A richer solace...

This piece is a penning of some of my thoughts and perceptions on God, Religion, Spirituality, and such. It is quite possible I see a fractional picture from my chosen promontory, but I put it in words- such as it appears to my mind. While I do this I wish to state, nay insist, that I have no intention of judging or belittling anyone's faith.

I have never really thought a whole lot about the God question. For the greater portion of my life thus far, He has pretty much let me be and I have done the same. You might ask me - Are you agnostic then? Or plain atheist? If I say- I believe in God but not in religion- what does that make me? Call me that.

Living in India and enjoying the culture, it is fairly impossible to stay disconnected from religion - especially during festivals. Festivals in India bring out the maximum expression of colour, sound, and of course- faith! We dress up in our finery, cook the choicest sweetmeats, and directly head to God's doorstep to thank Him for the bounty - or at least that's the purpose I've always perceived. This year, the spirit of the season took quite a grip on me and I felt a strong urge to visit the most popular Ganesh Temple in the city! In my college days, I remember I'd be there on Padwa Pahaat - dawn of the New Year. I must confess, what brought me to the temple that day was equal parts nostalgia and curiosity. Curiosity- because I don't know what one calls that feeling of 'exploration' one has... an attempt to understand what it is that drives so many but eludes me!

With a scrubbed face and shining spirit, I reached the temple. Temple- God's abode- full of riches and pleasures; what I met with though- was poverty. It begins at the first step and continues right to the altar- that slow whine, that suffocating stench of poverty. I speak not of financial dearth (though I am sure it plays a role). I refer to the poverty of spirit - so much more disheartening. Call me an idealist (we're looking for adjectives anyway!) - But I firmly believe that God is where I find peace and satisfaction. What I saw all around me was 'want'. People queuing up to bribe the Lord. Promises and Threats. I had hoped to see joyful faces - I saw instead, hasty greetings, perfunctory courtesies and a task struck off the day's checklist. I saw beggars turning peoples' fears and insecurities into capital. I saw all that was weak and depraved in human nature. Everything that shouldn't belong in a place of worship. There was pain and there was dissatisfaction. The God here seemed distant, faraway... disappointed.

I do understand that many people have real and great sorrows in life and they will turn to God for solace. What I complain of though is the 'business' of God. The 'let's be done with this' sentiment. Visitors of the almighty were in such a rush to say hello and get back to their festivities that they had not a moment to sit or to say a simple sorry to the fellow they had had just nudged past. Does praying once a day, excuse us from common courtesy to a fellow human being?  The vendors refused to return a greeting, unless you were bringing business! Even the donation box seemed to look accusing if one failed to give it its due coinage.

I sat a distance away from the hustle-bustle of the crowd in a somewhat pensive mood. And my mind drifted back to an afternoon a long, long time ago- somewhere in Konkan. We were traveling with family friends and stumbled upon an old Shiva temple. A beautiful stone structure with no one but a solitary Brahmin to keep the God company. We washed our feet and settled down on the temple steps absorbing the peace and quiet. And then arose a tune- my uncle, a classical singer. He took in my surprise, and said- "It is a temple. This is Saadhana (worship)." For I don't know how long after that, he sang Raaga after Raaga... friends and family offered their share of talent... and the afternoon was a symphony of love, gratitude and camaraderie! This was our offering to the Lord- a fraction of all that He'd blessed us with. This was Peace. This was Joy. This was the presence of God.

For me, He resides in Art. Others perhaps see His presence through formal prayer. Whatever the form one's Faith takes, I wish it'd be wholehearted and sincere. Whatever form your God takes, I do believe He shouldn't be the in the shape of a Need, a Fear, a Routine. May He be all that is the richest and finest in us. It is with this prayer that I left the temple that day.

The Window

Standing patiently outside my window- he waits.
His silvery caresses enter my room,
But he watches from afar-
Ever patient; ever pleasant;
Expecting nothing.

And I wait impatiently;
Trapped within my window.
Someday he will demand I bring him in…
Someday he will grow impatient like me…

I wait that someday he may want more than this fraction;
I wait that someday he may wish to see me whole.
But he makes no demands.
Tomorrow, he will come again.
Unfailingly.
And he will stand outside.
Unattachedly.

I know that the day he enters- he will fill up my existence-
Suffocate me even.
But I invite the encroachment.
For then, he will be mine.
The weight of expectations is much easier to balance
Than the suspended state of artificial equilibrium.

It's fairly simple, Freud!

What women want is a mystery it seems. Freud started this sham. How convenient!

Who, irrespective of gender, does know their mind? And again, irrespective of gender, who really wants anything outside of the usual- love, respect, and good humour!

Recently, I witnessed / heard some stories of men who may or may not have read Freud. But who have definitely gotten it right as far as knowing ‘what their woman wants’ goes! (While I see these stories from a woman’s perspective, they can just as well be read as beautiful examples of companionship! :)) 

Couple of months back, we went to see the famed Flamingos of Bhigwan. Rather atypical of a tourist spot, upon setting foot in Bhigwan, one is not thronged by dozens of touts, each pushing his boats merits in your face. It is quiet and one or 2 fishermen will calmly approach you and ask if you wish to hire a boat. The negotiations are friendly and usually end on an agreeable note. In our case, we were approached by a fisherwoman. As is expected for a woman of her limited means, she was lean; but her eyes shone with keen intelligence. The usual negotiations regarding price and distance took place and a mutually agreeable arrangement was reached.

Since it was somewhat late in the day, we had to go quite a way out. On the way, we met a returning boat full of people, and our boatwoman introduced the boatman of the other boat as her husband. Then she went on to tell us how she usually did not take up boat-rides by herself, but had him by her side. With her stories and ours, we continued to float in pursuit of the elusive Flamingos. The pleasantly warm morning started to turn into a scorching afternoon, and as the sun rose we started to feel increasingly concerned about our boat-lady who was beginning to look rather weak. We turned around and started making for the shore, expressing the concern we felt; unfortunately, there wasn’t much we could do to help. Turned out there was someone who could though... and he did too! Just a little distance on our return route, sat the lady’s husband- waiting for us! Once we got closer, he swiftly jumped aboard and took over the oars from her. His care for his wife had brought him all that way out walking- after depositing his customers back to the shore! The relief that flooded the woman’s face on seeing him was more beautiful than any poem or love ballad ever written!

That’s something a woman wants- someone who understands the unspoken.

A little while after this incident occurred, I was narrating the story to my aunt; and she had her own little story displaying how without ‘higher’ education or culture-conditioning some people just instinctively get it right! They are sensitive enough to see, and brave enough to give, exactly what the other person wants.

This aunt of mine is a doctor by profession, and at present is a full-time counselor at a rural hospital in Alandi. She has consciously chosen this profile to fulfill what she sees as her commitment to society and her profession. She began to tell me about a couple who walked in for a pregnancy check-up. The woman naturally gave her case history, at which time, the first thing she mentioned was- she was HIV +ve (she did not have AIDS; she was HIV +ve). Naturally, the obvious sequence of questions followed- Did you know before the pregnancy? Was your husband aware of this? And, turns out- he was! She was HIV +ve due to breastfeeding from her HIV +ve mother. This man- her husband- was not HIV +ve; he was healthy in every way. He knew her history, her medical condition, and still wanted to be her life-partner! And now, they were having a baby- and both of them were doing all they could to keep it from inheriting this terrible legacy.

That’s something a woman wants- someone who stands by her.

The narrative left me speechless. My aunt is quite a creature. She told this story to me, and within minutes, she herself became a story in this same stream. As we rose from our tea and chat session, she happened to mention how she was looking up references and cases of HIV +ve couples so she could help this duo and then added- your uncle and I will be discussing it tonight. My uncle- her husband- is a doctor himself; yet, I found this rapport a bit surprising and said so as well- ‘You have conversations like that? Where you actually sit down and discuss?’… I could hear in her words and voice of her answer that yes- they not only spoke, but they shared the same language! How many couples, in this day and age, set aside an evening to have a quiet meaningful discussion- that doesn’t pertain to kids, money, family! It wasn’t surprising, of course, that they talk or discuss things… but they were actually taking out time to exchange ideas, share perspectives over something that was not strictly ‘personal’, but which she cared about – and hence, he cared about!

That’s something a woman wants- someone who listens.

Momentary Truth

He was like the rolling sea-
Ever changing form,
Ever in turmoil,
Finding his stability in motion.

The sea that touches the shore for one brief moment,
And rolls away-
Does he reveal his true nature in the surge…
Or the ebb?

His being here was real,
And so was that which drew him away,
His feelings- as true as they were transient...



-R

Dance!

I’m dancing again!

There comes a point when routine becomes second nature, and socializing is just a series of motions one is going through. Much of the present is pre-planned and most of the future is predictable. Everything new soon becomes familiar; the much-sought-after stability is finally here… and then there’s something missing again!

Long back, my friend- ‘A’ shared this wisdom (attributed to Elvis Presley) with me- “To be happy you need 3 things- Something to do, Someone to love, and Something to look forward to”! Every time I am bothered by the vague anxiety brought on by monotony, this line usually helps point the missing gap- this time… this time round, it told me why I am suddenly a happier person J

After a longish while of droning along, I have found something that I ‘can’t hardly wait’ to do every.single.day.! I am dancing again!!

It is true we do not realize the value of what we have, until we lose it… even temporarily. Dancing my way from childhood to my teens, I didn’t realize at what point the college canteen replaced my dance lessons. Didn’t realize, when the laptop slowly pushed out the Nattuangam.

Never saw it happening… when did I hang up my dancing shoes? Or, in my case, my Ghungroos :P

But as I begin to pick up my feet, it’s like the years fall away, and the rhythm courses through like a familiar pulse! I find my thoughts pausing, trying to recollect the way the choreography flows; only to realize that my feet aren’t! And while the feet follow the pulsing rhythm, the mind goes back to the many girls whose feet once synced with mine. I remember the girl who would come all the way from Lonavla to Pune for the weekend classes. And another who cycled all over town, so she could save her transport money for the fees. Jatiswaram- Raga Kalyani, still brings to mind the tall, gangly image of a girl by the same name! Every time the stamina threatens to give away- the stern voice of my teacher still rings clear as if it were yesterday! The ballets, the costumes, back-to-back practice schedules, crazy days… a stage full of memories…

Today, when I dance, it is not only the joy of a passion rekindled… but also, of the many, many reminiscences! It is like a facet of ‘being’ rediscovered… like finding a secret window in the walled sameness of everyday… it’s like being reminded of what Someone Once Told Me - There's always a reason to dance!

White Summer

Watching all the 'bring-on-the-merriment' Hollywood movies around Christmas, I always wondered what the big deal was about a ‘White Christmas’! Even the actors spreading the spirit looked runny-nosed and red-cheeked from the blistering cold! Why then did these people not just look forward to, but hope for, this extreme weather!? Back then, I figured it was one of those things you had to be there to enjoy. And then, luckily I did get the opportunity to be in NY for a Christmas, and it did turn out to be a White Christmas! It looked beautiful! A giant sheet of clean white sequined with red and green, the lights giving it all just the right sparkle… it was a sight alright! But somehow, I could sense, for the locals it was not just the beautiful backdrop that held the allure of a ‘White Christmas’…

I returned to the homeland and the mystery remained unsolved and forgotten in a corner of the mind. What also returned with me was a yearning, a longing to enjoy some more of what I was leaving.

And then- came Summer; and with summer, came so much more- a mixed bag of discomfort and happy memories. The Indian sun is harsh and bright; it bears down in an unrelenting white beam and the landscape becomes a haze of heat! But for those of us who’ve bobbed on these heat waves all our lives- it also brings the softness of balmy evenings, the coolness of a shady glen in one corner of the courtyard- where all the neighbourhood children would gather for the game of the season (it varied you see- some years it was carom, and for some it was cards :P)! Afternoons full of a gaggle of aunts drying out the year’s supplies, and uncles messing with the ice-cream pot. Afternoons full of banter and bickering, Kulfi and Khus, and lazy long hours that are the gift of summer. Summer- made fragrant by the mangoes and the jasmine, coloured in the vibrant shades of a sunset in May!

It’s funny how some bonds are based on discomfort! What the pleasant winter months couldn’t do, the harsh beauty of summer had done- awoken the spark of identity. Yes, it is oppressive and at least once each day we ask- “when’s this getting over?!” and yet- it belongs. It is the unique weather of our land that cannot be replicated anywhere- same as our unique ways of dealing with it, and the many, unreplicable memories born of it!

The heat, the sweat, the dust… the incessantly cooing cuckoo, the Gulmohur, the pickles! They all go hand in hand; they’re all part of the same picture. And that picture is mine. Its hot strokes are mine, as are its cool light breezes; and the plethora of images it weaves are mine. This is the picture of the ‘White Summer’- and it is special because it is mine.

On pills and people…

The more I observe people (which I do quite a bit ;-) ), the more I feel

It is their little whims that tell us a great deal…

Plato says- You can discover more about a person in an hour of play than in a year of conversation.

In my opinion- it applies to pretty much everything- spoken or done!

So, speaking of such hints big and small,

I happened to think- wasn’t pill-popping another tell-all!

Now before you go getting any naughty thoughts,

I do not speak of the type of pill, but the way it pops!

How do you take your pills- quick ‘n easy- just gulp it down?

Or do you take ages, and do it with a frown? :P

A friend I have agonizes over medication for ages,

She pretends to forget, and leaves it on ledges...

Until good Samaritans ‘find’ it for her

And force it down the patient’s throat, before it could be ‘lost’ in another corner!

She is, in life too, a born runner;

Her motto- why kill it if you can shove it under!

There’s another I know, who will not avoid,

But will crush and sweeten

And thus he will swallow the ‘bitter pill’…

Be it the strife of life, or a feverish chill!

Then of course, there’s the sudden gulp-down-the- gullet!

Trying to fool his own self before he can object!!

This is the man who will jump into a pool, not ‘toe-dip’

And address his problems head-on, without a blip.

My own preference though is slow and steady,

One at a time… what is the big hurry!

I’d line up my issues too, to be dealt with one by one

And I insist that’s ‘systematic’, not procrastination!

So… these are the ones I have known in my time;

If you know another, do tell me- and we can make it rhyme!

An unlikely path towards Nirvana...

For some time now, I have been trying to ‘arrange’ my marriage. I’m not sure how this is done elsewhere in the world, but in India, we have ‘marriage bureaus’... what the West euphemistically calls ‘Dating Services’ or ‘Singles Clubs’...

Like all young persons forced down this way, I spent quite some time agonizing over ‘being reduced to this’… and seriously thought of venting my frustration using the written word… had even considered some titles: ‘Close Encounters of the Arranged Kind’, ‘Single at <<insert appropriate age>>’, ‘Being unmarried in India’ –for a measure of Desi-ness… can’t you see one of these titles next to the latest Chetan Bhagat! :P

But then came my first spiritual breakthrough! Positivity, closely followed by Perspective. After all, the ‘arranged’ way is just another way of meeting someone, right? So statistically, you’re only increasing your chances of meeting someone. Of course, no denying the fact that there will be ‘suitable matches’ that are so far removed from your ideas of all that you imagined that you will want to despair! But only remember that jerk you went out with in college who used you as a dinner ticket; in case of guys, the chick who habitually drank your money, but danced with another; and you will be reminded, that it is not the system, but the incident that sucks!

Moving along the path of spiritual growth, it is of vital importance to shed pride… and trust me, nothing is as humbling as the feedback in the arranged marriage system! Giving complete strangers a right to judge you is one rude eye-opener! Pretty much a case of ‘Arranged Marriage- the great Leveler’ (Sorry James Shirley)! (Of course, it is important to remember that the judgment is without context; so no reason it should hit your self-esteem!) You may be smart, but you are not pretty; you may be pretty, but you’re not tall; you may be tall, but that may be too tall!! So, rather early in the process one realizes that whatever it is you pride yourself on, it may not be enough, and it is definitely not all!

As a corollary to the above, one also gets some valuable lessons in Tolerance- for judgment, for opinions… you see, in the great Indian Arranged Marriage- everyone has a say (and they will say it :P)! But you must be the larger person, and learn to pardon the pitiful ignorance that makes them blind to your many qualities; ‘Forgive them Lord, for they know not what they reject’! :P

Having learned humility and tolerance, the next lesson the arranged marriage aspirant learns is- ‘to see something to admire in all’; we never really realize how we scorn differences, do we? The well-read intellectual looks down on the pretty girl who knows her cosmetics… the city girl will look askance at the ‘newbie’ who can’t drive… we all have our criteria for judgment! Most of us function by set parameters- guy is a loser if he doesn’t earn this much, girl’s a dud if she can’t throw lavish house parties … but through the experiences in and around my sphere, I’ve realized how narrow this view is. That guy earning half your salary is probably in a relaxed job so he can devote his spare hours to making great music (true story!)… and the girl who is a bad hostess may be an intellectual author in the making! It’s rather interesting to see the story of a person and understand the life choices that shaped it. So basically, ‘Baalak, har insaan mein badapan hai… use dhoondo’!! :P

And then of course, there’s Patience. You will go into the ‘Market’ with the confidence of a distinction student applying for an MNC job… only to realize, it really isn’t that simple. There’ll be girls you fall in love with but who may not return your affection, guys who will appall you and refuse to quit calling, and ‘prospects’ so very different from what you imagined, that you will almost give up on the whole deal! But the point is- you won’t. :) When the next ‘match’ comes along, you will hope, and you will aspire, and you will give it your best shot… and if you can keep your temper and your smile through this- trust me, you’ve come a long way!

And while you are being patient, you will also learn that this does not in any way make a case for the much-advertised ‘Compromise’! What is ‘on your list’ is important to you, and under no circumstances should you let yourself be bullied. Let me tell you, this needs resilience equal to a Yogi! There will be well-intentioned aunties, well-married cousins, and Mommy going ‘Tick-tick-tick’ with her Body Clock imitation! But do not let these deter you, and bear on with your Chase! :)

So while my tryst with the ‘Arranged Marriage’ continues… I am yet to discover if I have ‘Wife-Skills’, but I’d like to think I’ve made rather good progress on ‘Life Skills’!

The chronicles of Paraphernalia: the Girl, the Software, and the Wardrobe

Disclaimer: Complete and utter drivel. Do not read on if you have important things to do. Definitely read on if you enjoy bizarre ideas and amusing nonsense! :)

Wardrobes need cleaning. And as I tidied mine the other day, I found myself seriously considering labeled categories. Does that mean I own too much clothing? …Nahhhh!! I just have an incredibly ordered mind that reels at the thought of formal shirts getting mixed with round-neck Ts!

Imagine a row of hangers- colour coded, with suggestions of accessories; Heck, we could cross-reference! We could categorize by ethnicity / culture, occasion, season, purpose… even by names of people we could wear that garment around! :P

Plus, it would be great to keep track of what’s new, what’s old, what no longer fits (must face the unfortunate realities).

The advantages of labeled categories are many:

1. The most obvious- I could find what I want when I want it!
2. It’ll help me remember stuff I own. Maybe there’ll be fewer occasions where I go- “I have that?!”
3. Will avoid embarrassing situations where I offer to lend clothes that I’ve already done away with.

A definite must-have would be In-Out baskets for laundry… and a system of putting ‘last-worn’ dates on the specific garment tags.

So I ran this idea past my office buddies, and I already have a couple of bids to create a software product to handle this burning requirement (yeh… I work in IT)! We propose to have a simple, graphic interface that lets users tag hangers and place them in categories. Some commonly used categories will be part of the ‘out-of-box’ software, and users can add some of their own. We intend to leave scope for customization.  Users will tag each hanger with the categories it would belong to. This would naturally enable logical grouping of accessories to be worn together. The most awesome feature would be this- the wardrobe will track the last-worn date from the time the hanger was last removed! Wow, I can see this is going to be one great product! What ideas may come, huh?

Spunk

Last night as I was driving back from work, I was waiting for the light to go green at a signal. It was one of the rare times when the radio was playing a good tune. As I merrily drummed away to it, I noticed a pair of eyes on me. I turned around to look into the keen eyes of a 12 year old girl intently fixed on my hands on the steering wheel. As she continued to gaze, what I saw was not so much a face, but a dream; for her eyes were not looking at me! They were looking at herself! In another 10-15 years J

She was riding on the floorboard of her dad’s scooter. The parents quite obviously looked like your typical Rajasthani implants struggling to find their feet in a different state. But the little one was something else! There was that in her face that refused to accept the limitation of her birth or her circumstances. Her quiet confidence brought me untold joy as a woman! As the signal changed, and I shifted to first, our eyes met for a brief moment and she gave me the most beautifully honest smile. A smile that spoke of ambition, of pride, of belief; a smile that shouted loudly and clearly- “I Will”! It was such a smile as joined 2 women of completely diverse births, backgrounds, and experiences in a single moment of Truth! In that fleeting encounter I ‘saw’ her and she knew that the woman behind the tinted car windows -worlds apart from her- saw her dreams and rooted for them… for whatever it is worth!

It’s true- sometimes a smile is a glimpse into the soul! This one showed ‘Spunk’; clear as glass, but nowhere as brittle.

The Loss of Naivette

A few days back I found myself sifting some thoughts… and on an impulse put them on paper. I expect this is a part 1 and will go through much improvisation… but felt like sharing it for whatever it is worth in its first cut…

The Loss of Naivette

Life robs you of innocence. The shining faces and glowing hearts with which we set forth into this world soon become tarnished by the harsh, acidic realities of life. We give these realities the name of ‘Experience’; and what we lose in the soft warmth of innocence we gain in the hard, cold armor of self-preservation. This is the obvious; the not-so-obvious is the cyclical nature of this ‘evolution’ …a constant revolution if you may. It almost seems like we let loose a chain reaction every time we open ourselves to a new experience! In corollary, is it in order to reclaim our naïveté that we crave the novel?

The taking up of a new hobby to overcome heartbreak, the buying of an object to get over an intangible loss …a fresh start is almost always an attempt to feel once again the purity of hope, the squeaky cleanness of a fresh slate. A fresh page comes with no guarantees… but in opening it, in opening the doors for new people, we try to find the trust we lost in our old relationships. In finding a new place, we search for proof that our beliefs will be rewarded by a change of circumstances.

Chain Reaction

When I posted the last bit of writing, I was in the middle of a whirlwind of projects. That being my first post, I shared it with quite a few people; to the instant reaction of- ‘Wherever did you find the time?!’ No, I am not going on to the trip about ‘You’ll find time if you really want to do something’ :-). But the question got me thinking, and brought me back to one of my favorite ‘theories’ on Life.

You see, I firmly believe, productivity is like a chain reaction. The more you do, the more you want to do! The fact of the matter is, I was motivated enough to find time to write because my brain was steaming ahead on all eight! How important it is to find work that can engage and interest the mind! It is like a wheel in motion. Keep it running and it will take you to surprising destinations without a squeak of protest; let it idle, and it will be a task to get it going!

If only each one of us realized that productive contribution is not a burden, or a favor upon your organization, but the only way to do justice to what lies within us. (Yeah, McGregor here I come!) I do believe self-actualization is the biggest reward and motivator.

I know many people (if you’re reading this, you’ll know it’s you I’m talking about!), blessed with creativity and intelligence, who are completely wrapped up in the mundane. Gifted people, who can do amazing things, if only they wished to ‘participate’ in the world. Look around you, and you will see the world is run by mediocre, hard-working people, while most better qualified persons watch from the sidelines. Why this reluctance to build upon a natural advantage? What is the satisfaction of basking in self-bestowed glory?

Many are the arguments I have had with such friends of mine. My point is that the need to be ambitious is not for the money, or the Desig. (although that never does any harm ;P) The need to move ahead is the need to perform, the need to achieve! We need to contribute, not in order to win a race or prove a point, but to ‘live’ our Potential. You don’t need the top-job to prove yourself; the top slot needs you to do what it was set up to achieve. Upon each one of us lies the moral responsibility of realizing one’s capability and building upon it. I owe it to the world for granting me the right to ‘exist’! Rounding it up, I would quite honestly say, that for me the answer to what is the purpose of existence, would be- ‘to understand my potential, and live it to the fullest!’ (you might, of course, say ‘42’ is a closer answer! ;D)

A’hunting we will go!

Finally, something did inspire me enough to post a blog! Strangely enough, as an inspiration this really isn’t anything deep and pensive… not at all a heavy meal for the thought system, honestly. Just one of those random incidents that start the ideas chugging along… traveling nowhere in particular and suddenly pulling up at a surprising destination!
          Let me begin at the beginning. This afternoon I met someone at work; a man I did not know, to be precise. Now this man came forth to my desk and struck a conversation. Having begun with this and that, the conversation soon went on to introductions. “Hi, I am Rahul…”, the guy drawled; I politely gave my name. This was followed by the typical awkward pause which characterises all introductions of this nature (you know what I mean!). This piece revolves around what is about to happen. I returned to staring at the screen, but was soon distracted by some activity in the periphery of my vision. I couldn’t help but notice that Rahul was frantically looking for something in all the pockets on his person. He tried the jacket, but the hand returned empty. The shirt pocket was similarly unhelpful. I was about to offer help, when he managed to fish something (presumably what he was looking for) out of his trouser pocket and opened his palm with a flourish- Happydent gum! Whatever it was that I had been expecting, this wasn’t it. I was too shaken to refuse and meekly expressed my gratitude.
          Now this strange ‘introductory offer’ started the mind rolling… the first obvious thought being, “Do I need to brush oftener??” Having ascertained that such was not the case, I explored alternative theories. This was not the first incident of its kind. I thought back and noticed a trend… I have always been offered gum by guys who’ve been ‘wanting to know me better’. And then I suddenly saw it! It was the ‘offering’! You know how the prehistoric man hunted, and dragged the loot to the prehistoric woman he wanted to ‘know better’? This was the same thing! Now dead bears went out of fashion a long, long time ago… So the average working man, handicapped by the lack of flowers or chocolates (which would be the logical first choice) at a workplace, offers the next best thing- Gum! Any woman who has worked in an IT company will tell you that Gum / Mint will definitely be an abundant resource on most male colleagues!
          Ha! So much for evolution! Though not conclusive proof, I feel pretty certain of the primitive instincts that still lurk within the Homo Sapiens Sapiens! Now I wonder what happens after the Gum offering… well, I ate it… I guess I should live up to my woman-ly ‘gathering’ instinct and save the wrapper! :P


:) Disclaimer: Although this incident is real, the names are entirely fictitious.