Out of the airplane and in the airport. I haven’t been here for the past 5 years. Nothing changed in the airport, neither the system nor the people. But India is a much talked and admired country in Nederland (that’s where I work).

My wife frequented India and my foreign raised kids are constantly reminded of being cautious about drivers, helpers or any strangers as a matter of fact every time they visit India.

I walked up to the prepaid taxi counter and took a token to my home which I haven’t seen or visited or thought about in 5 years. My youngest was so curious every time he lands here wondering about the nation he belonged. The elder is like her mother very quiet.

The porter led us to the Ambassador taxi and I saw on the rear wind screen written in Tamil “baadu”.

The typical Tamilian taxi driver said “vaanga sir.. enga povanum” (’Hello.. Where to?’).

My wife spoke. I kept thinking about the word on the rear wind screen of the taxi.

The driver realized that we are NRI’s and greeted the kids by handing them two toffees. The kids took it. As we got into the taxi my wife took the toffees and threw them. She said not to accept things from strangers in English. I could see the taxi driver smiling. I thought he understood what my wife said.

As he kept driving in the night, he asked few questions to my daughter. My wife ’ssh’ed her. But my younger answered him. I could imagine my wife nudging him. This time yet I noticed the driver smiling.

I felt little bad. I picked a conversation with the driver. I could hear my wife sigh at the back while the kids where busy looking out of the window. The huge actor posters and ads filled almost both sides of the road.

I asked “Endha ooru?” (”Where are you from?”)

He said “Sir, Salem sir.”

I asked “Kalyanam?” (”Are you married?”)

He said “aachu sir. aana pasanga illa.” (”Married, but no kids”)

I said “Oh! Ethana varushama taxi.” (”How many years are you driving this taxi”)

I am used to get into such conversations and end up giving my number. Then they eventually call for some help. Knowing my instinct to help anyone, my wife tried to pitch in with all intention prevent the conversation grow. She knew I wasn’t listening to her.

He said “2 varusham sir. aana naa oru BA graduate. Presidency College Chennai, 1998 batch.” (”2 Years Sir, but I am a BA graduate from the Presidency College Chennai, 1998 batch”)

Surprised I asked him “approm yen taxi, nalla velai kidaikalaya?”. (”Educated in Presidency! But, why taxi? Didn’t find a job?”)

India, its size and power, churns out millions of graduates every year from each state. It’s quite possible that unemployment might be high. But Presidency College is one among the Top 5 colleges in the country.

He said “Ila sir. Vidhi sir. Idhula dhan enaku nimmadi iruku.” (”No sir, I find peace in this job and moreover it’s my fate”)

I am still surprised. Now I notice that my wife is interested in the conversation too. She was listening. She values and respects educated people. The kids have fallen asleep. Another 30 minutes to home.

I asked “enna solreenga. kekava aarvama iruku.” (”You got to be joking. It’s interesting to see a ex-Presidency student like you drive taxi and find pleasure in it”)

He reached out to the glove compartment and took a wallet and showed me a photo of a boy inside it. About 4 years old I guessed.

He said “He is my son. His name is Sivakumar. He joined school and was learning new things. I was working in Virtusa as an administration clerk. I used to return home to play with him, help him with his home work and teach him good things vs. bad things. He plays cricket with the street kids. He picked up the local slang word ‘baadey’ which is a bad word from the street kids. That’s what I have put in the back of car. He shouts that word whenever he is upset.”

My wife looked back to see the word, she would have remembered the word to ask me the meaning later. I kept silent. I felt strange and I didn’t want to hear further.

He continued “One day while he was playing on the road a car lost control and hit him. We took him to the hospital but he did not survive.” He paused. He was choking from sadness. I looked out of the window to get fresh air.

He continued “Then my wife was so struck by the sadness and she too fell sick. She didn’t survive after 3 months. They both left me alone.”

“There was the court case against the driver. The judge asked me if I wish to punish or pardon the driver. I pardoned him. But took that car from him and it is this taxi now. I decided to be a driver of this car as long as I live. This is not a car, its my son’s soul.”

I didn’t speak after that. My wife was silent too. But this silence of hers is different from her usual taxi silence. I took the bags from the trunk of the car and paid him little extra. He gladly took it and thanked me as I walked towards my much ignored home. My family was awake to receive us.

To my surprise my wife was talking to the driver. I stopped to listen.
She said “Indhanga, idhu enga veetukar number. Edachum help venumna phone pannunga. Eppovena inga vaanga.” (“This is my husbands number. You will be welcome in our home anytime”)

She told the kids to take few more toffees from him and told the kids to thank him. My son shook hands with him. I could see his eyes flooded with tears. I continued to walk away.

The story starts so well with Surya and Jyothika as wonderful family with their 6 yr old daughter Aishu.

The movie takes a dramatic turn when Jyothika learns about the past marriage which Surya had and how it broke. The story also narrates the nature of Surya when he was in college.

Being at-least 15% Surya during my college, I have personally lived a wonderful life during college no doubt. However, my wife has her own doubts about my college life…

When the movie “Jillendru Oru Kaadhal” was released in Dubai we watched in Galleria 2. The very day my wife confirmed (seeing me react during the movie and after the movie) that I would have had some kind of a similar incident in college.

In the movie, the whole plot changes when Jyothika finds the insect box (for Aishu’s school project).

From then, every time we visit India, my wife doesn’t miss a chance to fiddle around all my college stuff searching for an insect box. I have all my college stuff including my notes packed in some 8 huge card board boxes (a box can hold a 29 inch regular TV). I think she has searched some 2 over the past 3 years.

Well, I just have 3 things to say…

1. The name Aishu of Surya’s daugther in the movie refers to Surya’s ex-love Bhumika. However, my daughter’s name was my wife’s choice.

2. The insect box was found in the movie when Surya & Jyothika’s daughter was 6 years old. Our daughter is just 4 months old.

3. Jillendru Oru Kaadhal is the movie name. Oru Kaadhal means one(ly) love. Jillu actually refers to Jyothika’s pet name in the movie. Yes… Surya calls Jyothika in the movie “Jillu”. Hence Jillnu Oru Kaadhal!

Well… its you guys turn now… is there an insect box in your house?

The market for such bachelor’s interest on women is unimaginable huge and it operates with so much of ease and rule over the freedom of the said women.

One of our projects was for a Hotel Group Chain (like we have The Welcome Group). We happened to interact with the Chief Engineer a lot. During a weekend, I decided to go around with him to one of the 5 star hotels in Dubai which comes under their control. He often visits hotels belonging to their group to ensure safety standards and best practices. Right from the kitchen to the restroom.

In the hotel, he took me to 3 important cafe’s. Cafe 1 was Mujra style. Cafe 2 was discotheque. Cafe 3 was an English cafe.

He then gave me the details of women “employed” about Cafe 1:

- Their work starts from 9 PM and ends about 5 AM
- They are supposed to dance with whatever dress provided to them in front of an audience.
- The audience if they like the dance, they throw money.
- The women are not allowed to leave the premises of the hotel at anytime
- They are taken out in a group once in a month for a change
- They get paid around 400$ a month.
- The extra money they make is purely the tips they earn.

Cafe 2: He took me to the pavilion just above cafe 2. We watched the Cafe 2 through security camera’s and glass windows.

The DJ was playing music so loud and noisy and it was all Hindi music. All was able to see was boys and girls dancing to the noise. It was such a sad site to see kids who turned just legal or about to get legal dancing and shouting and engaging in public. Some of the older men take advantage of the disco. Sad sight!

Cafe 3: A English cafe for old men who want to watch food ball. There is a rock band who sing classic rock like Credence, Bruce Springsteen, etc. However the point to be noted is that the serving is done by all women again rules of Cafe 1 are applied.

Cafe 1 and Cafe 2 were completely Indian. However, the contrast was too much for me in a day. I was absolutely stunned.

Cafe 1 are women who are driven to this profession due to various situations back in India or some of them are even forced into this profession.

Cafe 2 are girls and boys who have no clue what is in store for them. But think that DJ Music and Discotheque is absolutely cool.

When I returned along with my friend, back to my apartment he told me “See how it is out in hotel industry. This is the worst industry ever to work. But if you are a guest, then the whole thing changes.”

What could you say? I did not know.

Probably, God Bless!

Few months back his friend took him to Al Bustan Health Club. He got a good massage done, used the steam rooms and jaccuzi in the health club. The feeling after the massage was really good and exciting. After that he frequented the Health Club in Le Meridien.

Co-incidentally, his massage therapist had been the same person. The first time inside the massage room, he felt a lot shy to even talk to her or look at her. Next visits he was quite comfortable.

Nim, was her name. Born in Bali. 25 years. 11 Hours from Doha. Goes to Bali once in 18 months.

He kind of liked Nim and her massage.

He said, “Frankly Nim. I like to be with you.” Nim was silent. Nim started the therapy and did not speak through out. But, he felt that it was the best he ever got from Nim. He took another appointment 3 days later for Nim. Nim too liked his company.

He called her one day morning and asked her to take off and come with him to a special place. He drove her up to the southern mountain range. They kept talking about various things about their life in Doha and at that time, Nim got a call from someone. He felt uncomfortable.

But the cloud cleared instantly, when started talking again. Nim was impressed by the desert mountains.

He stopped his car near a camping site and climbed few meters up the mountain and found a spot to sit with Nim. The sunset from that mountain was brilliant. He sat close to Nim. Tried to hold her hand. Nim was reluctant, but did not resist. He did not care.

He was driving back. Nim was silent. He said “Nim, we will live together here. I feel that I should stay close to you all the time.”

Nim said, “I will think” when she was getting down at her apartment. Few days later, Nim shifted to his apartment.

He liked her company. He almost got a family here in Doha. He took care of Nim very well and let her save the money she earned. After some 6 months with all the Nim in his life, he decided to go to India to meet his family.

Nim at the same point thought she would also take a vacation. The booked same day flights.

Jakarta International Airport: The next day. Nim landed and her eyes searched the crowd for someone. Came running a boy. Probably aged 5. Behind the boy, was a guy waving his hand.

Nim said “hey… honey.. how are you?”

The boy replied “I am so happy to see you mummy”.

5 years after marriage and 2 kids.. now life is sore. I continued to chat on the messenger with the chat friend. Talking to this new friend who is a girl kept me happy. I haven’t seen her, nor spoken to her. All we did is chat.

After 3 months of chatting with her, I expressed that I would like to be with her forever.

I typed “Can we get into a long term relation? May be marriage.”
I expected a reply for her on the screen.

The screen was not doing anything. The cursor was blinking. Suddenly it said, she signed out…

I made a mistake, it was too early. I signed out and went home. She opened the door. I asked “have the kids slept?”.

“Yes…”. I asked “did you have dinner?” She said “Yes. Food for you is on the table.” She went to sleep. For some reason the relationship between my wife and me is not going well.

I went to bed and thought about my chat friend. I was eager to go next day to office and go online to chat with her.

It is around 9 PM now, she hasn’t come online yet. I decided to go home, suddenly she came online. I buzzed her on her ID (lonelyplanet).

I typed “Hi.”. No Reply.

I typed “Hello. Are you there?”. No Reply.

I typed “Sorry, I overstepped last night and asked you the question.” No Reply.

I was impatient. Suddenly the screen lit up with my eyes

She replied “Hi..”

She continued “I am not sure if this would work.”

I typed “We can make it work. Even I need to finish something before we start.”

I typed “We need to see each other. I am eager to see you and meet you.”

She replied “Ok. But one condition.”

I typed “Ok. I agree before listening to it. But, we need to meet.”

She replied “Tomorrow 4 PM. City Centre. I will be wearing a Yello Salwar and waiting at Gloria Jeans Coffee.”

I typed “Great! I will see you at four.”

I was happy today. Finally something interesting in my life. I went up the stairs and all 7 floors.

I rang the bell. The door opened. I looked at my wife. She was getting tired. She turned and went to the bedroom. While going I heard her “Food is on the table.”

I just fell on the couch to sleep. No sleep. Clock was too slow. It had more than 12 hours to get to 4 PM.

Time was 1 PM. I went to my team members and announced that I had something important to do. I left to City Centre. I ran up to the Gloria Jeans Coffee.

Time now was 10 PM. The sea was getting rough. I decided to go home. I parked my car way far from house and walked.

I rang the bell. I saw my wife’s face. It looked tired. She was walking to the bedroom when I heard her say “Food is on the table.”

I ate the food. I went into the bed room. I went and sat near my son and looked up the wall. I saw his photo and the marriage photo. Next to it was hanging on the hangar was “The Yellow Salwar”.