and with a sea wind cooling our minds, we turned west again, walking towards the other greater lake, Veli. We first reached the Kochuveli Railway Station. This was from where many long distance trains started. We found the Kochuveli-Bikaner Express lying at the first platform. We were now walking right on the railway tracks, filling our eyes with the majesty of the grand Indian Railways. We crossed the tracks and after a right turn and then a left turn we stumbled upon Veli. We entered the park and saw the various carvings and sculptures it had on display. With a little more rest we moved towards the beach and stood facing the wide open Arabian Sea. We strained our eyes hoping to catch a glimpse of any big ship but to no avail.

Our Kazha took us further south as we walked towards the beach of Shankumugham. We ambled along the beach with our pants folded up to our knees and our footwear in our hands. Befriending the dogs basking in the beach we moved forward, sometimes sighting crabs and other creatures in the beach. Littered along the beach were many bottles of alcohol which we tossed into the sea. Regrefully, we also found a few persons depositing their feaces in the sea. Inspite of al these distractions, we were progressing slower than we expected since the sand obstructed our speed. But we walked onward, crossing small creeks that joined with the sea. Finally we were close to our destination. We had reached within viewing distance of the Indian Coffee House building at Shankumugham. We found a bottle of red paint which we used to mark our presence and of our college’s on the new seawall constructed to protect in face of anther tsunami.

Crossing the beach we entered the ICH and ate and drank to our fill. We then walked towards the sculptures, one of the man resting on his back ever gazing at the sky and the stars and the other one of a beautiful mermaid sun bathing, basking in the glory of all nature. And so we came to the end of our journey with our kazha now diminished. We took a bus back to the hustle and bustle of the city and back to our daily lives.