Piccolo Posts

Story 1: 11.25 Ki Last Local I came early to catch the train. I also had to get something to eat. Not that I was extremely hungry. I already had a good bread butter toast and corn cheese sandwich in the evening. But I needed someone or something to accompany me, so what if it was just a vada pav or another sandwich stuffed with fresh cut veggies and topped with salt, pepper, oregano and cheese.    I saw the cleaner giving finishing touches to the takeaway counter. Still I proceeded to approach the man at the coupon counter who was busy counting his collections for the day. The man, still counting the notes shook his head with a crooked smile to tell me that I was destined to go alone today. When I got into the train, there was only one guy in the coach with a poker face. I had to recheck the indicator which was shining bright and bold - 11.25 pm - Thane  - Slow - 12 coach - will halt at all stations .   I eagerly waited for vendors to make an e...

Image Source THE LAST DAY It was dark outside. I could see only the dim lights in the makeshift houses lined along the railway tracks. I looked at my phone; the notification light was continuously blinking because the phone battery was down. Cold breeze flew in through the windows as the train ran past the stations. I was not in a hurry; I wished that the train kept running and never stopped. I wished the night would never end, just as I wished that we shouldn’t have broke up. I was going back home after the college farewell. It was the last day in more than a way for me and I was filled with distress and anguish. I wanted to talk to her. Stations passed, people got down and the train stopped too but I did not want to go anywhere. I sat there numb and looked at my phone; the phone that she had gifted me. It was still blinking. It pleaded me to charge; it pleaded me to call her. I finally decided to call her once again.  I pressed the unlock button. “The train will l...

Source: Flickr Chapter One “Didn’t you read the board up there?” the police hawaldaar questioned as he pushed Ankur towards the police van. It was 2 ‘o clock in the morning. Ankur and Venkat were drunk and were moving towards the sea. The shore was slippery so they stopped. Venkat spotted a police van patrolling near the shore. The van was far. ”Throw your bottle away!” Venkat, not in the best of his senses, alerted Ankur as he saw the van stop. Two police hawaldaars came out with torches in their hand. They were shouting something but nothing could be heard due the murmuring breeze on the shore. The two boys decided not to run and started walking towards the policemen. “Let’s go to the police station friends, it’s time for inquiry.” a police hawaldaar held Ankur’s hand and grunted in his ears. “Sir, please leave us. We have done nothing wrong.” Venkat interfered. “It’s written that no one should enter the beach after 11 p.m. Are you i...

A 110% true South Indian right from his name to his french beard and his heavy South-Indian accent. I do not know him personally or professionally but he is so loud and happening in his work-area that each and every person sitting within a circle of radius of about 10m with Mudaliar as the center (The Mudaliar circle), would be knowing him just a little less than personally. Wondering about that weird geometrical example reference that I used? Mudaliar has a knack using such weird references; “Jab gaadi waqt pe platform pe nai aati, tab tum kya karte ho? Rukte ho na? To fir ruko na. Gaadi ayega o horn bajayega. Mai bhi kaam hone ke bad tumhara phone bajayega.”, says Mudaliar when he has not completed his work in time and somebody has been repeatedly following up with him. Mudaiar probably in his forties sits some 2-3 bays apart from me and facing me. I always see him smiling. He will either be smiling at his own work on his laptop or listening to other guys in his team sco...

Almost three years into an IT Software development company, I have realized that an IT guy is very enthusiastic only on a few days in a year. These are the holidays, the typical ‘colour’ days and the traditional days.  On the other days he generally whines about his salary, his boss, his company and finally himself in that order; if not, he probably has ulcers in his mouth. :-D We had traditional day this Diwali at our office. Happiness and memories hit me and the nostalgia took me 15 years back when the celebrations were filled with more enthusiasm and the festive mood would set–in a week or two before the main festival. Chapter 1: The Holidays Our Diwali vacation would be of 21 long days! The Semester exams got over and there would be nothing to study; absolutely nothing. We stayed out most of the time. ‘Missed calls’ were still not invented; we used to shout out the names of our friends who stayed on the higher floors to tell them to join us play. Chapter...

Chapter 1: The driver that wasn’t The name implies that a driver must know how to drive but driving alone doesn’t help, if a driver doesn’t know how to drive to a given location. In our case, the location was Mulshi Dam-near Pune. Our trip to Pune via Mulshi Dam was spoiled when the driver started asking us the directions to Mulshi. Chapter 2: The Chevrolet Tavera that wasn’t Of all the Taveras present in this world, we were the chosen ones to have the black smoke coughing, powerless, pickup-less, Chevrolet Tavera. After somehow reaching Lonavala, when we headed towards Mulshi, we came across a steep hill. We all were excited, but our Tavera had different plans. It didn’t seem to like the steep hill so much, and it gave up. So our trip and the Tavera took a U-turn back to Lonavala. Interval: The License that wasn’t We experienced God in Lonavala. As though we didn’t know that our driver wasn’t driver enough, Almighty God himself sent us a cherub in khaki pants and...

You say it a dozen times and yet do not mind repeating it for the thirteenth time. You shamelessly say some words in English which when deciphered may sound hilariously and ridiculously funny. “Oh Shit!” we say that in English. Try saying the same in your mother tongue and you will realize that you are talking Shit. The F-word follows the same. The usage of the F-word is so f****** common that people don’t give a shit about what the word F*** actually means. If our bosses are assholes they must definitely be speaking shit!  If everything in the world is bullshit, the smell must be awful. Does that mean that we do not think as much in English as we think in our mother tongue? I wonder how words with the same meaning have different decency levels when it comes to the language in which we utter the word. So the next time you enthrone anybody with words like bastard, swine, son of a pig, think twice! - Just kidding, don’t give a shit! If somebody is an asshole he’d...

         महेश बाबुराव भोसले आणि विशाखा गणेश सहस्त्रबुद्धे यांची प्रेम प्रकरणाची सुरुवात झाली मुंबईच्या प्रत्येक आय. टी कंपन्यांच्या बाहेर असणाऱ्या टपर्यावर. या निळ्या ताडपत्राखाली टेबल-खुर्ची असलेल्या रस्त्यावरच्या हॉटेल ला टपरी म्हणता येणार नाही पण तिथे लावलेला बोर्ड “फाय स्टार टपरी” असाच म्हणतो. त्या आय. टी कंपन्याच्या अवती पांडुरंग फडके महाविध्यालय व भवती न्यू-इंग्लिश हाय स्कूल अशी दोन ज्ञानभंडार होती. या कथेला आय. टीची भणक लागले ते फक्त एवढेच.      इयत्ता ‘अकरावी ब’ चा महेश दररोज सकाळी ९ वाजता शाळा सुरु होण्यापूर्वी टपर्यावर चहा आणि बन-मस्का खातो. खाता-खाता टपरीवाला रहीमशी गप्पा मारतो. एक दिवशी बन-मस्का खातांना या कथेची नायिका अर्थात Standard ‘9 th C’ ची विशाखा तिथे आली. तिने एक बन-मस्का मागितला. सगळ्या खुर्च्या भरल्या होत्या म्हणून रहीमने महेशला उठून विशाखाला जागा देण्यासाठी सांगितले पण ज्या क्षणापासून त्या टपर्यावर विशाखा अवतरली, अगदी त्याच क्षणापासून विशाखाच्या महिमेत महेश  दंग  झाला होता. त्याला कशाचाही भान नव्हता....

This boy is petite but perilous. His eyes are red. He has a big belly. He has a lungful of dirty air which smells foul.  Everyone knows this little boy. His name is Alcohol. He belongs to the family of killers. This little boy mesmerizes you, enters your body and makes you behave as he desires. This kid is carefree, emotional, expressive, fun-loving, and obstinate. He is still learning to walk so he makes it difficult even for you to balance yourself on this giant ball called Earth which is rotating at a speed of 1670 kilometers/hour! This boy is moody. Sometimes he likes to go crazy and dance wild and sometimes he just gets emotional over a trivial issue that did not go your way – He will cry and sing songs. He feels that he is the best singer or the best performer in the world. He hates everything and loves anything. He swears the whole world and asks for forgiveness. This little boy also has adult fantasies. Driving is just another game for him. He likes girls...

"ए झिपऱ्या, पाटील बोलावतोय तुला", मावशी ओरडली . माझं नाव सदाशिव सोनोपंत माने. मला सगळे लोक प्रेमाने किवा रागाने ' झिपऱ्या ' असं म्हणतात . मी पण प्रेमाने किवा रागाने 'होऽऽ' असं उत्तरतो. पाटल्याचा नेहमीचा असतं काहीतरी काम - ''दूध आण" - ''कुत्र्याला फिरवून आण" - "हे आण ते आण", नुसता कटकट आहे हा पाटील. मी नाही जाणार आज त्या पाटलाकडे, मारू द्या बोंबा. मावशी परत आली . तिला पाहताच पटकन बोललो, "ए मावश्या, मला नाही जायचं त्याच्याकडे. मी नाही जाणार. या पुढे त्याचं काहीही काम असेल तर मला नको बोलत जाऊ." मग काय? दोन फटके मारून पाठवलाच मला त्या पोपटाकडे. मार खातांना राधा पण होती तिकडेच. मावशी पण येडी आहे. राधा समोर का मारायचं मला? राधा आणि मी शाळेत एकत्र आहोत. नऊवीत. राधा याच वर्षी गावात आली. पुण्यात रहायची आतापर्यंत. मला राधा खूप आवडते. जितका सहजतेने हे मी तुम्हाला सांगितलं, तितकाच कठीण आणि असंभव वाटतं जेव्हा तिला हीच बात बोलायचा प्रयत्न करतो. तिला पहिल्यांदा शाळेत पाहिला तेव्हाच मी ठरवलं की लग्न करेन तर हि...