Merry Christmas

Those were the beautiful days of my primary school, when the eve of Christmas was eagerly awaited.

A Christmas tree of dominating height used to stood in the prayer premises decorated with glittering bells and small gifts. The whole school use to prepare for the grand Christmas celebration.
All the classroom were decorated with beautiful charts depicting Christmas weeks before the actual Celebration.
Christmas Carols were put on the Bulletin boards that students could read them.
I remember me as playing Joseph (Christ's father) in one of the skit depicting the birth of Christ (and the trend was followed 4 years later by my brother Vicky).
On 24th December the atmosphere of the school used to feel like a church. Carols were sung, gifts were distributed by the Santa who used to be our 'Collin' ma'am.
The most beautiful thing about all those celebration was that the students, teachers and other staff used to participate with the same zeal and the memories were kept for long.

My bus experience # *2*

I felt the thump on my neighboring seat.
The high capacity DTC ( Delhi Transport Corporation) buses are a bit odd on the roads of Delhi, they do not match their teary-weary reputation.
The thump was a hefty man (25+) clean shaved in a formal attire, who had his own conceptions about things.
He started with the scrutiny of the printed ticket he got. He was excited that the new ticket bear date and time of the journey.
He was happy that the Haryanavi conductor knows all about the automatic ticket vomiting gadget.
He asked questions about its functioning when the conductor was least interested.
He asked a particular word on the ticket when the conductor was frowning.
Then he sat quietly and looked around (curiosity).
Then he noticed me. He asked about a button with a 'p' sign; about which I didn't knew. I had a deja vu that he will push it and he tried to (curiosity) when the conductor intervened that it is an 'emergency button.'
He sat quiet for few moments and then told me that 'Mangol Puri' and 'Mangla Puri' are same, about which I clarified that they are not.
He then asked which of the two destinations comes first on the route of the buses. I told him (Mongol Puri from Rohini) and he was happy.
Then I started looking out of the window.
He was quiet , I wondered where the curiosity is gone , and he was stretching in laziness.
Then someone in the bus asked which stand is to come, he rose in a shock to answer him.Everyone was watching him.
I picked up my bag and boarded off at Madhuban Chowk.

A portrait.

This particular portrait of Bhumika always put me in surprise (though i confess not clicked with a high-end but a 2mpx phone-camera).

Back to roots.

It's a great feeling when you climb up through the beautiful nature to your roots.My village is in the Hills (of Chamoli Garwhal, Uttarakhand). Once you are off the bus an ecstasy surrounds you. It's an hour journey up on foot, tiring but the view around spur a new energy in you.
The sound of the waters of Pindar river follows you from where everything down starts getting dwarfed. the pine trees cover all the hills and mountains and the road appear like a ribbon between them.
On the way you meet people who greet you with a smile, asking you questions, making you feel as you had known them for ages.
The fresh air around; you breathe dissolve within, rejuvenating you.
You see herd of cattle grazing on a distant hill.
If you try from a cliff your sound will echo back to you.
Climbing up you see ladder shaped fields with the seasonal cultivation with a whiff of young shoots.
Then finally my village appears as a stack of few houses with slanting roof tops..

My bus experience # *1*

I was seated in the last row, where I captured a place for myself as soon as I boarded the bus. It was less crowded not as usual. One or two stops later a thin man with a appearance of the 'Kreacher' of the 'Harry Potter' stuff (a bit tall) boarded. He stood before me like a pole, though hanging with his grip due to movement of the bus.He started staring in a weird manner(though still hanging).
He had a power in his eyes, as contrary to his built.(Oh!) He was not looking at me, but at the boy on my left.
'So you have started going to gym', he said and the boy nodded in acceptance. Silence for a few seconds.'Yeah! it is visible from your biceps..hmmm..'. The boy smiled. 'I used to be like you- a few years back, you know tension and all.' Silence for a few more seconds. ' You know I am married', I realized as if the boy sitting was saying,'So what...who cares...Shut up!', smiling and looking at him.
I felt that the man was now talking to me.
He had a certain grip in his eyes which you couldn't ignore. 'Yes Sir! I had well defined triceps', holding his sleeves to the grip of his thin biceps. 'You can see Sir, earlier they were like this', pointing the flat of his biceps. 'Now you know....', I felt sympathy for him.
'Yesterday, uncle told me that he need my help in a dispute...you know.. how I taught them a lesson...', now he was ignoring me and talking to that boy sitting again. I felt 'Shut up, Who cares, etc..', for him.