Category Archives: Life Story

Chennai Rains

Posted on by
Reply

I’m writing this post at 4:30 am, not sure when I’ll post it. I’ll tell you what Deja Vu is. It’s the feeling of having experienced something before. And, that’s something you can’t control. It’s feeling like Chennai has braced up for an eventuality.

The feeling I’m feeling now is fear, helplessness, and uncertainty. I faced the Chennai floods in 2015. I remember the days – my joining date in EY got pushed by a month due to this. There was lights out for a week, and we were eating whatever was edible. I can’t imagine what the less privileged would’ve felt then, and are feeling now – as the rains are relentless, and the winds are howling through the cracks. What I can describe is my experience.

The worst thing about 2015 floods was my entire family sitting in one room, because the other rooms were filled with furniture stacked atop bricks. A flood was imminent. You know things are rough when your parents and brother probe your autobiography out of you. ‘Why don’t you have as many friends as your brother?’, ‘Why do you always read English books?’, and such. I had to shout to make them shut up, and strangely enough, i was not reprimanded for shouting. Maybe they knew. Maybe the saw glimpses of a crack that would only widen up and show my rotten self barely 2 years later. Maybe they chose to ignore it. Maybe they were unaware, and i was aware and i chose to ignore it. Or maybe I really was unaware. Maybe.

This year, around Deepawali, we were notified of intense rains in second week of November. Do you know what us citizens did, without prompting? We stocked up on groceries and essentials. It rained heavily on 8-Nov, and the ones who had lived through 2015 immediately messaged each other asking them to stay safe. We, Chennaiites, are a resilient and proud group of people. Afraid as we are, we’ll suddenly become powerful Papa Bears and Mama Bears when we see someone struggling. So what if our own house is neck deep in water? There are worse off areas, and we’ll go there to help them in any way we can. That’s the spirit which i saw in 2015, and it lives on.

Right now, there’s lights out. The rains are curious this time. Sure, it’s windy and pouring like cats and dogs. But, there’s no thunder or lightning. I find solace in lightning. It gives me a sense of movement. In a world with no watches, i can imagine time moving slowly by counting the rumbling and light streaks. But, time seems to be at a standstill in rains like these. It feels dense clouds have covered the entire horizon in and around Chennai, and they have no intention of abating. For the sake of remembrance, I’ll caption this post with an earlier video i took (pardon the video quality, my #Graywind #redminote4 is 4 years old and doesn’t see in dark well) of a lightning shoot out and dance from the empty void that was the night. That way, probably my memory will fail me in future and I’ll remember this time as a rough time with lightning. I’ll look back and remark, ‘thank goodness there was lightning; nothing worse than relentless, expressionless skyfall’

The temperatures have dropped significantly. I’m shivering, even in a room with no windows. As i type, boats have been deployed in popular parts of the city.

Maybe, it’ll turn out fine. Maybe, it’ll last for another day and that will be the end of it. But the thing is that after 2015, every monsoon in Chennai feels worse. Maybe climate change is real. Who knows? Maybe Earth is round and not flat?

Cigar et al.

Posted on by
Reply

I remember seeing a cigar for the first time in movies. I think it was one of those gangster flicks. Cigars, cigarettes, and almost anything that is smoked for recreation or habit has been with us since time immemorial. For men and women alike, a smoke is almost an act of catharsis – with every puff of smoke exhaled, the stress and rage is perceived to be exhaled too.

If you’ve known me till the time I was employed with Goldman Sachs; then you know me as much as you know my past-life. After I came back to Chennai, I saw lifestyle habits in a different light. Ever since I formed coherent sentences, I saw lifestyle habits (smoking, drinking, etc.) as unnecessary. I wondered, ‘what are they escaping from?’, ‘why waste so much money on a habit that is killing you from the inside?’, ‘how do you even get addicted when you know that this stuff is addicting in nature?’

Of course, at that time, the only thing worrying me was the grades and an occasional banter from my teacher when I talked during class. Those times were simpler. Of course, now I know why people indulge in lifestyle habits. For them, it’s a sweet release (albeit temporary). And, despite them knowing the dangers involved, they can’t help but go back and knock on the fabled doors made of tobacco leaves and fermented food items.

Fear of missing out and indirect peer pressure contributed to my acquaintance with cigarettes and alcohol. All my life I wanted to fit in; and here was a simple way to do so. Now, I’m as normal as any other human. Had I not had writing and reading as a way to vent out and acquiesce myself, I’d have become addicted. So, I partook on fermented products the same way a child inspects Broccoli – tasting a bit, feeling the juices, experiencing the after-taste and vowing never to eat it again only to try again after a year or so (in hopes that Broccoli has learnt to taste better).

I’ve always wanted to hold a cigar in my fingertips. It has a place of its own. A cigar is symbolic. A cigar is costly, and it takes time to be made. It’s not your regular joint that you can make at home, or a cigarette that you can buy from a store. Hence, a cigar in your fingertips gives a subliminal message about control, power, will, and wealth. Handled well, a cigar can make you smell the forests from where the leaves were sourced.

I’m forever grateful to the one who gave me a stick of cigar. It was made by Henri Wintermans, and was marketed as ‘Corona De Luxe’. To think of it, in these Covid-19 times, I smoked a stick of Corona De Luxe – an irony indeed.

Anyhow, I found a comfortable place to sit back, relax and light the stick. The sky was dark, and the wind was flirting with my hair. I inhaled the smoke emanating from the stick, and let it swirl in my mouth. I could smell and taste the dry leaves. I exhaled the smoke as I emptied my lungs. The feeling was ephemeral, and strangely ubiquitous. At that moment, all I could sense around me was the stick and the smoke and the taste of the smoke.

They’re right, you know. A cigar in your fingertips is indeed symbolic. With each puff inhaled, I could see the stick coming to life and withering away – little by little. In a way, I was seeing a personification of life between my fingertips. This makes me death incarnate. As time passed, I saw the ashes clinging to the stick. It seemed like they are trying to replace the stick by offering themselves. I sensed inertia when I saw the porous ashes, as if the ashes aren’t aware that they aren’t leave crumbs anymore. Here I am, sitting on a ledge on my rooftop. I wonder what someone would see from a distance – possibly a silhouette of a figure, with embers shining hazily.

Indeed, smoking a stick is everything and nothing at once. If your family doesn’t like smoking and intoxication, then smoking becomes an act of rebellion. If you’re stressed and imagine the stick to be the source of all your woes, then you can smoke your woes away. If you’re yearning for someone or something and perceive the stick as a passageway, then you can inhale the smoke and feel nearer the source of your longing. How different is smoking from consuming tea or coffee? The manner of intake is different, the purpose remains the same.

As if on cue, the ashes that clung to the stick for so long fell on my lap. I was startled for a moment, but then sat back at ease. I picked the ashen stick, slowly crumbled it and watched the wind whisk it away. In the end, I inhaled the stick and let the smoke linger in my mouth a bit longer. I exhaled the smoke, and flicked the stick away. I emptied my lungs and inhaled the air around me slowly and surely. I let the air rejuvenate me, and jerk me back to reality. Feeling satisfied, I went for a long walk.