The bush was thick and dense. And he was hidden well behind it. "No. They're not gonna find me here", he said to himself, half believing what he said... He breathed a sigh of relief and took a rare moment of rest. It was risky, but he chanced it; he dropped his guard. It felt like old times.Oh, how he missed the old carefree days, never having to worry about them dropping on him. No. No more of that shall he have. He was now the hunted; the prey. He had seen the hunts before. Friends... family... all who had fallen long ago... and yet, like a fool, he believed his own time was far far away... a mirage so far off that...

Wait! What was that??

Someone calling his name. Another trap. No. It can't end now. It was time to move. Quickly. Quietly. He would evade them yet.

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Man goes through several stages in life, from doodying a diaper to flunking chemistry to half drowning in beer in an office night, he goes through a variety of transitions.

(continue reading)

The meek may inherit the earth, but the roads shall still belong to the auto driver.

For those of you who are fortunate enough to not know what it is, an auto, a.k.a. an autorickshaw, or more lovably, a 'rick', is a three-wheeled taxi you find all around India, unless of course, you are in desperate need of one, in which case you'd have better luck finding ice cream in an active furnace.

It generally has a yellow tarpaulin hood on top and an unpleasant hood up front in the driver's seat. In a society where daylight robbery is categorically banned by law, these citizens try, more or less successfully, to fill the void.

Ricks are a boon to society... in theory... because (continue reading)

Labels: auto, bangalore, rick

The engine roars, the heart pumps and the tyres screech, throwing mud and gravel smack into the face of anyone dumb enough to put his face right behind the wheels of the Ford Fiesta, doing 140 km/h on the highway. The red Mahindra Scorpio is about five kilometers in front, racing at an incredible speed, thinking that it has finally seen the last of the Fiesta. After all, it is but a speck in traffic, and there are already a dozen cars and trucks between them.

But as far as the Fiesta was concerned, the cars and trucks between them were merely parked on the highway; momentary obstacles to whizz past. Inevitably, the inevitable happens. The Fiesta cuts ahead, leaving the Scorpio baffled, troubled, and lost in traffic.

No. This isn't a snippet from a new Hollywood release. This is a personal episode from my life I like to call "The Fast and the Curious". Maybe it would be better if I started at the beginning. This November, I had got an uncharacteristically long vacation from work, and I had intended to spend it exclusively getting tanned by TV rays. However, (continue reading)

People come to me incessantly, asking about my purpose in life… And if you think it is OK for people to come to you incessantly for something, you obviously have never had people come to you incessantly. And when they start grilling you on the purpose of your life, their primal motive is to make you feel about as useful as a chewed wad of bubble gum. More often than not, they put these queries in more colorful tones, such as;



“Hamish, what IS your purpose in life, besides wasting oxygen that I could have used?”
“Hamish, are you planning your life properly, or are you going to drift through it like an F1 racecar without a steering wheel?”
“Is there a goal you’ve set for yourself, Hamish, or do you feel watching movies while spewing half chewed popcorn out the side of the mouth is good enough for you?”

Hearing all these tactful, sensitive, and thought-provoking voices of (continue reading)