Post Christmas: A Bad Start

A month ago, I was packing my baggage for my Christmas holidays. Even though I had to travel over 50 hours to reach my home sweet destination, the excitement that carries with the feeling of meeting old friends, the simple thought of Christmas, and the feeling of being home exceeds all. After a prolong wait for the semester exam to get over, I  wished my friends an early “Merry Christmas and Happy New Year”, bade goodbyes and zoom away.

I did not left Delhi soon after though. When I reach the train station, I came to know that my train was delayed for 5 hours and 15 minutes. It was near midnight by then. I have no option but to spend the night at the station. I move around the station aimlessly. Counting every second as it passed by, it was an endless night. People were all around me sleeping their night away peacefully. I couldn’t sleep. I was not accustomed to spend my night like this. The cold added to my sleeplessness. The chilly winter cold of Delhi can be daunting, it bites you to the bone. The ordeal ended the next morning when we start-off the journey.

A month later, I am back to Delhi. I am back to my hostel. The cold still bites and I waited for that time of the year where the cold is left with no courage to bite you any longer. It is not summer. I do not mean Delhi’s summer, mind you. I love winter, and hate it at the same time, so is summer. The reasons of which are obvious. Every season has its side, probably this is what nature is meant to be.

My fourth semester has started a week ago. I have not attended any classes till now. The whole week I rarely go out of my hostel. Watching movies, eating and sleeping, the days went by. I do not know if there is a medical term for this, but a certain kind of weakness came over me. I could no longer stand on one leg, I have difficulty stepping to my bed from the floor, I could not rise up without the support of my hand. I am naturally thin, and I consider myself healthy but I have now turn into a solid rigid body. And so yesterday morning, I was on my way to college. I was a little late and I do not want to miss any classes on the first day, so I tried to run. I had forgotten that a weakness still reign over my body. I lifted my right leg, and I realized then that I couldn’t lift my left leg like I used to. I stumbled and as I do not have the strength to support myself, fall flatly on the ground. I do not feel any pain and so I reckoned there was no injury. However, some minutes later, I start to feel some pain on my left toe. I had put on socks because of the cold. I remove my shoes but not the socks to check if there was blood or anything as such. I see nothing wrong and so I move on to the metro station. Minutes later, the pain becomes unbearable and I started to feel nauseous. I feel like vomiting and my head starts getting dizzy. Everything become blurry and I knew something was very wrong. I stepped out of the metro at the next station, rest for a while and remove my socks to see the inevitable. The nail on my big toe was all dark, ohh, what a sight. I must have stumbled on something hard. I took first aid and slowly went back to my hostel. Few hours later the pain become unbearable. Ouch… Because of the pain, I couldn’t even sleep at night.

4 days on, today I am feeling a little better. I do not know how long it will take before I am out of this ordeal. What a bad way to start off my semester. Hoping for a restart to solve this. And by the way, my strength seem to have come back to me. I can stand on one leg, and do all the things that I wasn’t able to do few days ago.

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A plan-less Summer

My second semester exam got over two weeks ago. As I came out of the exam hall after every paper, I was asked how my paper went. I would give the same reply every time every day- not too good, but the best I could do, wait for the result. To be honest, preparation for every paper was not satisfactory. There were gaps for days between papers, best suited for movie marathon instead of studying. A boring movie become exciting during exam season. Any paper of mine was not to the level of getting even an A-, but like my reply, I cannot do better than that. Maybe my mind is full, and I cannot take more.

A question I seldom asked myself why I never bother to update or post something on a blog I made. Everything seems interesting and lively at first, but with the passing time, it began to die down. This line seems relatable with human relationship, ahhh… There might be many insidious reasons why I didn’t bother to post here. It might be because this blog is boring (yeah I know that anyway), or it might be because I was busy (No, I wasn’t), it also might be because I have nothing to write (haha hell yeah), or maybe my internet connection was down (Yeah, goodwill of a neighbour, giving me free unlimited wifi for over a week now. Or else I might still be underground).

As I crossed the college gate on the day my semester exam got over, everyone was discussing what they are going to do during the summer. Some were going home, some were going for vacation, some for internship. When asked what I will be doing during the break, I told them that I would be in Delhi beating the summer’s heat of Delhi. I did not have any plan then. I do not usually make plans. I take each day with what life gives me.

The break starts, we do not come to college anymore, we do not see each other’s faces anymore. The common thing that binds us all was Facebook. Very soon, Updates from friends with status like “hooooooommmmeeeeeeeee….”, “finally”, “Paris <3 J'arrive ”, etc. filled my homepage. Some were checking in at IGI International Airport, some at New Delhi Railway Station and some at an airport in another country. Soon, they started uploading their photos with location tag – Shimla, Darjeeling, Andaman, New York, etc. The whole time I was in Delhi, the temperature rising each day. Today’s headline goes- “Delhi’s hottest day in 15 years”. Next day headline – “Delhi heating up, hotter and hotter”. The next day headline – “Delhi mercury to rise higher”, and so on.

I am a movie buff. Hollywood romantic comedy tops my list, followed by Hollywood action, drama, documentary or just anything Hollywood except horror movie which I have no taste. Though I like Indian stars like Priyanka Chopra, Alia Bhatt, Parineeti Chopra, Kareena Kapoor, Anushka Sharma, and so on, I was never a fan of Bollywood. I am not sure what intrigued me to start watching Bollywood, but during this two-week times I have watched over 20 Bollywood movies. All thanks to my neighbour, my torrent feed has always some movies downloading and I never ran out of movies to watch. With subtitles, everything is cool. In some movies, there will be shots from places I have seen with my eyes. To me, this is a nice feeling. Though movies from the late 1990s and early 2000s are amazing, I prefer to watch movies of 2010s.

So anyway, I still have around a month and a half until semester starts. My brother has been telling me I should work and earn for my pocket money. Being from a low-income middle class family with no government employee in the family, self-earning is always the answer if I want to buy something costly. Though my parents never refused any of my demand, sometimes I feel bad myself and shattered that they do not have much source of income back home. My brother said I should get a job in a call centre and maybe buy myself some new clothes and other things I have been longing for long. Everybody needs money. I do. But I do not want to do that. The truth is, I have experience ‘that’. After my 12th, my parents, relatives, elders, everybody wanted me to become a doctor. I went to Imphal to take coaching for a medical examination. After a long four months stay there, I began to realize that being a doctor was not the life I wanted. I came home and told my parents all about it. They were not happy at first. Those four months had become useless. I have spent my time and their money. I came to Delhi with no after thought of the outcome. I tried to earn. I went for interview and got a job. The only job for a twelfth passed and someone who does not know how to speak Hindi is to work at a call centre. I had a good time meeting new friends, working in a fancy building on the fifth floor, speaking a Canadian accent, adjusting to the time zone of the West, everything was so much fun. Barely after a month had passed, the fun began to died down, pressure came up from every corner, the salary was not handsome when compared to the amount of work we did, we were required to achieve a “Sale” or two every day (night). We were treated like machines. We are humans. We have a body which needed rest. I gave up. Period.

I gave up, and I am not ready to go in again yet. I have a life.

I have a craze for travelling since ages. Though I haven’t really travelled to much places, I am going to start the journey. This one and a half month seem like the perfect break to go for one.

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Not a genuine Indian, Maybe

Much has been said, there have been enough talks, it has made headlines. Yet every morning, fresh cases echoed into our ears and it never cease. This happened not to everyone, not to their family, not to their relatives, and not to their countrymen.Pun intended.

Ever since I was born, I was never told that I am not an Indian. I was a proud Indian. I learned the history of our great empires and dynasties. I learned about the history of our freedom struggles and how our country got independence from the British's rule. Every year when Republic Day comes, I along with all my friends would rush to my uncle's place who has a TV to watch live the Republic Day event happening far away in the capital city of the country. How I wish I was there. On that day, every state takes turn to demonstrate their rich culture and how proud I feel to see my Manipur lining up the queue. I never knew that Manipur was not a part of India. Every 15th August, I feel proud to be an Indian when I  sing "Jana Gana Mana...." with all my friends, without giving a thought that it was the anthem of another country, and not my own.

When I first came to Delhi, I never thought or even imagine that I would be treated like an "outsider" in my own country. I never knew that the North Eastern states of India were not a part of India. I never knew that North East India was in Nepal or in China. I never knew that I would be racially abused because of my looks.

When I start college at the University of Delhi, I never imagine that my fellow classmates would called me an outsider, a foreigner, a Nepali, a chinky and throws buckets of questions about my identity and the place where I come from.

When I tell my seniors that I cannot speak Hindi, I never imagine that I would be mocked and laughed at, asked about the country where I come from and many other strange questions.

Delhi as a city was, and still is, my love. I liked the city from every angle; the good, the bad and everything that is in it. I don't mind being called a "Nepali" or "chinky" by someone who is illiterate. My landlord who is illiterate used to called me a Nepali when I first moved in, I would tell him that I am not a Nepali but an Indian coming from an Indian state called Manipur which is much bigger than Delhi. When the 'pani'-guy (water) refer me as "chinky" to his subordinates, for they do not know.

People say ignorance is bliss and I ignored as much as I could, for I know this could happened anywhere, even in my part of the country where someone of a typical looking Indian be called a foreigner.

But should I remain silent when this is done intentionally? Should I keep ignoring when an educated fellow called me names? All this because I don't "looked like an Indian". How should an Indian looked like? India is a country of diverse culture and traditions, I have a firm believe that every literate people know about this.

In my first year of college, I had to filled a form and I had missed to put a signature in the form. The guy who was handling the papers told me something in Hindi which I didn't quite understand. I told him to repeat in English as I don't understand Hindi. Instead of repeating, he asked me which country I came from. I told him I am from India, he didn't believe me and thought it was a joke and gave a strange laugh. Just because I couldn't speak Hindi, I was treated like an outsider. To them, an Indian should know "how to speak Hindi". They speak Hindi not because they are Indian, but because it is their mother-tongue. Likewise, I have my mother-tongue. Being from a land where Hindi is not spoken, my knowledge of the language is limited to buying veggies, hiring and negotiating autos and bargaining at the famous Saroijini Market.

Every day after college, I had to take either the bus or the metro to reach home. At bus stop, almost every auto drivers would asked me where I was going because they thought I was a foreigner who will not use public transport. The same happened when I stepped out of metro stations, all because I don't look like an Indian.

Inside the class, there is no direct discrimination in my near surrounding but sometimes I am left out of conversations because I don't know how to speak Hindi. There is a guy who constantly called me a Nepali, no matter how much I keep telling him I am not from Nepal. He would make fun of me in his native tongue, I do know what but I could understand the sarcasm in his tone. He has the guts to even asked me: "Why did you come to my country?" "Is there any college in your country?". He knew well I am an Indian, from the many introductions we did when college begins. His intentions were clear, he doesn't want an "outsider" in his class.

There is an old woman (I am not giving the respect of calling her "grandma") living across the next building. Whenever I cross the building, she would always stared at me because I am an "outsider".

While travelling on the bus or in the metro, passengers would gave weird glances at me, because I am an "outsider".

I am proud to be who I am. I am proud of my Mongoloid looks.I am not a proud Indian. I am not proud to be an Indian. Maybe I am wrong to call myself an Indian.

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I too had a Love Story

First off, the title of this post is borrowed. I use that because that line comes to mind when I think of love and the roller coaster that come along with it. Since it is Valentine's Week, I think it won't be a bad idea to blog about the story of my dramatic love experiences. Unlike in the West, the wave of Valentine's day in the countryside is weak. Only text text text and more texts. For the whole week, the many enthusiastic friends I had will constantly keep forwarding me texts with the name of the day as is in Valentine's culture saying I have to propose a girl on a particular day and so and so. Funny though. Finally, the day will come, everyone expecting a lot to happened. Yet, it doesn't, and it won't. It is just another day for those falling in my category, the so-called "single".

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By saying I am single, I do not meant to say that I have always been single. I'd been in love, been loved and had been in relationship, too. The first time I saw someone "pretty" was while I was in Class - II, to a girl in my class. I can't actually remember now how she looked like, but I guess she was beautiful, or else why would she stand out? However, after a couple of months, she went to another school and we lost each other. In Class IV, a new girl came to my class. She was not the prettiest girl, but the way she act and the way she treat others (or me, in particular), I was totally drawn into her. We become friends- good friends. We spent many happy hours together- the short break, the long break and most of the free time we got at school. This goes on for more than a year till, unfortunately, I had to changed school in June the following year. There was no phone then, and we lost track of each other. Sometime in early 2012, our path crossed again, we reminisced our old childhood days- the days we spent together, so young and naive. Few months later, she told me she was already engaged. Now she has a son, her husband works in a bank, and she is still beautiful. She was beautiful, and she still is.

In Class VIII(2007?), there was an inter-school football match. I saw a girl from another school, and she was an angel. She was the prettiest girl I have ever seen in my life. I asked my friends if they know her name or who she was. Except her name, no one know who she was, or where she was from. They knew her name probably because they had asked around, and yes, they did, I find out later. Few weeks passed, I finally got to meet her, and two months later, we were in a relationship. There was no phone then (I was told I was still a kid then), and since we don't live nearly each other; we wrote letters, maybe a dozen of them. Three (Four?) months later, I found out she was cheating on me and our relationship ended. In 2013, I heard news she eloped with a friend of mine.

2008 was a leap year and I hope everyone know what could happened in a leap year (if you don't, go here). A junior from my school proposed me. I wasn't expecting such a turn in my love life. I mean, I was thinking to, maybe fall in love with a student from my class, that way it is more romantic or so I thought. This relationship lasted till the end of my high school life. We didn't actually broke up, but agreed to keep a break during my board exam. I never come back.

In the year 2011, in my Class XII, I turn 18. My parents thought I would do better in my board exam if I stayed in hostel, rather than with friends. So I was taken to a hostel in the school campus. There was a girls' hostel just next to mine, and in that hostel, there was a girl. She was 17. We had the best relationship. Since both of us were in hostel, we couldn't meet often. We met at odd hours, college hours, or during holidays. We exchanged countless gifts. Late night talks become regular. I don't really remember how this relationship came to an end. We haven't officially broke up yet, honestly. But I am single now.

Apart from these few whom I had been in relationship with, there are some more girls I proposed and had been in relationship, but none lasted for more than 2 months. Most of them are still good friends, and a few turn into enemy. I cannot help.

Valentine's Day is almost here, and I am single; the perfect situation to save one's pockets...haha

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365 Days: Oh that's a Year

Date: 18th January 2013

Time: 12 noon

Raining

The train came to a halt. Though a year has already passed, everything that happened right there was still fresh on his mine. It was January, it wasn't suppose to rain, he thought. Growing up from a land with a rich cultural history and traditions, and superstitions; he had heard a saying which goes that when it rained unexpectedly in a place someone had just arrived, it is a welcome sign that the sky had acknowledged his presence. It's not that he believe in myths but he knew it was a sign, good or bad.

His whole life, he was confined more to the countryside and not a city. The sight that lies before him, it made him overwhelmed with amazement. This wasn't the sight he had expected, what was he expecting then? Indeed he hasn't thought about anything. A week ago, he was in his native village wondering what to do with his life.

His whole life, people keeps telling him that he has to become a doctor. After the completion of his twelfth examination, he was admitted to a medical coaching institute in a nearby city. Though he was not so sure if being a doctor was what he wanted, but the pressure that his parents and relatives gave him, he was driven to it. To the world of his parents and relatives, a medical doctor was the perfect profession, in the line with engineers and IAS officers. Every parents in his community has dreams of their sons and daughters becoming anyone of these three. To them, all other professions are secondary and are professed by weaker people who does not want happiness in their life. 

The good marks he scored and the countless pressures that poured in, he had no choice but to take the path created by his parents and relatives. Three months passed,  he knew deep in his heart that he was heading the wrong way and he start to realize how he would eventually regret taking this path sooner or later. A doctor was not what he wanted with his life to be. Though he might become rich and healthy, with the perfect job and the "Dr" tag in his name, like his parents has always dreamed, he knew he was never going to attained this, he knew he would end up hating himself waking up each morning for the rest of his life.

Finally, he decided to stop this before he come to a place where there was no turning back. When this news broke out, the response was overwhelming. With a population of over 7000 in more than 400 houses, a hospital and a PHC, the village still lacks a doctor, among many others.  When a certain boy who made news few months back that he is trying to pursue the medical profession; and then after 4 months, overturn it; it made headlines.

The confusions created by people around him and the never-ending talks from relatives, it was psychologically disturbing to him. Everyone in the community has hope that he would become the first ever doctor from his community. Although attaining this title won't be so bad, he wanted to escape from this nerve-wrecking confusions and chaos. He has a brother who lives in Delhi, maybe he could help. Maybe he could help him escape. Sigh.

And there he stands on the platform in an unknown foreign land, with a bag next to him. This was a dream, this cannot happened. Everything looked strange to him, he hasn't see anything like this before.  Along with three other travelers, they stepped out of the station. Once outside, the environment was a total change. He could feel the cold winter wind on his face. The rain which hasn't stopped yet had flooded the whole area outside the station. He could hear the buzz of vehicles all around, cars honking at him from every directions, and yet he was excited. They called a taxi and then putting the baggage on the trunk of the vehicle, he took the window seat so that he could enjoy the view of the enchanted city as they headed to their destination. Like most taxis in the city, they hired an air-conditioned for a exciting and comfortable ride. It was a total change from what he sees back home. He was in another world. He feel himself like an officer travelling in the best car to attend the biggest event in the universe.

Being a new arrival, he could not  figure out which direction he was taken to. He saw buildings, tall buildings, perfect lane, greenery, parks, everything was paradise. About an hour later, they were taken to a smaller lane, and then to a neighborhood, till the taxi stop at a corner of a building. He thought this must be the place. Close enough, they told him they have reached. They took their bags and then enter into a building and then to a long hallway, and then the stairs that seems to almost touched heaven. At length, they knocked on a door, and someone opened and smiled, welcoming them to the room. He wasn't still so sure if this was all but a dream, this was too great to be real, too real to be a dream. It was not a dream, it was reality. He was in Delhi. He is in Delhi. That's my story.

This day last year, the 18th of January, I stepped on Delhi's soil and breath Delhi's air. Exactly a year ago today, I took to journey to where I am today. I still have a couple of years to stay in this great city I fall in love with. I don't know how things will pan out in the end, for now let us live with it.

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