And then it all went dark...

It seems like yesterday, my hands traced the line of cracked paint along the walls of the corridor to the ICCU (Intensive Critical Care Unit) in Vijaya Hospital, Vadapalani. My uncle walked along side me, dread filled every step of mine as we walked towards my uncle (elder than the one walking beside me). We reached a hall and a nurse looked up from her files with a questioning glance, I walked towards her. The pungent smell of disinfectant filled my nose as the dim lighting overhead seemed to fill every shadow with a ghastly pallor. My throat was parched and my extremes where numb with the cold air and a sense of foreboding which threatened to fill me.

I asked her for my uncle, "Where is patient by the name Shanmugarajan?".

"Second patient from the right just after entering the ICCU" she said.

I looked at my Uncle who gestured to me to follow him. I felt my stomach lurch as though it refused to follow me into the ICCU, I felt kiddish right then and looked to my uncle for guidance. He had followed the nurses instruction quicker, his stomach seemed fine alright. I stepped into the room, to my right was a patient hooked to a number of instruments as test tubes weaved from every orifice in his sickened body. I tore my gaze from him to turn towards my uncle, my uncle for 21 years, now reduced to a shadow of himself for the next few hours as he struggled against death. And at that very instant I knew this moment would be etched into my brain forever.

My uncle for 21 years, who had been a loving person, who had always stood by my father's side, who had clipped my nails when I was a kid, who had always wished the best for me was now lying on a gurney, wearing a blue gown, struggling against the Velcro strips that bound him to his hellish torture chamber. Tubes and injections entered and exited him and the life support systems that where prolonging his agony hung from his chest in support A pillar of strength from the day my memory account was initiated, now a dilapidated ruin broken down by disease. His conscience laced with the drugs tried to break free from its bodily confines, torn between the struggle to regain lost ground in its battle against death. As I gazed down upon him, I realized the monumental struggle taking place in front of me. His very being seemed to revolt against his body and my uncle was the battle ground ravaged by conflict, stricken wounded soldiers, rivers of blood flowing towards the ocean where they would be consumed by her gaping mouth.

Beside me my uncle gagged, stifled a sob and then broke down.

"Shanmugam!! Look at me!! Shanmugam!!" he cried.

To my amazement, I noticed a flicker of recognition flow across my uncle's shriveled face. The doctor's had told us he was on heavy medication and was in a drug induced coma so I could not understand what was happening. How could he possibly react? My uncle had always been a fighter, even after almost loosing his eyesight for the last 5 years of his troubled life, he had never given up. I could almost sense his conscience try to break free from his drug laced body, trying to call out for help. Or was it that he had finally accepted defeat and had decided to throw the towel in?

My uncle wonder struck rushed towards him to hug him upon noticing the reaction. I had to restrain him because my uncle was just a mass of flesh and bones below a seemingly endless web of test tubes and medical equipments. I was worried that even a single string of silk disturbed from that endless web would send my uncle hurtling to the deep. I shed a tear unable to take it in. I wept like a child, I wept for my uncle, for his memory.

It struck me then, with a sickening blow, that the only image I would ever remember of my uncle would be what I beheld at that moment. Erased where those memories of being lifted in his strong arms, riding piggy back on him, being chased for calling him by his name and not the respectable title of "Chithappa" suffixed, instead was a memory, or half a memory? Was this my dearest uncle? I asked.

The next morning Shanmugarajan breath his last. He died in his sleep, after struggling for over a week, on March 6th 2006.

2 days later I went home and saw his picture "Was that you I saw uncle?" I asked again. He smiled back at me from the picture as though mocking at my childish question.

3 days later, my sister called me from the states.

" Niru, for the rest of my life I will live with the single regret that I never saw him before he died" she wept.


I said " Akka, you have no idea how lucky you are...... "



2 years later, you are still sorely missed.

In loving memory of my uncle.......

On the road

Groan...I woke up to the "Pirates of the Caribbean" theme music. It was 5 Rs Coin calling, and the time was 4 A.M. If you are puzzled, which any normal human being would be, 5 Rs Coin is my dear ride partner Haresh a.k.a "Back". 5 Rs Coin because he has this weird habit of collecting 5 Rs Coin. Well I do happen to collect a lot of things from stamps to automobile magazines and I'm happy I'm not called any of them.

I was supposed to be at Ara's place by 4-30 and I had just 29 minutes. Immediately took the phone and called SR, and true to my premonitions he didn't pick up the call. Tried 3 times and even harbored half a thought to go to his place and wake him up but then I remembered that he was Nara's responsibility and unceremoniously ditched him. Had a shower, got dressed and got my bike all heated and saddled up and left home with my brother waving good bye after blessing me with wise sayings like "do the ride for the route and not for the destination" and "don kill yourself" etc.

The ride to Ara's place was supremely quick and at 4-30 in the morning the streets where deserted except for the odd hint of life. Dogs woke up from their reverie and lazily watched me pass by as I zipped to Ara's place. Haresh was there before me and waiting to head out. Ara was down with a cuppa minus the milk as his doctor had advised him to lay off the milk. Poor soul, we kept reminding him of his plight throughout the trip. At least I did!:D

We passed Haresh's bag, gave Ara some instructions and took a few snaps in the dark. Ara then flagged us off and we started on our first road trip in the dark! I took the lead and immediately clipped 65 k's once we hit the Guindy junction. The city had begun to wake up and except for the lorry traffic, dust spray and blinding head lights I was feeling quite confident. Before we knew it we had hit the bypass at poonamale. Soon we where on the NH4 and twist the right hand! caman the roads!!

Riding in the night is quite a tough experience especially when you are doing 70 constant. Shadows play games with you and make weird shapes, truck drivers groggy from their sleep wake up on the wrong side of the bed and trucks dart around like 2 wheelers putting your riding skills to shame. It takes loads of concentration and focus on the road ahead and its during moments like this that my body reacts in strange ways. My nose begins to itch with annoying persistence while the tip of my head becomes hypersensitive. All of this has a simple fix, the sequence is as follows, stop my bike, remove my gloves and glass, wrestle my helmet off my now really irritating head and then scratch myself to glory. But then like most things in life.....I bear it. The most simplest alternative.

So on the road we where, our dear old college whizzed by as the early morning rays shone through the thin layer of fog. I had to lift my visor as my hot breath was misting on it. The cold wind helped numb my nose and that was a relief! Haresh took over and we where clipping 80 constant. The NH4 was 4 lane unadulterated butter smooth nirvana. We weaved in and out of the traffic and soon Ranipet flew by. We had a small break, made sure our bikes where not giving any strange noise or smell, checked our phones for any calls and then hit the road. We decided to make our next stop at Vellore for breakfast. The Orange juice and Marie biscuits I had before leaving had done their job. The prospect of more food brightened the already well lit day. Vellore came and went in a hurry and soon we where coasting to find a good decent breakfast place. I spotted a motel, haresh pulled over and we sat down to some hot idly and Dosa. It was 7:00 AM. 150 odd KM in 2 hours and 15 minutes.

Contd...

Bangalore- the electronic city

Well, sorry about the dumb title but by now you guys should have realized that titles are something I'm not really good it. I was thinking something along the lines of "Bangalore-the city of angels" but then it felt over dramatic and hence the above title.

Now for most guys who know me well, they also happen to know my crazy side well too. This crazy side would love to get under a car given the chance, would love to ride a bike in the middle of the sun and have bath in grease if it where to win me an R1(actually an R15 would do the trick). So the moment Cha called and told me his "poonal kalyanam" function was in Bangalore somewhere in the deepest corner of my not so deep brain an electric impulse generated the most obvious thought wave, "friggin ride"!!!

My plan was set, I was riding even if it meant taking bath in grease. The question was who would ride with me, because cha and gav refused to let me ride alone. Haresh had issues with his bike, he has always had frankly, it keeps throwing him off its back ask him. Gav, J , Ara, KB, SR where to come in Ara's car while myself and Haresh where to follow in by bike provided he could resolve his differences with his bike. He keeps calling his bike "black" and I do not think it is taken in the right spirit. We employed some NATO peace keeping forces and there was a week long standoff but in the end Haresh and his bike reached an amicable solution.

After a ridiculously long gmail thread later, in which we decided on the route, scheduled stops, etc, we where ready for the D-Day as Gaurav called it. Frankly I was not as I had a lot of work to do. My "To do" list for the day included, getting the saddle bag from Bobby, Buying some essentials, meeting some important clients in the evening just before the ride and then going home and packing.

The client trip went well and I closed a successful deal. Went to SR's place to collect my new rider's jacket and the dear lad was right in the middle of a good long session. I warned the dufus to take it easy on the spirit or he would end up spilling his innards in a repeat performance of his puking episode at cha's place a week back. I had a weird feeling he would not make it to the trip when he showed me the gleaming, yet to be opened bottle of scotch. I had an even weirder sensation when I realized that I dint feel like having a drink!! Man I really wanted to make this trip! Lol! So from there I went back home to begin the packing session, it was 11 and I still hadn't begun packing or had the all important dinner. Once home, I showed my jacket to me bro and then sat down to a plate of curd rice watching Troy. Unfortunately I had not seen the movie before and it was A-W-E-S-O-M-E. I was immersed in Achilles and the battle of Troy with any thought of the ride for the next day pushed aside. Bling! Bling! Got a call and realized the time was 12. A marathon packing session later I had completed the packing and was ready to hit the sack. Tomorrow was a big day, my first big ride was 4 hours away and I was too excited(s) to sleep!. By the time sleep pulled me into oblivion it was 2-30....

Contd....

Hi guys, i'm a blogger now

Sitting at my desk, bored, mind wanders.... fingers fidgety. Thinking of what I can do, or what I could be doing instead of sitting at my desk staring at my computer....millions of things. Like a ride? or play grid at home?(its a racing game for all those ignorant buggers) sleep? Hmmm...if only. But then if it was it wouldn't be called life right? More like fantasy I guess.

Nah I wouldn't want that now...its back to reality for me, my research study. Damn you Tata Nano!

until next time. cheers!

Damn!! writing helps you relieve some stress! Here I come you low cost Chassis!!