The Great Indian Dream?

Disclaimer: The characters in this post are definitely not fictitious and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely intentional.

11 April 2010: Ridgeley, MD, USA

Crash...Thud...Collision...Fire...Bloodshed...Agony...!

This was the order of the hour, at East Coast’s premier hang gliding centre. The glider had failed to lift itself off the ground, after being provided with sufficient momentum by its driver during the half-mile run. The rescue squad had arrived – including a pool of cops, medical reps and a fire-fighting squad. The police authorities had comfortably guessed the age of the ambitious young man to be in the early 20s, yet had no clue to his identity. The meds knew they had limited time in hand – they were thrown at the boundary between life and death. With every passing Planck time, the wounded person was being pulled to the cosy arms of death that would defy all ‘bloody’ attraction theories in Milky Way – be it Newton’s law of gravitation or Bhagavad Gita’s ideology of ‘detached attachment’ or King Kong’s uncouth appeal towards Ann Darrow.

Alas, the young blond man uttered a clutter of words, of which the only word that the meds remotely made sense of was – “Snowy....”

18 Apr 2010: Department of Diagnostics & Back-up CSIs, Johns Hopkins University Hospital, Baltimore, MD, USA

Clueless as to how many lunar revolutions had occurred since my earlier state of sanity; I awaken to a dizzy state. And there seems a very familiar argument prodding on around me. I catch the maverick diagnostician exclaiming to his colleagues – “Everybody lies, folks. The string at the apex of the glider had worn out after being used for 18 years. Obviously, the authorities wouldn’t admit.”

Shock then overwhelmed me to bewilderment. “House? I mean, Dr Gregory House?”


“Yes, Dr. Obnoxious Moron. If you’d have achieved this Nirvana a week earlier, I’d have called you Tintin. Ruined my perfect vacation with a troll of mother elephants at the Baltimore Harbor. You’re the first patient that has clocked a week with me..faggot!”

And I left Greg to his job, aware that I might have been at fault with my run that day. After all, I did have an assortment of experiences with running to catch up with time/life. Sensing the need to investigate into Tintin’s unexplored childhood marathon, I decided to have a catnap.

27 Jun 2009: Changi International Airport, Singapore (The Great Tintin Run 1)

2115 HRS: 45 minutes left to my flight's departure to Paris. Desperately leaving the cab behind, I was fleeing to the check-in counter. If I missed this one, the next flight was exactly 24 hours later. I’d then lose the golden opportunity to attempt for the lead role in Blake Edward’s ‘Pink Panther.’ Running hard & panting like never before, not even when I used to be delayed for my chemical engineering exams at the National University of Singapore. Finally, I arrived at the check-in booth – “Tintin? Sorry Lah, the gate is now closed.”

13 May 1992: Chennai, India (The Great Tintin Run 2)
“Tintin, come & take your ball, kid.”

Proud to show off my walking capabilities, I took off with the same enthusiasm as a leopard would after spotting its prey on a night prowl. Focus was set. Swoosh…Swoosh….and I tripped on my baby toes. But guess what, I was protected by the warmth of my grandpa’s arms. (Gone are those days)

9 Nov 2005: Dubai, UAE (The Great Tintin Run 3)

The tennis ball came zooming towards me, and I could feel everyone’s gaze converging at my hands. I could only imagine the repercussions of the last ball finish of a 20-over game of cricket on all of us, teenage kids. “Catch it, Tintin! Don’t miss the freaking catch.” Running towards the ball, bearing in mind projectile motions & the Bernoulli’s preached in high school; I looped in the air and managed to clasp it between my fingers. *THUD* Then, I collapsed against one of the CRVs in the parking lot.

21 Jan 1993: Delhi, India (The Great Tintin Run 4)

Loud & irritating horn sounds are initiated by a huge driver sahib of a mammoth bus. After having being woken up ten minutes earlier, there starts a running attempt to get on the school bus. My 'Laddu-esque' friends on the bus perform stunts through the window to confirm that I’ve missed my vahana & I felt like an over-burnt Jalebi.

“Ha. It’s confirmed. Wait. At least, it’s not Lupus.” – Dr. House

21 Apr 2001: Mumbai, India (The Great Tintin Run 5)

Coerced to join the popular primary school game 'Hide n Seek' in one of the Physical Excursion classes, I was left with the trickiest part of it all - being a 'denner'. Initially tentative to run away from the den, I later found myself scouting for my friends - fast forwards - "You're out, TinTin!" Startled at this pleasant charming voice in my group, I jerked off everyone to witness every Indian adolescent's (in my generation) dream girl - "HERMIONEEE.....Erm, I mean Emmmmaaa?"

"Sath..Sathvik..you're the only one left to go for hang gliding. Stop day dreaming, jackass!" - my buddy just knocked me to reality?

PS: If Ghajini could emulate Memento as well as it did, consider this a lame attempt at a Memento-style narrative. To add on, I've grown up with these characters & therefore decided to endear them in the starters.

PPS: The HodgePodge team is possibly going to sue me for not adhering to the theme. But I'd love to sign off with a chart that really kept me glued to this theme in the last few days. Is this really the Great Indian Dream? Arguably, not. At this very moment, if you aren't able to perceive my intent, clearly I've addressed my objectives. So, until next time....Kabhi-Alvida-Na-Kehna-Phir-Milenge-Yuhi-Chalte-Chalte!

Jai Ho!