You wouldn't think so, but...

You: I've been to your blog a number of times. It's starting to stink you know...

Me: Look man. I'll tell you this much - I still write.

You: Where!? I want to read this stuff.

Me: Anonymity gives me more freedom.

You: Then, how will I ever read what you write?

Me: I won't lie to you, friend. You may never read my writing again. And even if you do, you may never know it's me scratching from behind that screen.

You: Easy man. We'll still meet on and off, right? Cheer up!

HOSUR.

I’m back. But only because Sudhindra cut his hair. The void has to be filled.

There have been many happenings about which I can’t wait to tell you guys, but this experience beats the rest. One night after dinner, I went out for a walk with a couple of my friends. We turned at Central Silk Board junction to, you guessed it, Hosur Road.

As we walked down the road in the cold and windy moonlit darkness, the reverberations of a noisy, trafficky day could still be felt on Hosur. My friend Bharani “Barney” Aditya was in his usual finicky spirits, complaining about his cubicle partner and devouring Goodday biscuits rapidly. Modestly built, though he is, his aura of ‘importance’ more than makes up for it.

The other friend with me was Sudhindra, a guy who left TCS after 10 months not because he was on bench or his dislike for Thane but because he didn’t like his project and his boss. Anybody who reads his final letter to TCS will be an instant fan.

Chatting about our training period and the curse that is Hosur, we covered a few hundred yards before Barney suddenly stopped us and disappeared into the distance behind some bushes. I was just going to say how disgusting I thought these practices were when Sudhindra said, “I’ll be back,” and shot off.

All alone, I slowly circled my waiting ground, humming in my head. Suddenly a voice in the darkness said, “Damn you IT guys”. I got scared, but managed to stay conscious.

“Who’s that?”, I said, trembling.

“It’s me, Hosur Road”.

I was completely taken aback but tried to keep sane. I stammered back “D-Don’t be silly. Roads can’t talk.”

“First of all, you owe me an apology.”

“W-What do you mean?” I asked with a little more friction.

“I heard you talk about me there. Kettles need a little self-introspection.”

“Hah”, I said sarcastically, “Listen to the road.”

“Hey, I know I’m black. But you guys aren’t scot-free you know.”

“Nice try. Nobody likes going to Electronics City because of you”, I said, thinking this should be enough to shut the thing up.

“Hey! Nobody likes staying in BANGALORE because of you,” came the baffling reply.

“Me? I haven’t been here even a few months,” I defended.

“I mean you , as in you software guys.”

This was a little thick for me. I was going to say how potty I thought this argument was but between the mind and lip, I realized there is a plausible surface to the argument.

It continued, “.. you guys pay every shopkeeper, every restaurant and every auto driver a few tenners more than the rest of the populace. How do think the others are ever going get by here?”

“Hmm..,” I hummed thoughtfully.

I think it had a point. We software engineers were driving up the cost of living and I really wish we could all do something about it. It’s all for the better and blah of course, but was it really our fault?

“Listen Hosur,” I said, trying to sound wise, “ I think you are responsible for it.”

“Ah, so now you are gonna go irrational on me,” it said.

“No , listen to me..,” I continued, “Why do you think we spend so much?”

After a short pause, I gave it the reason – “stress, my brother, stress.”

“Your dense expanse breaks the resolve of army generals like twigs. You make us want to chew our brains up. The only way we can stop ourselves is by throwing our money away. It’s a de-stressing mechanism”.

Silence followed. It got my point. I was happy but I still wanted a response.

After a few moments , it said “I see your point, Achyuta. But I can’t do much about my situation.”

“Well, grow a bit on the edges atleast,” I suggested.

“I know, I know. But it is not in my hands. The government… uh.. really.. they’ve had me on for a while now.”

I comforted it, “Oh, they’ve had us all on Hosur. And they turn us on each other as usual.”

“Yes brother,” it agreed, “We need to be alert to all this. Anyway, thanks for the talk. I may take your criticism as badly aimed, I guess.”

“Yes, you may, Hosur. And it was nice meeting you,” I said as Barney and Sudhindra came into sight again.

“Who were you talking to there?”, Barney asked.

“Oh , just singing an old song.”

“Right,” they both said looking at each other and we started back for our homes. I think they were chatting all the way back, but my mind was really with the road. As we turned around Silk board, I stayed back a bit to have one more word.

“Hey Hosur, what’s your wish-list like?”, I ventured.

It emptied a carton of idealisms on me : “You know. The usual. Progressive government, good contractors, keeping schedules, honesty and more such stuff.”

“That’s difficult, Hosur. You’ll have to leave the World to find all that," I said, "But you could have good night’s sleep like the rest of us until then.”