Saala Farvari phir se

Putting the ball in destiny’s court I decided to let Nusrat Saab choose the topic for this post. Faal mein misra nikla “Sun charkhe di mitthi mitthi hook, maaiya mainu yad aandi ”. With this fair selection done, let me now slip down through memories. Sit back and relax, this is going to be a fun trip.
On this 13th day since three decades of my birth I start reflecting on all the ending and passing that has sincerely ushered in change. I begin to notice the third person tone that has crept in. Feeling quite smug about this seemingly fancy style that I seem to have chanced upon, I take a deep breath. It appears to be a hangover of the film I was watching.
The Lucknow and Delhi part of my life, the very early years.
Most of my autobiographical sketches start with vivid accounts of the much cited train journey from Chaarbagh Station. The incident of the Bat is trademark of the Delhi days. But as I ponder over those days now, with the wisdom of age, I can spot large patches which amount to sheer legend. I have a general feel of the early days, but the specifics begin to blur in time. Did the remote control car pre date the tennis victory? Could I ride the bicycle when Mamu got married? In fact a closer look reveals two clearly distinct memory tracks; incidents at home, with family and life at school, with strangers. These tracks have their individual chronology but relating them to each other is a little tricky. For instance, during the time when GR was my best friend at school had I shared my first smoke with my cousin?
So what I am getting at is this. There is no point wasting time in this part of history. A little fast forward is a fair proposition. Till then …