Life, they say, is full of coincidences. A truth that manages to catch my fuzzy attention all too frequently at various points in time.
Now, if you think I am about to start on how my boss used to pick THAT day when I wanted to go off and watch an IPL match to keep me in office with urgent work – think again! That sort of thing is too commonplace an occurrence – bosses exist for the purpose of raining on subordinates’ parades. What would be worth mentioning is a boss who is also packing up for the day in order to watch the same IPL match. Oh! And, by the way, do not exult if your boss is packing up soon – it only means that he is going to load his work on you so that he can go off and enjoy himself!
These days, one of the major coincidences that I experience is phone-calls. By and large, my friends and family strive greatly to avoid any reminders of my existence and, thus, hardly anyone calls me up. Every now and then, however, they get this sudden optimistic hope that I have shuffled off my mortal coil and ring up with expectations of finding their happy daydreams confirmed. What surprises me is that fact that almost all of them get infected by this unwarranted optimism on the same day. A fortnight passes without my even having to remember that I have a phone and, suddenly, on one fine day I am juggling phone-calls - and grabbing bites in the infrequent intervals - like some Bollywood caricature of a busy tycoon.
The Suresh-Ramesh sort of coincidence – meeting an old friend by accident – I have mentioned before. I walk down MG Road in Bangalore and, presto, my old school friend walks out of a coffee shop and literally bumps noses with me. What set the icing was that the same chap was standing outside the door of an acquaintance in Delhi and it turned out that the acquaintance was his brother-in-law. Meeting the same guy twice over by happenstance was, I think, a sufficiently astonishing coincidence. (By the way, how many other coincidences of this sort I had missed out because the others ducked out of sight the moment they espied me, I will never know. This chap was caught both times with no means of escape)
The coincidence that set off this post happened recently. I, normally, visit Delhi around the May-June period enroute a trek in the Himalayas. This time, I had planned a meet with Zephyr. Akanksha Dureja had also fixed up a meet. (The friends who have met me put this enthusiasm to the fact that they had, hitherto not met me in person!).
What happens? Zephyr shifts base out of Delhi to Mumbai. So, one meet out of the window. I console myself with the thought of serenading Akanksha despite her avowed dislike of music (Actually, that is OK since, when I sing, there are few who accept that what comes out is music). What next? Akanksha Dureja has to go to the UK. Bang go two meets. (Incidentally, I never knew people could go to these lengths to avoid meeting me)
I am still coming to Delhi in June. Anyone in the National Capital Region hankering for a change of scene?