Gazab ka ek din...

Note: The following is an excerpt from my diary. I write to my diary as to a person and so most of the references I’ve made are to it and not to you (except the ones in the end).

Day 46 – Tuesday, February 03, 2009.

Happy New Year. Our irregularity in meeting continues… and with it keeps rising the pile of events I have to tell you. The last month was moderately eventful. Annette is now married to Sheril and he asked me to be the ‘best man’ for him. That was some experience, but that is not the reason I am writing to you today. By the way Shimona has also wed Kevin in the last month. Coming back, there is a more pressing issue to tell you about – Yes! More pressing than the wedding. I now begin the tale of how I, no we, celebrated the republic day. Here goes…

Gazab ka ek din

10 boys. 1 day. Friendship…

We had a retreat the previous day (another thing I have to tell you about), i.e. Sunday the 25^th, and we decided to camp at Bonny’s place after it. There were 8 of us in the night – Bonny (obviously!), Griffin, Winson, Elroy, Ravi, Glenn, John, Adarsh (who went back early in the morning because of his church picnic) and I (Enoch). It was definitely not one of our better night-outs and was pretty drab. We just danced a little – very little – and then sat to watch ‘Madagascar 2’. Most of us were pretty drained, owing to the retreat – especially the ‘masti’ we did on the road while returning -, and didn’t last through the movie, me included. But of whatever I saw in the movie, ‘King Julian’ was excellent. I digress. Anyways, when we awoke, Sheril and Kevin had joined us and Adarsh had already left. Sairith joined us in the afternoon. Sheril’s stay was a brief one; probably his newly acquired marital status is to blame. I rose to the classic voice of Mark Knofler (singer of Dire Straits – for all those of you who have lived your lives without knowing that) singing some beautiful songs, songs I had never heard before; which reminds me, I have to get them from Bonny. I digress.

Thus we started the day, completely oblivious of what is to come - completely oblivious that this would go down as one of the greatest days of our lives…

So everyone’s up and just chillin, to lazy to even stir. Then sets in the realisation that we need some breakfast and so into the kitchen go some of the ‘bavarchi’ boys - me included… Naah! Just kiddin. – to conjure up some food. Now when they were at that, we, the lazier bums, resumed where we had left off the previous day and started dancing. I don’t know who’s to blame for it but we were dancing to Hindi songs – which probably was what triggered something which eventually led to a memorable end. It was pretty crazy and funny too. We even head-banged on ‘Rock on’ songs (He he… imagine that!!!). Our breakfast, which was noodles with some vegetables and other stuff in it (do you seriously expect me to know?!), was finally ready, it was pretty good. After food we just sat singing some of the craziest songs we knew (all Hindi again), for eg. ‘What is mobile no.?’ and other Anu Malik unforgettables. Somebody then had the idea of playing ‘Truth and Dare’ which was highly entertaining. Most of the dares were downright crazy. I had to pluck a hair from Bonny’s head. Sairith’s dare had a patriotic tinge to it, he had to scream ‘Jai Hind. Bharat mata ki jai.’ at the top of his voice from the balcony. The bewildered expression on the faces of the kids playing below and a family in the opposite building was hilarious. Glenn had to do a head-stand (with a lot of help from us, of course), Winson 50 crunches, John ate a raw egg straight from the shell and Elroy had to propose to and kiss a doll. Bonny, who refrains from dancing in public, had to dance solo, almost solo (he had John for company), on ‘Apdi pode’ – now that was a sight to savour, he went absolutely ballistic. Ravi had to call Rev. Santosh and scream, “Hello aiiya! Ravi here! Happy Republic day! Jai Hind!” click. Aiiya called back because he was totally clueless of what had just happened. The best part is that we have all this (all the dares) on tape. It was then time for the ‘Truths’. Everyone’s secrets were laid bare, Sairith being the only exception. Spoilsport! Don’t dare ask me, or anyone for that matter, cause we’re not telling anything. Griffin and Kevin, who had gone back home returned during this time. Lunch came next – scrambled eggs, chicken nuggets and fingers with bread. It was around this time, I guess, that Glenn, again I guess, said that this was probably one of the better day-outs we’ve had. He was, of course, unaware that what was to come would make it undoubtedly the best. And here’s what came next…

It was a little after 3 pm I recon. We were just sitting lazily pondering over and discussing some of the recent revelations, especially the funnier ones. One thing that the ‘Truth’ session had done was to bring us all closer to each other and remove all inhibitions, if there were any in the first place. I think it was Sairith who started singing some Hindi songs. Before anyone even realised it, we had all joined in the singing. We then went on to sing old Hindi movie numbers. I, being an amateur at Hindi music, just managed to join the others in the choruses but the true king of Bollywood was Griffin. He knew the lyrics of all the songs!!! I was completely floored by the lyrics in some of the songs. Every single one of us was in our own world and were singing the songs with all our hearts. Some of the songs were extremely appealing, well all of them were in their own way, but some more than others; like when we sang ‘Har kis ko nahi milta yahaan pyaar zindagi me’ all of us single boys, among those present, raised our hands. Some songs like ‘Pyaar ka nagma’, ‘Tujse naraaz’, ‘Jaane tu’ (old), ‘Sach mere yaar hai’, ‘Yakeen’ by Atif, etcetera were pretty emotionally stirring. It was Bonny who said, “If we were drinkers, we’d be crying by now.” The song ‘Dreamgirl’ created in us all an unexpected surge of hope, we all sat up straight reassuring each other while singing it. Man! In hindsight it all sounds so funny. I don’t remember half the songs we sang but what I do remember is all of them were great. I am now a devout fan of old Hindi music. We’d been singing for around two and a half hours and it was almost six now. Some of us had already started dressing up to leave and this was when I started ‘Gazab ka hai din’. I, personally, had second thoughts about singing this song because I thought it would not go with the mood created. Boy was I wrong! When we sang the line, “dekh lo humko kareeb se, aaj hum mile hai naseeb se” we all stopped whatever it was that we were doing and looked at each other and then as we sang the next line, “ye pal fir kahaan, aur ye manzil fir kahaan”, time stood still. We, at that instant, had a moment that’ll last forever. We sang that verse again during which I removed my spectacles as they were already getting a little moist, a stroke of great foresight.

[I’ll deviate a little to a relevant tangent. Bonny is gonna shift from his place in a few days and this was supposedly the last nite-out we were to have in his current place]

We all sank back into our places after ‘Gazab ka hai din’ and someone suggested we sing ‘Yaaron’. Bonny, who had the guitar at that time, started playing the intro. He played it once… no one started. He played it a second time but this time he stops abruptly and says, “Mai nahi baja sakta”, puts his head down and starts to cry. Griffin, who’s left his seat to come console Bonny finds me, who was sitting beside Bonny, weeping like a kid. He comes to me only to turn towards Sairith, who by this time has completely broken down. We weren’t just crying, it was more like an uncontrolled weeping, a wailing. Every single one of us cried that day, Winson probably the only exception because he was on the phone while the initial outburst happened. The crying and hugging went on for quite some time. We then huddled up together and sang ‘yaaron’. We then went on to sing some gospel numbers like ‘Bind us together Lord’, ‘What a friend we have in Jesus’ and ‘Loving God, loving each other’. It was probably the worst group singing we must have ever done and we must have sounded horrible through all the snivelling, no one person managing more than a couple words per line. It was also probably the best group singing we’ve ever done. Most of us had gathered ourselves before we reached ‘Loving God’ but we broke down again as we sang that song. I used to think the line ‘and the story never ends’ didn’t really fit into the song, but that was all before the 26^th because when we sang it on that day it sure did make a world of sense to me. We went on to pray, all of us still in a huddle. It was, for lack of a better word, beautiful, simply beautiful. It was when we were praying that Bonny’s parents returned but by then we were all pretty composed. After concluding our prayer we drank the tea Bonny’s mummy had prepared for us while we discussed what had just happened. You could hear lines like, “Mai do saal ke baad roya yaar.” and “mai teen saal ke baad roya”. We were also back to our usual ways of teasing each other – this time on different styles of crying (some were really funny). But we all knew that something had changed and something between us was different now and that, with all the truth-revealing and the crying, we were closer to each other than we ever were. And we all, each one of us, want that something to never change again.

It’s true that the greatest friends you have are the ones you can cry with. Looking back, I don’t really know why I cried that day but I’m glad that I did. Bonny’s shifting was a factor but he is still gonna be with us for some time and so it was not that pressing an issue. I guess it was just the line ‘ye pal fir kahaan’ that kept playing in my mind like a broken stereo. Probably it was my gratitude towards God for giving me such great friends that brought me to tears. The exact reason, I guess, I’ll never know and I’d rather keep it that way. I, today, want to thank you all, those who were there and those of you who weren’t, for being a friend to me. You have been one of God’s greatest blessings to me and I cannot thank Him enough for you. It is impossible to overestimate the influence you have been to me. A great part of what I am today is because of you. I pray that, whatever the circumstance and wherever we may go, we never give up this beautiful relationship of friendship that we have between us. Rather let us grow closer towards each other and, with each other’s help, towards our God. I’d also ask you that whenever in the day I, or any of your friends, do venture in your thoughts, say for me a line to our God because I may be in desperate need of it. Thank you for everything. Thank you very much.

‘Loving God, loving each other,

making music with my friends.

Loving God, loving each other,

and the story never ends.’

This story will never end…

A friend,

Enoch Soans.

The greatest decision of my life (Cont.)

The choir practice was finally over and the time came for us to go back home. Being at home was as difficult as being in the church, if not more difficult. At least in church there were many faces, among which I could disguise my grief, and sometimes myself, a luxury evidently absent at home. But I felt my resolve grow stronger at home. Dinner went off smoothly, the T.V. proving to be quite a useful distraction. I was consciously aware that my time of reckoning was drawing closer with every passing second. And finally it came - the time of our family prayer. Dada and Mama were talking something and I just sat there, listening to everything, hearing nothing; my mind overworked with anxiety and planning. I hoped that their conversation would never end (Its funny how people tend to hope against hope when faced with a dire situation, now that I’m into psychology I’ve begun to take special interest in such common strange thought processes. Why did I not think of psychology before??? Why??? It now seems like I’m tailor-made for it. Anyways it’s good that I realised it before it was too late. Better late than never.) But alas it ended and Dada was getting ready to pray. That was when I hit the panic button. This was the moment about which I had thought the whole day and now that it was finally here………….. I didn’t know what to do. All my preparation and planning and mock mental rehearsals failed me when I needed them most. I was left stranded in the middle of nowhere knowing not where to turn for help when something most men wouldn’t consider a friend came to my rescue……my tear glands. I just said one word – “Dada”- and started crying profusely. The crying proved useful in more ways than one. Mostly it gave me some much needed time to construct my next move (not that I had less preparatory time, I had a whole day, but the thinking you do in the actual moment of despair, when your back’s to the wall, proves invaluably useful as compared to the initially done thinking and planning; especially for a person like me, extremely instinctive that I am.) and it also told my parents that something has occurred which has upset me greatly. My parents were visibly surprised at this sudden unannounced and unexpected burst of emotion. It seemed like all the effort I had put into my acting had paid off and I was already regretting it. Had I not made such a good performance would my parents be aware that something was troubling me and this outburst would not be such a bolt out of the blue for them. But now here was I, crying and they didn’t know what to do. Mama started asking stupid or rather seemingly stupid questions in her attempt to find the reason for my lament; questions like “What happened? Did you fail in your exams?” These questions were stupid because I hadn’t even written my exams then and there was some time to go for them and also because passing in those exams was not a very difficult thing to do. On the other hand Dada just sat there, staring quietly. I finally garnered enough strength and calmed myself and told Dada everything. I had decided earlier in the day that there was no soft way of breaking the news to him so I went straight to the point and told Dada that I was debarred from writing my exams. I continued till I told all that was needed to be said, which was far from saying all what I had planned to say, but was enough; stopping between sentences only to pull in the liquidated snot that threatened to fall off my nostrils. As my talk progressed so did my confidence and I could answer the few questions Dada posed at the end of it to my satisfaction. I could also successfully assert that this was my decision and there was very little chance of turning back (Which decreased to almost no chance after the events of the next day). Dada became visibly upset and was understandably so. Imagine bringing up your son with dreams of seeing him becoming an engineer and he one day comes and tells you that he’s doing arts. Being upset is the least you can expect him to do. If you ask me, who feared the worst, I thought that he took it pretty well. But after it all he was too upset to pray so Mama prayed that day. The moment I lowered my head for the prayer was when I realised how much I had longed for the quiet solitude it brought with it, away at last from those glaring eyes. I cried through the whole prayer taking in only those parts of the prayer that were created by my recent revelation. Tears coupled with snot ran generously through the entire length of my face, chin and throat finally terminating at my T-shirt collar owing to the lowered position of my head. The first thing I did as the prayer concluded was to go to the wash basin to wash my face. It is customary in my house to shake hands with everyone after the family prayer but till I returned from the basin Dada had already retired to the bedroom. I wished everyone else and after standing outside the bedroom for almost a minute finally, owing to a little prodding from Mama, mustered the courage to go to wish Dada. And just when I had thought that I had spent every drop of liquid in me in my tears, there they were again, bringing me to believe that our tear glands, or mine at least, have an unquenchable well as its source of water. If people around the world would learn to cry like me we’d sure have no draughts! As I shook my Dada’s hand my knees grew weak below me and I found myself leaning wholly on the cupboard beside me, slowly sagging down. All I could manage to say was, “Sorry Dada. I fell in the only eyes in which I wanted to be something.” I thought I saw a small tear in Dada’s eyes; it may have just been my imagination, as he picked me up and told me to go and sleep. He always seems to know just the right thing to say at such times (This was not the first time I was impressed by his choice of words in tense situations. It is his choice of a lack of words which impresses me most.) I obeyed him dutifully but not before taking another trip to the wash basin. I knew that Dada wouldn’t sleep that night ( an assumption which was confirmed the next day) and that made me not want to sleep too but I had gone through too much for too long and my mind was too weak to encourage any further thinking which was inevitable if it were to be kept awake any longer and so it chose to shut down after a very long and strenuous day… and I slept…soundly. Thus ended the worst day of my life. The sound sleep rendering and anti-climatic ending to a day which I, after all its happenings, would have predicted would end in anything but that. But this doesn’t bring my narration to an end because the next day brought some much needed respite which forms an important part of the narration.
I had decided to take Dada to Deepak Sir the next day so that he could have a small talk with him and reduce some of his anxiety created on account of my future. I thought he’d do a good job cause he’s a little more experienced in these matters and he’s done it all before. He didn’t disappoint me. But the best thing that happened was something I wouldn’t have predicted…. ever. As I entered Deepak sir’s room I saw that there was another person in the room (other than Ashwini of course). I found myself smiling at Lavina, a distant cousin. Lavina used to previously work at the college library and occasionally (in her own words) came to visit her friends there though this was the first time I had seen her in the whole year (My being debarred for attendance is not so surprising after all). But that’s not the shocking thing. The shocking thing was that after listening to my plans of changing the stream she told that she had done the same too. The best part was when she told that it was something that she would never regret and that she was the happiest person doing what she was today. She also told that she redeemed herself when she topped the college in her final year. I was totally unaware of Lavina’s change of stream but apparently Dada knew all about it. Lavina’s meeting me on that day of all days was anything but a coincidence to me. All I could do was smile at my God who was superbly stamping His authority over the entire thing. After that Lavina left and we had a nice little talk with Deepak sir. I could see that he answered most of Dada’s career related questions to Dada’s satisfaction. Dada’s anxiety was greatly reduced on that day. We left the counselling centre happier and a lot more relaxed. Then on the train journey home was when I spoke to Dada normally after what seemed like an inconceivably long period of time, though it was lesser than a day. He just told me that whatever I do I should do it well and with all my heart; that I had me the ability to excel in whatever I chose to excel in. He just told me to stay true to my ability and to not let it go in vain. I know in his heart he knows I won’t. I know in my heart……………..I won’t.

Ali's birthday....................

Today is Alistair's birthday. We go way back, Ali and me. To give our relation a name, I think we are family friends. But I know that we are a lot more than just that. Ali's dad, Jerry uncle and my dad have been best friends and Ali's mom and my mother have been the best of friends. Naturally we've been together a lot. Ali has been one of the greatest influences of my life. The 8 year difference between us becomes non-existent because of the greatness of the man. I will never understand how he manages to tolerate someone so much smaller than himself.

Today I'm reminded of Ali's last year's birthday party. Annette, Ali's sister (and also one of the best sisters I'll ever have), had arranged for it on their terrace and it was a complete surprise for him. All our friends from church, the whole of YES ,i.e. Youth Experiencing Salvation, our church youth club, was there; well almost all. We had a blast!!! But the best part of the day was something for which I had started preparing the previous day...............

I had my I.I.T (Engineering) entrance exams the previous day. I was extremely under-prepared and was like fish out of water amongst all the nerds. I finished my paper way before the stipulated time but I had to wait in that examination hall till everyone has given their papers. Maybe it was the fact that I was one of the most intellectual places in the country that put into my head the thought of using my time to write a poem, a poem for Ali. So there was born my first poem, at my I.I.T. entrance exam. (There is something about this family that arouses my linguistic talents. Previously I had written a song for Jerry uncle and Vanita aunty’s 25^th wedding jubilee). I finished the poem at my house the next afternoon. Ann was the only person who knew that I was writing a poem for Ali. During the party, in the evening, while everyone was huddled together for a photograph I broke away, took out a piece of paper from my pocket and read this poem to him. I think it was a nice surprise for Ali. The smartest thing I did was after I finished reading, I ran to restore the volume of the music I had reduced before my recital because Ali was getting up to hug me. I would have probably cried if I would have hugged him right after the recital, given my hyper-active tear glands. But in the end no one cried and the day was saved.

Here’s the poem I wrote:

About a man

I’ll talk about a man; you may or may not know,

And thru this small poem, I’ll try about him something to show.

Tall, fair and handsome; with a paunch for a belly.

He’s a huge guy and can easily take down many.

He’s as lazy as a sloth and sleeps like a log,

But when there’s work at hand he’s always ready to slog.

He’s got a beauty of a mind with a slight violent bend,

But that wouldn’t matter much cause he’s got a good heart in the end.

No matter how big he’ll get or no matter how smart;

I know that he will always be a silly kid at heart.

A perfect blend of maturity and madness, is what he’s achieved,

And I hope with the same attitude in life he’ll always proceed.

I’ve known him for some time now, and he’s always been this way.

And by the looks of it I don’t think he’s ever gonna change.

Reminiscing the old times is one of his delights,

It amazes me how he recollects them all with the clarity of daylight.

With qualities of love, humility and wisdom has he been endowed.

All the blessings of heaven God, in His providence, on him has bestowed.

The girl who marries him, Oh! How blessed will she be.

A more blessed girl my eyes will never see.

Indebted to this man, forever I will be

For tolerating me when I was as irritating as can be.

To God I pray to grant all health, wealth, prosperity and fame;

To this man – Alistair Bangera by name.

From U’r lovin bro–

Enoch Soans.

(Written partly during the JEE ’07)

P.S:- It’s been a year now since I wrote my first poem and it’s been a year since I wrote my last. What a shame!!! I guess it’s just lack of quality inspiration.

The greatest decision of my life

This happened a few weeks ago. College was in its last days and the debarred list was gonna be put up is a few days. I was just sitting in the counselling centre talking about the list and the probability of my appearing on it (which, by the way, was pretty high). We were also discussing the appalling state of the Science department of my college and that was when Deepak sir (the college counsellor and also a Christian) just commented that a guy like me should have been doing Arts. Ashwini Joshua (the other third year psychology professor with Deepak) also agreed with him. That was when it struck me as a real possibility. But it was a very hard thought to nurture and digest considering I have always been a science man and most people know that I want to be a scientist (many even call me that). For me, Enoch Soans the Scientist, this was an almost unthinkable thought. So it was an effort just getting it into my thought process. But then eventually I took this seriously and started considering Arts as an academic option. So then I went and spoke to Deepak again and had a little unofficial discussion with him. I then went to Ali’s house one night and spoke to him and Annette about this. Ali told me to do it if I’m convinced about it but he also advised me t go through the Arts text books and syllabus before diving face-first into it. So then I took a first year psychology text book from Deepak and skimmed through it. I liked what I saw. For one, it was a very readable book, and the topics immediately captured my attention. So that did something to influence my decision. But this was all before the debarred list was out and at this time I was in a state of extreme perplexity. I was uncertain about anything and everything I was doing at that time. So then I decided to make a decision to leave the decision making to the greatest decision-maker. I prayed to God to give me a clear sign on what I have to do. I Told him that if I am debarred that I would assume that He wants me to take Arts and if He keeps me out of the debarred list then I’d continue with my Computer Science. (Looking back, I agree it was a pretty biased condition which I had put forth before God but even in my prejudice He managed to put His will through with that famous Almighty highhandedness). The debarred list was put up and I featured in it and that was not the part that shocked me. That thing that stunned me was that I featured in the list for all my three subjects. I had thought that I would be in the list for Stats and maybe maths but Computer Science was out of the question. Joshua was the person who broke the news to me and I was in Ali’s house at that time. He told me that they would be doing a rechecking in the presence of the student and there was a chance of clearing oneself off it. I went to college the next day, stood in that long line for some hours, saw people getting cleared, also saw a few, yes a few, getting debarred, and was pretty assured, judging by the success rate, that I’ll get cleared too. Finally it was my turn to sit on that dreaded redemption seat (a paradox of sorts). And………………………I couldn’t be cleared in any of my three subjects, not even one. If you are debarred in two subjects you can take a KT and go to the next ear but three subjects means you have to repeat the year. Before getting debarred I had spoken to Deepak and had almost decided that I would be taking Arts. I had thought that I would give my F.Y.BSc papers, pass in them and then switch on to Arts so that I could say that I switched on as a choice and not as a compulsion but it seems God had other plans. He made it as clear as possible that I have to take Arts. It seems He took my condition a little too seriously. I had asked for a clear sign and a clearer sign cannot be. The only bad things that came or could or will come out of my not giving my papers is that my pride will be hurt (which, I think, is supposed to be a good thing) and my name and respect will get a little battering (which is OK, kuch pane ke liye kuch khona padta hai) and my parents name will get spoilt too (which is by far, by a whole country mile, the worst of all). So after knowing that I am actually debarred from writing my papers and had a drop the only thoughts in my mind were about my parents and how would I break the news to them and how they would react. Interestingly, I was more afraid to tell Dada that I had decided to take Arts than to tell him that I had been debarred from writing my papers. I went to Deepak and told him that I had been debarred and also that I would bring dada to meet him tomorrow. I was bang in the middle of ‘The worst day of my life’. I decided that I would break the news to my parents in the night, preferable just before we are praying cause that’s when the whole family sits together. That day we also had choir practice so I wanted to tell this after all that is over. So now a very daunting task faced me, I had to go home and face my father and many other people and not reveal to them the trauma that I was going through, at least not for some hours to come. It took every ounce of the strength and grit in me to get through that horrid day. Just to smile had become a gruelling task. I had to make a conscious effort just to keep a straight face. It was a good thing that I met Glenn in church and told him about it all. That was a real help. I also met Alistair and Annette and told them. All this was very strenuous but the most draining thing was the thought of the great act to come, the act of telling Dada. And about that act I will tell you some other time, hopefully soon. I had a super time writing. I’ll try to do this more often now that I have so much time in my hands. For now, I’ll take my leave.

Introduction

Hello!!! I am Enoch Soans and I have no idea what I should be telling you. I guess it will mostly be a chronicle of the roller coaster journey my mind takes as it traverses paths trodden by me in the past or as it contemplates the future (My future!) and also as it stumbles upon great thoughts and ideas and provides simple and logical answers to oft asked questions. In effect, it will be a glimpse into the mind of a genius (I love calling myself that). It may also contain everyday happenings and its effect on my thought-process.