The Home Stretch

 

Bags are packed, stuff’s bought are stacked, ready to hit
the road… mmmm… air  – again.

 

The last stretch of the trip was supposed to be taken
easily. However woke up on Monday with a strange feeling. A feeling that
prompted me to take on the life by its horns, and work myself till I collapse.
So frantically made calls to office, took numbers and details, made further
calls locally and loaded the days with more work. Boss woke up to a strange
surprise. Don’t think he was expecting this kind of last three days, but as a
boss he had to fall in line.

 

So scooting down to the suburbs again on the British train
lines. First Stop Cambridge, couple of calls after coming back and running down
to Fulham. Busy – busy – busy. Hardly any time to stuff the stomach. Taking the
bites on the go, bagels and baguettes. Not that I liked those dry breads too
much but those were the only alternatives. A huge Blueberry Muffin in between.
Making calls and scoring, good day at work. Came back, an upset stomach, and a
body craving to hit the sack. A bottle of Balnc de Blanc to go with the Greek
Vege dinner, and pooped on the bed. Too humid night with only a table fan to
cool off, kept shifting on the bed till late night, and then passing off
sometime during the night.

 

Woke up again, made some more calls and a call back home.
Some voices make you week in knees, so it happened. The mind and heart cooled
down, yet the momentum was already on the roll, so rushed out early. This time
to Milton Keynes, and taking a taxi to a village (??) called Onley, a publisher
who supposedly publishes journal which are Ferraris and Aston Martins. Met a
Doctorate in Automotive Engineering from Cairo, owning the publication, married
to a Brit and father of five and settled down in the peaceful village with a
huge house named Pastures. Never knew Egyptians can talk so much, though
cracked the deal and this was one of the most important prospect we came here
to meet.

 

Coming back to Milton Keynes on his eight year old Merc
still running as smoothly as ever. Took a foot-long Sub, which Mr. Mitra felt
was standing in his stomach hitting his throat. Another cab to Open University.
The cabbies here are mostly Pakistani, and amazingly very friendly. This one is
in UK since 1965, father of two, with sun working with an engineering firm and
daughter completed a master’s degree in- guess what? Psychology. Suddenly I am
seeing a bunch of people expert in Psychology. Another good meeting and more
business. Hoping back on a fast train back to city. While Mr. Mitra was again
interested in some shopping, he caught me making more meetings. But this time I
got the flak. He knew the condition I was in last night. So had to abandon the
plans, though completed the last meeting already set. Mmmmm, there was another
scolding earlier during the day from Mr. Mitra the elder brother for smoking a
bit too much for last couple of days.

 

While he went on in his buying spree, I stood on the road
mostly, watching the march of cocktail crowds, and making friends with you know
whom. After a while both supposedly retired back after a pure veg keralite
dinner, no booze; once he was in, I went out to have a quite walk on the night
of the city roads. Wanted to see the city in a different light. Empty street,
with occasional couples trooping back, a few friends enjoying smoke on the
front steps, and an elderly lady struggling to cross the road with two huge
packets and a walking stick. Couldn’t resist walking with her a few blocks with
the load and her hand on my shoulder; amazing similarity who passed away 9
years back, who meant a lot for me. The last lady who actually knew me in and
out. With disbelief in her eyes he gave me a kiss on my forehead, and I felt I
have got all that I needed from the trip.

 

Wednusday – the few meetings that I was trying for were
cancelled. Stayed back late, had a late English breakfast, and continued with
our shopping. Now was the time when I decided to go for the shopping spree.
Lots of people back home awaiting for some souvenir, from son, friend, dada and
…… Two huge bag full of stuff, and the heat was killing. Mr. Mitra wanted to
go in a movie to cool off and pass the time. My preference was a museum or at
least some time in a park. Went to Leicester Garden, enquired the shows in
Odeon, tickets started from GBP 12.50. More than a 1000 bucks? But since the
senior partner so insisting, bought two tickets for “Pirates of the Caribbean –
The Dead Man’s Chest”. He knew I will be interested in these kind of movie.
There was quite some time to spend before it begun. So walked down to china
town, had a gratifying meal and walked back to sit in the park around which all
the halls were. It was a sultry afternoon, where people preferred to shed their
shirt and take a nap in the park. We sat calmly in one of the benches, and soon
I was lost in thoughts. The little friends were having a blast with the pigeons
around and I whistled merrily. Some of the tunes were from Bangla movies much
before my time, and Mr. Mitra was surprised to hear the tunes I liked and still
remembered. So few people actually knows others.

 

The movie was kind of good apart from the end. The hall was
huge but there were only about 30 people in place of about 1000. Came out, had
the typical Mr. Mitra jig on the street. People not sure about of themselves
really pisses me off, but I have learnt to keep my emotions under cover. He
will invariably run in one direction, stop and say, “No I guess we should go in
the other direction”, a few paces and stop, turn around, “No,  this should be better”; stop, look around,
run to a third direction, and after a few paces, “I think we have done a
mistake; we should have taken the first direction; that would have been much
better.” I mean, why cant one stop, decide on one and stick to it.

 

Again a bottle of Italian wine, the last one before we
leave, and may be for a long time to come for me too, as I cant enjoy a drink
alone. Indian food, and bidding the our Bangladeshi friend bye. He said Good
Bye, and as I say, I told him, I never say good bye, for me its – “till we meet
again!” Back in hotel, went online, checked the mails, none were there.
Shifting on bed as usual passing off somewhere in the middle. Woke up late,
called up people back home, packed my stuff. While I was finishing up this
entry, got a call from Mr. Mitra, the Egyptian doctor has already sent work –
good ending.

 

Soon will be back in my house, the weekend spent on making
it hospitable. There will be a lot of people awaiting my return. Some will be
more eager than others, while preferring to say the otherwise. I know I will be
going back to some routine that has become part of life, a part of life that
has brought a few shades of color in the black and white sketch. Still running
towards the dream, a dream most says is just a wild goose chase. Yet, that’s my
dream, and “deep in my heart, I do believe, I shall overcome – some day”


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8 responses to “The Home Stretch

  1. Zooper trip for Zooper man (Z)Horus! I bet you bought all sorts of lovely little things for everyone back home:)
     
    Your Mr. Mitra sounds like my mommy, she too can never decide, and born in Calcutta that she was, she makes a very pretty bangla shakha paula clad lost woman picture on the road…Only the boistrous sardarni laughter betrays that otherwise decievingly elegant persona:)
     
    BTW, you HAVE to catch the happydent white ad…Zooper one this one! I have a feeling you\’d like it too…
     
    Cheers!
    S

  2. *welcome back*
    let the dreams never die – however, wild goose chase they may seem to others..
    cheers
    N
     

  3. hi. were you on a trip? is it over? did you get what you went for? all the best . u must be tired , unlike u to make so many spelling and gramatical errors . so how have you been ?

  4. welcome back
    🙂
     

  5. DeGrinningGranny

     
    1.  one of the most interestin persons ive ever met :o)
    2. put up yr pics on yr space
     
    3. brown
    4. u hav a lot of patience plus u come checkin on my space even tho i miss sometimes :o)
    5. whn u talked of how much u liked rains
    6. owl…i dunno why..  :oD
    7. wats yr real name??  and how gud or bad a liar u r??
     
    8. now u gotta post..
     
     

    now you\’re supposed to copy and paste this :
    If you comment on this post (saying anything at all):1. I’ll respond with something random about you2. I’ll challenge you to try something3. I’ll pick a color that i associate with you4. I’ll tell you something i like about you5. I’ll tell you my first/clearest memory of you 6. I’ll tell you what animal you remind me of7. I’ll ask you something i’ve always wanted to ask you8. If i do this for you, you must post this on yours
     
     
    and then there is a second part to the tag. you have to choose 3 people from your "cyber celebs" and write something random about them without revealing their names.

  6. just 30 ppl… in 1000 seater hall…???? … lol… ppl had to buy the tickets in black here…lol…. what a strange world…. pictures r so amazing dost… especially bangla rad wali….lol… wow yaar…
     
    tht pic of rainy day reminded me of my dad ..walking me through …lol… kiss on ur forehead…eh..??? khub moja korchen ?…?? well helping some1 crossing the roads in a differnt country…of different origin… wow..it is really an appreciable task… i respect u even more….
     
    banglar-e raasta -r chobi.. London-e dekhe khub bhalo laglo … taar songe banglay lekha… 😛 …
     
    havent u seen any gurudwaras ther…and dont they have hawkers in london…i know it sounds stupid..however i saw it once on the tv during 1999 world cup series….
     
    khob moja koro
    respect….
    saurabh…..

  7. Ok ok finally its over the ordeal
    of sitting and reading and getting jealous its done done yipee its over lol j/k
     
    glad u had fun tho! someday i\’ll go toooooo
    welcome back nw u\’ll be back to blogging 🙂

  8. Looks like u had a hectic trip.Bye TC,Rama

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