The Things I'll Do For A JoB

It's summer. Not summer like the way it is in Mumbai, where its fashionable to bitch about how hot it is. No. I'm talking about a real summer here.

Summer like 45 degrees C and 4% humidity.

Summer in the way that water supply is limited to once in two days.

Summer in the way that people pray for the safe return of those who venture out during the day.

Summer in the way that you wish that God would throw a planet sized bucket of water on the Sun and douse its anger even if just for an instant.

This is Bhopal, and when most of Bhopal's population is vacationing somewhere saner, I've decided to head here. However, my trip here is not some miscalculated holiday. I'm here because, as a wise man once said, I need a job.

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Why in Bhopal?

Here's why:

I often mock people who stay stuck in Mumbai all their lives. I laugh at them for being closed to the experiences that other places offer. I rubbish their claim that Mumbai is the best place in the country because most of them have never lived outside it (I have, btw). I breezily dismiss their contention that they manage to get a feel of other places simply by visiting them. I often preach to these folks that they need to stay in a place at least for a few months to really experience it.

So when I got a chance to practice what I so vehemently preach, I jumped at it. That's how I find myself in Bhopal. That's also how I realise that in 5 days outside it, I miss Mumbai just as much as any of these people .In fact, I can't wait to get back there.

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My welcome to Bhopal was eventful. The pick up car developed a flat a few seconds after take off. The driver treated this like your average everyday event and went about fixing it on his own. It took half an hour to get started again. That's when the air conditioning hit the wall and I was treated to 17 kms of dust storms early in the morning.

The following day I went to work, which is about 30kms in the direction of even hotter. Our transport was, of course, not air conditioned. I got through the day with the usual first day ritual. You know, medical tests, laptop allocation, email setup etc etc.

On the way back there was a group of 3 gentlemen sitting in the back. In the paralysing heat, with dust blowing in every visible direction and with a 30 km journey just beginning, I felt like my end was near. These guys, however, looked like they couldn't care less. They were having a deeply philosophical conversation. One of them was quoting freely from the Ramayana, Gita, Mahabharata, whatever. He would quote, then pause to explain and then ask for doubts. The others were infinitely curious and they kept quizzing him on the rehasya of what he was quoting.

All this was in perfect Hindi, not a word of anything else. No Hinglish, no Urdu dilution.

At first I was pissed. I mean it's the hottest place on Earth, the least they could do was shut up. But then I started listening, and very soon I was captivated. I got lost in the what they spoke and how they said it. I guess there's something magical when a language is spoken the way it was meant to be. Something magical when people speak of things written millennia ago but with each thought still as fresh today as it was when it was first thought. When the accents of the people are so in harmony with the region that their conversation is intriguing even when the sun is furious and the land is on fire.

Thirty minutes later, I'd completely forgotten the heat and the dust. In fact, I would've stayed in that vehicle a lot longer had I not reached my stop. It was only my first day, and I'd already managed to get a taste of India. The kind of taste that Mumbai can never offer. Maybe this place wasn't going to be that bad after all.

My dad always tells me that "you don't get nothing worthwhile without a sacrifice, and if you do you won't like it". On Day 2 I was asked to make my first sacrifice. I was being issued my safety boots and respirator when suddenly a gentleman came up to me with a smile on his face. It was the kind of smile that clearly says, "I may be smiling, but this is going to be fun only for me".

He said, "Sir mujhe ek baat kehni hai......yeh jo ....matlab..... aap apnee daadi udwaa lo" (Sir, there's something I have to say......your beard has to go). Aghast I looked at him unbelievingly. My beard??!! Why in God's name??

He continued, "Sir woh jo respirator hai usmein suffocation ho sakta hai, french cut se bhi..." (The beard can cause suffocation in the respirator, even if it's a french beard).

"French!....French!!!!!", I thought. This was no French beard! It was my very own self styled little crop. How dare he call it French!

Collecting myself, I realised that singed as I was about what he called it, the fact that he wanted me to get rid of it was probably a bigger issue. I stuttered all over the place, "Par...par ...par aap logon kee toh sabki moonche hain!" (But all of you have mosutaches).

He replied without the slightest change in his smiley expression, "Haan Sir moonch chalti hai". (Sure, a moustache is permitted).

Then he went on to politely tell me that even being unkempt (except for the moustache, of course) was "red-line behaviour" and all that could befall me if I were to behave in a "red-line" manner. The smile never faded, by the way.

Now here's the thing about my beard. The last time I was seen without it was years back. I'd had it shaved as an experiment. The experiment had caused me to face much ridicule (pun intended), lose half my friends (they disowned me) and not be able to go out with my family (they didn't want to be seen with me in public). Back then I'd decided that the beard and I would never part again. As Suddu put it, "Dude, I think a naked upper lip is just not your thing".

But who would explain all this to this heartless gentleman. So casually he asked me to snip it off, like it was no big deal.

Sigh! I knew I had to do it. The next morning, my chin saw the light of day after years in waiting. I didn't get rid of the moustache though, I thought it was best to hold on to whatever I could.

That was the sacrifice. The first of many, I assume.

Ahh, such are the times and such is life, the things I'll do for a job!!