These are the days that must happen to you

I work currently in Electronics City. My cab leaves at 8 in the morning. Promptly as soon as the window is opened I plug in earphones and turn oblivious to the cacophony of Radio One RJs(when one hears their Kannada influenced English and Hindi one automatically tends to switch off if not for reactions like condemning them for life to boiling oil vats, cleaning lavatories/pigeon poop outside window sills and other violently belittling things) , their repetitive Bollywood numbers (mostly rehashed words which talk about love, heart break/ache, and other emotions interspersed with the latest techno beats and scratches)and small talk about what was the undoing of a participant in a particular reality show where they challenge you against a psychophysiological detector of deception. One hour, the ears remain plugged; a book poised in front of the eyes, fingers occupied every few minutes to flick the pages. While Fugazi (currently) kicks into a blitzkrieg of fuzzy guitaring and berserk drumming I open my book to 'To be born again,' sang Gibreel Farishta tumbling from the heavens, 'first you have to die. Ho ji! Ho ji! To land upon the bosomy earth, first one needs to fly. Tat-taa! Taka-thun! How to ever smile again, if first you won't cry? How to win the darling's love, mister without a sigh? Baba, if you want to get born again...'(again currently). Apart from occasionally staring out of the windscreen of the Tempo Traveller to make sure no one is hurt when the vehicle lurches to a halt at signals, I dont move or utter much.

Duties complete at office it is time for a repeat show of the mornings actions in the 12 seater vehicle. The book is shut at just about the time we near the Koramangala National Games Village complex, daylight fails from this point onward. Attention shifted to hoardings and the backs of autorickshaws spouting gems of messages like "I date only models", this from a god-fearing,khufi wearing,devout, khol eyed driver. Also contemplate on the posible brand equity Jim Beam could generate out of sponsoring the Horanadu Bar and Restaurant at the Ejipura junction. Think its highly unlikely that the Horanadu's patrons'preferred poison would be a Kentucky Bourbon.

And so on and so forth 10 months have passed travelling up and down from the E-City. The routine is as numb as people who file within the campuses in E-City, tags around their necks summarising their personalities.

Today however has been rather different. At about 12:50 PM we decided to drive to Bangalore (as soon as I exit E-City there is a road sign welcoming one to the city of Bangalore and the distance to be traversed), Koramangala specifically. We lunched at The Jukebox. Unhurried, music from the 70's in the background, pretty ladies strutting outside the window, general buzz of conversation and peals of laughter from slightly beery drunk office goers, long forgotten LPs and sleeves hanging on fading walls, Elvis and James Dean staring down at your table, the sweet smell and smoke of a grill, a portion of garlic toast and perfect mayo to spread it on and a huge platter of smoky beef, ham, sausages, chicken, fries and rice staring up at you. These are the days that must happen to you.

Book of Jobs

I seem to choose careers based on what books I read. The current night burner is Run Like an Antelope by Sean Gibbon who follows Phish on a full tour covering the highs and lows(mostly highs) of the people who follow the enigmatic band. Suddenly I feel I could do that. Not, lying in bed thinking the alarm will go off at 7AM, followed by a hurried rush through the usual necessities to get ready for another day in front of a Lenovo T60 (why such a machine, no one knows, at least no one in the purchase department), wade through traffic which inevitably leaves you snarling at the work spot, positively baying for someones blood. Not that I can draw anyone's, infact its mine which is drained, I fall in quite near the bottom of the organisational structure. Anyway branching off...back to topic which is how books influence my career paths or at least mentally.

The previous one I was leafing through was Dan Walsh's These are the Days That Must Happen to You where he sets off across the Sahara and the rest of Africa and for the second leg on the Pan Americana from somewhere in Canada through the US of A and the unmotorable Darien Gap on ferry till the south of Argentina. As he with his rock-star attitude and all clicks gears through the black tar top I too feel a need to hit the road, thunder on my Machismo. I wouldnt mind. Only the road is open, but not free. Weekend trips can be sponsored by the paycheck, but who would fund a year or more on the road?

The visible connection I found between both books are that they both are about drifting on the road. One on two and the other on four wheels. I would prefer the two wheeled option, because as Dan states "A car is like watching a movie, a bike however is when you are the hero."

Now the only thing to do is to get these ideas in motion. But I dont have the confidence to let go off the comfort of a home, a 9-6 (most times more) job, the easy relaxed life of staying home. It looks good as an idea, idyllic riding around the world, writing about it, getting paid for it, but the wrath of the parents kind of scare me. Some more thought and planning has to be put into this though. It could be the ideal world I want to live in. On and off the road...drifting.