It’s not rush hour???

Squirming, wriggling, packed, pushed, nauseated, bruised, comical, sleepy and alert. These are not just some random feeling evoked or remembered but are in fact the feeling experienced in a short span of a simple ten minute ride. Surprising nah? Well apparently not so for the locals here. Their everyday lives start and end the same hence they hardly feel the need to complain. Hmmm I guess some of you would have already guessed what I am talking about.

Recently I got to watch an ad on TV for a popular travel luggage manufacturer, the ad showed a foreigner getting into the local train in Bombay and the hardships he face during his short travel, the way he gets separated from his baggage and both he and the baggage actually undergo very similar treatments in terms of travel and abuse but in the end when he finally gets down he is miraculously reunited with his baggage. Ads like that usually tend to get an exaggerated thought in the minds of people, people who like me are a little pessimistic and quite often than not proclaim,”come on! This isn’t reality”.

Boohooing the very thought even before coming to terms with reality is pretty much the route we take most of the time. Well ever since I came to this city I always wanted to get into the essence of what I thought was the mainstream of Mumbai travel, the local train. Ask any bombayite or rather Mumbaikar as they call themselves now his preferred mode of transportation for commuting in the city and the answer you are bound to receive is the train. The opportunity never actually presented itself until a few days back when a friend of mine suggested that we take the train back from work. Apprehensive I thonk would have defined my thoughts at the very idea. First being the rush hour and secondly the fact that I would have preferred the bus to the train just for the convenience.

Thinking it would not be nice to chicken out on the prospect of experiencing the thrill of the train ride at rush hour, I agree to it and off we walk to the Khar railway station. Procuring a ticket for Rs. 4/- we head to the platform and the electronic display informs us the next train to Andheri is due in five minutes. My friend takes this time to point out a few necessary things to be kept in mind for the travel. He points out that the backpack should be placed up front and not behind you. Pretty soon we are like two pregnant penguins waiting for the train. This again for a few reasons one no one steals from you and two you are assured your belonging are in the train with you while you travel and not experience a different trip for the length of the journey. This piece of advice is taken into consideration as it makes sense. The next dialogue brought out the; what do you mean expression in me. He said that after you board the train turn to the direction and move to the other side of the bogey.

As he was saying this the train rounded the corner and was entering the platform. The train came in packed with at least ten people hanging out of each compartment and I was like okay may be they are wanting to get down. The train halts and the number of people who got down were in the range of hmmm… TWO!!! My friend shouts out get in the train is free. Perplexed by the statement I look transfixed at the compartment which is packed with people. My friend and I push into the already full compartment that is apparently empty to my friend and must say the experience was quite enjoyable. Finally I get to push, stomp, glare, and actually float all at the same time without any complaints from other people. Apparently this kind of a behavior is normal!

Hearing this the only dialogue that came into my head was a line made famous by my favourite comic character Obelix. He kept saying these Romans are crazy!!?!!. Now it was my turn to say these mumbaikars are crazy! No offence meant by what is a guy supposed to think of someone who considers being pushed, stamped and abused normal behaviour?

Once inside the train I try my level best to stay in one place but to no avail. I am literally pushed in the direction I am standing and I must say I am thankful for heading so coz my platform apparently came on the opposite side of the compartment. The only thing I am thankful for right now is that the journey is going to last all of 10 minutes and then it’s time to alight from this compartment that has now come to resemble a tin of sardines. All this while I was conversing with my friend who was standing behind me, upon not hearing from his I turn around only to find a total stranger staring back at me.

God he must have wondered what’s up with this guy! Not seeing my friend anywhere near me I continue on getting pushed to the other side of the compartment and I keep asking the passengers in front of me if they too are getting down at Andheri station! Some of them say yes, some say no. Upon nearing Andheri station the shove from the back increases and I am already heading for the door. To my dismay I look ahead and see that I am headed for disaster as there in front of me right in the middle of my path stood and iron bar separating the doorway into two. I close my eyes knowing of the fate that awaited me but to my surprise I land on the platform jostling for my footing as other passengers from Andheri board the train taking them home.

My first experience in the main artery of Mumbai's commute finally over, all that I can manage with a squeak was it was not rush hour!

Candid conversations of the cities insomniacs…

The chirp of a bird and the incessant cooing of the pigeons are bound to be a wake-up call you’d love to have. Trudging with sleepy eyes and a mind still not fully awake, from the night’s dream and looking for that little ray of the morning sunlight, that will fully awaken to the realization of the new dawn.

Don’t know if this is the same with the million others who dwell in this city that literally never sleep, oft called the New York of India, but then that is the way it starts for me. Donning on track pants and stepping out into the slight morning breeze actually rejuvenates the sleepy grey matter and the customary morning greeting to probably all the building watchmen actually kick starts your day in a weird little way. These greeting mean a lot to these people who their whole lives keep waiting on others and yet we more often than not tend to ignore them.

The mandatory Rs. 2 entrance fee at the gate of the joggers park gains entrance to a kilometer of short conversations. The conversations although short are interesting in a very sneaky kind of way. The conversations actually border on a variety of topics and then more often tend to lean a little towards the personal side as the weekend nears and gets very official on weekdays. Guess you must be wondering what is it that he’s talking about?

Every time you are about to cross a group of people you tend to be part of their conversations. Be it a couple of women in their thirties discussing the next salon they have appointments for or a couple of me in their fifties discussing on the latest merger or acquisition… The collage of these myriad conversations are usually too varied and different that each pair that you pass, it’s more like entering into a part of their lives for a minute or two.

Every day you get to hear a lot of the local gossip, the financial meetings scheduled and the personal problems of people. Coming to think of it the whole scene actually gives you an understanding into the kinds of things that people think. There was an interesting episode of a conversation between two middle aged women. One a career woman and her companion in her late forties. The career woman’s problem was that her son was complaining that she was never in the house when he is back from school and also that he wants her to be at home when he arrives. But the mother also has to think of her career tells him that it would be difficult for her to make it every day but she’ll try. The boy finally says that he will also stay back at friends’ place ad will return only after she has arrived back. This comment took the icing of the cake and the mother stopped staying back at work late and started bringing work back home as it would not only help her to spend time with her son but also that it would enable the son to understand that the mother actually cares about him…

Another interesting conversation to listen to is the decision making ones. The candid suggestion of the person you are walking with is analyzed more and more rigidly and by the end of the walk is over they have each found a solution to the problem. Then there is the usual saas-bahu conversations that are like all other saas-bahu conversations. The uniqueness of this banter is that each one is trying to better the image of her daughter-in-law in the eyes of the other. It’s not the usual complaints but interestingly the merit that are brought to light.

During a walk that takes an hour you come across several such topics and each one is unique in its style, content and context. In a city where you hardly have an interaction with your neighbor or further more have no idea who your neighbor is, such glimpses in to the lives of others actually tend to paint a very small but vivid picture. Portraits that is actually entertaining although they remain in the area of prying. But then I think they are the little pleasures that an insomniac is entitled to, just some candid conversations of fellow insomniacs.

Masked

A phone call the previous night from a very close friend warning me to get myself a mask before coming to Mumbai was not taken seriously. Well I did go enquire at some medical shops only to get turned down saying that they don’t have any masks available. Deciding to take a risk at Mumbai I board the flight and off I go.

Arriving at Mumbai I thought that the warning for a mask was just a joke but landing in Mumbai I actually see everyone wearing a mask and moving around or rather milling around doing their work. Stepping out of the airport and on my ride to my aunt’s place I witness more of such people with masks.

The funniest part was that the masks people were wearing were hilarious in itself… there were people with the original mask the one prescribed, the medical one described as a white H1N1 mask with a yellow opening, then there was the regular surgical masks marked by the traditional green color, then there were the white ones, women with their dupattas and the best one yet, people with a handkerchief around their mouths and noses…

I have since asked a dozen people on their take in the matter and it’s pretty interesting to hear that other people too concur with me, “hygiene is good but some people take it to ridiculous levels”. People keep wearing a handkerchief over their faces trying desperately to protect themselves against the deadly H1N1 virus. Every time I see a person with this over his nose and mouth I wonder hasn’t this person realized that the virus’ that plague our country are on steroids and that will just a hanky or a very flimsy surgical mask meant for maximum protection in a sterilized environment offer adequate protection?

Agreed that personal hygiene is something that will keep the virus at bay but the fact that anything goes to the prevention of getting infected is I think a very farfetched idea. Come to think of it people who actually did not exhibit any of the symptoms after a visit to a very well known hospital actually contracted the virus. Make you wonder is it any use to actually worry about the disease, or is it better to actually get along with our lives taking care of ourselves to the best of our abilities and stop worrying. After returning back from Mumbai and subsequently travelling from Coimbatore to Bangalore by bus provided me with another amusing incident. The guy supposed to be sitting next to me got onto the bus without a mask. After sitting down I notice he puts a dirty handkerchief over his face. The funny part was that the guy nodded off to sleep and after 10 minutes into his siesta the hanky comes undone and he is back to his unprotected state.

Well what use is the hanky now? Guess the other guy didn’t think so as he coolly put back the hanky after an hour of sleeping unprotected!

It sure is funny to see a hundred people in your immediate vicinity all masked up and going about their lives hardly ever noticing the huge gap that has formed in their protective masks… Masked, it sure is.

A tryst with a red dot…

Every big city is familiar to the small red dot that halts the ever busy residents in their cars and no matter what you are driving or what your bumper sticker proclaims you still gotta stand still. The minimum time usually sixty seconds and the maximum can go on to an hour if you are lucky. Many a times a lot of us get frustrated at the very thought of getting stuck in traffic, even I was in the same category but after a lot of such instances I have actually found that I enjoy getting stuck in traffic. Although there are a lot of alternate routes that allow you to cut through the city and negate these traffic signals off late I make it a point to get stuck in it just to watch the world go by.

The way in which a pedestrian crosses the road. Each person with an individual style and stride. Some purposeful, some hesitant, some frightened, some hurried, each person a story in itself. The way in which two wheelers try and squeeze into every available slot with the good intention of being the first across the signal but every once in a while being the cause of the traffic jam.

Stuck in traffic the other day I noticed several amusing things, the first being a young girl with a rag in hand running around and wiping the windshield of any dirt, well think she meant well when she went around doing this but one vehicle owner jumped out of his car as though it was on fire and stopped the girl from touching the windshield with the rag. Guess he must have been the only one sensible enough to understand the harm that would be done to his windshield if the girl wiped it with the cloth already soiled with dirt, grime and a little water. There was another owner who was pleading with the girl not to touch his car but then after the girl adamantly refuses to back off he unhappily parts with a couple of change. Immediately after these hysteric acts your eye gets drawn to another kid in the distance.

The reason why the kid catches your attention is that at a distance he looks very similar to an ape scratching his head while in his other hand he holds a torch and some sunglasses. The left hand over the head is very similar to the actions of King Louie putting a banana peel over Mowgli’s head in the al time classic Jungle Book. Watching him with rapt attention trying to figure out what on earth is this kid up to and suddenly out of no-where appears a couple of other kids mimicking the same action. As the kids draw nearer you see that the kids have in their hand and instrument that looks like a very crude egg beater. Attached to the handle are six thin metal strips, kind of like the one found on metal hair bands, very flexible and with a small round ball at the free end. When you do the up and down movements it basically satisfies two functions scratching and massaging your scalp! In a few seconds the kids move on repeating the motion and they are followed by another batch of two kids who sort of remind you of a walking book stall…

The kids walk past you looking at your eyes and facial expression trying to figure out if you are a prospective buyer. The reason is simple they have about 3 minutes to sell you an item that cost nearly a hundred rupees and wouldn’t want to waste time bargaining with you the whole time, while he can get business a few cars down. The books they have range from a wide variety of subjects. There’s gossip, there’s information, there’s real estate, there’s decorating, there’s ads and finally comics. The choice in titles although not too wide the titles well know and classy. Following the three minute marketing experts comes the lazy bunch you want to make a fast buck without having to move a muscle.

The beggars are the most frustrating of the whole lot. They actually bring down the whole excitement with their lack luster performance and age old ways of irritating you to the core till either you part with a coin or two or growl at them and in a deep baritone voice ask them to move on.

As all this is taking place you also have the icing on the cake the eunuch’s on their round of blessing and advising. Clapping their hand in their trademark way they come and stand next to your vehicle expecting nothing less than a fiver. Perchance you give them a couple of rupees you are in for a bargain session one that is bound to end up with you shelling out more. The reactions to these reincarnated people are all the more hilarious… People lift up their windows; some go past them in the hope of not wanting to explain or rather deny them money. Then there are people who eagerly await their arrival pay them money and get blessed. Many of my friends have several stories each one amusing in its own way and charm. One had his sunglasses taken away used for the short time the signal was red and then returned back, another one has made friends with a lot of eunuchs that they know his car by heart and then there is another who was too busy to attend to one that he showed his pocket they took some money blessed him and went on their way.

By now the traffic light has turned amber and in a few seconds the green light shines signaling the motorists that it is safe to start moving. Upon getting this signal the cars bikes, rickshaws, buses , cycles and lorries(mini vans) make a beeline for their destinations causing so much trouble and havoc that you often start to wonder whether common sense is ever common. The light is right on for three minutes but we in our hurry actually manage to extend it to hours.

Fluttering through the clouds...

(I must warn you that this is gonna be a pretty long blog and I don’t have the heart to split it into two. Hope you take the time out to read it and enjoy…)

A few kilometers from Dispur is this Junction called Khanapara. Driving for another 20 minutes from there you hit the Meghalaya border. Well initially you still aren’t hit with the realization that you have actually entered another state as the influence of Assam is still strong, as the Assam border is still not too far away. The roadside scenery changes from the dilapidated and unkempt government buildings, so much a part of the skyline of the Assamese capital, to the lush green paddy fields on terraced landscape and the ginger and turmeric cultivations. The roadside is now dotted with stalls selling pickles, a variety of them each mouthwatering, and meat, the predominant one being PORK!

As we near Shillong the capital city of Meghalaya I catch a glimpse of a very strange sight, a Maruthi 800 packed with over 10 people making its way up the curvy roads to the city. Well although initially shocked by the sight I was told by my friends, who by the way weren’t that amused by this, that this is a pretty common sight in shilling. Woah! Well that’s the only expression that’s came to mind at that juncture.

(Well I guess to us South Indians and a few North Indians this piece of information is equally shocking. If the general reaction to this piece of information is anything to go by. Down South I guess the Maruthi 800 has a much more revered position as opposed to a people carrier. Here it’s probably the first car 80 percent of the population buys as an upgrade to their college two wheelers in the case of college going students and the much needed upgrade to the scooters and fuel efficient bike of the common office goers.)

Since Shillong and the neighboring places are the only places I have been, I rather feel it comfortable to assume the rest of Meghalaya is of a similar geography. Hmmm… a generalization that I know is too much. Hitting Shillong is actually rejuvenating. Come to think of it, it is a place that’s calm, serene and not to tampered by the charms of commercialization. The last part in itself is enough to make any place on this earth charming.

The people of this little hamlet up in the Meghalayan Mountains too are a cheerful lot. Khasi women manned the majority of business as the Khasis are a very matrilineal tribe. The term is actually an unusual system for a person so used to hearing of the patriarchal system. Btw the youngest in the family is the one who in fact inherits the family businesses and she in fact has greater authority over the elder siblings in the family. Whew!

When it comes to the maintenance of the tourist spots of Shillong and nearby Chirapunjee, these people have it all sorted out by nature. Out of ten tourist attractions over seven are natural. Nature preserved means site preserved. A majority or rather every one of them has the local flavor in plenty, Water. Yeah I know you must keep asking what it is that I am saying well I mean waterfalls my friend. Every one scintillating in itself. Stand near a waterfall and if you listen really carefully you can actually listen to the music that is pouring forth. Each waterfall, regaling in beauty, a beauty that actually sings out to your soul. You can actually stand out there and feel yourself being washed over by a sense of calm.

Ever since I had heard about Chirapunjee being the wettest place on earth, with annual rainfall at levels that are the prayers of people in other agriculture predominant state, I wanted to visit the place. A documentary on the place and the people only made the place even more exciting and desirable. Driving up from Shillong and towards Chirapunjee we stop at the famed elephant falls and do a little bit of the touristy stuff, dressing up in Khasi attire and posing for the umpteen photo ops. As we near Chirapunjee the anticipation of rain and actually being there was rising to dangerous levels. Zipping past the open meadows and landscape dotted with a few Assam style architecture and a few broken buildings a scenery so much a picture of the landscape of Scotland.

Chirapunjee was disappointing in just one area. It was sunny! But the lack of rain made for several other interesting sights. The sights each one grand and added a mysticism to the place. The misty mountains forming valleys, valleys that in turn offered a spectacular view of the Bangladeshi Plains. Being a bright sunny day the view of the plains was all the more enthralling. Chirapunjee’s distinction of being the wettest place on earth is constantly being tossed back and forth with the neighbouring Mawsynram.

The beauty of the waterfalls and the lush greenery draped over mountains is only beaten by the mystery of the Mawsmai Caves. The Mawsmai Caves offers you a glimpse of the elaborate labyrinth of the several Limestone caves that dot the scenery. Entering into the caves the initial feeling is a claustrophobic one. One where the caves try to embrace you into its dark underbelly. The caves are basically divided into separate areas and each area is cordoned into varying sizes and shapes. The walls of the caves are molded into weird shapes and sizes and the all this by WATER. Yes water actually makes for a lot of the interesting sight around this place. Although the caves have its own mysticism and all the presence of the light bulb although casting a faint yellow glow, I think it could have been a bit more adventurous and romantic if had they given every individual a candle(of course not a very good idea since there is water dripping all round you, good for a competition though) or a torch. This would in fact allow for a lot more excitement and a sense of adventure.

As we headed back to Shillong we cross a vast expanse of grassland which on our way to Chirapunjee was empty. Now late in the evening the grassland was full and apparently it looked like an archery contest was in progress. Leaving it at that it took a walk through the streets of shillong to understand what the archery was all about. Apparently that’s the lottery in Meghalaya, the archers fire arrows from about 50 to 60 feet away into a gunny bag and the count of the arrows stuck on the bag is taken and submitted as the result. That’s an absolutely weird sport that I have had the pleasure to come across in the recent past.

The city of Shillong being an educational center it draws a large number of students from all over the northeast. This fine mix of the student population and the governing body of Meghalaya tends to lend this old capital of Assam an aura too difficult to describe with mere words. The pleasant population and the ever present chill in the air makes Sillong a place worth visiting. Its not just a place for people who want to get closer to nature but also a heaven for the shopaholics! Yes Shillong’s shopping district of Police Bazaar has it all. It’s a bargainer’s paradise, once you get used to the women business woman behind the counter. Sporting the traditional and comfortable two piece jainsem offered them an effortless grace and ease of movement. Well that’s just observation and will leave it at that for fear of sounding too gay.

Spending time in Shillong brings back a lot of memories I’ve had growing up in the hill stations down south but leaving Shillong only reminded me of the little time I spent with close friends and how it is times that you will never get again. With fondness and a heartfelt desire to return I must salute the mysticism that is Shillong with friends.

Men is the actor. Life is the stage.

Well I know what you are thinking… but this is the prelude to the following event.

The sun keeps playing hide and seek behind dark clouds not shining down brightly but offering glimpses of its majestic brilliance and grandeur, teasing, enlightening and spreading warmth. This game of hide and seek offers for a relatively comfortable drive and a very relaxed feeling. The strum of the guitar coupled with light drum beats and accompanied by a plethora of other musical instruments creates a very surreal environment in the car.

Zipping in and out of traffic making slow yet steady progress, sometimes frustrating, sometimes satisfaction, all this a part and parcel of highway driving. Joyous and peaceful keeping up a decent pace with time, kept thinking to myself woah, this is proceeding more smoothly than I thought.

Well talk of speaking too fast, just as I thought of that sentence did I get stuck behind an eitcher truck. Like all trucks found on the Indian highway this one too was no exception when it came to being grandly decked. Strikingly what caught the attention was not the usual Blow Horn inscription or the unusual ornaments hanging from every available hook, but the advice, “Men is the actor. Life is the Stage”.

Crawling behind this mammoth truck I couldn’t help but wonder in amazement at this statement. Leaving the truck behind and zooming down the highway and trying to get a place to overtake an ambassador car actually brought the little proverb read earlier back to life. Ahead of the car was this ambassador car swerving and pretty much taking up the whole road. Trying to overtake him only proved to be too dangerous and undertaking.

Coming to the conclusion I decide to trail this guy rather than try to be overly adventurous and stay a few car spaces behind him. Pretty sure he is going to do something amusing we watch patiently. The guy is driving too fast and swerving from side to side is not a very comfortable situation. My guess proved to be true when only after a couple of minutes he overtakes a maruthi van from the left and cuts in. Misjudging the speed of the van the ambassadors tail gate hits the maruthi vans front and the van shakes a bit, but continues on for a little while.

I was thnking to myself, man! people have become really tolerant and the absence of road rage impressive. But I guess I was wrong cause a little while later the van starts accelerating and chasing the car. I guess the people in the van were a little shook up over the whole incident that just took place and were regaining their bearings. Pretty soon the whole scene looked like a scene from a movie with one guy chasing the other and trying to flag the car, still swerving, by throwing water bottles and cutting off the highway. The people from the car get down and throw their wheel spanner at the ambassador and misses, guess the guy too was out of form like our cricket stars… this looses them precious time as the car cheats the road block and carries on, speeding to the next turn to their hometown before the van guys catch them. A couple of kilometers down the road they turn off and so does the maruthi van. Unfortunately I can only guess the after effect and not give a clearer picture as the scene got shifted into a village road nearby and we still had a long way to go.

But still the fun in actually getting to watch a thrilling action sequence which was very much in charater of the line,”MEN IS THE ACTOR. LIFE IS THE STAGE”.

One second friends

Friends the English dictionary defines as - A person you know well and regard with affection and trust.

Everyday in our life we encounter umpteen number of people many of them acquaintances and then there are a very few who actually fit into the description of, or rather carry the distinguished tabs called friends. There are a few people I know who can actually convert every acquaintance to a friend in no time and then there are a select few who actually take a hell of a long time to actually make a friend.

Although I can shyly claim to be a major player in the latter I must say I make hundreds of friends in a day. I meet them at the signal, I meet them at the market, I meet them at bus stops and I meet them on the road… Well I guess I must have riled you all to a great extent by now. You must be wondering how a guy who claims to constitute the latter half of the spectrum of friendship (taking really long to become friends) actually can claim to have hundreds of people thrust into the classification of friends.

Well not keeping you in suspense for much longer, all these people are my one second friends. Have you ever heard of them? Of course each one of us encounters such one second friends every living day of our lives. I too went along with a contented life not knowing exactly that I literally had millions of such friend until I was driving through the coffee plantations of coorg. My uncle and I were returning home when we noticed another jeep coming at us at speeds far exceeding the limit! The jeep kept closing in failing to slow down… it got closer and closer and closer… the closer it got the more nervous you get as the road is hardly wide enough to fit two jeeps and one of us have to go off road and not wanting to be the one to go into the dirt I stick to the road clambering very slowly ahead. The other jeep oblivious to any of these facts just speeds on towards us.

Driving around in cars most of the time you sometimes tend to forget that a jeep is more suited to the rugged terrain than an ordinary car, be it of any make. Wanting to preserve my tyres and in general the jeep I edge to the side of the road. By now the other jeep is manically hurdling towards us, obviously the other driver has thrown caution out the window. Awaiting patiently for the obvious to happen any second now I look out for options to get out of this mess. My brain processing the terrain and the several other calculations at speeds that would put a super computer to shame and also something that brought about an astonished look to my face.

Anytime now… 5sec, 4sec, 3sec, 2 sec… I didn’t need to get to 1! Whoooooshhhh, thud, thud, thud…

The other jeep was soon becoming a speck in my rear view mirror and to my horror I realized that I am driving on the edge of the road, certainly not something that is good for the vehicle and something that I had tried to avoid right from the beginning. A few seconds after the whole experience my uncle looks at me and asks what the hell was I trying to do. He calmly said that if you were so hell bent on saving the tyres why didn’t you just take it off the road. The tyres are made for exactly that kind of terrain. Not only that by staying on the road what have you gained nothing but a stream of obscenities shouted at you by the other driver.

It was then that I realized I had made a one second enemy. My uncle also went on to say that by going a little out of the way you actually ensure that you and the other vehicle have enough space to pass by comfortably and avoid having your day spoilt. That aside from the fact that you are never going to meet the other driver in the near future and it doesn’t hurt to be a courteous driver. This is what got me thinking that by being a bit courteous I actually make a one second friend.

Like the definition of a friend states that a friend is one who you know well and trust, my one minute friends are fellow drivers who I know well and trust to do the right thing so as to pass by without any incidents. So the next time you pass by another car do the right thing and if possible do something that you think is the best possible solution in the given situation without aggravating the other and you too have gained yourself a new ONE SECOND FRIEND…