Sweet Dreams (poetry)

-FULL THROTTLE ON NATIONAL HIGHWAY #38

FULL THROTTLE ON NATIONAL HIGHWAY  38

A TRAVELOGUE BY SANTANU CHANGMAI

                                        Four crisp and young persons on six wheels and randomly stuffed back packs with the gusto to fluster the deep slumber of the inert neighborhoods just off the National Highway numbered 37 may be a peccadillo which simmering blooded readers just like you may wink at and overlook on purpose. Not that we are fond of generating a rumpus every day even before the most energetic rooster of the block sang a rock-a-doodle-do. But when there is a mission to be accomplished, say, like a self-established operation of covering a distance of 175 odd kilometers, arrive at a certain place, explore it, and then again ride back home, even the rooster alarm could be skipped without a pinch of guilt. And that we did on a fine arctic misty morning of January this year.

                                        Basu, Neha, Sunny and I were the chosen ones to rove & roll on our mean thunderbirds on a Lifetime journey to the wonderful place named/called Digboi that is situated almost on the edge of the frame of Assam. We had set off from Jorhat town earlier than the earliest morning which occurred to be a terrible idea soon leading to slow down the speedometers to less than even 50km/hour. The highway looked just like a never-ending fraction of an extensive serpent ready and so eager to wolf down the four of us together. The term Visibility range appeared to be ambiguous as we could see nothing and nothing but undescribed circumference of white fog and vapor besieging everything around us. Advice number one, don’t forget to put on hand gloves if you are expecting to ride a bike on an icy early daylight which Basu did unpremeditatedly and started regretting as soon as the foggy stream of razor-sharp air ran through his bare skin straight into his blood. Neha wanted to substitute him as the temporary pilot till the sun would come out and make us warm, but Basu accepted the challenge of facing the eerie wind than risking something like letting his cherished 350 cc monster into the hands of an amateur young woman.

                                    My IPod loaded with Mark knopfler and other similar numbers helped to cut the tribulation to an extent. Pretty soon, after we had covered nearly 40-50 km, we could see an enchanting spectacle of an ocean full of soft light waves overwhelming the surroundings in a magical fashion. But the zealous fog wouldn’t go, which meant we still needed to keep the headlights on. An absolute expedition it was turning out to be, for the haziness added the sheer sensation of thrill and joy into us as the tyres rolled on through the moist & mushy tarred road.

                                   In a state like Assam filled with the blissful harmony of Mother Nature, the winters are normally mysterious. There would be a drizzle today and tomorrow there would be unsullied sunshine which would be followed by a blanket of impenetrable fog starting from midnight till 7 AM. Our Itinerary said, we needed to pass through the horizontal district of Sivsagar by 6 AM and reach Dibrugarh town half an hour later than that. On the contrary the clock marked roughly 7.30 when we entered the center of Dibrugarh town.  The pangs of morning hunger and the search for a good food joint to relieve ourselves- just equivalent to looking for a 200 ml water bottle in the Sahara desert!  They don’t sell the same quality Chhole bhaturas there as it is done in Delhi and Punjab, but hold on; they have some thing tastier to offer- Paranthas stir fried on hot oil that took a puffy appearance, which are served with a mixed vegetable dish containing peas, potatoes, tomatoes, a lots of spice and curd. Enjoyed every bit of it except the curd part which seemed unsuitable to be absorbed on a cold weather like this.

                                 8 AM- all stuffed with breakfast and 75 kilometers yet to go! Of course it would be a sin to take more than one hour to cover this length given that we were in possession of such heavy engines and such a wonderful highway lay further on. But Dibrugarh to Tinsukia town road just started cheating us here and there with sudden potholes and exhausted tar work. The growing traffic of routine tempos, three wheelers and heavy vehicles made it tricky for us to reach the Tinsukia town. And what a lively town it was! Vibrant, buzzing and bustling with people and automobiles in all directions. It took us a while before we could leave highway 37 and budge to 38 to turn the right gears towards our original destination. Assam's first oil city with a history going back to the early 18th century was only 28 kms away. The NH-38 which connected the Tinsukia town to Digboi which boasted of the oldest Oil Refinery in the entire Asian continent surprised us in the most beautiful way. It was bigger, better, smoother like the Spanish butter and we began to love the ride. First, it was Sunny who did the worthy thing… he throttled the accelerator the meanest way. Before long enough, the three thunderbirds were talking to the air, I switched off my IPod just to listen to the rattle and hum, and all the four of us went full throttle wrapping the 28 km span in less than 15 minutes. This was such a thrill; we had little time to observe the picturesque surroundings including fields, tea gardens and people. A railway track ran just parallel to our road till we arrived at the hotspot.

                      A town more than hundred year old and still so gracious proved to be the most accurate place to hang around for the next seven hours. We opened the innings by visiting the most heard about place- the centenary Museum. It gave us all the data we needed to know about the township, the Refining industry, its history and heritage. This place has been producing and supplying Oil since 1890, has survived two world wars, colonialism, the Indian Freedom movement and many other things, still standing in all its glory.

                      One big benefit of taking a two wheeler on a journey is that, there is no need to hunt for paid taxis or vehicles. Roaming around uselessly for an hour gave us the wisdom and concept of the town and its people. Well planned, well decorated and wall maintained are the three adjectives it would always bear. The town contains around eight schools and two colleges of high repute. Half the population stay in customized Indian Oil Corp houses while the other half has managed to craft own buildings with either brick or mud. A diverse range starting from Tamil, Bihari, Bengali people to the local Assamese people testified the vintage splendor the town carried.

                           The war cemetery built to honor the dead soldiers during the world wars, the war bunkers and the golf course (the largest in the upper Assam) gave us the delightful feeling about a group of white people who had ruled our nation for 200 years. Fabulous architecture, wonderful planning and brilliant taste for excellence!

                                   We had a little difficulty in finding our lunch though, as the town has very less number of food joints that can offer varieties and taste at the same time. Advice number 2- always pack light & ready made lunch if you are not sure enough.

                                    The second phase made us cover the Centenary tourist park built upon and around a small lake very cleverly and in a stunning manner. Boating on the lake was a memory we would cherish for a long time. But it also delayed us to finish a very crucial task. Till the time we reached the Giant, highly equipped Oil Refinery gates, the visiting hours were over. For high alert security reasons, the gentle guards didn’t let us in after repetitive petitions. So advice number 3- if you intend to visit this majestic town anytime, don’t be bewildered by its other monuments and super scenic beauty. First, one should procure a written permission from the officials to visit the Refinery area. The other places are open and could be visited anytime except the Oil fields and the refining corners.

                              Twilight hours and we were back on our bikes- overwhelmed, satisfied and a little sad at the same time. As the grip of our gloves tried to do a full throttle on the silky road again, something inside hindered the practice letting it go again and again. May be it was an unknown feeling, the sense of falling in love at the first sight with a person, or rather with a place to be accurate!!!

                                                                             ---THE END---

 Contact: santanu.changmai@gmail.com

once upon a time in Delhi

A man said to the cop: "Why do u allow such beggars to hang around here and there to irritate us?"

The beggar came a step forward and said : " kyun? hum kya pedd (tree) phad kar paida huye hain? Kya hum maa ki god se paida nehi huye?"

He had fume in his voice, his eyes were dry and smoky, and his lips parted to reveal his yellow brownish pair of teeth : " Humarey bhi family hai, humein bhi unhe paalna padta hai. Ciggerette, bidi se hi kaam chala leta hoon; Afim, Ganja kabhi nehi peeta".

Another man chopped in : " Dekha?  Yahaan athanni ke liye gid gida kar bheekh maangta hai, aur baat karta hai charas, ganja ki..."

" kyun na ho"- the first man took over again " meri monthly pagaar hai barah hazaar teen shi rupeeya- ee sasura toh us se bhi jyada kama leta hai- aur ise toh flat ka kiraya aur scooter ki EMI bhi nehi bharna padta".

The men departed slowly.

One third person, who was touched to the heart looking at the handicap of the beggar and his short of budget to buy charas- offered him a wills classic regular and asked - " Kitne din se ho is dhande me?"

The beggar trapped the stick into his ugly dry colourless lips, the matchbox between his chin and the shoulder, lighted it skilfully using only one limb, and replied " Almost for eight years". " It pays me very well, but i dont have the means to enjoy the money I earn".

"Well, what do u mean by no means?"

" Aap apni aur meri surat ko gaur se dekhiye. Phir humare body ko dekho. Aap sahi salamat ho... aur mera ek taang aur ek haath nehi hai. Kaun achha dukan dar ya hotel walla mujhe iss bhesh me andar jaane dega?" He kept inhaling the classic smoke like a bidi..

" Arrey, iss desh me koi bhi bhesh chalega- agar tumhare paas rokda ho toh!
Agar tumhare paas gandhi bharpur ho toh tees din me tees bibiyan badal sakte ho".

" Lekiin saheb, badalne  ki baat toh wohi log karte hain jo apnee vartmaan se khush na ho, hai na? "

" kaun saala iss duniya me khush hai? Peon se lekar PM tak sab dukhi hai".

" Toh phir woh badalte kyun nehi?"

" Koi raasta sujhe tab na?"

" Mere paas ek raasta hai- jahaan aap jitni marzi kama sakte hain, Income tax bharne ki jaroorat bhi nehi".

" Achha? Wo kya cheez hai bhai? Mujhe bataa, main bhi karoonga..."

"... Thik hai- kal se ek katora le ke aana apne saath, dono bhai saath mil kar mangenge..."

" Dhat sala".


@ copy rights: SANTANU CHANGMAI

PICK POCKETS & F'SHIP DAY

          ONE:

          I know some body who is more talented than the natural pick pockets.

He can lift 5 books from a shop at the same time- one book may have a hard cover & contain a thousand pages, it doesn't matter; He can steal them from a shop with four salesmen & ten customers moving around, He can pick books from a Book Fair and come out victorious without anyone catching a hint, He can do his work so clean, so precisely; He needs no tools, no assistants, no jute bags to carry the loot.

He may be a Kleptomaniac, He may do it for thrill & showmanship, but summing up he posseses all the qualities required to be a pickpocketeer. But he is not in the Gang yet because his work is more sophisticated, non-profit & consumes so less time (barely 15 mins.)

So he is now a part of an NGO who pleads people to plant more trees to make this planet greener.
A good career shift dude, congrats!

           TWO:

            We were in college then, my room-mate called up from his landline phone at home to inform me that he shall be occuring at the New Delhi Railway station after 2 days of travelling & manuring our country's railway tracks (u know about it right) along with other fellow passengers. I recently had bought a mobile phone (they were rare and costly at that initial period) to impress a girl who had offered to go on a blind date with me (now, that's another story).

When the day arrived to receive my friend, I boarded a crowded bus from a south Delhi Bus Stop that was heading to the Rly. Station. Within minutes, my mobile was gone.

I looked around in despair, tried to create a hue & cry, frisked the people standing near me, but it was taken.

I got down at the next stop, took a three wheeler & reached the station where this friend was waiting for me with all smiles and all his luggage.

What a price to pay for your Friendship which you never know would last how far! But till you can pull, give your best efforts, because  a good buddy is some one who can bring tears to your eyes when u r smiling, and vice-versa!!

A real friend is so hard to find, and so easy to lose!!

Cherish the friends you still have, give them a hug or a call and tell them 'No matter how stupid or funny they appear when they sing, they are a Joy- a treasure'.

Wish you all a nice Friendship Day coming!!

3 Cheers!

my FAVORITE girls

"you are my special little lady
the one that makes me crazy" - justin bieber.

         A few of my friends know me as an introvert, a few others know me as an outspoken guy; while a few more know me as a 'party-goer' with no time left for philosophy, a bunch of them think that I'm an workaholic, many of them know about my uncurable addiction for movies (i bunked so many hundred classes for catching the morning shows); a very close ones know about my meditation & other weird habits; some know it so well that I am such a digger for good food (specially if it is Punjabi or Italian) ; a few of them definitely call me a big "bore"; & to many I am still their " chaddi-buddy".
     
But the Funny thing is a very Few of the people who know me have the slightest Idea about the Favorite Girls I adore.

Of course I can't name all of them here, many of them are now using the surnames of their sweet hubbys, a few of them are building dream castles with their boyfriends, a few other are on the threshold of Love wondering if to fall in or out of it (love is like that), a very few of them are still lucratively single chasing the dreams they saw while they were teenagers; & a lot of them are busy shooting in Hollywood, writing, managing a company, or playing tennis or karate, or may be speaking in public and motivating them to do something worthwhile in life.

So many Favorite Girls, So many Favorite Women have been Created by god who drive me Crazy. Every one is special, Everyone has a unique Charm in herself, everybody has got a glow in her that pulls the bug in me like a magnet to glorify my 'bugness' in 'her glow' amidst such a dark world in such irresponsible times.

Be it Hillary Swank, Paris Hilton, the Old bollywood's Nutan, the lead singer from Pussycat dolls, an unknown Face from the page 19 of an Infamous magazine, my junior's sister (2 yrs elder to me), a girl 13 years younger to me, a girl who works for a magazine & writes blogs to show how romantic she could be; the girl i met in an unplanned visit to a Gurudwara, the girl who was dating her guy & was pulling his hair to give him the look of a 80's rockstar; the one whom i have not yet met, & may be will meet tomorrw & many days that will be coming-  all of them are my favorite girls.

Like The Big Guy said  in mahabharatha the only thing you can do is to ACT & not expect the result (can you do it in real life?). So many nice, sweet  girls, so many favorite girls, & such less time to let them Know that  'They Are'.

Of Course You Can't go & propose them All!!

But that's the Least thing you could Do! Or tell 'her' that she is one of your Favorite Girls!!

At least to make them feel better even if it may last only for a moment...!!!