The Kabaadi Wallah

Kabaadi wallah
cycling priceless repertoire
Aladdin’s chirag?

Afterthought

I love the scrap dealers or Kabaadi wallahs doing rounds of our colony. Their shouts reverberate and the house wives come out with old newspapers and other plastic and iron stuff. Many kabaadi wallahs exchange old clothes with tea cups and utensils.
I have faint memories of mum bargaining with the kabaadi walli aunties who used to take our old clothes and give us tea cup (rather substandard in terms of quality but with cool prints on them).

Thank you J for the collaboration. J and I are also working on a project and we will share the details very soon. Stick around.

Much Love,

Tarun Mazumdar

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Streets of Karol Bagh

Streets of Karol Bagh
humming like band in concert
blingy aunties walk

This afternoon a friend of mine and I decided to play the Haiku Game. It turned out to be one fun activity.
The haiku collaboration will feature J and me in the future as well. Stick around.
Ah! I do not have a picture of the Karol Bagh Street. Damn. I promise I will click some photographs soon and upload with candid haiku.

Diary of a Haiku Traveler – Fourth Entry

Sixth Month, Twenty-Ninth Day

Temperature- 42 Degree Celsius. Extremely humid.

Location: Bhatinda, Punjab, India

Clouds and rain seems to have deserted Bhatinda as temperature soared with each passing day. I saw my dad in pain today. He has been unable to eat due to the extremely hot conditions here in Bhatinda. The frequent power cuts worsened the conditions. He is 56 years old and I know how difficult it is for him to live in such extreme conditions. I hate the government’s policy of transfers. They would have been a little considerate and taken the age factor into consideration.

I saw my father changing sides as he tried to sleep. How painful is this! I want to earn loads and loads of money so that my father can retire early and live with us. I must study and master my Japanese language skills. Moreover, I must improve my writing. My desire to become a better son is driving me to do new things. I must struggle hard, come what may.

I composed this while I was helping dad take a nap in the afternoon.

My hand fans swiftly
fails to match the ceiling fan
father takes a nap

I will do anything for you. Yes, anything.

But I won’t pull down my pants for you, of course. Read on and find out.

Diary of Haiku Traveler – Third Entry

Sixth Month, Twenty-sixth day

Clear sky. The land of Bhatinda burns

My third day in the cantonment zone with horrible internet reception but I love the change in terms of language, food, clothes, people, vocal patterns and more. As much as I love haiku, I love my readers too who come and read my compositions. This post is dedicated to all my beloved readers. A mighty hug for you. There you go…

Moving on, haiku of the day.

Road like molten bed
I sit on it and compose
And jump- ouch! the bum

Haiku on the road

Haiku on the road

On the Road

On the Road

 

If you are planning to visit Bhatinda or the neighboring cities in the summer months make sure you carry cotton clothes. The place is very humid so consume liquid; you can try sweet lassi or the salted one, Punjab is famous for lassi and you must try this beverage, it will leave refreshed.

I left the shopping complex no. 4 with 5 packets of lassi. Yum. Yum. My upcoming posts will be about the shopping complex no. 4 in the Bhatinda Cantonment Zone. Come back.

Little T and The Ultimate Game of Chor-Police

Early winter night
boys come together with change
a box of crackers

Fireworks remind me of my childhood days when my brother Mr. A Junior, my buddies – V, A, J, S, Miss S and I (Little T) used to assemble on the terrace of our building with whatever money we could save up. Then we used to debate on which are best crackers that we can buy with the money we have. Ah… those days when we used to buy Bijli bombs for Rs. 10 a packet (1 packet has 100 or more sticks).

Oh we also had those Chinese cracker pistols (state-of-the-art and lethal in every sense). My favorite was the fake shotgun. We, anxiously, waited for Diwali month to come so that we can play Chor-Police (Thief and Police), a game played since time without beginning, with all the fireworks and Chinese cracker guns.

My buddies and I used to come up with amazing plots to make the game interesting and edgy like fake kidnappings, bank robbery, nuke attacks, floppy stealing acts and more.

The game is fairly simple and straight forward. If you want to play Chor-Police and wondering how to go about it, read on.

Chor-Police ‘The Ultimate Outdoor Sport’

This sport requires mental as well as physical strength, and you need a solid fucking plot with massive fireworks.

Number of players: Minimum 10 and the more the better it gets. Divide the members in equal parts (no, don’t slice them into two). One half are the ‘Bad Guys’ and the remaining ‘Good Guys’.

Items Required
1. Bijli Bomb packet – 2-4

2. Chinese Cracker Pistols – One for each member of the gang and the Police force

3. Cracker rolls for Chinese Pistols – Two rolls for each member
4. Laxmi Bomb: A packet of 6 for each member. Laxmi Bomb is the fake dynamite stick, they are powerful so use your wisdom when you use it

5. Sutli Bomb (Wool Bomb): A pack of 5 only for the team leader. These are Nukes, these are supremely powerful and destructive. Use it to blow the headquarter of the opponent. \m/

6. Plot or Storyline: A solid storyline that can be the next Bollywood smasher is what you need. No items numbers (we are still kids, remember!). Good guys beat bad guys sells like hot cakes.

Procedure
Load up your Chinese cracker pistols with pistol rolls. Aim. Fire. Do not throw the crackers on your friends or opponents because you don’t want their moms to smack your butt off.
Now, go on and play Chor-Police. Dishkaoooo. Dishkaooo. Don’t forget to improvise.

Disclaimer: Only buy crackers that are manufactured by adults and not by children. Also, be careful with the crackers. Don’t blow your face or hands up.

Diary of a Haiku Traveler – Second Entry

Sixth Month, Twenty-fifth day

Clear sky and hot day. Temperature: 43 degree Celsius

Location: Bhatinda, Punjab, India

Temple under the Peepal Tree

Giant Peepal tree
a temple with devotees
prayer on their lips

As I go out for a walk, I see this gigantic peepal tree with a temple under it. People from the nearby colonies gather here and sing bhajans. I stand there and look at them; certain calm prevails around the place as the evening air is filled with rhythmic dholak patterns and chants. I stand there but my mind is elsewhere, it is thinking about Uttarakhand.

The cloud bursts in Uttarakhand have taken away thousands of lives. Thousands still stranded around the holy land of Badrinath and Kedarnath. I wonder what is so holy about it. We have fucked with nature time and again and we witness the Rudra (angry) form of Ganges. Why like dumb asses we gather at places like Kedarnath and Badrinath? I can understand the religious sentiments but why in thousands we gather and fuck with nature.

The places in the mountains are not meant for so many people, we knew this fact and this is what we did. We cut trees. We make roads. We make hotels luxurious ones and not so luxurious ones. We make space. We play with the course of the rivers coming from Yamunotri and Gangotri, I am sure we have done this. Now look what happened… The temple, oh wait it still stands, a chamatkar (miracle), I don’t know and I don’t fucking care. I salute the efforts of our armed forces who are working tirelessly, amidst horrendous weather conditions to bring the survivors back home.

God lives in our hearts, he or she lives in the temple next door (oh we have temples everywhere), then what is so bloody special there that compels us to take our little kids on those difficult treks.

I have stopped watching television shows for they show the agony and pain (no wait, they also say that they are the first ones to show the tears in that widow’s eyes). Brilliant.

Giant Peepal tree
I look at the shivling*
Kedarnath’s different?

*Shivling is the symbol of Lord Shiva.

Temple and devotees and prayers

Diary of a Haiku Traveler – First Entry

Sixth month, twenty-fourth day, Bhatinda, Punjab, India

Clear sky, hot and humid. Temperature- 42 degrees Celsius

Summer afternoon
boys sit under the tree
and eat home cooked food

Boys Lunching in Bhatinda

 

The young boys sit under the tree and enjoy lunch prepared by their mums and in some cases by the dads. Oh what a sight it is to see them relish chapattis and sabzi (cooked vegetable with Indian spices), and talk about one-sided love affairs, cricket matches, and my smart phone. I go on and ask them that why are they sitting on the road and lunching.

“It is breezy here”, a boy replies in Punjabi.
“And we are bored of sitting in the class; lunch break is so much fun here.”
“Certainly”

Today, I miss my school days and more than that I miss my mum, home cooked food (though my dad is a terrific cook as well) and younger brother Mr. A Junior. My daddy is an art teacher in a government school and I live with him here in Bhatinda, a small city in Punjab. This is the second day, since we shifted from New Delhi after his transfer.

The best part of being a freelance writer is that I can travel as much as I want provided the place has electricity and internet connection.

Punjab is going to be a great experience for me as a traveler and a haikuist. With farms, birds, trees, generous Punjabi folks, lassi (sweet milk based drink), Punjabi food, landscapes, temples, Gurudwaras and I can go on and on and on; I am sure the land will inspire the haiku heart that beats in my chest.

But, here comes a twist, I live in the Army cantonment zone which is like a fortress and it is a massive pain in the ass to leave the zone and explore the city. I hope I will get an ID card like dad and will be able to move out and travel freely.
Till then, I will write about the campus, food, my neighbors, birds and more. Stick around for the next entry.

The boys share the lunch
As I gobble up sabzi
School bell rings!

Have a haiku day!