Hyderabad Blues - Part 2

Hyderabad Blues - Part 2

Note: Read the Part-1 below first. If you haven't read the part-1 (scroll down) you may have problems getting what I am saying in this post.

Saturday

The Saturday started off in a rather boring tone. I was watching TV until late afternoon. I gave up, after a million tries, to wake Kicha up. However he woke up before it was too late and we hit a pub for lunch. We met Avik and his friends there. The boys ordered some strange smelling food. Oh the pub�s called Ten Downing Street by the way. I wasn�t in a mood to eat so I settled for some beer. And Avik passed on the gift that Madhu had bought for Kicha and me. I still don�t know why she didn�t give it herself; maybe she is shy on Saturdays? Anyway, we finished the pub session and went to Avik�s roof-top abode. Tucked away in some non-descript location of the city, this place is home to a great band-in-the-making. Chirag � Avik�s roomie is a guitarist; he is smooth, he is cool and he is super.

Jam

The rooftop abode is on top of an apartment complex. Chirag�s room�s balcony opens out to a super view of the Begumpet Airport�s runway. The main entrance of the house opens out to the whole of Hyderabad. Kicha and another friend went off to shop for guitars. Avik went away to see some friend off. So after having some fuel to revitalize our senses and spirits Chirag asked me if I wanted to jam. I almost blushed in embarrassment and said �I am not trained in guitars but I can pluck some chords that�s all�� He said �Don�t worry about that, just play what you like and I�ll play along.� It was the first time that I had jammed with someone on an electric guitar. As the notes started flowing in, I couldn�t help but admire Chirag�s music sense. I was playing some straight forward vanilla 4 on 4 chords and he was playing some terrific riffs for that! I swore to myself that I am going to learn guitars (I have been swearing for the past ten years but�).

The Diwali Skies Come Alive

The skies were merry with diwali crackers. I stood there on the terrace mesmerized by the stunning display on show on the skies. Crackers that go up and paint the sky with twinkling stars; those that paint the skies with jubilant flowers, it was havoc all right. I stopped bursting crackers when I was sixteen. It was not like I used to burst a lot before that; my dad � a middle class government servant- couldn�t and wouldn�t spend money on crackers only to see them blow up in smoke within a few minutes. I could identify with that. So I used to go watch there rich people bursting crackers; they�d spend a fortune to ensure that they are the most spectacular and loud. I am sure your street (if you are in India) has a house that�s the cynosure of all eyes on diwali night. Suren, my kid bro, used to come up with amazing innovations to strike a balance between paucity of funds and the obsessive desire to burst crackers; he somehow got himself a sling � I think it was when I was in 1987. The �sling� is an improvised device that consists of a thick iron nail and a container with a thick base (like those long glasses that fill up only halfway?) these two parts are connected (at their respective butts) by a rope.
You find a cracker that didn�t explode and you extract the Sulphur (or whichever explosive chemical is used). Put the Sulphur in the container, stick the nail into the container, and swing the whole thing �the nail locked into the container- using the rope and hit a solid (any solid) surface� and bang! So Suren kept roaming all day, in the neighborhood looking for crackers that never cracked or flowerpots that never bloomed, and banging his improvised explosive device against everyone�s walls; the �bang� was almost always followed by someone screaming �saythaan! (Devil!) I�ll break your legs� or something on similar lines. I tried the device a few times and I tell you what: nothing satisfies a man more than a loud bang. Looking back, my philosophical side found a metaphor in it; the nail and the container all locked to create a bang� Wow! That�s a thought or what!

Dancing in the dark

At about 23:00 hours we hit the club �Where Else�. I have no words to describe the beautiful women that came into Where Else. Hyderabad girls rule. After a couple of beers I resigned to a quiet corner, settling to my all time fav activity: watching people. There were people of all kinds: the arrogant-rich-drunk-dumb male trying to attract the attention of a beautiful girl with a technique that�d make dogs in heat seem sophisticated; then you have the first timers: the girl and the guy going on a late night date for the first time that is; you have single (or dateless) girls dancing all alone; middle aged men trying to escape into the past � in vain.
Somewhere in between this beautiful girl told me �your girl friend is lucky.� I was amused and shocked; since when did I start looking so hep and handsome? She said �Unlike other men you are just sitting there, all silent, not even drinking too much�� I just smiled and let that go. I mean, I wasn�t drinking because I had no money. I was sitting there silent because I had no goddamn choice. Anyway thanks beautiful! And hey long distance works girl. Keep the faith.
Somewhere in between Madhu � Kicha the greatest�s � friend pulled me into the dance floor. I had warned her but she never listened. So I let out my wonderful Tappankuthu repertoire and within a few minutes I was in full flourish; scaring people away with my �death dance (they do this dance during a funeral procession back in Chennai)�. I wasn�t surprised when I found after a few minutes that there was no one within my 5m radius. I stopped and reverted to my beer sipping (someone had left it on my table mostly Avik I guess� even if it wasn�t him who cares).
The night went away like a new girl friend on a first date; you never even settled down and she gets up to say bye.
Kicha and I dropped Madhu, Avik and his friend, and we had �chai�. Hyderabad�s chai leaves you licking the tea cup for more. Its lingering, pungent and sweet taste makes it probably the best tea in southern India. We reached home and settled down on the balcony for a chat. After a few smokes, I couldn�t handle it� I just crashed. Stoned and out!

Write to me: suman 'at' sumankumar 'dot' com

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