Who's R.N.Ta-Go-Re?

I hail from Jawahar Navodaya Vidyalaya Dharwad. A residential school in every district of the country. Established to identify rural talents and nurture them with good education. Among the other routines, morning assembly was one that held utmost importance. The irregularities in the assembly were seriously confronted by the principal. Be it on the stage or off the stage. In the morning assembly we were expected to present ourselves in rotation - supposedly meant to overcome stage fear and imbibe etiquette of formal proceedings. Quiz was one of proceeding among others. The convention was, the person on the stage asked some 6 to 8 questions and whoever among the audience knew the answers, could answer to the question.

It was not an unusual day, but not for our guy Jnaneshwar. Compared to the things he did his name looked more like an oxymoron. He was popularly branded as 'Madda' after few of his idiotic acts. That day the proceedings were supposed to be on Kannada. And when it comes to Kannada, Madda had an unusual accent given his Marathi background. Seems the guy who had quiz that day had some issues at the last minute and requested Madda to present on his behalf. Madda was ready on stage with book which already had questions picked by the other guy. Of course Madda was not good with even basic general knowledge. If he was any good, the incident which lead to this narration would have been not recorded in this space- time continuum.

So, our guy stands there on the stage. Confident, with a commanding, unusual Kannada accent. Everything went smoothly until he asked this question- "Who's the first Asian to be awarded Nobel for literature?" You know the answer. Easy right? But wait. Following the question, many from the crowd answered "Rabindranath Tagore". To that, Madda plainly replied, "Your answer is wrong. The correct answer is R. N. Ta-Go-Re." Pronouncing "Tagore" unusually, he said it so confidently that many who realized what had happened were baffled. Seems the answer was written in English in the book. He pronounced the last syllable '-re' as it's pronounced in 'Red'. After he said "R. N. Ta-Go-Re", the principal was infuriated enough that, he grabbed him by collar and slapped him hard. Yeah! The principal used to do that and sure, he was not the only victim on that stage.

It is one the funniest memory from school that is cherished by everyone. Even now, he is teased with the same incident. It's been almost 7 to 8 years after the incident and now  "The Jnaneshwar Kammar" is serving in Indian Navy.

The Angry Professor

We had this very strict, sincere and ill-tempered professor. If anyone was late for his class, he freaked out and sent them back. He had a conservative attitude. Though he was a good teacher, he had poor command over English language.

However strict a teacher may be, always there will be some guys who- despite any type of consequences that follow- don't give a damn about anyone. While this professor was busy teaching that day, a friend of mine in the back row was talking to other guy. The professor caught him. He was enraged and suddenly lost his temper. With all his rage, he yelled, "stand up." Our guy stood up looking at the professor.

My friend stood stiff, anxious and embarrassed. The professor was staring at him. There was a awkward silence and as a vacuum was developing in the classroom, the professor was searching for words. While his angry face was turning anxious, he suddenly said "Follow me." No one understood what's going on. Our poor guy followed him like a sheep to be butchered. The professor went out of the classroom and stood there until our guy went out and stood beside him. Then the professor yelled, "stand here." Then the professor came back to the class and closed the door.

Guess what?
The professor was so angry that, he forgot the English words "Get out". The anxiety that followed left him blank completely and he couldn't make anything other than "follow me."

It took some time for us to figure out what exactly happened there. But this was the most convincing explanation as his command over English was not that good.

Delivery or Delivery?

This happened after my fifth semester. I was at home after completing my state tour. While I was in college, I had placed an order for a hard disk as my friend wanted to buy one. The delivery was supposed to be in my name and the delivery guy called me when I was at home. After I talked to him, I called my friend to to tell him the same.

I was talking to him on the phone standing in the backyard of my home. My grandma was nearby washing some clothes. My tone is bit high and I talk like I'm yelling at somebody.  I told him - Le delivery bandeti. Avang call madi harddisk tagond ba - the delivery has come, go and collect it. I saw my grandma becoming alert as I said that on the phone. She stood up and rushed towards my father. With a concerned tone she was telling my father - Yappa, ninna maga ghata madida. Mani kimmat kalada. Iga yardo delivery ga hontan nod- your son has committed a blunder. He has ruined the family name. He's going to someone's delivery.

My father and mother came out laughing at me. I too was laughing out loud. My grandma was perplexed at our gesture. We altogether explained her what was the context and what 'delivery' meant in different context.

When Crush Kicked a Surprise...

My home is some 50 km away from Dharwad. Which is where I've been studying for exams. On some random occasion, I'd been to my home and was returning. While I was traveling to my room in a city bus, I was sunk in the music that was being played at best possible volumes via my new earphones. The only time I'd removed my earphones was while the conductor gave me ticket.

As the bus approached my destined terminal, I was ready with my bags to readily get out of the bus. When it stopped, a really good looking lady entered the bus. She wore decent chudi and looked pleasant. After I crossed her, wearing wtf smile I started pacing towards my room.

I was hardly 10 meters away from the bus when someone patted my shoulder. Guess what? It was the same lady that had left a momentary impression on me. Before she gave me a real shock, a lot of reckoning went through my mind within that second - " Do I know her. Is she from school? Did I drop something? I'll have a cute story to tell after all. But why's she serious?"

As I removed my earphones, I could hear now. She was scolding me. Before I could pick my confused senses, she asked me to show my ticket. I didn't get her in the first instance. With a serious grudge she said  "Show the god damn ticket. I'm a ticket checker." After I showed her the ticket, she looked at it, stared at me disgustingly and went away.

I wish, I'd told her, "You look beautiful when you are angry." I mean, how rare it is to encounter a ticket checker without a thick skin?  Of course she too, seemed to be of thick skin, though behaviourally.

Sing Me To Sleep

And you ignore me.
These unfulfilled fantasies,
Strangle me mentally
And like a catastrophe,
Cascade down deep.

Where are you?
Come, emancipate me.
Decipher this silence and
Sing me to sleep.

The Ordinary Man

Who am I?
The good me? The bad me?
I'm both. I'm either.
Also, I'm neither of the two.

A victim of time,
Picking up myself,
Crawling, aging,
But still, standing,
To make a living.

Drowning, crumbling'
In this sweep.
Yet, in a momentary lapse,
Cheating the mighty time,
To nail some moments.

I'm me, wondering who's me?
Through the sweep of time;
Fighting, flying and sighing,
I'm a warrior, a survivor.
I'm, the usual, ordinary man.

Heart. You bitch.

With broken promises
you were tied.
Even when you already knew the truth,
With convinced lies
you got twisted.
You were battered, betrayed
and laughed at.

Away from vulnerability,
Though I locked you up.
Yet, when you got that sign.
Heard that silly song.
Breaking all the tethers,
You were afloat. Again.

- Unsung Seagull