Indigenousness

I think it has been at least 10 years or even more I guess, since I saw this man (well, a boy at that time) I don’t even remember his name. Well, I met up with this man, who was once my tuition mate and we had interacted quite a lot then. I was amazed that he recognized me because I could have not, I guess. I was eating pani poori at a gaadi near my work place as I had some time to start my work.

Um... he stopped seeing me, though he was on his motorbike. It was a nice meet, it was awkward because I could not remember his name, (in such situations like this is it pretty usual with me). I vaguely remembered his face, but yet again, I managed somehow.

Some time ago, I was talking to one of my friends while having coffee at Adiga’s, (a restaurant) one of my teachers who had taught me in high school was also there. I was glad that I knew (rather remember) him, but to my surprise, he too remembered me and called me out by name. We spoke for around five mins while my friend was busy having coffee and talking on his mobile. I waved bye to my teacher, and my friend asked me who he was. I told him that he was my high school teacher and he was pleasantly surprised that my teachers remembered me (and that too by name) I told him, it is because I have not changed a lot in the way I look, which is fairly true. I would rather like to say, I remain young in my looks, but unfortunately I can’t. Yet, the indigenousness of this place makes it mine, makes it special, and makes me feel where I belong to.

Smirk

Some strange things are always a part of our lives, things which you don’t want to encounter and yet you encounter or you would be forced to be encountered. I come from a true Jayanagar (Bangalore) based Brahmin family, and such families have their own set of clichés or say a standard decorum that a boy (especially a Brahmin boy) has to maintain. The more I tend to run from that frame worked lifestyle, the more I am getting trapped into it. It is not bad; it is just that I don’t want to be a part of it. Well, it goes something like this, English medium education for school, admissions into some reputed colleges in the same area, an engineering degree from one of the most reputed institutions in Jayanagar/Basavanagudi (old Bangalore) and a job in an MNC called Infosys. For parents of young boys, this is the dream path which their kids should follow and how much ever I wanted to deviate from this oath and carve my own way out, things seem to cross this ideal path. Crossing is okay, as it still doesn’t make u following that path, but the time or the period of the crossing is a bit awkward. As mentioned earlier, this is the path ‘Ideal’ according to many parents and my parents are not exception to it either. One such situation was encountered recently by me, my father was speaking to random man on the street where we live and he was asking about our family. My father was proudly telling that I am now working in Infosys and my entire story of where/when/how I got educated. The conversation was being continued and I interrupted to speak to my father and the strange man asked me the same things what my father had spoken with him a minute earlier, as a confirmation I guess. Then it struck to me, that I actually fit it really well into that cliché and all I did was SMIRKED!

Note: I work IN Infosys and not FOR Infosys.