Perspectives. Nazariya.

People often ask me this question, "Do you travel for your job?". 
Immediately my mind spirals into a vortex with scenes running in my head. Of batch-mates' Facebook check-ins in Dubai, New York, London, Amsterdam. Of check-ins in the Heathrows and the JFK Airports. Of fancy pictures on the top of Burj Al Arab, on the Greenwich Line, of snow and snowstorms. Of shopping in Hong Kong. 
And then, like a switch pressed, I suddenly see scenes of Long highways, green fields, thatched huts.
I shake myself out of the reverie, politely smile and say, "Not much travel."

The fact is, I cannot do Facebook check-ins for the Pasiyadongris and Lunawadas and Dedh Gaons. So, yes, I travel quite a lot, and I travel across the country side, over highways, into villages, talk to farmers, see a side of India most young people have no idea of and no, I do not hate it! :D

The thing with travel like this is, you get a new perspective on everything. I know it isn't ideal, but its still intriguing. Let me explain. 

I spend a good portion of my evenings, sitting in front of the TV, cheering anyone who takes on Arnab Goswami. I find these trips amusing because in these sleepy little hamlets, the whole idea that Arnab nurtures, of the nation demanding to know, goes for a major Face Palm. And I love that. Here, noone gives a minuscule, teeny-weeny, molecular, atomic damn to what happens in Delhi. Our PM candidates could well be sitting on his haunches at the next tea-shop, and noone could care two hoots.

Its gleeful. Really!

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Then there are those moments of wacky epiphany. There was this once when we were in some village and I saw a Sitaphal tree. I punched the guy beside me and said, "I LOVE Sitaphal. Just bought a kg for just 80 bucks. And Naturals Sitaphal ice-cream. Too good." Next thing I know, I am served a plate with 6 Sitaphals. I went all embarrassed and remembered those childhood rules. Say No thrice, etc. The guy winked at me and said - 3 Rs kg Madam. Koi load nahi hai. 
I immediately picked up my phone, dialled BigBasket.com's customer care, gave 3 random abuses and hung up.

Rs 3. Rs 80. Unbelievable.

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I especially remember this village we passed once. The Territory Manager pointed towards the village and said, "Madam, guess karo yahan ka main profession kya hai." I decided to let my creative juices flow. Handicrafts? Milk? Painting? Labour? Timepass? He laughed and said, Nai Madam, Chori yahan ka main profession hai.

Uh-ah.

Really? I asked. He explained to me that for centuries, this village has nurtured thieves. If there is a theft or robbery in the nearby cities, the Police lands in the village straightaway. Why go looking elsewhere? 

I can bet no photo-op on Statue of Liberty can get you to a place with such a out-of-this-world credentials. Its straight out of a Shakespeare play.

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And that's not all. One boring afternoon, we were on the highway, driving into nothingness and the TM once again decides to quiz me. 
"Madam, Aapne Sholay dekhi hai?"

Now, I am very careful with such questions. People either love or hate Sholay, Ayn Rand, AAP and Chetan Bhagat. And you don't want to be caught on the wrong side. So, I carefully evaded the question with a hollow smile that said, who hasn't. He returned the smile and said, Remember the dacoit scene? 50 Dakoos surround the village and loot them?"

I felt my sensors going up. Do I sense a check-in opportunity? "Check in at shooting location of Sholay - Totally Worth It!!!".

I waited nervously to see what my great magician TM will come up with now. He laughed and said, "See this village here? Last week 400 dacoits surrounded this village and looted it. Imagine. 70's films come true here, even today."

I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. :D

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Another amazing first for me was the Tea Ceremony. I never drink tea or coffee. When colleagues go for tea-breaks, which is quite often, I tag along and lick a sachet of sugar. I may have risked my chances of diabetes, but given the amount of distraction I gained from work, I think I may have taken a calculated risk. 
Now on such trips, when a farmer offers tea and you refuse, they take it as an insult. After the first 3 times, I was warned by my Dealer that I should find a way around this. At the next farmer's house, when the lady got Chai, I meekly submitted. She thrust a saucer in my hand. (Cups are so passe.)

She poured a sweet gooey liquid and said, "Pehli baar peeu?" I nodded. One glance at her husband, he went galloping across to the patch of farm behind us with a spade and came back waving a tuft of grass in his hand. Then he plucked the farm fresh ginger from the grass, crushed it between his two hands and dropped it into my saucer. 

"Lo Madam. Ek dum Fraash."

I hated the tea. But atleast I know that the one and only time I had tea, I had it with such fan fare and ceremony, prepared by someone who so genuinely wanted me to like it! I can live with that. :D

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And, so go my stories. Till it doesn't become fashionable to do a check-in at Lunwada, I may have to regale my blog with these stories. Meh. Atleast I have fodder for that!

Cheers!
Preeks