It was a lazy Friday morning and I had lots to do at work. My plan was to reach office early and finish up my pending tasks quickly. However, as plans go - this went awry too. Usually, there was no one at home and so I have to lock up. The front door takes forever to lock. Most times, the key is stuck and refuses to turn and so I am invariably standing out side praying tht the key turns completely or kicking at the door - (like thts gonna help - well, I cannot stand there all day - right??) - when both suddenly show some mercy on me. This is my daily routine and I always get irritated when this happens. I also totally forget 'bout it as soon as I reach the basement to get my bike, which is why it has not been repaired, yet.
The moment I get on the bike, the security guard at our apartment decides to become a traffic policemen. He will rush outside and wave at vehicles that are travelling on the road, and let me know when I can pass. From previous experience, I know he will take forever. I intentionally speed up so I can get past him and onto the road. Luckily, for me there were no other vehicles. After a few moments, I realize that I am crinkling my eyes because of the sunlight and the dust and realize that in my hurry-burry I have managed to leave my helmet on the Diwan at home. Too late to think 'bout tht.
I reach our office premises and I am stopped by the Security Guard who checks my bag for bombs. You probably don't know that I lead a double life. I am a amiable, some actually call me sweet, tech writer during the day and a hindu fanatic bomber at nite - well, neither did I!!! There are no scary beeps. I do not intend to bomb our office today.
And then I am asked to open the dikky ( this is the term used to refer to the boot of the car). I stare dumbstruck as I know I am driving a Honda Activa (a 2 wheeler with no gears) as I am sure he can see. I assume he is talking to smne else, when he repeats his request. He points to the seat of my bike - the seat has a small storage compartment where most folks keep their helmet - tht was the boot aka dikky of my bike. Well.. Well.. Well.. It had my documents, a rag used for cleaning the bike, and Eureka NO BOMB!!! I was allowed to enter the premises.
As I navigate the amazing drive to reach the II floor of the parking area, we are stopped yet again by another security guard. I am furious now as I am now pretty late. I notice that two women are the cause for the delay. I notice that one lady is lifting a gas cylinder out of the boot of a car and transferring it to the other car. I am so furious now - I am all set to ram my bike against her car. Not only has she parked her car on the way it will be a while before she moves and so we have a pile-up at the entrance. Thanks to the fact that I ride a two-wheeler, I was able to get going in the limited space available, like all other two-wheelers. The guy sitting in the four-wheeler must be cursing his luck. He had a lloooong wait ahead!
The utter disregard for other ppl shocked me. Tht felt like a "Wah!! Kya Scene Hai!" moment for me.
Showing posts with label Security Guard. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Security Guard. Show all posts
Friday, February 27, 2009
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Hoovaa Beka?
It was pretty late in the evening on Tuesday when the doorbell rang. The three of us stared at each other - it was too late for a family-get-2gether and usually relatives call to let us know that they are coming by. I was closest to the door and so I moved forward to open it.
Two lil scrawny kids (a boy and a gal) are standing outside the door with one of their best smiles and shout out in unison "Hooova Beka, aunty?" meaning "Do you want Flowers, aunty?" - I was not sure which irritated me more: the fact that the kids called me aunty or that the security guard was obviously not at his place. I am tempted to shout "Illa" (NO) and slam the door shut but I don't want to send the kids back empty-handed. I decide to buy sm flowers - the arien walks up and tells the kids to get going. I glare at him and pay the kids 10 bucks for the jasmine garland and walk in amidst their "Thank you, Aunty"(s) feeling like a million bucks :)
As I walk in with the flowers, the arien tells me tht the flowers look like they are at least a day old and I finally notice that they don't look fresh :( I feel like a goof :( MIL tells me "It is ok - you helped the kids na? Lets decorate the swamy almirah while the flowers still look ok." We do that and I am kinda appeased. While I fall asleep, two thoughts are running in my head "Aunty??" and "Goof."
This results in me waking up crabby and when the bell rings and I find another set of scrawny kids and I notice tht their flowers are really bad looking - I slam the door shut after yelling "Illa". Is tht the end of this story? No.
As I return from work on Wednesday, I find that 4 groups of scrawny kids are eagerly awaiting my return... as soon as I reach the building all screaming "Aunty Aunty - Hoovaa Beka?" The sharp shake of the head is wilfully misunderstood as they scream and follow me into the building... I look around for the Security Guard - he is nowhere to be seen. I am totally furious, now. I am hounded by these brats and I am ready to yell. After saying "Illa" a zillion times - I try to make my way to my apartment and I find them blocking my way - the flower sellers have now transformed into beggars - "Namage Yeradu rupai kodi aunty" ("Give me two rupees aunty") "Please Aunty" and while I am trying to get away the Security Guard appears and mock-hits them with his towel - they all run away - I feel relieved and embarrassed.
As I walk up in a gruff mood, I am pretty surprised that these kids actually had a USP: they tried selling their flowers in twos - a boy and a gal, make good use of the time when the Security Guard is away, share their beaming smiles, call you aunty/uncle, and get you to buy flowers. If all that does not work - well, their back-up plan is to ask you for money. They were probably 5-7 years old... they sure had initiative :D Of course, I am still cheesed off 'bout the "Aunty" bit - well, more 'bout tht later :)
Two lil scrawny kids (a boy and a gal) are standing outside the door with one of their best smiles and shout out in unison "Hooova Beka, aunty?" meaning "Do you want Flowers, aunty?" - I was not sure which irritated me more: the fact that the kids called me aunty or that the security guard was obviously not at his place. I am tempted to shout "Illa" (NO) and slam the door shut but I don't want to send the kids back empty-handed. I decide to buy sm flowers - the arien walks up and tells the kids to get going. I glare at him and pay the kids 10 bucks for the jasmine garland and walk in amidst their "Thank you, Aunty"(s) feeling like a million bucks :)
As I walk in with the flowers, the arien tells me tht the flowers look like they are at least a day old and I finally notice that they don't look fresh :( I feel like a goof :( MIL tells me "It is ok - you helped the kids na? Lets decorate the swamy almirah while the flowers still look ok." We do that and I am kinda appeased. While I fall asleep, two thoughts are running in my head "Aunty??" and "Goof."
This results in me waking up crabby and when the bell rings and I find another set of scrawny kids and I notice tht their flowers are really bad looking - I slam the door shut after yelling "Illa". Is tht the end of this story? No.
As I return from work on Wednesday, I find that 4 groups of scrawny kids are eagerly awaiting my return... as soon as I reach the building all screaming "Aunty Aunty - Hoovaa Beka?" The sharp shake of the head is wilfully misunderstood as they scream and follow me into the building... I look around for the Security Guard - he is nowhere to be seen. I am totally furious, now. I am hounded by these brats and I am ready to yell. After saying "Illa" a zillion times - I try to make my way to my apartment and I find them blocking my way - the flower sellers have now transformed into beggars - "Namage Yeradu rupai kodi aunty" ("Give me two rupees aunty") "Please Aunty" and while I am trying to get away the Security Guard appears and mock-hits them with his towel - they all run away - I feel relieved and embarrassed.
As I walk up in a gruff mood, I am pretty surprised that these kids actually had a USP: they tried selling their flowers in twos - a boy and a gal, make good use of the time when the Security Guard is away, share their beaming smiles, call you aunty/uncle, and get you to buy flowers. If all that does not work - well, their back-up plan is to ask you for money. They were probably 5-7 years old... they sure had initiative :D Of course, I am still cheesed off 'bout the "Aunty" bit - well, more 'bout tht later :)
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Driving my Honda-Activa (Two-wheeler)
After months and months of taking the cab home - I was finally going to drive my two-wheeler after almost 7 months. I was a reckless rider before and usually scared the folks who rode pillion and so I did not think it was going to be difficult at all. Haven't we all heard that you can never unlearn cycling or swimming or biking. It may take a while to get started but you cannot really forget.
The morning went in a rush - waking up late, running arnd the house looking for the missing salwar, ironing the salwar, making coffee and then tea, picking up the newspaper, welcoming the maid who brought the the milk in, rushing for my bath, making a quick breakfast of Idlis, and waking the Arien up - all hpnd like one huge chain of events. I rush out, knowing I am already late and this was a foolish idea - Mondays and beginnings do not really go together.
I come down the stairs and look at my bike, a black Honda Activa, - it is dirty. Grrrr... I should have given it for servicing yesterday, instead of a week ago. Hunt for a cleaning cloth in all the bikes - find one that is a torn vest and so dirty that I want to cry that I have touched it. Decide not to look further - who knows what I may find :( Bike shall not be cleaned. The next thing I realize is that I cannot carry the phone in my hand. I remove the bag from my shoulder, put the phone in the front pocket of my bag, and then wear the bag again. I am already bugged and the drive is yet to start.
I put on the helmet. The helmet makes me feel claustrophobic. My forehead itches and I hit the visor of my helmet and then realize that I am wearing a helmet and cannot really reach my forehead that way at all. In fact, I cannot reach it at all unless I remove the damn helmet. I decide that the itch can wait. Jes FYI - I always hated the helmet - I used to drive 14 kms to my office without helmet b'cos I did not want my hair looking awful. That was until a policeman caught me and fined me Rs.200 for the offense. I have always worn my helmet, since then. :P
I start the vehicle successfully and move towards the gate - The Security Guard is standing outside the gate and waving at me to stop - which probably means a huge vehicle is coming tht way. A moped drives past. The old man (Security Guard) signals a Go. I stare at him and want to shout a thing or two - am prevented by the helmet and then, my vehicle stops. I start the vehicle and rush to the gate before the Security Guard can stop me for a kid on a tricycle and almost hit a lorry coming in the opposite direction. Oh well... my ride has begun.
I am terrified... I close my eyes everytime I see a vehicle too close for comfort. I am constantly hanging on to the brakes and so I am hardly moving at all. Everytime I accelerate, I hit the brakes n so its a kinda jerky jump ride - which was so not the way I rode before. :(
The traffic, of course, is awful. I finally reach the office - it has taken an hour and a half - and it is 11, now. The new helmet that the Arien got for me refuses to fit into the storage compartment of the bike - so I lug my bag, the laptop bag, and my helmet up three floors - I am out-of-breath, bugged, and my hair is so flat - I look awful. My colleague comments "What hpnd to ur hair?" - I decide not to reply and act as if I did not hear her comment. I am so tired of the bloody ride that I am all for taking the cab in the evening.
Do I want to do this again? REALLY?? Well, there were moments in the ride, when I felt the thrill of before - it oddly felt so liberating so I will def drive again. Hopefully it won't be as bad as this one - Fingers crossed.
The morning went in a rush - waking up late, running arnd the house looking for the missing salwar, ironing the salwar, making coffee and then tea, picking up the newspaper, welcoming the maid who brought the the milk in, rushing for my bath, making a quick breakfast of Idlis, and waking the Arien up - all hpnd like one huge chain of events. I rush out, knowing I am already late and this was a foolish idea - Mondays and beginnings do not really go together.
I come down the stairs and look at my bike, a black Honda Activa, - it is dirty. Grrrr... I should have given it for servicing yesterday, instead of a week ago. Hunt for a cleaning cloth in all the bikes - find one that is a torn vest and so dirty that I want to cry that I have touched it. Decide not to look further - who knows what I may find :( Bike shall not be cleaned. The next thing I realize is that I cannot carry the phone in my hand. I remove the bag from my shoulder, put the phone in the front pocket of my bag, and then wear the bag again. I am already bugged and the drive is yet to start.
I put on the helmet. The helmet makes me feel claustrophobic. My forehead itches and I hit the visor of my helmet and then realize that I am wearing a helmet and cannot really reach my forehead that way at all. In fact, I cannot reach it at all unless I remove the damn helmet. I decide that the itch can wait. Jes FYI - I always hated the helmet - I used to drive 14 kms to my office without helmet b'cos I did not want my hair looking awful. That was until a policeman caught me and fined me Rs.200 for the offense. I have always worn my helmet, since then. :P
I start the vehicle successfully and move towards the gate - The Security Guard is standing outside the gate and waving at me to stop - which probably means a huge vehicle is coming tht way. A moped drives past. The old man (Security Guard) signals a Go. I stare at him and want to shout a thing or two - am prevented by the helmet and then, my vehicle stops. I start the vehicle and rush to the gate before the Security Guard can stop me for a kid on a tricycle and almost hit a lorry coming in the opposite direction. Oh well... my ride has begun.
I am terrified... I close my eyes everytime I see a vehicle too close for comfort. I am constantly hanging on to the brakes and so I am hardly moving at all. Everytime I accelerate, I hit the brakes n so its a kinda jerky jump ride - which was so not the way I rode before. :(
The traffic, of course, is awful. I finally reach the office - it has taken an hour and a half - and it is 11, now. The new helmet that the Arien got for me refuses to fit into the storage compartment of the bike - so I lug my bag, the laptop bag, and my helmet up three floors - I am out-of-breath, bugged, and my hair is so flat - I look awful. My colleague comments "What hpnd to ur hair?" - I decide not to reply and act as if I did not hear her comment. I am so tired of the bloody ride that I am all for taking the cab in the evening.
Do I want to do this again? REALLY?? Well, there were moments in the ride, when I felt the thrill of before - it oddly felt so liberating so I will def drive again. Hopefully it won't be as bad as this one - Fingers crossed.
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