Before long, the train chugs into the station and slows to a halt. We labouriously manage to pull all five suitcases into it and open the door to the air conditioned compartment… only to find ourselves in pitch darkness. The AC is working alright…it’s just the lights that aren’t. The only light that filters in is the light from the station through the windows.
We somehow stumble to our berths, tripping over a few people in the process and arrange our baggage and ourselves and settle down to sleep. Before long, the ticket conductor comes and wakes us up by pulling on my toe. Groggily I show him our ticket and settle back down to sleep, but somehow, sleep evades me.
I take out my phone and start playing a game of Sky Force. In the darkness of the compartment, the light from the phone seems like a beacon in the night. I realize that my phone battery is almost out so I switch off the phone and peer out the window. I recognize some of the places we pass…East Station… the level crossing that’s been under construction for the past year… the ITC factory….the short cut that I used to take to go to college…ring road….White Field…. After that, there were only fields and no more to be seen outside. I may as well try and get some sleep.
Just as I’m drifting off, I hear a put-put-put sound. Actually, it’s more like a Harley-Davidson engine roaring to life and I wake up with a start. In the darkness, the sound seems to be omnipresent. I slowly pinpoint the source – the man sleeping on the berth opposite mine. His snoring is loud enough to wake the dead….but apparently not the rest of the passengers in close proximity, who seem to be sleeping peacefully.
Living in a hostel dormitory, I’m used to sleeping among people who snore loudly, but this was absurd! It wasn’t even a rhythmic snore which could be soothing under some circumstances. It was more like irregular machine-gun fire that dies down after sometime and starts up again when a target is in sight. In this case, the target must have been me.
I jam the pillow over my ears and turn the other way. It helps to a certain extent but just barely.
A loud BANG right next to me has me almost jumping out of my skin and the compartment begins jerking violently. It’s a wonder that nobody else wakes up to this. The compartment continues jerking and the train begins to slow down. The banging noise next to me continues with each jerk of the compartment.
I mentally picture everything that an AC compartment would have and recognize the noise as the food tray hitting against the wall of the compartment. Just ignore it and you wont notice the sound after some time, I think. But the bloody banging noise combined with the machine-gun snoring was a bit too much and I gave up any hope of sleeping.
I sit up and push the curtain aside to look out the window. We’re approaching a station – Bangarapet. Great, I think. One hour down and five more to go before we reach Chennai. I watch the people milling around on the platform. Even at 1 am, the place is bustling with life.
The train moves on and the banging noise begins again. By this time, I can feel one hell of a headache coming on. Just then, my leg hits against something which I recognize as one of our suitcases. I drag it out from under the berth and jam it up against the food tray. The noise promptly stops. Wish I could do the same thing to machine-gun man opposite me.
I somehow manage to doze off, but my sleep is highly disturbed. It’s just one of things where you’re aware of all your surroundings but you know that you’re asleep. I dream of Harley-Davidson’s and sub-machine guns and war. (To be fair, the dream about the machine guns could have been because of the game Sky Force that I had been playing earlier.) But still, suffice to it say, it was one rotten night.
I wake up a few hours later to loud voices. The machine-gun man had woken up and was having a loud discussion with someone else. I check my watch. It was 5.45 am and nearing daylight. No sense in going back to sleep so I sit up and start checking the names of stations. We’re nearing our station but we’re not too sure which station it comes after so we haul our bags out from under the seats and drag them to the door.
Standing near the open door with the early morning breeze hitting us is refreshing but it still doesn’t make up for lost sleep. My head is still throbbing and I’ve developed a crick in my neck. We stumble out of the train thankfully and head home. Once we reach home, I tumble into bed and sleep the sleep of the dead.
Honestly, I really envy people who can sleep while traveling.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Anti - Social Behaviour
“Excuse me, Sir,” I say, knocking on his door.
“Yes?” he says, arranging a pile of papers and standing up. “I have a class now so make it quick.”
“Good morning, Sir. I’m doing my Ph.D. in Psychology and I was wondering if you could help me out with something.”
“Sure,” he says, looking at his watch and then at the door. He seems like he’s in a hurry so I come straight to the point.
“Since there are not many studies done in the area of my research, I’m developing my own questionnaire and I was wondering if you could take a look at it and give me some feedback as to whether it is a valid and reliable tool for this particular study.”
He stops arranging the papers and looks at me. “Do you know the difference between a psychologist and an ordinary person?”
I shake my head. Was this a riddle?
“A psychologist has the social skills to ask a person how his health is.”
Was this the punch line? Was I supposed to laugh?
“I’ve met you three times before so you don’t have to be so formal with me. You can at least get a little personal with me.”
Huh? Did he mean “personal’ or “informal?” One usually doesn’t get “personal” with the H.O.D of Psychology of the University….let alone your future external examiner.
“Maybe you can take the time out to ask me what I’ve been up to or how I’ve been doing. You’re a very intelligent girl, but you lack the social skills that psychologists generally have.”
Do I dare mention that he’d been in too much of a hurry for me to get “personal” with him? Come to think of it, I don’t think I would have asked him about his health or what he’d been up to even if he hadn’t been in such a hurry. Oh well. How anti-social of me.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Shireen, may I see you for a moment?”
Oh no, it was HER again. “HER” being the human blimp who is the senior-most Psychology lecturer in my college. In fact, she is so senior that she’s never ever been the H.O.D. or anything more than well, the senior-most. A fact that has been a sore point with her for the past thirty-odd years and has, to all appearances, caused her to have a mighty big inferiority complex. Well, actually it’s caused her to have a might big REVERSE – inferiority complex…. Considering the fact that she covers it up pretty well with her over-inflated ego.
Here’s an example. She comes to college in a chauffeur-driven car. Not a big deal by some standards, except the poor chauffeur not only has to wear a full uniform complete with hat and full sleeved suit in the Chennai heat, he also has to carry up Her Highness’ handbag from the car to the second floor staffroom – all this while Her Royal Highness ambles slowly to the teacher’s lounge, reads a newspaper and misses her first hour class EVERY DAY.
Another example would be her picking fights with everybody who crosses her path, including teachers. It’s not the fights themselves, because nobody would dare argue back with the senior-most lecturer, but the subject of the fights. She once called a teacher and yelled at her for an hour because she hadn’t told Her Royal Highness that she was pregnant. She then rang up the same teacher nine months later and yelled at her for another hour for not informing her that she had had a baby girl.
Like I said, her fights were not limited to just teachers, but extended to students as well. Some of my juniors were told off for not saying goodbye to her when they went home for the holidays. Another student was given a two hour lecture for not inviting her for her wedding. Another one was yelled at for talking to another teacher in Her Royal Highness’ presence.
Inferiority complex at its best.
Unfortunately, today wasn’t my day. I had been chatting with two MPhil research scholars when I got the summons.
“Shireen, may I see you for a moment?”
Rolling my eyes at the MPhils, I climb the steps to where she was standing. Being all of 150 kgs, she had managed to climb up to the first floor landing before she ran out of breath. Unfortunately, I had happened to be sitting right there when she was taking a breather.
“You know,” she slowly continues in her fake British-Mallu accent, “Two years ago, when you were sitting in the H.O.D’s office, I happened to pop in for a moment and you wished me…but you didn’t stand when you wished me.”
I look at her incredulously. I don’t even remember what I did (or didn’t do) last week, let alone two years ago.
“This kind of anti-social behaviour is not acceptable in a psychologist, especially a senior.”
Wow. Being called anti-social twice in two days by two different gas bags was quite something.
“This is not acceptable,” she repeats, shaking her head, all three chins wagging. She takes a step up, pausing to continue. “The last time you met me, you were inviting me for your wedding so I didn’t say anything, but you must have noticed how I’ve been ignoring you for the past two years.”
You were??? Can we try that again for the next two years?
“Every time you wished me, I’ve ignored you. You know why? It’s because you didn’t stand up and wish me two years ago.”
You were ignoring me? I don’t seem to remember you ignoring me the last time you bit my head off. Let’s see, that was about a year ago when my previous course ended. You said that I was a bad Christian and an even worse psychologist for not saying goodbye to you. I personally don’t see what our profession, religion and farewells have to do with each other, but there you go. Inferiority complex and low self esteem logic.
She continues yammering on about ill-mannered students etc but I had already tuned out. If she wants to feed her ego off students and other teachers, she could go right ahead. By that time, she had reached the second floor and was continuing on to the staff room without realizing that I wasn’t behind her.
I think I should take my guide’s advice. Just keep nodding at all the shit that’s being dished out and one day, when I’m out of college and people like these don’t have any more jurisdiction over my certificates or marks, do something that’s never been done before – tell them off.
So much for anti-social behaviour.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Yes?” he says, arranging a pile of papers and standing up. “I have a class now so make it quick.”
“Good morning, Sir. I’m doing my Ph.D. in Psychology and I was wondering if you could help me out with something.”
“Sure,” he says, looking at his watch and then at the door. He seems like he’s in a hurry so I come straight to the point.
“Since there are not many studies done in the area of my research, I’m developing my own questionnaire and I was wondering if you could take a look at it and give me some feedback as to whether it is a valid and reliable tool for this particular study.”
He stops arranging the papers and looks at me. “Do you know the difference between a psychologist and an ordinary person?”
I shake my head. Was this a riddle?
“A psychologist has the social skills to ask a person how his health is.”
Was this the punch line? Was I supposed to laugh?
“I’ve met you three times before so you don’t have to be so formal with me. You can at least get a little personal with me.”
Huh? Did he mean “personal’ or “informal?” One usually doesn’t get “personal” with the H.O.D of Psychology of the University….let alone your future external examiner.
“Maybe you can take the time out to ask me what I’ve been up to or how I’ve been doing. You’re a very intelligent girl, but you lack the social skills that psychologists generally have.”
Do I dare mention that he’d been in too much of a hurry for me to get “personal” with him? Come to think of it, I don’t think I would have asked him about his health or what he’d been up to even if he hadn’t been in such a hurry. Oh well. How anti-social of me.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Shireen, may I see you for a moment?”
Oh no, it was HER again. “HER” being the human blimp who is the senior-most Psychology lecturer in my college. In fact, she is so senior that she’s never ever been the H.O.D. or anything more than well, the senior-most. A fact that has been a sore point with her for the past thirty-odd years and has, to all appearances, caused her to have a mighty big inferiority complex. Well, actually it’s caused her to have a might big REVERSE – inferiority complex…. Considering the fact that she covers it up pretty well with her over-inflated ego.
Here’s an example. She comes to college in a chauffeur-driven car. Not a big deal by some standards, except the poor chauffeur not only has to wear a full uniform complete with hat and full sleeved suit in the Chennai heat, he also has to carry up Her Highness’ handbag from the car to the second floor staffroom – all this while Her Royal Highness ambles slowly to the teacher’s lounge, reads a newspaper and misses her first hour class EVERY DAY.
Another example would be her picking fights with everybody who crosses her path, including teachers. It’s not the fights themselves, because nobody would dare argue back with the senior-most lecturer, but the subject of the fights. She once called a teacher and yelled at her for an hour because she hadn’t told Her Royal Highness that she was pregnant. She then rang up the same teacher nine months later and yelled at her for another hour for not informing her that she had had a baby girl.
Like I said, her fights were not limited to just teachers, but extended to students as well. Some of my juniors were told off for not saying goodbye to her when they went home for the holidays. Another student was given a two hour lecture for not inviting her for her wedding. Another one was yelled at for talking to another teacher in Her Royal Highness’ presence.
Inferiority complex at its best.
Unfortunately, today wasn’t my day. I had been chatting with two MPhil research scholars when I got the summons.
“Shireen, may I see you for a moment?”
Rolling my eyes at the MPhils, I climb the steps to where she was standing. Being all of 150 kgs, she had managed to climb up to the first floor landing before she ran out of breath. Unfortunately, I had happened to be sitting right there when she was taking a breather.
“You know,” she slowly continues in her fake British-Mallu accent, “Two years ago, when you were sitting in the H.O.D’s office, I happened to pop in for a moment and you wished me…but you didn’t stand when you wished me.”
I look at her incredulously. I don’t even remember what I did (or didn’t do) last week, let alone two years ago.
“This kind of anti-social behaviour is not acceptable in a psychologist, especially a senior.”
Wow. Being called anti-social twice in two days by two different gas bags was quite something.
“This is not acceptable,” she repeats, shaking her head, all three chins wagging. She takes a step up, pausing to continue. “The last time you met me, you were inviting me for your wedding so I didn’t say anything, but you must have noticed how I’ve been ignoring you for the past two years.”
You were??? Can we try that again for the next two years?
“Every time you wished me, I’ve ignored you. You know why? It’s because you didn’t stand up and wish me two years ago.”
You were ignoring me? I don’t seem to remember you ignoring me the last time you bit my head off. Let’s see, that was about a year ago when my previous course ended. You said that I was a bad Christian and an even worse psychologist for not saying goodbye to you. I personally don’t see what our profession, religion and farewells have to do with each other, but there you go. Inferiority complex and low self esteem logic.
She continues yammering on about ill-mannered students etc but I had already tuned out. If she wants to feed her ego off students and other teachers, she could go right ahead. By that time, she had reached the second floor and was continuing on to the staff room without realizing that I wasn’t behind her.
I think I should take my guide’s advice. Just keep nodding at all the shit that’s being dished out and one day, when I’m out of college and people like these don’t have any more jurisdiction over my certificates or marks, do something that’s never been done before – tell them off.
So much for anti-social behaviour.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
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