An account

Today, I am down with a fever. So I decided to sit down in office and write an account of my life after I started marketing trucks.

I landed in chennai after a couple of weeks of training at Indore. I was promptly transferred to Andhra, since my name ended with a “lu”! I was back in the land of my mother tongue. I spent a couple of days in Hyderabad, trying to get to know my boss, who always managed to overpower me with smartness! He is one amazingly smart guy. He actually made me buy the story that I would learn more in vijayawada, than in Hyderabad.

So I landed up in vijayawada, one hot night (remember, there is nothing called a non hot night in my “territory”). I am basically comfortable in any place if I know the following things:
1. where is home?
2. where is office?
3. who are my colleagues?
4. how am I going to sell?
5. what am I doing here?

The point was that I did not know any of these! The first time I tried to get an auto rickshaw was hilarious. I told him I wanted to go to such and such a hotel in amazingly unintelligible telugu. The gulti in the driver understood, and offered to talk in English, again so amazingly….. I managed to get the word Governorpet out of my mouth and he understood. The process of getting to understand each other had taken many jeers from other auto drivers, and about 10 minutes!

The next day started with me calling up the person who was supposed to be transferred to Hyderabad, “balu”. He told me to come to the dealer’s office. I put the phone down and I remembered that I did not know where “that” place was. So again I called up and asked him and again an episode of understanding and tolerance from auto drivers.

I realized that classical telugu was nothing but the addition of one “undy” after everybody or everything that has to be addressed with respect. After that everything is understood and forgiven on compassionate grounds.

I got to know that my territory would include 7 districts, having a total of 3 dealers and 5 service points. And I would have to visit each of these atleast once in a week. So I would be traveling, a lot. I decided I had to rent a house, and so tried the papers. No success. My colleague from Hyderabad, murali, came to my rescue. He found a place for me and I fixed up home.

It was particularly difficult the first few weeks. Everything was either hot or hotter or hottest. The wall was hot. The floor was hotter. The water was hottest. And I did not have a bed or a sheet to sleep on. So I slept like I was the freest man ever born. I slept anywhere in the house.

Those first few days were the most difficult. I did not know anyone in the city. I was running short of money, and I did not even have a fan in the house. And I did not have the time also to go and buy a few necessities.

The few things that had been very dear to me were not with me here. I did not have my bike. I did not have any books. I did not have my music system. Everyday, rather every evening was a struggle against loneliness. I had these bouts of wretchedness, which happened when I traveled and I stayed in hotels.

“I was depressed”

Meanwhile, things were going great guns at work. I was coping well and getting on my own feet rather quickly. And work was the only solace for my soul, which seemed to be suspended in the past and in faded memories.

I was calling up a lot of my old friends, every night. I would lament, I would laugh, I would sound confident, and I would sound proud. And all this while I was regularly missing my meals, and was profoundly sweating, always. The good was that I lost a lot of weight.

I did not notice that I was losing weight till I tried an old pair of jeans that used to be very tight. Then I checked my weight, I had gone down by 10kgs!

All this while I was living like a free animal, rather than a free man! That was the comment made by my mother when she visited me for the first time. My home was transformed, by her, into what I could call a homely home. I had a bed, I had sheets on them. And ladies and gentlemen, for the first fantastic time in my life, I had a kitchen of my own.

I love my kitchen and cook everyday if I am in town. I cook what I feel like eating, and I don’t bother to give them any names. I always cook before 11pm, so I can still have food outside if anything goes wrong. Its been a string of success stories all along. I started with rice and noodles. Now I have graduated to all curries, dosas, chapathis and even non vegetarian stuff. I love cooking and shaking it up with some music.

This afternoon I went home to have lunch. I quickly made some vermicelli, had it with some sauce and pickles, and I am feeling full after a cup of milk and an apple. Food is good and so is life!

And the gulti style is catching up with me too. For the first time in my life I got myself an orange coloured tee shirt! And my conversations are interspaced by telugu words. And my friends seem far away. And so is a society. The coffee shop is my only hang out.

I am sure I will go back to my old life, but I am learning here. I can never feel more insecure than when I landed here that first night. I can never feel more nervous than when I sat down for my deal. There are quite a few extremes I have come to this summer. I can say that I have had quite an adventure!