18th nov 09
So here's an experience worth sharing.
Right now, I'm in my kitchen boiling some milk for use tomorrow, n I can hear a loud racket outside on the street. There are a no. of men on motorcycles, n on foot, walking with a vehicle which is here called a tempo, or a mini truck. There are two men along with this troupe of people who are playin the dholak. The truck is stacked to the brim with more ppl. And on the truck is a loud speaker, requesting ppl to vote for Mr. Ramgopal Nagar. Welcome to the scene of election campaining.
About a few minutes back, I had heard, along with the dholak (a kind of drum.)and the loudspeaker (both of which had not managed to incite my curiosity enough to actually go and check out whats happening, cuz the dholak players and the loudspeakers had been moving around the locality for a few days now) unfamiliar voices emanating from down stairs. Out of curiosity, I exited the kitchen and went to peer down from the terrace, at the commotion below.
As the gate entrance came into view, I saw a man laden with garlands, obviously Mr. Ramu (lets call him that shall we? suits his personality very well!) exit our PG(paying guest accommodation) building.
The way he walked was rather intriguing. It contained self importance, lacked humility, or really any kind of respect for the people he was promising to serve. The message was clear. "You, must entertain me." His men rang the bell next door 3-4 times, quickly in succession(Ramu mustn like to wait i guess. Ironic, considerin he's ramu) where an old couple lives. But Mr. Ramu didn't go to that house. After all, it was just a single storey house. He went to the other three storey house(ours is three storey too) one block, across the street. Entered the main gate, with his men all about. The owner came out on his balcony, and did a namaste to the man with the garlands.( I must point out at this moment, that Mr. Ramu's namastes were rather extraordinary. He would join his hands, protrude his chest and stand in the namaste pose for a few seconds, seemingly waiting for God to tear the sky, and point to him, and ask people to give this man their votes. When that didn't happen, he would inflate his chest further - I think to take the position of the space where his hands had been joined previously. He was obviously pretty hell bend on occupying the exact same volume at all times - and walk off, followed by the said troupe.) The hairy eared man (hereby referred to as Ramu) then requested the house owner to come join the troupe ( except, not really. Request is somethin that can only be done with humility in your body language , and a humble body language mostly doesn't consist of all those antics - except maybe from a chicken, but in their defence, their bodies were made with rather obvious chicken breasts. Plus, a request allows you a chance to choose.) Our landlord had already joined the troupe(followin the said humble request) and they moved off. Their apathy for your peace, property/home, and your right of choice very obvious.
Rather interesting really.( I'm pretty sure, that the hair in his ears must have been shielding him from the horror of the racket that he was so proudly inflicting on us. Cuz there's no other logical reason, why he himself would be able to walk around in that noise...or why the hair in his ears is so long.)
PS- I'm shitty sad n boredish. This place is screwing me. and in case you're wondering bout the title, it was just more fun (and appropriate) than election campaign.
So here's an experience worth sharing.
Right now, I'm in my kitchen boiling some milk for use tomorrow, n I can hear a loud racket outside on the street. There are a no. of men on motorcycles, n on foot, walking with a vehicle which is here called a tempo, or a mini truck. There are two men along with this troupe of people who are playin the dholak. The truck is stacked to the brim with more ppl. And on the truck is a loud speaker, requesting ppl to vote for Mr. Ramgopal Nagar. Welcome to the scene of election campaining.
About a few minutes back, I had heard, along with the dholak (a kind of drum.)and the loudspeaker (both of which had not managed to incite my curiosity enough to actually go and check out whats happening, cuz the dholak players and the loudspeakers had been moving around the locality for a few days now) unfamiliar voices emanating from down stairs. Out of curiosity, I exited the kitchen and went to peer down from the terrace, at the commotion below.
As the gate entrance came into view, I saw a man laden with garlands, obviously Mr. Ramu (lets call him that shall we? suits his personality very well!) exit our PG(paying guest accommodation) building.
The way he walked was rather intriguing. It contained self importance, lacked humility, or really any kind of respect for the people he was promising to serve. The message was clear. "You, must entertain me." His men rang the bell next door 3-4 times, quickly in succession(Ramu mustn like to wait i guess. Ironic, considerin he's ramu) where an old couple lives. But Mr. Ramu didn't go to that house. After all, it was just a single storey house. He went to the other three storey house(ours is three storey too) one block, across the street. Entered the main gate, with his men all about. The owner came out on his balcony, and did a namaste to the man with the garlands.( I must point out at this moment, that Mr. Ramu's namastes were rather extraordinary. He would join his hands, protrude his chest and stand in the namaste pose for a few seconds, seemingly waiting for God to tear the sky, and point to him, and ask people to give this man their votes. When that didn't happen, he would inflate his chest further - I think to take the position of the space where his hands had been joined previously. He was obviously pretty hell bend on occupying the exact same volume at all times - and walk off, followed by the said troupe.) The hairy eared man (hereby referred to as Ramu) then requested the house owner to come join the troupe ( except, not really. Request is somethin that can only be done with humility in your body language , and a humble body language mostly doesn't consist of all those antics - except maybe from a chicken, but in their defence, their bodies were made with rather obvious chicken breasts. Plus, a request allows you a chance to choose.) Our landlord had already joined the troupe(followin the said humble request) and they moved off. Their apathy for your peace, property/home, and your right of choice very obvious.
Rather interesting really.( I'm pretty sure, that the hair in his ears must have been shielding him from the horror of the racket that he was so proudly inflicting on us. Cuz there's no other logical reason, why he himself would be able to walk around in that noise...or why the hair in his ears is so long.)
PS- I'm shitty sad n boredish. This place is screwing me. and in case you're wondering bout the title, it was just more fun (and appropriate) than election campaign.
Comments
Oooh, title and all huh? :D Come jaldi!
How is the whole application shit going? :S
How's your stuff?
@sam: Oh and I know we could totally have this conversation on Facebook, but this is like more fun :P
@Sahil: My stuff's like going fine. Though I'm frustrated! :\
Sam, your status is sooo apt! Even, I really wanna fast forward my life!