Indian Ameri

The superior lateral rectus muscles (not the rectum dunce heads, it’s the eye muscles), forced my balls (am talking about the eye you perverts) towards the subjects line of sight. The iris stretched to focus the lens in a way that my retina could get a spot signal. Instant pupil dilation occurred as I saw this “God Worked” beauty in her early 20’s walking towards me. It wasn’t a low skirt or a showy top, but a queen garbed white angelic attire that led me drool tea all over the grass (actually I burnt my tongue and had to spit the tea).

Before even the thought of me getting up from my spot and walking behind her (sometimes the testosterone takes control of my limbs – no offense), she moved towards me and sat gracefully away from me on the lawn (about 4 meters). I didn’t know how long I’ve been mesmerized in her elegance, but one thing was sure – the Tea was slurrrrped to the paper. Then from nowhere, her boyfriend came into the scene (Curiosity filled me instead of jealousy – PS what am I supposed to be jealous about?). From my past experiences of spending time with friends of the other sex, I would conclude that her boy friend was of the “cute” kind from a girls point of view (From my point of view, he looked like any other ordinary guy). Anyways, back to the romance.

A few minutes into their discussion (it was clearly audible, but being a guy who respects privacy I mentally closed my auditory sense and loved the atmosphere), the guy gave a gesture of apologies. With the girl refusing acceptance of an apology, the guy walked towards the nearby tulip grown patch, snapped a red colored tulip off its twig and offered it to her. With mere zero plus experience in such situations, my curiosity for some science led me to open up my auditory senses and I waited for what a woman says in such a lively worldly situation.

“Thank You Fred! But don’t pick flowers that won’t grow again. EVEN for me.”

Yes, I was shocked by this girl’s response (Guess she was a freshman botanist. Even now I have no clue whether tulips grow from a broken stem or not?). The guy just smiled, and gave his apologies one more time, to which she refused acceptance ‘one more time’. Now they walked off after the usual goodbye kiss (Guess the goodbye kiss was for people watchers like me, coz they walked together holding hands).

Now I am not the kind of guy who ‘Sighs!’ about the state of my relationship and spoils the rest of my lovely mood and fun life (my lows are for a few seconds and that’s it). But, as I had ample time before I ran back to my lab to take a sample out, I fantasized about the situation I just now witnessed.

“What would you do Hari? If a beautiful girl like her tells you about not picking up flowers that might not grow?”, I questioned myself

“Wait here!” is what I would say, run to the tulip patch, use my cap to shovel out the sand, carefully separate the root of the stem from the manure enriched mushy sand and uproot the whole stem with the red tulip, go to the nearby coffee shop (where I had the tea), get a to go box, convert it into a temporary to-go pot, fill it partially with sand, wet it with bottled water, and then bring it to her and offer it to her (of course the bottle of water too for my hot girl). And then, I would say with a warm smile right from the heart, “A pretty flower for my pretty lady.” Once she takes it, I would pour some water in my hands, and sprinkle it over the tulip and of course on her beautiful face too.

“Yuck! Phffffbbbt….. Even the taste of that horrible Tazo Tea feels good” was the thought that hit me and I woke from the fantasy and decided to run to my lab and read a paper. Seriously romance and I, don’t go together. I can even give consent over my nomination for Presidency for United States in the Colbert Report, but never can utter romantic words to a girl. Should I be worried? So far, the thought hasn’t hit me (hard enough to make me check my skull again). But when the moment comes, Hmmmm… Sigh….. God save that girl…… ;)

Half way successfully through the turn, the car was sitting at its edge. There, my pupil dilated, fingers ironed out, ankle yielded to push the brakes and above all, hair goosebumped – the coyote/small wolf just stared at my cars lights. Brakes had its purpose of slowing the rate of arrival at the coyote’s grave, but instead of decelerating, the tires swept across the road with a screech into a slide. He evaded the scene before the crimed murder took place and jumped across the fence. I veered the wheel the other way to avoid a slide into the shoulderless grass patch and hit the fence and flip out. One small crevice in the road, and the car fulcrumed into a lever backfire. The CD’s from the sun screen pouch frisbeed onto my forehead, the juice at the back seat just threw itself off towards the front seat, the stumps at the trunk banged the rear glass and worst of all, the momentum made my seat belt get taught. It hurt my injured chest. My eyes tried to cringe, but the adrenaline was already doing its duty to keep my pupil dilated and eyelids stretched out.

A strange feeling hit me. I knew, this is the point of no return, no correction, no way to escape the fear of death. Time stood still, thoughts of an option to find a solution blanked out, and the whole world seemed to run backwards. There weren’t questions, not doubts, not the dreams, neither was the destiny, nor were the achievements, and so not were the permanent memories and not were the incorrigible blunders in life. But a few faces, foreheads folded, worried about something projected into my sight. Either my mind went into a state of shock so deep enough that it provoked a hallucination so realistic, that I felt bad, unhappy and guilty for making these faces get apprehensive. “Not even a safe crash would assure my existence. The nearest emergency hub is at least twenty miles off the snaky sweeping roadway” and I spiraled back to the micro second I was fighting to live my options with.

Instincts are perspective of experience disguised as a blessing of trust. The fingers opened out yet arcing a mesh of airy grip around the wheel, while the foot over the brakes yielded soft. Inertia did its job. The momentum brought me back into the battle field. One more correction was vital and my thoughts were blocked to find the adjustment required at this crucial moment. The strangest thought/memory/face/event/doubt/blunder hologramed into one ‘indescribable feeling!’ The whole body synced into a single weapon and it defined the path to defy death. One microsecond later, the world spun faster, and the cold air hit my face and I realized that I am still alive. A nodding smile came broad into the curve and I reasoned out the feeling. I knew I would never see the answer, but I tried hallucinating one. It proved probably improbable.

My mind started going into the questionable paralysis. I decided, “Now or never” and chased faster than before. Thirty minutes later, after overtaking almost a dozen cars, twice patching up a pack of 4 wolves nearly avoiding a honk from the oncoming traffic, I slowed down. A new question added up to the armory of my troubles. “Who Cares?”

About five years earlier, I walked with a bandaged right shoulder into my class room and told the truth of sliding purposefully from my bike against a blinded Tata Sumo, just to save an unattended child from getting killed by the Sumo. Everybody laughed, assuming a fake story. Now, whenever I see the scar, I laugh to myself – that was then, now I am this, one who drives to the level of nearly missing suicide by a micromile/hour speed. Why do I do that? ‘I don’t know! That’s what I am trying to figure out’

A Humble Note: If (it’s a big ‘if’) by some mishap or misfortune, I end up dead from a road accident (in which I drive), please don’t curse my dead body over my recklessness or pity the way I died. Coz, if this is the way I see the gates of heaven (or hell), then this particular path I chose, would have definitely given me the satisfaction to smile and die the way I am truly made in my life. No regrets on that part. And finally, I’ve had my license signed for organ donation, and so please keep at least a few parts of my body alive by filling up someone’s need and then submit my corpse to my parents and friends. They will understand.

PS, I spoke what I felt from the heart. So please don’t assume that I am in some kind of trouble or am feeling bad about life and similar bullshit. I just escaped the abysmal hell and there is no way I would be sad about my life. ;) :) :D

Cheers everyone…

Wednesday night, I was invited for a dinner. Decided to get some flowers in celebration of his recent marriage and managed to squeeze in a few driving minutes to Kroger. An old lady around her late 70’s saw the dozen yellow roses in my hands, as I ran towards the queued up aisle and commented, “Someone special is getting flowers” at the top of her voice. With the day completely engrossed in an analysis, and since I was running in a hurry to keep up with my schedule, my blood narrowed to her level of loudness. A few faces turned towards me and I instantly froze for a second. Her age, her warm smile, her quip, overall her interest in an internationals opinion to get flowers for someone ‘Special’ [my friend’s wife? :o :))] made me soil out and offer a couple of roses to her with a smile and say, “Flowers for 'this' special lady too.” “Oh how nice of you! Now run. She is waiting. Shoo.. Shooo…” she shouted (loud) again. Couldn't stop laughing till I reached my friend's apartment. Had a great dinner followed up by a meeting with a senior friend (one of the very few who inspired me to take up academics) who came all the way from another country for her one week training.

The bee seemed lazy compared to me on Thursday. The effect of cricket has made me really focus a great deal of concentration on my work and at 10 pm after my cricket practice, I was exhausted. By 2 am I gained some life and decided to take a nap. A few minutes into my bed, I heard the chirps of birds. Took my chair out to the patio, sat down on it, and listened to the birds chirping, figuring out - where they were hiding and which one made its characteristic chirp. At 5 am (Yes! 3 hours of bird watching) spread some rice grains on the patio and went to bed. With the rice half gone in the morning, decided to build a bird grain cage/hanging whenever I get some free time. I just need to make sure that ‘Puddles’ (The stray cat I and another friend found in a puddle of snow molten water) doesn’t disturb them while he has his taste of milk in my patio in the mornings.

Finally, the day when I was drenched in ice water since I ended up saving the game, happened on Saturday when I played a Captain’s knock to march the team to victory. Though I was tired out of the not-out from the ‘first ball till end’ game, I ended up watching the fireworks in Louisville for the Derby festival. Another hour of driving back to Lexington, I was tired enough to sleep over the restaurant table. But somehow, the pressure of yapping, from my other roomie boiled my blood to a level of forking his life out with the silverware. Luckily, I was encountered with this cute 6 or 7 year old kid. She was crayoning out a house with the help of her dad and once in a while she returned the wave we gave her. Instead of killing my yappy roomie for tormenting me, I forced/pushed him into using his Origami skill to make a swan out of the paper napkin. Went over to the cute kid’s table, asked for her red crayon, drew the eyes for the swan, and gave it to her. A heart filled thanks from her parents, followed by a coyish smile from her was enough to bring all three of the friends to feel accomplished.

Hope this luck of running into anti-stress agents continue to occur this week too. Now its time to get back to work, and finish it off before I crash for a power nap in the evening.

“He is going for a good length and that too outside off delivery” – reading your rivals mind.

“Just as I had expected. Good length, uncontrolled to half volley” – self appreciation of my judgment and good concentration.

“Just slash the damn wide one. Definite four” – confident judgment of your surroundings.

“Oh Ohh! This is not my bat. This ain’t long handle. Don’t reach it” – split second risk assessment.

“Just check the shot! Punt! Punt!” – adapting to avoid failure.

Three quarters into the knee down cover drive, my dusk light eyes noticed the thick inside edge bouncing off the artificial turf, and BHAM! A hard French kiss with the white leather ball, and it bit my upper lip. Donating blood to the grassy pitch, I thought,

“Oh Kay captain! You escaped from getting out! But you’re hit! Be strong! Don’t act stupid and scare the new guys. It’s part of the game” and in five seconds, I spat all the blood out, did a gargle of the loosened gum and said, “Come on! Lets not waste anymore time! Bowlers be ready, others back to your fielding positions” – Ready to take another blow spirit. Brave enough to gain the respect and trust of the team. Team chemistry instantly improved. Half an hour later, the dusk won over our fervent interests to hone our willow skills.

End note I gave the team - “And finally, after today’s incident I think it would be necessary for all players to use helmets while playing” an immediate rapture of laughter.

‘Team chemistry and safety is the most crucial thing I need to achieve. The rest is text book teaching’ I thought to myself.

“I won’t lie to you guys. I was shit scared. So I wore the helmet. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt. So as a coward ‘STRICT’ captain, I am making it a mandatory practice to wear helmets” – a lie for the safety of the team.

On the way out off the ground, “Coward captain? Nice move! Keep it up”, the senior player quipped.

“In the interest of the team, I had to lie”, I smiled.

“I know! You hated wearing helmets. But today you answered my doubts on your captaincy. The season is going to be good. Don’t worry”, he assured.

About a day from that incident, I’ve got phone calls, messages and even ‘get well soon bhai’ e-card (Very smart bheedu). Thanks for your concern guys. I look cool with the swollen lip. In fact I can mimic Silverster Stallone with ease. But better of all, I am making most of my friends laugh when I convey them that I got the swollen lip from my hot girl friend’s smooch ;)………..

Off the Lip [Pretty girls can stick to it, if you wish to ;)]: Outrageously busy! Loved and hated the songs ‘Dil Haara’ from Tashan (what the hell does Tashan mean?) and ‘Champagne Supernova’ by Oasis (which I’ve been listening to the past several months) coz these are great songs, with Charlie Wilson’s War Ending – ‘F***ed up the end game’. I hate it when musicians end soft songs with blaring electric music or some crap techno mix, shouting at the top of their voice, just to show the intense ending. That’s ridiculous beyond imagination. ‘Falak Tak’ from Tashan sounds familiar. But don’t have the time to find an answer. Except this Friday evening, my ass is up on the hot grill. And if you haven't guessed it yet - Besame Mucho means Kiss me more (an old spanish classic song) :*

Singing on the top of my voice wasn’t easy with my jaws aching from the laughter, I had to put up with Vic Henley for two full hours. $9 worth ticket, but the show was $900 worth laughter. While the fun side of me enjoyed the whole show, the technical part of my brain answered one ambiguous joke, ‘Bill Clinton doesn’t need a condom coz all he does is go for a B*** J**’. Was it perfect timing to be a pervert, I had no clue, it made most of the undergrads laugh and also think on the joke. The inter to the Karaoke party was filled with 8 games of pool, in which I had to offer shots to their wives (just to keep them interested and not wonder why they were asked to come there), hyped around with the ladies to have some fun, played a nail biting air hockey game (I lost at the buzzer by one goal), tones of fun with the intoxicated friends, and a few jolly good songs sung with the equally cool guys. Finally it felt like a good Wednesday.

Thursday was the balance shaft of Wednesday night’s party. Worked like a (obviously) work horse. Even took my time off between work to read articles like Endorphins secreted while dancing (Just google search. I am tired enough not to post the link). Shy dancers, read the article and have fun doing the 'get up now and do a two second woo hoo dance'

Friday was a special day. I had to finish my draft for a paper in the morning by 12 and my time was very tight. It was one of those rare occasions when my level of concentration was at the peak. Four hours later (after mailing the draft to my advisor and running to the loo, like a fire engine blaring wooo woooo; I need to go to the looo), I saw my invisible taskbar showing 6 friends giving me the Hi’s in gtalk messages. I had no recollection of seeing even one window. I achieve this concentration daily for 3 hours – I’ll graduate in four months. Evening time was fantastic. A good friend’s birthday was celebrated and we ended up playing games including Moment of Truth till 1:30 am. It was then followed by a long drive to US-68 teaching a friend on driving on curvy roads, few moments of serenity sitting outside and a drowsy dinner at Dennys.

Saturdays nap was cut short drastically trying to help an old lady move out, U-Haul my bro’s stuff to Louisville, 4 hours of physical and mental work out in practice, an ‘acid-toed’ tight and busy experiment, movie 21 (How come, everything I watch turn out to be stuff related to Geeks and Nerds?), sarcastic jokes (was on the receiving end), and some time spent with the awakened roomie.

Sunday was desperately sleep deprived. Drive to Louisville with my brother's friend's mom (and I loved listening to all her concerned advices). Emptied the whole U-Haul stuff (What’s with me and my family, always ending up renting houses in the top most floor?), arranged a few, drove 40 miles to my bro’s friend's shop. There he asked me to give him suggestions on how to improve his business. The shop was located in the center of a circle surrounded by Pizza Hut (rules out most gas station food and lottery system), Liquor Shop (Beer days goes to the drain), Walgreens (people won’t even walk in for aspirin) and best of all – Speedway (thanks to the speedy card, even Americans love to get free offers and so go over there. That throws the fuel pumps into the rust). Three hours later, they understood the way things are supposed to be arranged, lit, dazzled, bee-hived, racked, showy’ed, advertised, etc and all I got was a vanilla sandwich ice cream bar as the consultancy charge. In fact till this moment I’d been living on vanilla ice cream sandwich from Thursday (I was dead hungry the whole half week). Guess I can confidently step into the marketing world with blinds. The return was all traffic filled zip zaps at average 90 mph (Thanks to aunty sleeping. She had no clue what I was doing), a heavy meal of one pack of noodles (even sprinklers feel Godly in a drought area), a 15 minute nap disturbed at the third minute (had to pick up my bro from the U-Haul return), a full hour of gaped sleep, and finally some time to see the world in my own style. Three hours later, Sunday ended. Lab work is done for the night. Now I can go home, shave into the Dil Chahtha Hai look, and crash before I get up in 4 more hours for my individual meeting with my advisor.

If someone finds life in planets beyond level of Earth, please do call me. I’ll have extended weekends over there at least. PS. Thanks to the dozen people who mailed me not only Pride by Syntax, but the whole Meccan Minds album.

This week: Tuesday, and Thursday evening is already filled with crucial selection practice for Saturday's friendly game against EKU. Wednesday is gonna be a drive to Cinci to meet a great person from the past, visiting for a week from Beijing (I'll be shouting Hudibaba, hudibaba, hudibaba.... :D). That leaves me with Monday and Friday evenings to work on my lower hand injury (which I haven't passed it to the team mates). As the song (running at the background) by Violet Burning says, "I'm no Superman" and I need to face one more week to improve myself for the low probable not so sure future.