Kaleidoscopic

Expressions

avinash matta
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reproduced without the permission of the author.

© Avinash Matta

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For my family & friends
 BOOK MAP

SECTION I – SHORT STORIES

An Encounter With Pain

My Living God
My Son's new Friend
A child's sexnnocence
A Dark Awakening
I don't know what Love Is
My Bus is Taller
Asoka weds Bauhinia
I too don't know what Love Is
Pizza, Puff and Popcorn

SECTION II – POEMS, ARTICLES,

REVIEWS

Let Me Dance
1990 Love Calling
Dancing on the lonely beach
Fail to Succeed
We all have been successful
An actor's biography
Random Bits of Futuristic News
The Great Boot Polish Competition of 1958
SECTION I

SHORT
STORIES
 AN
ENCOUNTER
WITH PAIN
“Drive very slowly and carefully, he is suffering from severe
stomach pain. Drive very very slowly,” the auto driver was
instructed. In India, there is a need to caution auto drivers on
their speed. They love to drive their rickshaw as if the road
belonged to their forefathers. Thankfully, this driver took
notice of the patient and drove slowly with care. He honked
the horn frequently to signal the commuters to give way. He
halted at a point to find out where the nearest hospital was
and rushed towards the direction shown.

Three young guys stepped down the rickshaw with id cards

hanging over their chest indicating they were from a software
company. One of them (in the centre) was the blessed soul to
have pain in his stomach, he couldn’t walk or even talk, all he
could do was twist his facial muscles and press his lips hard
to express his pain. He was made to lie down on his stomach
on a bed with the typical ‘hospital green’ sheet on it. A nurse
appeared from nowhere, removed his pants and injected a
needle into his buttocks. He roared out with pain. As if the
pain in his stomach wasn’t enough, he was gifted with a new
pain.

‘Pain kills pain’, this saying might be quite true because

slowly his stomach pain started disappearing. The pain killer
proved lucky for him. He wondered how a pain killer gave him
additional pain to reduce the actual pain. He came out of the
room limping and was made to wait in the lounge until the
doctor was free to attend him. Small, young and tiny kids
started to stare at him from different parts of the room. They
all wondered and were taken aback to see this young adult
amidst them. Some of them laughed at him while some of
them gave a surprised look. He lifted his head in total
confusion to find a board which read :

R R. Children’s Hospital
He was 22 years old which means he was eligible for
marriage and have kids of his own, yet he had been brought
to a children’s hospital for a silly pain in his stomach. ‘Was
there no other hospital which could attend to his pain?’ he
wondered. Unfortunately, NO! This was the nearest one
considering the severity of his pain and the terror which
gripped his colleagues.

Waiting to be called by the doctor, he started recollecting how

it had all begun. He could recollect the sandwich he bought
for Rs.10/- in the canteen and his project deadline he had to
meet within a few days. The sandwich tasted good not
because of the butter, tomato, cucumber or pepper in it but
because of the unbearable hunger he had. No sooner than he
finished eating that stuff between two bread slices, a sudden
pain emerged from his abdomen till his lower chest. He was
drenched with sweat even though the AC temperature was
quite low. His colleagues came to his assistance and helped
him walk out. Soon, he was surrounded by tension gripped
faces as they stared at him in total dismay. He could not
recollect clearly who all were there but yes, there was one
pretty face which caught the attention of his eye. He looked at
her but she turned away from him. She too was scared and
horrified to look at him. He could see her worry, her inability to
face him and her sensitivity towards him. He could also see
her silky hair, dark brown eyes and glowing marble like face.
She knew he had a crush on him. He knew that she knew he
had a crush on him. Yet, they never spoke a word to each
other.

The image of his lady love was soon shattered as he was

called in for an X-Ray. The nurse gave him a thin dhoti and
told him to remove every other piece of clothing on his body.
The nurse was good looking, not that bad though. He knew
that he had always wished to strip himself in front of a
beautiful girl. But, unfortunately, the time wasn’t in favor of
him.
The x-ray was taken and it was put up in front of him
illuminated by a tube light. “Food poisoning, Diarrhea,
Intestine infection could be some of the possibilities”, the
doctor remarked in a typical malayali accent of English. It
sounded as though a dark green frog was speaking from
underneath a bore well. “We need to take a blood test and
you will have to be admitted here for the rest two days”, he
continued.

My mouth was wide open in total shock. I couldn’t believe the

frog’s voice. Yes, it was me who was suffering from stomach
pain and you who were reading my story. I chose to write it in
third person till now so that I could experience a world
exterior to me. But, when I heard the words “admitted” I
regained my lost senses and here I am in front of this
confused doctor who is unclear about my X-Ray and wants
me to stay back in his hospital for two days!

A nurse came in with a bundle of injections and started to

unwrap them. She put two of them consecutively into my
body and I held my friend’s hand tightly as I cried with pain. A
series of tablets followed and soon I felt asleep in my friend’s
lap.

The doctor had his words true and I was admitted to a

hospital, thankfully not his. I was admitted to another hospital
near to my room. Needles, injections, antibiotics and dark
green curtains formed a part of my new world in the ward. I
was bound to a pole with a tube carrying out a liquid chemical
drop by drop and it was being injected to a vein in my left
hand. There could not have been a place worse than this to
spend the next few days.

Pricks of needles, cries of other patients and heaps of

medicines added to the sorrow. I could not entertain the sight
of an unknown and strange liquid entering my body at a pace
slower than that of a tortoise.
I felt as though everything was ruined – food that had no salt
in it, bathroom which was full of filth, medicines and
injections, repeated warnings from the doctor to take care
and added to that his poking English accent. I stared at every
drop which fell from that tube which produced a tear in my
eyes. I stared at the curtain for a long time and wondered why
it had to be dark green in color. It reminded me of the frog in
the well and the doctor’s english. Why is it that malayalis
tamper with English? Why is it that the curtains and bed
sheets used in a hospital are dark green? Why not cool blue,
tangy orange or serene white? Why is that a doctor’s
handwriting on the prescription is understood only by a
pharmacist.

Thoughts came in and went out of my mind rapidly. They

hissed around like a snake and I started feeling terrible. I
could not spend any more hours in that hospital ward. I could
not accept the pain which they gave only to prevent any
further pain. I requested to be released from there quite a few
time but all in vain. You can’t argue with a doctor, they are
always right.

“Nurses here are quite sexy dude”, a young and handsome

guy outside the ward remarked. I turned my face to find my
friends sighting at nurses. I reminded them that though the
nurse was sexy, unfortunately we had to call them ‘sisters’. I
know how sad it feels to call a beautiful girl ‘sister’, but that’s
how we address them in a hospital. We all sat down and
started remembering those days when we were forced to take
a pledge in our schooldays that ‘All Indians are my brothers
and sisters.’ Wasn’t it unfair to make us pledge in front of
everyone and declare it publicly that every other Indian girl
was a sister? We recollected how we used to say ‘All Indians
are my brothers and sisters’ and then secretly repeat to
ourselves ‘except one’. And that ‘one’ kept changing as time
passed by. We laughed, cracked a few jokes on each other’s
so called sisters and had a gala time.
I turned around and stared at the dark green curtains again,
but this time I don’t know why I was not angry or frustrated to
look at it. Instead, I touched it, stroked my fingers over it as if
I were playing a piano. I turned around to look at the tube
hanging from the pole to which I was bound. I looked again at
those drops which fell one by one. I was surprised that I did
not feel dejected to look t them, but instead they reminded me
of the rain drops. I looked around at other patients in my
ward, one of them, an old lady in her sixties smiled at me and
smiled back. I wondered for long as to what had happened to
me all of a sudden.

Why was I not frustrated or angry on the doctor? Why was I

not dejected that I was in a hospital? Why was I not feeling
painful this time? Was it true that pain lead to pleasure? I had
read it in some book but never experienced it before. But, I
could feel a lot of pleasure and I could see the beauty around
me. I was smiling and cherishing every moment. Probably, it
was true that pleasure had to follow pain, it was a universal
law. We all experience pain and pleasure in life but we have
never taken time to observe the equation between them.
Every pain lead to a pleasure and every pleasure was again
followed by a pain. It was a circle with no beginning or end.
But, this equation had to have a catalyst. Otherwise, how
could I feel joy all of a sudden and rejoice my presence in that
hospital room which I hated terribly in the beginning.

I looked around in wonder and I guess I found my answer - I

could see my friends laughing and playing with each other.
Yes, pain gave me pleasure and my friends were the
catalysts to it. The pain of a needle pricking my delicate vein
gave me the pleasure of holding my friend’s hand and feeling
his love for me. The pain of injections entering my body gave
me the pleasure of sleeping in my friend’s lap like a baby in a
mother’s lap. The pain of being forced to stay in the hospital
gave me the pleasure of rejoicing with my friends and
recollecting our school days.
All these pains were transformed to pleasures and that was
the reason I started smiling. That was the reason I played
around with the curtains and was reminded of rain drops.

Friends transform your pains to pleasures and let them never

come back. Blessed are those souls who have taken the
voyage of friendship and blessed am I to have friends who
have changed the way I lived those two days.

Back to Book Map

~~~~~~~~
 MY
LIVING
GOD
I stood there absolutely clueless, my mind had

gone blank, all I could see there was emptiness.

I was wearing a black gown, longer than my
height, my black scarf flying behind my neck,
the bed sheet was black and so were the floor
and the ceiling. Nothing else existed. All my
eyes could see was black, the whole world had
turned black, from my room to the horizon. I
wondered what had gone wrong, I was tensed,
worried and nervous. I was desperately
searching for someone but my search ended in
vain. It yielded no visible result. The world
around me still remained black. And then there
was a loud noise, as if someone was ringing
bells. I looked around but couldn't find
anyone. The noise was piercing, a thousand
bells were ringing together and I heard
someone calling my name...
I opened my eyes and saw the fan above me rotating at a
medium speed and my cell beside my ear was buzzing the
morning alarm. I put it off and got up with some loss of sense.
The dream I had seen was still fresh in my mind, the black
dream. Why did I get such dreams so often? And that too with
varying colors? I had seen the same dream earlier but in
flaring red and this time it was in dark black. What do colors
in dreams mean? And why was I alone in my dream
desperately searching for something?

It was 10.00 am! I was late again, I rushed to my office after

taking a brief bath and breakfast. There was a new
assignment waiting for me, 'Flossy Aussie' , an Australian
mocktail which I had to design for a photo shoot. I am Riaa, a
food designer by profession and the extra 'a' in my name is
not due to numerology but just because I like it. I work to
design foods and beverages. Remember the last time you
had gone to a restaurant, impressed by looking at a dish on
the menu, ordered it and found it to be not as good looking as
in the menu and felt cheated. Thanks to me! I am the one
who designs foods to make them look good and then get
them photographed for menu cards and advertisements
purpose. It is just ironic that the same dish doesn't look as
good when you eat it. And my latest assignment is an
Australian mocktail called 'Flossy Aussie' made from Kiwi and
Lemon.

I reached the studio (as usual , late) and began my work on

my new assignment. I picked up a cocktail glass (the one with
a cone shaped bowl) and began decorating it with glowing
stickers of dew. I painted it with light strokes of lemon green. I
picked two solid ice cubes and placed them in the glass
making them float. I struck a slice of kiwi on the brim of the
glass and then sprayed some freezing water on it. I decorated
the artificial drink with mint leaves to complete the look. For
variants of the drink, I used different colors like pink orange,
strawberry red and icy blue.
Colors were an integral part of my life, work and these days,
dreams. The horrifying dream I had seen in the morning
flashed across again. I thought I needed some consultancy
on this. I knew a few people who could interpret dreams.

He had long gray hair, round spectacles and he wore a long

black & red robe. Coincidentally, I had seen the dream once
in red and once in black.

“Dreams are images of your emotions, desires and thoughts.

They signify what your inner subconscious thinks of you. It is
your own reflection”, he said making some powerful gestures
with his hands.

“But I never thought of something like this, then why do I see

the same dream so often?”

“Your unfulfilled search for happiness brings you this dream

every night. Your quest for peace makes you desperately
search for something in the dream. And the colors represent
your anguish over them. You saw the dream in red initially
which signifies the burning desire and passion in you to seek
peace and then you saw it in black which is a result of your
failure to seek peace.”

“But why is it that I have become so desperate for happiness

and peace all of a sudden? I mean, it was always there in my
life.”

“Personal disturbances in life or maybe some broken

relations”

“But how do I put an end to these horrifying dreams?”

“By mending those broken relations.”

I left that place with my mind lost in thought. It was true that I
was seeking for happiness in my personal life. But maybe I
had failed and my struggle was showing in my dreams.
Something was missing, something was shallow in my life.
And I faintly remember, all these disturbances began with me
the day I fought with my mother.

“Her father left for his heavenly abode when Ria was 3 years
old”, my mother would tell her friends about how she had
brought me up single handedly. It had become a routine story
now. I don't know why she liked doing that always, boasting
about her courage in front of her friends. We started fighting
when she was planning to get me married. I was totally
against it. I wanted to stay with my mom. There was no need
for me to get married, I was an independent woman earning
good money. But, my mom was adamant. I would ask her
why she wanted me to kick me out of the house but she
would say this is for my welfare. I would never understand.
And since that feud, my life has been disturbing.

My next assignment was an Italian pasta made from fussili*. I

used black olives, mushrooms and tomatoes to give it the
saucy and spicy look. I painted the fussili parched yellow and
the mushrooms dark brown. I mixed some noodles and
vermicelli in between as the filling.

I used mint leaves for the seasoning. I used melted cheese

for the topping and sprinkled some pepper on it. And as
usual, people loved the look. They appreciated my hard work
and dedication. I was happy that my work was being
recognized now. It added to my confidence.
* - fussili is the twisted version of the pasta other than sphagetti & macroni.
I stood there absolutely clueless, my mind had
gone blank, all I could see there was emptiness.
I was wearing a silk purple top with an olive
green skirt, my blue scarf flying behind my
neck, the bed sheet was gold, the curtains in
silver, a white sky and blue walls. Nothing else
existed. All my eyes could see was empty space,
from my room to the horizon. I wondered how I
had landed in such a mysterious place, I was
curious, excited and amused. I was desperately
searching for someone but my search ended in
vain. It yielded no visible result. I held up my
arms and embraced the breeze. I was smiling
slightly. I picked up the golden bed sheet and
whirled it across in the air. I stood near the
window and stared at the eternal empty space
outside. A strange force pushed me back on my
bed...
How did those colors fill my dream this time? Earlier it was all
red, then all black and now so many varied hues? I was
confused, red signified the passion, black signified the
darkness but what did golden, green, purple and blue had to
tell? Maybe it was time to consult the dream interpreter again.

“It is your awareness and the fact that you have realized that
your dream is trying to talk to you”, he replied, “The golden
bed sheet tells you your interest in dreams, the purple and
green outfit of yours represents confidence and the blue walls
is a sign of incoming peace. You are soon going to conquer
those disturbances in your personal life”

I thanked him, payed him his fees and went back to office to
resume my work. I kept those dreams, the meanings and
questions aside for some time. But, I couldn't part with colors.
We had to design an entire menu for Gelato, an ice cream
brand and we had to show the different varieties of flavors
they offered in the market. From strawberry cheesecake to
ferrero rocher, belgian dark chocolate and blueberry. We had
to use a bright palette of colors to make them look lip-
smacking and arousing. I loved doing the strawberry one, we
used real strawberries ( I ate some of them also) and reddish
pink shades.

My colleague reminded me of my upcoming birthday. I had

totally forgotten about it. I was excited, it was going to be the
rd
23 successful year of my life. And I had decided to throw a
party at The Bamboos.
I wished if this birthday would be peaceful, without absurd
dreams. I wanted to end this disturbance in my life. And
without my awareness, I had started talking to God expecting
answers to some of my questions. I looked at the potrait of
Ganesha in my room and asked Him to help me. I pleaded
him to come to my room and to talk to me. I know I was being
crazy but I had to, I couldn't think of something else. I pleaded
if God would come to my room on my birthday exactly at
12.00 am and liberate me.

I tried to meditate as I sat in my room waiting for the clock to

strike 12. But, it was difficult to close your eyes and
concentrate on nothing. I woke up and tried to recall the
dream with those different colors. I wondered if I was acting
stupid. I mean, how could God come and meet me in my
room? It was sounding ridiculous. But, I waited. One of my
colleagues called up at 10 to 12 and started wishing me an
advanced happy birthday. I thanked him and I invited him to
my party the next day.

I finally decided to sleep but then the door opened, I pressed

a button on my phone to check the time and it showed 00:00.
A lady appeared wearing a gown, she came near me, took
my face in her hand, kissed me on my head and wished me a
happy birthday. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I lay there in
her arms. She was my mother. Someone had rightly said,
God couldn't be present everywhere, so he made mothers.
God had answered my prayers. He came that night in the
form of my mother, my living God. I dreamed again that night.
I stood there with my arms open embracing the
breeze. I was wearing a white gown, longer
than my height, my white scarf flying behind
my neck, the bed sheet was white and so were
the curtains, walls and the sky. Nothing else
existed. All my eyes could see was empty space,
from my room to the horizon. I was happy as if
in bliss, totally at peace with myself. I was
smiling slightly. I picked up the white bed sheet
and whirled it across in the air. I stood near
the window and stared at the eternal empty
space outside. A lady appeared from nowhere
and embraced me in her arms. I could see
divine light in her...

Back to Book Map

~~~~~~~~
 MY
SON'S
NEW
FRIEND
My son was very adamant that he wanted to join the same
school where I had my education from. I explained to him that
times have changed, my school isn't fit enough to give him
quality training, it has become old now, there are many other
new schools with better facilities. But, he would just not listen.
Surrendering to his demands I took him to my school. I was
excited to be back at school after so long.

My son loved the road which ran from the tall gate to the main
building. I told him how I used to win running races with my
friends on that road. I showed him the 100 year old peepul-
neem tree which still stood strongly at the center of the school
ground. There were two basketball courts each on either side
of the tree, one football court on it's south and one volleyball
court on it's north. The Buddha on the building top still smiled
with the same radiance but his clothes had become too old.
The flag post in front of the building reminded me of those
long days of national festival celebrations. The whole class
would come together to decorate the classroom in tricolors.
We also used to have competitions amongst us as to which
section would decorate the best. C section would always win
and we used to throw a party for ourselves at the canteen.

As we entered the main building, more memories flashed

across my mind – of those days, the magic, the friendship,
the fun. I insisted that first we go to my classroom, spend
some time there and later go to the office for my son's
admission.

“46”

“Yes Ma'm”, I stood up.

“Why were you absent yesterday, Harish?”, the teacher asked.

“Madam, I was....”, I knew I would be caught and I couldn't tell
her the truth that I had gone to see Hum Aapke hain Kaun for
the fifth time , “.....suffering from fever”.

“Fever? Just for one day? Where did it disappear today?”, she
asked aware of my lie. The whole class laughed, they too
knew. I gave an angry look to Suresh, he was also with me
yesterday, what makes him laugh now?

“Madam, I took crocin, the fever went away madam”, I

replied.

“Huh?! Sit Down”, she shouted, “47”

“Yes Ma'm”, Suresh stood up.
“Did you also get fever yesterday??”

I looked at him, what would he say now? I had already made

the fever excuse, he won't say something as silly as a
headache or stomach ache and the teacher would scold him,
serves him right!

“Madam, yesterday while I was coming to the school” he said

in a pitiful tone, “I saw a blind man who met with an accident.
He had injured himself very badly. There was no one to help
him madam. So, I took him in an auto to the hospital and I
was there till late evening. So, I couldn't come, Sorry madam”

Liaaaaaaaar!!! But, the teacher did not think so. She was like
molten wax. She too gave him pitiful looks and appreciated
his noble work.

“Ek din tu pitega saaley”, I told him angrily. He giggled. He

would always outwit me. But, even I wasn't less, I would
always beat him in the running race.

“Finished? Shall we go now dad, please?” My son requested.

He was tired of me going through the classroom several
times and sitting on my bench and getting lost in my
memories. But, I was loving it. I asked him to wait for some
more time.

The whole class came alive as I sat on my place, I could see

my classmates chattering in the break time, giggling, making
fun of each other, boys cracking adult jokes and girls giving
them a deaf ear and amongst all these I could see Lakshmi.
She was laughing at the joke I had cracked on a Sardar. She
loved them and I loved her. But, the love never blossomed, it
just remained as a crush. Wonder, where she must be now.

“Papa, please, let's go now. I am getting bored here”.

“Ok”, I surrendered to his demands again. As we went back to
the office room at the ground floor, I could see all those
events happen again, my experiment in the chemical lab, my
fight with suresh in the corridor, the skeleton in the biology
lab, when the school sang birthday wishes for me, when I
won the cup for a writing contest etc.

We registered in the office and waited for my son to be called

by the new Principal. The principal sir during my time was a
very nice person. When I offered my birthday sweets to him,
the first thing he had asked me was if I had done anything for
under privileged children. I replied No. He said birthday was a
very auspicious day and I should donate some money for
welfare of other children on account of this day. I agreed.
Even my hindi teacher would say the same thing. She would
insist that we help other under privileged children.

Mrs. Radhika, my english teacher noticed me sitting outside

the Principal's office with my son. She recognized me at
once. I felt so happy to see her. She had grown a bit old and
wore spectacles now.
“Oh! Harish, you've grown so big, he is your son?”, she asked
pointing to the young Harish.
“Yes ma'm”, I replied.

“He is so much like you, your duplicate”, she said pulling my

son's cheeks.

“Good morning ma'm”,my son wished her with excitement.

“Good morning dear, so you have come to join this school.”

“Yes madam, I also want to study here and then become like
my dad one day”, he replied.

“That's very nice.”, she pulled his cheeks again and turned to
me “So Harish, hmm...you married and did not even invite
us?”, she said.

“Ma'm.......actually.......”, I stammered not knowing what to do.

“It's ok, don't think so hard for an excuse now, I was kidding”,
she said laughing. I laughed too.

“I still remember your performance on the annual day, you

were wonderful”, she remarked.

“Thank you madam.”

“I am very happy to see you again after so many years”

“Same here ma'm, It feels so good to be here.”

“Do you want me to recommend your son's name to the

Principal?”

“No ma'm, I think he would get the seat on his merit.”

“Ok. All the best”, she pulled his cheeks again, “Do meet me
before you leave, I am in the ground floor staff room”
“Of course ma'm, I will definitely come and meet you.”

“Papa, she pulls my cheeks so many times!!”, he shouted,

“Was she your hindi teacher?”

“No beta, she was my english teacher.”

“Shit! Lathakumari ma'm is coming, she is going to take this

period”, Lakshmi came into the class announcing the bad
news.
“Oh! No yaar, not again. She is so pakau”, I said.
“But, this was supposed to be the science class naa?”, suresh
asked
“Yes, but I guess she must have asked for this class to
complete the portion”, Lakshmi replied

This would happen every year, Lathakumari Ma'm, our Hindi

teacher, would while away the time telling stories and then as
exams would near, she would take extra classes. And her
stories are just so boring. We would panic every time she
would take an extra class because they would have extra
stories.

“In 1977, when I was 25 years old....”, she would begin and
tell us about her acts of bravery in her village. We would
pretend as if we were listening to her and silently do
something else. Amit would listen to his walkman in the last
bench, Bhargav and Kumar would have the fashion
magazines under their desk, I would play Bingo with Lakshmi
and Suresh would make drawings. Suresh was very good at
his hindi which made him Lathakumari's pet. She would
always center him in the class, ask him questions, tell him to
read the poetry loudly and we would silently giggle at him.
It's been more than 10 years now, I wonder where all those
people are now. How would they be, what would they be
doing? Amit would have become a cardiologist like his father,
Kumar might have joined politics and Suresh? I don't know
where he is.

“Papa, why is it taking so long? How long we'll have to wait”,

my restless son brought me back to the present.

“Beta, you should be patient. If you want admission, then you

must wait. Till then, you can go through the school, go out in
the playground and spend some time.”, I suggested as he got
up to go out. “But, come back soon”

I sat there feeling guilty for not being in contact with my

school friends. I wish I could meet them, talk to them
sometimes. Schooldays were so much fun and full of life. I
saw Lathakumari ma'm walking towards the office. But, this
time I did not panic, I was delighted. I was desperate to listen
to her stories now. I wanted her to share her life experiences
with me so that I could experience the magic of those days
again. I was happy that she was still working in this school
and I got a chance to meet her. I wanted to use this
opportunity so that I could make up for all those harsh teases
we made behind her back. As she came near me, I waited for
her to look in my direction, but her head was bent down. Her
face did not carry that smile which she used to wear in the
classrooms. She had turned lean and grew very old,
somewhere in her late 50s. She seemed to be lost
somewhere in her thoughts. She walked past me without
noticing anything around her and went straight into the office.
I waited outside desperately for her to come out.

“Good Morning Ma'm, recognized me?”, I approached her as

soon as she came out. She looked at me, adjusted her old
spectacles and tried very hard to re-collect.

“I am Harish, '96 pass out, remember me?”, I asked again

desperately trying to make her remember.

She tried hard but did not seem to come any closer. I could
see the wrinkles curl up on her face as she stared at me. Her
face seemed to be torn apart by them. It was as if she wasn't
the same old energetic and talkative woman in her life, it
showed on her withered face. I was not happy to find her in
such condition.

“I am sorry, I don't know who you are”, she said softly, “You
might have been one of my students, but please do not feel
bad that I am unable to identify you. I think I have grown too
old to remember now”

I was dejected. I felt bad that I couldn't make her remember

myself. I regretted for criticizing her during school days, for
scolding her behind her back, for cracking stupid jokes on
her. I felt like hitting myself for that.

“Are you the Harish from Amit's batch who is Dr. Ramesh's
son?”, she asked suddenly.

“Yes, I am the Harish from Amit's batch, did you recognize me

ma'm?”, I asked delighted. Amit was Dr. Ramesh's son, who
was a famous cardiologist in the town, and so every teacher
knew Amit.

“Oh! I am so sorry, I couldn't recognize you initially. How are

you dear?”, she asked

“That's ok Ma'm. I am fine. It's been so many years, how are

you ma'm?”

“Well......I am fine beta”, she sighed, “I am contented with

what Almighty has given me. I never complained or
demanded anything from him. Yes, It has beens so many
years and things have changed a lot. Those days were so
beautiful”

She seemed to be lost in her own thoughts. I don't know why

she spoke like that with some sense of remorse. As if life had
not treated her properly.

“So, what are you doing these days?”, she asked coming
back from her thoughts

“I am into garment business”

“Oh! Good good. That is very nice. So, how come you
remembered this old lady after so long?”

“Actually, I had come here to get my son an admission”, I

replied with a sense of guilt. I did not want to tell her that I
had come here not remembering her but because of my own
selfish reasons.

“Your son? You married? Where is he? Oh my God, I can't

believe, time has passed by so fast”

“Yes, time has passed so fast.”, I sighed “My son has gone
outside to see the playground”

“Good good. So you want him to study from the school you
studied from? Why not send him to a better school, haa?”

“Actually, he wants to study from here, he insisted and I

couldn't say No.”

“Oh! Ok. Good good. Anyways, I have to leave now. Wish

your son all the best.”

“Sure ma'm, thanks”

“ And keep visiting this old lady sometimes, it feels good.”

“Definitely ma'm, I would come regularly now to meet you”

“Good good. Take care.”, and she left.

I felt so happy that I could make her smile, I could bring her
back the memories I was enjoying. And this time I did not
mock at her or tease her behind her back. It felt good.

My son was finally called for his admission and there was a
short interview. I made it a point that I don't reveal to the
Principal that I belonged to the same school. I wanted my son
to get this seat purely on his merit and that was the condition
I had set for him. He worked pretty hard for this day and his
hard work paid off. He was selected and I couldn't be happier
than this.

We went to meet Mrs. Radhika and break the good news to

her. She felt happy and pulled my son's cheeks again.
However old teachers might become but their habits never
change and their love never decreases. They have the same
warmth and love for us. I told Radhika Ma'm how I had felt so
happy today after being to the school so many years later. I
told her that I had met Lathakumari Ma'm and then I faced the
truth.

“Life has treated Latha very badly, that is why she has
become like that. Since her husband passed away a few
years ago things are not going fine for her. Her son has
turned into a drunkard and drowns all her hard earned money
into liquor. Her daughter-in-law helps ends meet by selling
some hand made items. But, that is just enough to feed them.
She wants to educate her grandson but is unable to support
him. And as you know, this school isn't doing that well, there
is so much competition in the market, so the authorities didn't
accept for her grandson to be admitted here on scholarship
basis. Look what times have come, a teacher is unable to get
education for her own child.”, Radhika Ma'm said.

I did not knew how to respond to what I just heard. The

teacher who treated us like her own children, who gave us
knowledge inspite of we hating her, is facing such bad times
in her life. I asked Radhika Ma'm if I could offer any monetary
help. Last month, all the teachers of the school had come
together and collected some funds for her but she refused to
accept them. So, she would not accept them from me either. I
wondered what could be done.

I never felt so helpless before. I was happy that my son had

joined my school but it was overcome by the grief which
struck me. I felt very bad for Lathakumari Ma'm. I don't know
why God treated her so badly. What harm she did to anyone?
I wish I could do something for her, somehow I could repay
her at least the love she had showered on me.

Few days passed by and my son started loving his new

school. He would come to me everyday and tell me what all
things he learned at school. I would occasionally learn from
him how one could use the internet and that is when I met
orkut. It is a good site where you could make new friends and
trace old ones. It helped me find Suresh. I thought it couldn't
get better than this.

He has changed so much. His hair is gone, he has a

daughter and I joked that my son would marry her one day.
We sat for long hours and recollected those days and that
mischief. I told him about my day at school and about
Radhika Ma'm, Lathakumari Ma'm. He too felt bad and like
me, wanted to do something to help her. He told me that
apart from his regular job, he worked in an NGO which
worked for educating under privileged children.

I remember how Lathakumari Ma'm used to encourage us to

donate money to NGOs and other foundations. She herself
used to donate some money every month to them. I asked
Suresh if his NGO could help Lathakumari Ma'm get
education for her grandson. He said it is possible but then I
thought if Ma'm would refuse to accept their help the way she
rejected other teachers. I and suresh consulted Radhika
Ma'm and she suggested that we send someone from the
NGO to approach Lathakumari Ma'm and tell her that all the
money she used to donate during those days can be now
used for her grandson's education. We liked the idea and we
felt happy.

A few days later...

“Papa.....”, my son came running to me, “You know what? I

made a new friend today in school. His name is Pavan”

“Very good, that's nice”, I congratulated him for his new

friend.

“And you know what? He is the grandson of your hindi

teacher.”

My son's new friend was my hindi teacher's grandson. I was

happy that I could, in some small way, repay my teacher in
return of all that love and knowledge she gave me. Suresh
was also very happy. We traced out quite a few other friends
and had a grand re-union party with some of our teachers. As
I kept making old friends, my son made new ones.

Back to Book Map

~~~~~~~~
 A
CHILD'S
SEXNNOCENCE
Chunnu and Munnu sat down at a table in their classroom
and started swinging their legs. The class was over, their
classmates had gone, the teacher was in her staff room, but
chunnu & munnu preferred staying back because their driver
had not yet come to pick them. The blackboard still had those
beautiful drawings which their blind drawing teacher had
drawn. The whole class was amazed at the imagination and
talent a blind person could have.

“Chunnu, my chacha chachi came back from their

honeymoon yeshterday. And they bought a cricket set for
you”, munnu said in that particular style in which children drag
each word, pause unnecessarily and pronounce words softly.

“Oh! Wow, now I can play cricket eberyday now”, chunnu

reacted with his eyes glowing, “Your chacha chachi are so
chweet”

“I know”, munnu replied.

Chunnu & Munnu were not brothers, which often many

people mistook as, they were good friends. They lived in
houses opposite to each other (so I really don't know if they
can be called neighbors), which is their root cause of
friendship.

“But munnu, why did they go so far to agra for honeymoon?”,

chunnu innocently asked.

“Arey, agra has Taj Mahal naa, the shymbol of love, that is
why. My chacha took my chachi there to prove how much he
loved her”

“Oh!, but my mummy daddy had gone for their honeymoon to

manali. And maybe that is why my dad doesnt love her and
they keep fighting.”
“Tell them to go to agra for a second honeymoon”, munnu
giggled

“Arey mental, honeymoon can be done only once. Don't you

know that?”, chunnu said.

“Who says that? You are still so small, you don't know.
Honeymoon can be done any number of times anywhere”

“No idiot. You don't know. It is done only once after marriage
and it is done to acquire children like us”, chunnu replied.

“Oh my God! You are so innocent, you dont know anything.

You dont even know what is honeymoon!”

“ I know”, chunnu shouted, “both husband and wife pray to

God to send a small child into the wife's stomach”

“Heha ha hah ho....” Munnu laughed out very loud holding his
stomach. He couldn't just stop. Chunnu remained confused
as though what had happened. And what was so wrong with
what he said.

“Why do you laugh? Is it not correct what I said? But that is

what I knew about honeymoon. Because I had seen my
grandfather seeing Mughal-e-Azam and in that, Akbar and
his wife go to fakirs and pray to give them children”

Munnu laughed even harder. He fell down the table and rolled
on the floor laughing. It took quite a long time for him to stop
and for chunnu to ask him again the reason behind his laugh.

“Oh God, chunnu , you are so stupid, you dont know

anything, you need to grow up. You really dont know
anything”
'Then why dont you tell me munnu?”
“No, I cant tell you all that.”
“Please tell me naa, even I want to learn, I want to grow up
and become big”

“Offo, Ok I will tell you. But, I will tell you only what I know
about it. Listen, after a boy & girl get married, they go far
away where there is no disturbance. And they both sit in a
room and remove each other's clothes.”
Chunnu's jaw dropped at listening the last line.

“What?! But, why do they do that?”

“Hmm..... I dont know.....”, munnu replied
“Then? After that?”
“I dont know that too. I told you naa I will tell you only what I
know and this is the only thing I know”
“Huh?! Stupid, even you dont know anything!,” chunnu
grumbled.
“Idiot, but atleast I know it is not about praying to God”
“Then what is it all about?”
“Hmm.... I dont know exactly but something related to us only.
Both of them try to grow children somehow. “
“But how?”
“What do I know?”

Both of them sat down puzzled as to what happens in a

honeymoon? They kept thinking and wondering what people
do and how suddenly after honeymoon, there is a small child
in the woman's stomach.

“Hey! I know. I know what they do!”, chunnu shouted jumping

down from the table as if Archemdes had said 'Eureka'.

“What?? tell naa ...what? What?”, munnu asked out of sheer

curiosity.

“Wait. Wait. I will tell you. Dont get excited. After removing
each other's clothes, both of them sit on the bed and eat an
apple”, chunnu replied.
“What? How do you know?”

“ I know, I had read it in some book. Dont you know about

that adam and eve, the first people on the earth?”

“No, I dont know. Who are they?”

“They are the parents of the parents of the parents of our

parents”

“How?”

“They were the first two people on the earth. And they also
did something like this only. They both did not wear clothes at
all. And once when eve broke an apple from the tree and they
both ate it, they had children like us.”, chunnu explained.

Munnu started weeping all of a sudden bitterly. Tears poured

out of his eyes non stop and chunnu wondered as to why this
fellow laughs so much first an then cries so much.

“Chunnu, please save me. I am gone. I wont be able to show

my face again to anyone. My parents will throw me out of the
house.”, munnu wept and begged chunnu for help.

“Arey but what happened, tell me naa”

“Yesterday, mummy had given me an apple to eat in the

break”, munnu said weepingly “ but I did not eat it”

“So what is the problem then? You dint eat it naa!”

“Niharika ate it!”, munnu said breaking out and tears running
down his cheeks with double speed.

“Oh! No, that is why she was vomiting yesterday evening.

She must have become pregnant”, chunnu exclaimed.
“My God, Chunnuuuuuuuu, niharika is going to give birth to
my child..........”, and munnu cried cried and cried.

He started weeping even harder when chunnu said him he

could get AIDS also. But, who could explain to these innocent
kids how innocent they were. For some time, munnu kept
weeping and chunnu remained silent ignorant of what to do?
And then after a few minutes, chunnu again said something
again like another eureka.

“Munnu, I have an idea. We can stop what is happening now.

Dont worry, everything will be fine”, chunnu said.

“How, tell me naa, please , tell me how?”, munnu asked.

“Give niharika a condom!”, chunnu announced as if he had

found a great remedy for all their pains and sorrows.

“Condom?”, munnu asked puzzlingly.

“Huh?! You dont know anything. You are still so small. You
need to grow up. You really dont know anything.”

“Tell me naa please,. I want to know, I want to help niharika”,

munnu begged.

“Arey dont you see the advertisements. They all tell that if you
will use condom, you will not get AIDS and children will also
not be born”, chunnu enlightened munnu.

“Oh?! But where can I get it? And how to use it?”

“I think you can get it in any medical shop. I had seen them
once there. I think it is like a tablet which you should have
with hot milk, the way they show in movie, the bride takes hot
milk for the groom, on taking it, the baby in the stomach will
die.”
“Die? The baby will die?”

“Yes. It will die”

“Oh No! How can I give her a condom then? That means we
will be killing the baby knowingly and that is a sin chunnu.”

“Oh come on dude, if you will think about sin and all that stuff,
you will then have to marry niharika and take her to your
home”

Munnu broke out again crying and weeping. They both

wondered what to do next? Whom to approach for help? They
were sure if this news reached munnu's parents he would be
thrown out of his house and maybe chunnu also. After
thinking for a long time, they finally decided to approach their
very friendly english teacher. Both of them headed straight to
the staff room and requested their teacher that they wanted to
discuss with her something very private and confidential.

“Private matter? What is it about?”, the puzzled teacher

asked

“Madam, it is about munnu's future and his life”, chunnu

replied, “ Madam, please come out for some time. It is very
urgent and important”

“Now tell me what is that so important and private”, the

teacher asked after coming out. Chunnu initiated to explain
as munnu continued to sob.

“Madam, yesterday munnu's mother gave him an apple to eat

in the break time. But, instead he gave that to niharika to eat
as she did not had her lunch. And madam, we swear we did
not know about eating apples. If we would have known, we
would not have committed that mistake madam”, chunnu
finished explaining
“So what is the big private and important urgent problem with
this?”, the teacher asked puzzled.
“Madam, now, niharika must have become pregnant and if
munnu's parents come to know about this, he will be kicked
out.”

“What? What are you talking? Who told you that niharika is
….i mean pregnant?”, the teacher asked puzzled again.
“I had seen her vomiting madam yesterday. And because she
ate munnu's apple now she will give birth to his child”

The teacher laughed gently at both of them, how they had

made such a silly issue out of it.

“Yes madam, I am not lying, I am talking the truth, munnu is

going to become a father soon. And niharika will become the
mother. And since they have not married, they will be thrown
out of their houses”

“Oh! Jesus!, my dear chunnu, who told you that by eating an

apple, one can give birth to a child?”

“Yes madam, it is true. I had read about it in the story of adam

and eve. They both eat the apple and become parents”

“Oh, my dear poor kids”, the teacher sighed, “Look dear

chunnu and dear munnu, first of all stop crying. You have
misunderstood it. It is not that by eating an apple, you will
become parents. Nothing will happen to you or niharika. She
must have just vomited because of indigestion. Dont worry
dear children. Nothing will happen”, the teacher assured.

“But madam, that story and eating apple, then giving birth to
children......” munnu asked expecting a clearer explanation.
“Oh!, That is just a story. It does not happen like that in truth.
Look, you are still very small and dont know a lot of things.
Dont worry about them or dont get too curious. When you will
grow, you will automatically learn them. Ok? Now stop crying
and go back home”, and the teacher went back to her staff
room leaving chunnu munnu relieved but still puzzled.

“Chunnu, I am so happy that niharika is not pregnant. I can

stay at home now. Nothing will happen”

“Arey but munnu, I have a doubt? If what the teacher said is

true, then what must your chacha chachi have done in their
honeymoon?”

“Hmm... I dont know...”

The question still remains unanswered and their curiosity

remains unquenched. But one thing which in intact is their
innocence and the purity associated with it. The driver finally
arrived and both went home not tensed but a little bit
unsatisfied as to how big they would have to grow to know
the ultimate secret of life?

Back to Book Map

~~~~~~~~
 A
DARK
AWAKENING
"How much will the sizzling brownie sizzle?", I asked. The
man in a white shirt and black overcoat was taken aback. I
gave a quick smile to my twin sisters who couldn't stop
laughing. They pressed their mouths hard with their hands but
in vain. They laughed it out loud.

"Pardon Sir", the man said slightly bending over me and

drooping his shoulders.

"I asked for how long will the brownie sizzle for?"
He still gave me a confused look.
"Never mind, One sizzling brownie for me.", I ordered. The
man left scribbling my order on his small notepad. The
moment he left I burst into laughter with my sisters.

"Dumbo.....you're so funny....", one of them said throwing a

ball of napkin on me.
"Arey, I was just trying to have some fun", I exclaimed.

No one else in Kailash Parbat, the restaurant we had been to,

had noticed the little prank we played on the steward.
Everyone was busy in their own world of gossips, laughter
and fun. Every table was occupied with people, young and
old, friends & family, who were enjoying the only holiday of
the week, their Sunday. But there was one table which had no
people dining on it, instead there lay a lonely school bag on
top of it, with no one nearby to claim it. And it has been there
for a considerably long time. What could it be there for? What
could it mean? Where was it's owner? Was there an
explosive left inside it? For a second, our laughters
disappeared to nowhere. There were tense wrinkles on my
face as I saw it when my sisters pointed it out to me. There
was an unidentified bag in the hotel which no one seemed to
notice! It may not seem to be an incident of concern but after
something like the 26/11 or the Mumbai local train blasts, it
becomes something very scary.
"Look at that! Can you even beleive it? As if we have not seen
enough for our life, here is a new threat and no one seems to
be bothered", Nidhita said.

"Exactly, they should have atleast had a security check for

everyone who was coming here. What should we do now?
Shall we approach the manager?", Nikita suggested.

"Hey, Dont make an issue out of it. It's just a bag and
someone must have forgotten it there. You're just being over-
conscious", I pointed.

"But, we can't neglect it. It's there since one long hour. If
someone must have forgotten it, they would have come to
claim it naa? Why is it lying there lonely? Why take a risk?"
Nidhita said.

"Yeah, I think it's better we inform the manager" Nikita added

"I guess that's the only thing we can do", I said and called for
the manager. He came over to our table and asked how he
could help us.

"Look at that bag on that table. It seems to be unidentified.

Can you please find out what is it doing there?," I requested.

"Oh! Please dont worry, it must be some of our customer's",

he said.

"Yeah but where is that person? Why has he left it there? It's
there for more than an hour. There may be a bomb in that",
Nidhita replied.

"Yeah..may be a bomb", Nikita added.

The manager laughed out. "Bomb?! Oh No Madam, why

would anyone put a bomb in my restaurant?"
"But you never know, it might be a terrorist attack.", Nikita
said.

"Madam, please dont worry. It might be just belonging to one

of our customers. There is no reason to get scared. Please sit
back and enjoy your dinner", he said.

"Sit back and enjoy? How can you even say that? What if it
explodes now? Look, we expect you to do something or else
we would call the police", Nidhita threatened.

OMG! The whole restaurant went silent for an instance.

Everyone turned to look at this young girl who wanted to call
police because there was an unidentified bag in the hotel.
Even I was taken aback. I never knew she was so daring. The
manager was shit scared. His face went flat as if someone
had poked a hole in a balloon.

"Madam, please dont worry. I will do whatever I can do about

it", he stammered.

There was no more noise of gossips in the restaurant.

Everyone was alert. They all realized the seriousness of the
situation. All eyes were on the bag and the manager. But no
one wanted to touch the bag or open it. It was a teal colored
reebok bag which appeared to be quite heavy. As we all
surrounded it and stared at it without any idea of what to do
with it, a gentleman appeared from nowhere, picked up the
bag and walked out as if nothing had happened. For some
time, no one knew how to even react to something like that.
But, as time passed by everything got to normal and we
resumed our dinner.

"Huh! May be we got too serious unnecessarily", I said.

"What unnecessarily? Whatever we did was right. There is
nothing wrong in being precarious.", Nidhita said.

"Yes, you're right. There is no harm is being preventive",

Nikita added.

"I still insist that there should be a security check for everyone
who enters this restaurant", Nidhita said.

"But why would anyone plan to attack people in a small place

like this?" I asked.

Nidhita: "Does that mean we wont take any precautions?

Especially after so many terrorist attacks we have witnessed
on the country? All public places should be in fact secured. I
dont understand why they are so careless."

Nikita: "Exactly, the other day also as we went for shopping in

a mall, there was no one to check our bags! How can they be
so careless? What is the government doing? And these
politicians, they dont do anything in this regard. They are
useless"

Nidhita: "Yeah, what if they try to attack us again? Why cant

they provide security to each and every place?"

Me: "But how many places can we go on securing? There are

thousands of them. And you never know, they can also plant
bombs on the roads which are open places. How can we
secure each and every road? Or they may attack us using
hijacked planes? Then? Increasing security everywhere may
not actually help. They would definitely come up with
innovative and indigenous ideas to attack us."

Nikita: "Then what should we do? I mean... you never know,

anyone can attack us. It is so scary to live in this place. And
the government does nothing."
Nidhita: "Yeah atleast the politicians should do something.
They cant sit back and be so passive. They are seriously
useless. Even though so much has happened, they still do
nothing."

For a moment, I felt helpless. I did not know what to answer

them. I am their brother and according to our tradition I was
responsible for their security. They tie me rakhi every year
expecting me to make them feel safe. But, when I saw the
fear on their face, I lost my thoughts for some time. I could
not make my own sisters feel safe and secure even in our
own home. And this is the situation every where. Maybe
every brother must have felt this helplessness and added to
that the burning anger against terrorists and politicians!

"What should we do then? How can we feel safe?", Nikita

asked looking at me with a tense face. I was blank. What
could I say?

Nikita: "But listen, what if all other countries who have also
suffered come together and do something?"

Me: "There is the UNO which is responsible for international

security, but I dont know what are they doing to help us."

Nikita: "Even, they are useless."

Nidhita: "I know, they are all the same, morons!"

Nikita: "But, there must be something which we can do..."

Nidhita: "Hmm...I dont know. We can remain alert throughout.

May be the way we did today. That is what all we can do."

Me: "Yeah, maybe that is what we can do. We can help out
each other and we can remain alert always"
The steward appeared and served us with the brown
chocolate walnut brownie with vanilla ice cream on top of it.
He poured hot chocolate over it as hot vapors rose from it
making it appear to sizzle. We finished our dessert and
headed back home. All through the journey I pondered over
the issue and what could be done. I was amazed at the
passion my sisters had to make a difference. They were
genuinely seeking for answers and solutions. For some time,
I entertained the thought of Indian Army blowing up Pakistan
but then realized it would just lead to another Indo-Pak war. I
could not find any particular solution as such but I sensed an
awakening amongst us.

Yes, there was an awakening among the country's youth, a

dark awakening, not only me and my sisters, but today every
young citizen of the country is seeking for similar answers.
We all want to make a difference in our lives. We are not the
ones who will sit back and suffer, the way our elders did. We
are proactive and we know that we will not remain silent. We
may not find instantaneous solutions or we may not change
the world overnight. It will take time, but atleast we have
begun. We have begun to ask questions and seek for
answers. And these questions will one day improve our lives.
It is this attitude that will serve as the solution. It may take
time and money, it may involve a lot of people, but this
attitude and chain of thought will one day, solve our problems.

As Mark Tully beautifully writes in his book "India in slow

motion" that India is often compared to the elephant, which is
huge and lumbering. It takes its own time, it is a bit slow, but it
knows where it is heading towards to. And so do we. We may
not rush through our problems, we take time, we are a bit
slow, but we find the best solutions.
Gandhiji could instantaneously get our country
Independence, but he chose the long path of non-violence, it
took us 100 long years to become free, but the whole world
respects for our values and approach towards our freedom
struggle.

There is no use of complaining or cribbing. Neither fearing

would improve the situation. We need to act bravely rather
than sit at home and scare ourselves. We should continue
asking questions which can lead to answers. We need to
continue this thought and attitude until we find our solution.
And we need to remain alert!

Back to Book Map

~~~~~~~~
 I DON'T
KNOW WHAT
LOVE IS
“What is all this?”, she asked surprised on looking at my
monitor.
“Ah! Well....nothing actually, I am just....writing a story!”, I
replied with a little fear as to what would she think on finding
me writing stories during office hours.
“You have written all this?”, she asked in disbelief after
scanning my document with her eyes.
“Yeah”, I replied modestly.
“Voow! That's Kewl, I still can't cant believe you've written so
much. How did you do that?”
“Well...I am writing since childhood. Poems and stories have
become my kids”
“Oh! And what is this story about?”
“Ahm! Well....just any other love story kind of stuff”
“Hmmm.....Love story?? And who is your love interest in it?”,
she asked inquisitively trying to find out if I was in love in real
life too. “Based on a true story ooor pure fiction?”
“Naah, nothing like that, just fiction”, I said shyingly.
“Don't tell me, I dont believe you. I guess its your own story...”
“No No, not at all”, I replied unaware that my cheeks had
turned pink.
“Then why are you blushing so much? Come on, it's ok, you
can tell me. I know....it's about you and Mahati, right?” she
chuckled.

I was taken aback and shocked for a moment. How did she
come to know my feelings for Mahati? I had not spoken about
it to anyone, not even my own reflection. She was giggling
and feeling proud as if she had cracked the da vinci code. I
desperately wanted to know how she knew about all this, but
if I would ask her , I would indirectly admit that my feelings for
mahati were true which I did not want to.

“What? Me and Mahati? Sahana, have you gone nuts? How

can you even think something like that?”
“Don't you have the hots for Mahati?”
“No, not at all!”
“Amrik, don't you lie to me, your face is clearly doing the
talking and so are your eyes.”

So my face is the culprit. She was observing me when I was

observing Mahati. And so, she knew what my eyes were
wanting to express. I knew I was attracted to Mahati, but it
after all attraction at the end of the day. I did not have any
hots for her, then why admit it?

“Huh?! Look, Mahati is a beautiful girl, she is gorgeous and a

bit sexy too. Any boy would fall for her. Not only me, all the
boys in the class have some feelings for her. And so do I,
nothing special about it.”
“Then what is this love story business? Why are you using
her name in your story?”
“That is just because I like her name. 'Mahati' is the name of a
raaga and it means great. It's just a coincidence the the
Mahati in our office also looks great”
“Hmm....so there is nothing special in your heart for her?
You're sure about it?” she asked slightly disappointed.
“Yeah, I'm sure, there's nothing”

I pressed Ctrl+R on my keyboard and quickly replaced all the

'occurences' of Mahati in my document with 'Madhuri'. It was
true that I was attracted to Mahati, she was indeed beautiful,
and who was not? Almost everyone fell for her. But, I did not
want to take it seriously because I knew subconsciously this
was just 'ATTRACTION'.

“Then, what is this love story about?”

“As I said, pure fiction. It's just any other love story.”

“Hmm.....Can I read it?”

“Yeah sure”
She has the maturity of a woman yet she carries the smile of a girl
with cheer and innocence. She is the symbol of confidence and
determination yet she has the desires of a child. She loves eating hot
jalebi as the rain pours down and she collects little drops in her
hand and sprinkles them on my face. Her skin is like the mountain
water, pure and fresh. It is clean and spotless as the milk. Her eyes
are those rare pearls which have a radiant shine. She is Madhuri,
which means sweet, my beautiful colleague from office. I stare at
her timeless beauty as the breeze flirts with her hair. She picks up
another piece of this orange red curly wurly sweet, drops of ghee
dripping from it, bites it, closes her eyes and jumps with joy. I listen
to her long 'mmmmmm......aaaah .........waaaah' as the nearby
crowd stares at us. I do feel a bit embarrassing initially but as i
could feel her pleasure, my shame flew away. She becomes
conscious all of a sudden as to what was happening around us, the
way people stared at us. She bit her lips feeling guilty but then
continued to eat her jalebi with her bindaas attitude as if somebody
cared. 'Oops...I am so sorry, main tumhe offer karna hi bhool gayi',
she said pushing her hand holding the jalebis wrapped in a
newspaper leaf towards me. I lifted my eyebrows in surprise and
replied, 'Ooh..that's ok..' and i picked one. The pitter-patter noise of
the rain went mute to my ears as i was engrossed in watching this
young lady enjoying every moment of her life. She enjoyed every
bite of the jalebi, every drop of the rain and i enjoyed every smile on
her face and i smiled with her too. She bit again making a crunchy
noise, threw away the empty ghee bathed newspaper and played
around with the rain drops.

It is very easy for many of us to brood over our problems, to

complain and crib, to cry and weep for we take our misfortunes too
deep. But, how many of us could enjoy our lives the way she did that
night eating a jalebi in the rain , jumping and laughing in the
streets not bothering of how others react. How many of us can
welcome the gifts of nature like the rain with a smile on our face
and play with it. How many of us can make others smile by our
deeds? Very few....very few of us have this rare quality of enjoying
life to the max and inspiring others to do so.
And Madhuri is one such person, who can bring a smile on my face
anytime, anywhere. Be it her childish desires or her chatpati
baatein, I have always served as the victim of her hearty laughs. I
wonder if this is what is called as love. I ponder if this feeling of
respect and admiration for her has turned into love. Why do i like to
be with her everywhere? Why do i smile with her everytime? I
wonder if this is what is called as love because I don't know what
Love Is.

Love, this word has had the fortune of going through a variety of
definitions and opinions. It carries different identities for different
people. The love of a mother for her child may not be the love of a
boss for his secretary. The love of a daughter for her parents may
not be the love of a friend for his friends. Love has the attributes of
being pure, selfless and sacrificing which is called true love. But,
there still exists lustful love, selfish love and unsacrificing love. But,
what was my love for her? Was it lustful or was it just attraction or
was it true love. What if one would mix respect, admiration and
care to love? That type of love is my love for her. I respect her for
the respect she has for herself and for the respect she has for the
indian woman. I admire her for her quality of loving life and
enjoying it to the max. I care for her and bless her to always remain
happy, cheerful and smiling. But, I still dont know what Love is
because how could I love her in such short time? I have hardly
known her for a few days and I have explored only the brighter side
of her. What if I discover something about her which I may not like?
Will my love vanish or will I be able to love her with the same
respect, admiration and care accepting her pitfalls. I still dont know
what Love Is because what if she is already committed to someone
else. What if I come to know that she is already in Love with
someone else? Will I still love her and continue to admire her? Will
I still like to be with her everywhere? Will i still smile with her every
time? The answers to some questions can be answered by only time
and as destiny unfolds, I need to wait, I need to spend more of my
life with her before I can confirm and declare my love to her.

“Hmm... not bad Amrik, a good try, but the narrator's

character seems to be so confused. I mean , first he says he
loves and he seems to be so obsessed with it, but then again
he says he needs to confirm it?”

Actually, even I am confused about Mahati and so is my

character in the story. But, now I have admitted to Sahana
that I don't love Mahati. And now, I cant explain to her how
this character is confused because I myself am so confused.
Should I tell Sahana that I love Mahati or should I wait. But,
it's only ATTRACTION and not LOVE. But, if it is only
attraction why do I feel for her something more than just
attraction. Why do I like to be with her or talk to her?

“Hellooooooooooooo........”, Sahana waved her hand in front

of my face to bring me back to awareness, “Where are you
lost dear? So much of deep thinking?”
“Em err..ah...nah...nothing. I was just thinking how to extend
the story and how to make the character talk to the girl
maha...i mean madhuri. You have any ideas?”
“Hmmm.....you are the writer, you should know, not me”

“Amrik Das Gupta, 22, a Software Engineer from Enfisys,

feels Voting should be made compulsory and everyone
should exercise the right to vote and make India a democratic
country in the right terms”, The Mumbai Mirror reported.

Of course, voting should be made compulsory. Each and

every Indian citizen should come out and vote. How else
would we be able to call ourselves a democratic nation? I
love my country and want to see it as a superpower. I would
not mind to dedicate my life for it and fight for the nation. But,
wait , forget it. No, actually, yes, but, wait, no better forget it. I
can't even decide whether I am in love or not, I don't have the
guts to talk to the girl I have the hots for, and I would fight for
the nation. Shame on me. I would remain he coward I am
forever.
How I wish Mahati could feel the feelings I am feeling for her.
Maybe if I can force my character to do it first in the story,
then maybe I would be able to gather strength to do it in real
life.

The calm rays of the evening sun fell from the window as it
lightened a wooden board placed on a high table. Its a board with
patterns made on it like a rangoli. There is a light hanging from the
ceiling over the table. She takes the chair opposite to me and we
adjust to board of carroms to match her height. She took out a box,
opened it and tilted it on the board spilling over coins of white and
black. There is a fat circular disc among those coins, which they
call the striker and there is one more coin, beetroot red in color,
which has been enjoying the highest privilege and points since
carroms was ever invented - The Queen. After a hectic day of doing
nothing on the bench, it is good to enjoy a game of carroms and that
too with a girl whom I loved – Mahati.

I had pressed Ctrl+R again on my keyboard and replaced

'Madhuri' with 'Mahati'.

She set the coins in a beautiful pattern, sprinkled powder over the
board, folded her sleeves upwards, took the striker, pressed her
thumb over the middle finger and released it on the striker which hit
the pool of coins hard pushing one white coin into one of the holes.
“Yes”, she shouted “Me whites, you blacks”, she announced feeling
elated to have hit the white coin and taking the ownership of the
white army. I, as usual had to take up the army of the blacks and
both our armies would fight till the end for the Queen. She was
happy, bubbling with joy and enjoying each and every moment of
the play. I was thoroughly impressed by her quality of finding joy in
everything. But, I was tensed and sweating. I had to confess to her
about my love today at any cost. There was no looking back now. I
promised myself I would do that. But, I was scared, how would she
react? And she had worn heels today which would leave a lasting
impression on my cheeks if she got angry. How should I tell her how
much I loved her?
“Good shot”, I said appreciating her. 'Thank You”, she said
blushingly. Appreciation always works!
“You know something? I have been trying to tell you something
since long”
“Oh! Really?”, she asked a bit tensed.
“Yeah. About the way you enjoy small small things in life. Like, the
way you enjoyed eating jalebi, and now the way you are enjoying
this game of carroms”
“Oh! That's how I am!”
“I know and that makes you so adorable”
“Thanks”
I hit my striker at the black coin hanging in front of one of the hole
pits, but I hit it a bit hard, sending it flying across the edge and it
pushed the red coin, the Queen into the opposite pit.
“Wow, nice shot!”, she exclaimed.
“Yup!” I hit the Queen somehow, but now what about the cover. I
am very bad at this. I hate this very idea of sending someone after
the Queen to confirm it's ownership. Why do we need to do it? Why
can't the queen be independent? Why does she need someone after
her?
“Abracadbraca....mushteepushtee kushlymachimo.....”, Mahati
uttered some awkward words making some mystical gestures with
her hands on the board. She seemed to be tying an imaginary knot
and blocking the path to the pit so that the coin does not go there
making the Queen mine.
“Oh! Come on, you can be so kiddish at time Mahati!”, I said.
“Bhagwan, please please please Queen mujhe de do”, she prayed
folding her hands.
I hit the striker wantedly slow so that she gets the chance to take the
Queen.
“Yes!!”, she clapped her hands.
“There is something else also I want to tell you”, I said again
hoping this time my small little courage would speak out.
“What?”, she asked curiously
“You are so child-like. When will you grow up?”
“Why should I grow up. I love the way I am”
“I too”
“What?!”
“Hun? Em..nothing...i too love to be child-like sometimes, the way
you are. I try a lot to be like you but fail always.”
“Hmmm........ you shouldn't be child-like also. It won't suit you.
Rather than being child-like, try be macho-man like”
“Macho-man?? Huh?! But I want to be like you, I want to be open,
expressive and bindaas like you”
“But why?”
“Because....well, just like that. I would also like to enjoy life like
you”

“Back to your story writing Mr. Writer?”, Sahana asked

coming from behind and leaving me struck in a writer's block.
She took a quick look at my monitor and said “I knew. I knew
it. Now, it's confirmed. See, you changed your story's female
lead to Mahati again. I wasn't wrong. My eyes cannot deceive
me. Amrik loves Mahati. Amrik loves Mahati”
“Stop itttt! What are you doing? Dont shout pleaseeee!!!”
“Haha, haha”, she giggled.
“Please, I beg you, don't tell this to anyone”

She continued laughing and wagged a finger at me giving me

those “I told you” looks. There was no denying or escaping
now. I was caught red handed. But, my face went blue. There
was no option but to accept my love or rather my confusion or
rather my attraction.

“Ok, ok baba. I accept. I admit that I have the hots for

Mahati.”
“You love her.....!”
“No! It's not yet confirmed. I dont know, I dont know what
Love is like, I dont know her also peoperly”
“Don't worry, there is spark in your heart for her and it will not
take long for it turn into a light”
“Sahana, please, swear that you wont tell this to anyone”
“Arey yaar, you are in love, why hide it, tell it to the whole
world dude”
“No! I dont want to because I am still confused. I dont know If
I actually love her or I am just attracted to her. I dont know
who she is, where is she from, what are her likes, dislikes, her
family background, nothing! All I know is her name and that
she looks beautiful. And that isn't enough to fall in love. I think
I am just attracted to her”
“But, then why do you keep wishing to talk to her, to go out
with her, and why do you write in your story that you love
her?”
“Well, I dont know. Sometimes, I feel it is just above attraction
and below love. Somewhere in between the two. I actually
dont know.”
“Hmmm.....ok. Then I think you should try talking to her and
try to know her to find out”
“But, that is the problem. I am scared to talk to her. I dont
know how to approach her and begin.”
“I can help”
“No, I will gather my courage and approach her. Don't worry”
“Ok. All the best. Do let me know if there is any progress”
“You dont want to read my story?”
“No. Not now. After you have found out the answer to your
love or attraction question”
“Okay”

I saved the story and mailed it to myself. I did not have an

independent system for my personal use, benefits of being on
bench!, so I had to save the story in my mailbox each time I
wrote some. I mailed a copy to Sahana as well hoping she'll
read and review it. There was a new mail from HR asking us
to attend a workshop on Culture Diversity at 3.30pm. I joined
Kushal for lunch after some time and was surprised to find
Sahana there.

“O mere chetan bhagat, Mr. Amrik Writer saab, are you

attending the workshop today evening?”, she asked.

“Yeah , of course”
“Chetan bhagat? Have you started writing books?” Kushal
asked surprised.
“No yaar, she is just exaggerating. I was just trying to write a
short story”
“Short story? All of a sudden, where did this writing demon
enter you bhai?”
“Arey Kushal, you dont know? He is writing to express
himself, to pour down his private feelings on paper” I
signalled suhana to shut up but she just wont listen
“Private feelings?”
“No kushal. Dont listen to this little monster. I have been
writing since childhood yaar. It's just that I lost touch in the
middle. Now that we have no work anyways, I have resumed
it.”

I dont know what was cooking between these two. I had

never seen Kushal and Sahana getting along with each other.
Kushal was a good friend of mine and Sahana, until
yesterday, was just an other colleague. Kushal knew quite a
lot of things about me (except my confused love, we were not
too good friend also), and Sahana started to learn things
about me which I never wanted her to know. What if Sahana
told to Kushal about my confusion? He would feel bad. So, I
decided to tell him about it.

“Jalebiiiiiiii”, Sahana shouted on seeing one in my plate.

“Where did you get it from? It wasn't there

before.” She jumped up from the chair, went to the canteen,
picked up one and came back.

“Mmmmmmmm.............ssss....aaaah!”, she made weird

sounds.

I and Kushal hung our faces in embarassment. But, she did

not care. She bit it making a crisp sound and continued those
sounds while Kushal and I closed our ears.
After lunch, I got back the same system which I had worked
before on, luckily. I opened my story, began reading it again
from the start and tried to continue where I had left it from. I
read about my imagination for Mahati and her eating the
jalebi making weird sounds. But, wait, I felt as though I had
experienced or watched this scene in real life too. Sahana?
Hmm...What was with her and my story?

Kushal came and sat beside me and wondered as to how I

had written a story from nowhere. I told him everything about
my confusion, love and attraction. Initially he was assured
that it was attraction but then again after looking at the
desperation and passion in me, he agreed that it had to be
somewhere in the middle, just below love and above
attraction. I made him read the story.

The culture diversity workshop began a bit late, at IST (Indian

Standard Time), and I was happy that Mahati was attending
it. Kushal and Sahana were also present. Sahana suggested
me that it was a nice chance to get close to Mahati. I agreed.
Mahati walked in with her friends and as she was searching
for a place to sit, Sahana got up & went beside Kushal who
was on my left, and thankfully, the seat next to my right was
occupied by Mahati. The workshop began asking us to fill up
a form about our personal details and this was the chance I
was waiting for. I did not hesitate at all to approach her.

“Excuse me....Er... Do you have a pencil?”, I asked slightly

stammering and then wondering as to why I asked for a
pencil?

“Pencil?? Well.. yes, I think I have it” and she took out one
from her purse and handed it to me.

“Thank You”

“Welcome”
I felt happy that I finally broke the ice with her but then I was
unaware those were going the be the last words. I hardly
spoke to her after that. But, she spoke a lot, not to me, but to
the gathering about her experiences and opinions on culture
diversity. And that was when slowly and steadily my confusion
began to fade.

“I have been to every place in India right from J&K to

Kanyakumari”, Mahati said with a sense of pride in her voice,
“And I bet no one is as good as the Marathis. I have met
different people from different parts of the country and
experienced various diversified cultures. Unfortunately, I
could not find anyone as hospitable and friendly as we, the
Marathis are. I wonder what makes Hindi our national
language. I think Marathi should replace it ”

The whole gathering was slightly bewildered at her egoistic

tone and sense of speech. We wondered if another Raj
Thackrey was in the making? Her words evoked a heated
debate among the others. Everyone argued about her
opinions for the national language. She did not accept defeat,
she kept arguing and battling until the facilitator had to stop
her. I was disappointed. She was so drastically different from
what I had imagined about her and written about her in my
story. She was very self-centered, prudish and never listened
to others. Her words, opinions, egoistic nature somehow
helped me wipe away my confusion as I realized she was not
the one I was in Love with. I could confidently say now I was
just 'ATTRACTED' to her. I kept thinking of the character I had
created in my story and realized that I was in love with my
character. That is the kind of girl I would love to love, cheerful,
bubbly, child-like yet mature etc. But, I guess she did not
exist.

After the workshop, Kushal left for home. I went to the

recreation area to have some fun and Sahana accompanied
me. We decided to play carroms.
She set the coins in a beautiful pattern, sprinkled powder over
the board, folded her sleeves upwards, took the striker,
pressed her thumb over the middle finger and released it on
the striker which hit the pool of coins hard pushing one white
coin into one of the holes.

“Yes”, she shouted “Me whites, you blacks”, she announced

feeling elated to have hit the white coin and taking the
ownership of the white army.

I, as usual had to take up the army of the blacks and both our
armies would fight till the end for the Queen. She was happy,
bubbling with joy and enjoying each and every moment of the
play. I was thoroughly impressed by her quality of finding joy
in everything. I somehow felt I had met her even before I
knew her, maybe in my story?

“Good shot”, I said appreciating her.

'Thank You”, she said blushingly.
“You know something? I have been trying to tell you
something since long”
“Oh! Really?”, she asked a bit tensed.
“Yeah. About the way you enjoy small small things in life.
Like, the way you enjoyed eating jalebi in the canteen, and
now the way you are enjoying this game of carroms”
“Oh! That's how I am!”
“I know and that makes you so adorable”
“Thanks”

I hit my striker and it pushed the red coin, the Queen into the
opposite pit. But now what about the cover. I am very bad at
this. I hate this very idea of sending someone after the Queen
to confirm it's ownership.

“Abracadbraca....mushteepushtee kushlymachimo.....”,
Sahana uttered some awkward words making some mystical
gestures with her hands on the board.
She seemed to be tying an imaginary knot and blocking the
path to the pit so that the coin does not go there making the
Queen mine. I at once realized that characters from fictional
stories could come true.

“Oh! Come on, you can be so kiddish at times Sahana!”, I

said totally unaware from where those words came. As if
someone else was speaking through me.

“Bhagwan, please please please Queen mujhe de do”, she

prayed folding her hands.

I hit the striker wantedly slow so that she gets the chance to
take the Queen.

“Yes!!”, she clapped her hands.

“There is something else also I want to tell you”, I said again.
“What?”, she asked curiously
“You are so child-like. When will you grow up?”
“Why should I grow up. I love the way I am”
“I too”
“What?!”
“Hun? Em..nothing...i too ...i mean I said.......nothing....I
meant......I....no you......but......I LOVE YOU”,
it just slipped from nowhere.
“I too”
“What?!”
“I mean......em....er …....i mean I said.......no......actually.....I
LOVE YOU TOO”, she replied.

I pressed Ctrl+R again on my keyboard and replaced 'Mahati'

with 'Sahana'.

Back to Book Map

~~~~~~~~
 MY BUS
IS TALLER
Rakesh had come all the way from Kurnool to Mumbai for a
job. He bagged one in a software company, located in MIDC,
Andheri (East). He stays at Bandra at his paternal uncle's flat.
His day begins with the 9.45 local from Bandra to Andheri on
the Harbour Line. He picks up the bus no.415 from andheri
station. And he makes it a compulsion to board the double
decker ones only.

And that is because he feels it is very exciting to see the city

from a higher level. It's like watching a film, the eyes serving
as the camera. Black autos, red buses, yellow taxis and the
fast walking mumbai crowd, it's a feast to the camera. The
first experience of using the double decker is simply
awesome and extremely exciting if you would occupy the
front seat on the first floor. You can't see the driver, it's like the
bus is driving by itself. There are tickles in your stomach as
you see the crowd. It's an economical roller coaster ride. The
best part is when the brakes are applied. The bus stops by
itself! And you fall forward over no-one. The breeze hits your
face hard. Reminds you of sitting on the camel ride during
school days.

To enjoy one more day of this ride, Rakesh joins the tail of the
long line standing waiting for the next bus. As the bus comes,
the line starts dismantling at the front and gets longer at the
end. An old man tries to enter the line mid-way but he is
pushed aside by the crowd. No one allows him to break the
rules. Now, what was wrong if after all, one man joined the
line in the middle? But, No! They would not let anyone
compromise the rules. They failed to realize that rules were of
two types – hard and soft. And not all rules are meant to be
hard, some are meant to be broken at times. Some rules are
meant to be flexible. But, who would make them understand?
I ask Rakesh if he can help the old man. He feels to do so but
then again thinks maybe the crowd wouldn't allow him to do
so. So, even before trying, he gives up and tells to me “Sorry
God, I don't have enough time as well, please forgive me”
And as usual, I forgive him. Rakesh excitedly climbs the steps
and is happy to see the floor empty. He quickly moves
forward to occupy the front seat, but I interrupt him. I make
him aware of how he has been occupying the first seat
everyday and it is becoming routine now. And boring too. He
should try and break the routine. He thinks and then agrees
it's time for a change. He sits on the last 3-seater. He is
happy that he broke the routine again.

Doing the same thing again and again makes it boring. We

need to change the pattern of our actions, breaking the old
ones and making new ones, which in turn helps to re-
organize our thoughts and mind. Actions directly influence our
mind and if we can manage to do interesting and exciting
actions in our daily life, we could keep our mind active, we
would free it from the old rugged thoughts. Even simple
actions like occupying different seats in the bus on different
days can create interesting patterns in the mind and boost
creativity.

A lady asks Rakesh to vacate the 3-seater he had occupied

as it was meant for ladies. He demands her to show where it
was written that it was meant for ladies. She shows the
'Striyansathi' symbol on top of the seat. He looks up at me
frowningly and asks “You knew it? Right? Grrrr”.
Disappointed, he gets up and moves ahead but finds the front
seat is also occupied by now. “Grrrrrrrr” again. I smile gently.
He sighs and sits on one of the middle ones but he is happy
at least he got it near the window. The window would serve as
his door for scenes of daily life in Mumbai.

He observes the fast paced life in this city, the people who
have no time for others. Everyone is pre-occupied. And at this
time, he can see people busy rushing to their offices. On the
way, he sees a blood donation camp. I remind him that the
day his grandfather had fallen ill, he had promised me to
donate his blood in return of good health for his grandfather.
“Ahm......I will baba....when time comes, I remember, but it's
just that I am not getting the right time”, he explains.

I sigh and wonder when would the right time come. The Metro
construction process by Reliance industries had disrupted the
roads and traffic badly making the bus turn across streets
weirdly. He enjoys it, like the coaster ride. The traveler beside
him is busy reading the latest bollywood gossip in Bombay
Times. Rakesh politely requests him to pass the paper when
finished reading. The traveler agrees. He continues to enjoy
the view through the window. He also looks at the hoardings
and advertisements which seem to be at his height.

“You and your bloody craze for bollywood, huh?! “, I tell him.

“Oh! Come on God, please, now don't make me open my

mouth. And don't call it 'craze', it is passion, not craze. And It
is you who injected that passion into me since birth. I am not
responsible whatsoever”, he frowns and gives me bad looks.

I just shut up and remain quiet. After all, what he said was
true, it was my fault! I had injected this so called passion into
his blood. What to do? Even I am helpless. I had to do that
because I have to face the pressure of running this universe
and creating new interesting people. Many a times I just use
permutations and combinations and create people. But,
rarely, I sit for a while, ponder and then create interesting
people like Rakesh.

'IMPOSSIBLE is I M POSSIBLE' is very popular as a caption

among SMSes and email forwards. Rakesh believes in it too.
He says nothing is impossible. It is only our thoughts and
actions which makes something impossible. We can do
anything, achieve any goal provided we have the courage
and determination for it. But the question is how do we
develop courage and determination. How do we make them a
part of our genes?
Robin Sharma in his book 'The Monk who Sold his Ferrari'
says discipline is like a cable wire, built from thinner wires,
and so are our qualities, built from thinner and smaller
actions. Courage can also be built similarly by performing
small actions everyday which would pile up to attain the
weight of a mountain.

The conductor passes by the seats making a tick-tick noise

with his puncher. He starts issuing tickets from the front seat
and works his way backwards. He takes out his five rupee
coin from the wallet which he exchanges for a ten rupee note
at the juice shop near the station everyday. He purchases his
ticket and continues to enjoy the view. The conductor walks
past his seat and goes backwards issuing tickets to everyone.
The traveler reading Bombay Times seems to be too
engrossed reading an article about Asin, Aishwarya Rai
Bachchan and Preity Zinta. He did not buy a ticket. Rakesh
wonders how the conductor could miss him. But, Rakesh
doesn't bother, he ignores the issue.

“Why don't you ask the traveler about his ticket? Why did he
not purchase one?”, I ask Rakesh.

“What?! Why should I do that? It's not my business?”

“Of course it is. A man hasn't bought the ticket, he is traveling

illegally. So ask him. And if you consider courage to be
gathered by small actions, then let this be the beginning.
Gather your courage, be bold enough to ask him about his
ticket.”

“But..... I mean..... it would be like interfering.....he may abuse

me for that”

“Hmm...then forget it. Let it go. Remain the dumb coward you
are”
“Oh please, come on, I know I am courageous and I need not
do this to prove it”

“I know you aren't asking him because you're scared of doing

it. You are afraid he may abuse you”

“But how can I ask him so directly? It isn't making sense to

me. And please don't fuss around about such a silly thing.”

“No dear! It's not a silly thing, it is very important. It is about

your courage. It is about your confidence. If you can't ask him
this, that proves you are scared. You aren't at total peace with
yourself. If it is to be true that you are courageous and
confident, if it is true that you want to overcome your
setbacks, then do this small insignificant action. It will add to
your strength.”

“Huh?! I seriously don't understand what all this is about. I

know now that if I don't ask him, you will keep teasing me that
I am a coward. I just don't understand this God”, he replies.

“But, that is how I work dear. You never understand my deeds

until you do them. So, please go ahead and ask him. I assure
you, nothing would happen as you think”

Rakesh cleared his throat, took a deep breath and faced the
traveler. He opens his mouth, but closes it again, too scared
to ask. How could he ask that unknown man about his ticket?
Who was he to do it? But, I am forcing him to do it and if he
doesn't, I would keep pestering him later for his inability to do
such a simple thing. His heart beats badly.

“Ehm....you ….. did ….. not … buy the ticket?”, he asked

politely with a smile so that the traveler doesn't feel insulted.
“Can I help you to buy one?”, he quickly added.

“I have a pass”, the traveler replied surprised.

He looked up and gave me an angry 'You knew it' look. I
simply smiled.

“Oh! I thought I could help you to buy one ticket so that the
conductor does not catch you later”, he told the traveler.

“Oh! Don't worry, I have the pass”

“Nice. Where can I get a pass made from”, Rakesh asked just
to continue the conversation trying to appear innocent.

The traveler explained him about the formalities for a pass.

Rakesh listened carefully and thanked him. As his stop
neared, he got up and waited near the bay. He was slightly
scared still, but very excited to do something so crazy like
this. He was smiling at himself. He was happy that the
traveler did not misunderstand him or abuse him. The traveler
in fact reacted very normally and politely. Rakesh was happy,
he had conquered his fears with a simple act. He felt more
confident now.

He looked at me and I smiled at him.

“Now you understand?”, I asked him.
“Yeah ...yeah”

There was nothing wrong about the things which we

otherwise think were wrong. Small insignificant actions can
lead to big results.

He got down at the stop, looked at the departing double

decker, and quietly told himself, “My bus is taller and so is my
courage now.”

Back to Book Map

~~~~~~~~
 ASOKA
WEDS
BAUHINIA
“I guess we'll have to cut this bauhinia tree, there is no other
way out”, the BMC official said on installing a new water pipe
for the residents of 3rd road at Khar.

“But, the gurudwara officials may have a problem with it”, one
of the residents said.

“We'll approach them and take permission for it. You do not
worry, we assure you, you would get water in your houses
within the next two days”

The BMC official approached the gurudwara organization and

they instantly agreed, after all even they were facing the
water problem for more than ten years now. They could
sacrifice a tree for the welfare of hundreds of citizens. But,
they had one issue. The tree had to be cut only after evening
because the gurudwara had to host a wedding ceremony
during the noon. And the BMC also did not seem to have a
problem, they would wait.

So, it was set. The 18 year old, actually young, bauhinia tree
would sacrifice itself for the sake of the society. After all,
technology was still not advanced enough (at least not in
BMC) to install a water pipe without disturbing the nature.
Nature is like our mother, and it is quite ok for her to make
small sacrifices to keep us comfortable and happy.

The sky was cloudy, in preparation of the approaching

monsoon. There was cool breeze which flirted with the trees
trying to make them cheerful. But, they did not seem to be
happy, at least the bauhinia tree did not. Her purple flowers
hung in disappointment. For over a decade now, the people
have admired it's beauty, it's slim trunk and it's purple flowers
with lemon green leaves but now they want to get rid of her.
She tried to look around, not to cry, to smile feebly, but
nothing helped. She looked at the tall asoka tree beside and
tried to talk.
“Hi asoka”, she said in a low voice.

“Er...hmm...Hii”, he replied slightly apprehensive.

“So, how're you doin?”, she asked unsure if it was ok to talk

to him and share her grief.

“Well, fine. Absolutely fine. Em...What about you?”

“I am doing good”, she replied trying to smile & sound bright.

“Good. I ….heard about …..your falling and …. I ....... can

understand wat's goin on in your mind.......& I am feeling
really sorry about it”, he said with a sense of remorse.
“Ah.....well, thanks for understanding...but let's talk something
else if you don't mind”
“Yeah sure, let's talk something else. But, about what?”

“Hmmm......the sky?”
“The sky?”
“Yeah, look at the sky, it's so beautiful! Look at those small
fluffy white clouds as if they've come live from a painter's
canvas. Look at the bright blue sky. See how the clouds are
playing with the sun. They cover it for some time, making
everything dim and then again they uncover it, making
everything bright. And added to it, this cool breeze. I love the
way it's blowing my leaves and flowers. Woooow!”, bauhinia
said opening it's branches and embracing the wind.

“Wow! Nice way to look at it. I am impressed. And I

appreciate your guts to be so cheerful even in the moment of
your.....”

“Please! Don't remind me of the upcoming. Let me just enjoy

the present moment. And you too enjoy it”
“Hmm...Sure”, he sighed and enjoyed the day.
They remained in silence for some time gazing at the sky,
smiling and enjoying. The blue sky, the white clouds, the
bright-dim-bright sun light, the breeze. Everything was
seeming to be perfect until a group of men clad in red shirts,
white pants, golden belts and red turbans holding musical
instruments approached the gurudwara and started blowing
loud music. Drums and trumpets dominated their orchestra as
they played the classic “Udey jab jab zulfein teri.
....jindmeriye”.

A royally decorated car accompanied them. It moved slower

than a tortoise. Transparent silk and chiffon ribbons and
flowers and bouquets made it look absolutely enchanting.
Before bauhinia and asoka could realize what was
happening, two girls in gagra choli ran towards the interior of
the gurudwara shouting “Baraat aa gayi, baraat aa gayi”

A group of men and women who had worn the best of their
attires, men in silk sherwanis and pink turbans, women in
chiffon sarees or silk patialas, came out as a welcome to the
other group of men and women waiting outside the
gurudwara, who were better dressed up than the group
inside. They wore brighter colors and red turbans and the
women looked even royal. Young girls in sleeveless punjabi
dresses came out running and surrounded the decorated car
all set to grab the groom's footwear as soon as he stepped
down. Two ladies, each from either group, came forward with
a thali having sweets, matches and a small diya.

Leaves of the bauhinia tree turned lemon green and it's

flowers turned royal purple as if it were blushing. It slightly
drooped backward as if it was overjoyed by what it had seen.
It moved sidewards dancing to the sound of the trumpets.

“Wow, look at that. It's so beautiful. A wedding ceremony after

so long”, she exclaimed.
“Yeah, I know. It's been really long having seen people dance
around merrily”, asoka replied.

“I feel like dancing too and I am actually doing it. I love this
song...

udey jab jab zulfein teri

udey jab jab zulfein teri
kavariyon ka dil machley
kavariyon ka dil machley......jind meriyen”, she sang.

“Ho jab aise chikne chehre

Ho jab aise chikne chehre
to kaise na nazar phisle
to kaise na nazar phisle.....jind meriye”, asoka joined too.

The family & friends of the bride and bridegroom started

dancing to the music. Old & young, both moved their hands &
shoulders alike. Women formed a small circle among
themselves and started rotating and dancing. The musicians
formed a semi-circle surrounding all those who danced.
People in the nearby buildings flocked towards their terraces
and balconies to witness the function. Everyone seemed to
enjoy the occasion and the two people who were the most
excited were, of course undoubtedly, you guessed it right, the
bride and the groom. But, there were two more who were
equally excited, you guessed it right again, bauhinia & asoka.

“Satpal Singh weds Jaswinder Kaur”, bauhinia read the

message written on a board with small yellow bulbs, “I just
love these weddings. I wish........huh!”, she sighed “I can't
even wish for anything now.”

“Why?”, asoka asked.

“What's the use?”, bauhinia sighed again, “It will never come
true”
They shared gloomy looks with each other. It was sad that
trees could not enjoy their life. They were made for sacrificing
themselves for the society. Their only duty is to give. They
keep giving all the life. They either give us flowers, fruits or
paper. And sometimes, they just give up their entire life.

“I wished I could be part of a wedding. I love to imagine

getting married. Imagine what the bride and the groom must
be feeling right now. Tons of excitement, amusement,
nervousness, anticipation, shyness, blushing and what not?
This day comes just once in a lifetime for them..........and
never unfortunately for us”, bauhinia exclaimed.

They both knew they could never experience that joy and
they had to learn to accept the truth.

“But I think all this excitement, joy remains only until they get
married. Once they tie the knot, they become husband and
wife, it all vanishes.”, asoka said.

“Not at all! It still remains”, bauhinia replied.

“But maybe just for the initial few days. I guess once they
return from their honeymoon, it is all over. It becomes a
responsibility rather than love. They would actually hate to be
with each other.”

“No!!! It isn't like that with everyone. There are still many
couples who enjoy married life until they die. And what makes
you think of so far ahead in time. Think of something near,
like in the initial days. The first night, the first day, the first
lunch, the first honeymoon, the first tour. Wow, it's all so
exciting. Married life is in fact so beautiful.”

“But the beauty doesn't last long my dear. The day when both
start fighting comes very soon”
“It may come soon but not in all cases. There are marriages
and couples who keep loving each other till time parts them.
There are husbands who'll still do anything for their wives and
wives who'll give away their entire life to their husbands. And
it is not that difficult to do all this. All you need is a little bit of
understanding, caring and maturity of relationships.”

“But, it isn't that easy too my dear. Especially for a husband.

He really needs to strive hard for everything. He needs to
earn money, work hard to keep his wife happy, meet her
constant & never ending demands always.....”

“Oh! And you think it's quite easy for the wife to do it, right?”

“Yeah, what do they do after all? Sit at home and enjoy the
relationship.”

“Huh?! You think they enjoy sitting at home all day? Don't you
know the kind of hardships they face to keep their husband
happy always. The way she acts as a companion to her
husband, always supporting him, taking care of him, loving
him, feeding him like a mother, sharing his sorrows like a
friend?”

“Huh?! So, if given a chance you would love to become the

bride?”

“Of course, I would love to be a faithful loving wife. I would

love to surrender my entire life, my heart and soul to a man
whom I would love timelessly until death parts me from him. I
would love to give away myself totally to him, my body, my
desires, wishes , everything. I would remain in his devotion
forever, in his arms forever. I would have abundant &
unconditional love for him. And, the most important I would
not expect him to love me the way I do. Because, I know a
man can never love a woman the way she loves him”
“Wohoho! You seem to be coming straight from the 18th
century, sati savitri types.”

“I dont know about savitri or her sati, but I know what I am

and I just love the way I am.”

“Huh! You think you are the only ones who love so much or
sacrifice so much. Even a man loves his woman more than
anyone. The difference lies in accepting love. A man can
never say or accept openly he loves you, he just wants you to
understand it by looking at his eyes. He cares for you more
than himself, he keeps making small sacrifices even, let alone
financial , to see that glow in your eyes and that smile on your
face because he knows his small little happy world is made of
only you”

“But why are we talking all this? I mean what happened to us

suddenly?”, bauhinia asked in total surprise as if coming out
from some thoughts which made them totally lost.

“Exactly, I didn't realize, why were we talking all that?? Maybe

we just got carried away looking at the wedding”

“Or maybe they were our own feelings which we never

expressed before?”

Yes, maybe what they spoke were their hidden feelings which
they had never before shared with anyone. They had spoken
to each other for the first time in so many years. The
orchestra stopped playing, the car doors opened and stepped
out the prince with a small crown on his head and his face
covered with jasmine flowers. The princess bride also finally
made her appearance, clad in a pink saree rich with golden
embroidery and jewels, her eyes bent down towards the
ground and her cheeks slightly blushing. Both came forward
and faced each other for the next ritual.
The groom looked at her and felt masculinely proud, his chest
expanding. The bride did not look at him but still knew what
he was doing and feeling. They both took their right foot
forward and placed them on a clay bowl containing milk. The
bride's mother cleansed both the feet with milk and then they
stepped inside the hall taking the right foot forward.

“I still remember when you were being planted beside me”,

asoka said to bauhinia, “I was 3 years old and had small tall
leaves coming out. You were a cute little sapling and they
brought you here. I would look at you and smile whenever
you would dance. You love dancing, don't you?”

“As much as I love myself. I just love music and dance is just
a spontaneous reaction of mine on listening to my favorite
music”

Asoka smiled. Bauhinia wondered how asoka could

remember those moments which are years old now. The
mysterious part was he never expressed it until this day. They
knew each other very well, often looked and smiled at each
other, but never pour out each other's feelings. But now, they
were talking and discovering how much they liked each other.
And all this now because bauhinia knew she was dying soon.
It felt happy that at least finally today they spoke. Asoka was
also equally happy on finding his new friend. He was always
in need for one and kept searching but never realized it was
right beside him.

He slightly bend sidewards and his leaves touched that of

bauhinia's flowers. Bauhinia blushed again and felt happy as
if someone was tickling her. She moved her roots in response
and entangled them with that of asoka's. They were dew
drops on the lemon green leaves of bauhinia. Asoka's dark
green leaves turned straight, it was hair raising for him. They
both remained in each other's arms for a while.
The bride and the groom came out after they tied the knot,
the musicians and dancers were gone. The bride's kin shed a
few tears on departing from her, they left in the same
decorated car. The gurudwara became deserted. The yellow
silk curtains were removed, the decorations thrown away and
life became normal again.

The BMC officials entered with their not very modern tools
and started hitting bauhinia giving it extreme pain. They left
the fallen tree there itself and decided to remove it the next
morning and then start laying the water pipe.

The next morning, as the sun rose in dusky red, the

gurudwara woke up to offer their morning prayers. They came
out to clean the divine abode of the Sikh God and to clear the
mess of leaves fallen on the ground. They were small lemon
green leaves, purple flowers and among them were tall dark
green leaves as well.

There was the lean bauhinia which lay there lifeless and
beside her lay the tall asoka tree, in each other's arms, until
time departed them.

Back to Book Map

~~~~~~~~
 I TOO
DON'T KNOW
WHAT
LOVE IS
She has the maturity of a woman yet she carries the smile of
a girl with cheer and innocence. She is the symbol of
confidence and determination yet she has the desires of a
child. She loves eating hot jalebi as the rain pours down.......

The moment I read those lines, I could find myself in them. I

knew it was me who was being described. And I felt so elated
to read them. They are from a story called 'I Don't know what
love is'. Honestly speaking, even I don't know exactly what
love means but I know that I am in love. I even know whom I
love. He is handsome, charming and sweet. His name also
means the same. Amrik, which means 'sweet'. I don't know
since when I am loving him, almost the day since I saw him
and my love has been growing day after day. But, the
problem is he doesn't even know my feelings for him. And I
do not have the guts to go and tell him. Every time I try
getting close to him, things just don't work out. But, my gut
feeling says, he is made for me.

She is Madhuri, which means sweet, my beautiful colleague

from office.

I knew he had changed Mahati to Madhuri and he was in love

with Mahati, who is not the right choice for him. But, how do I
tell him? How do I make him realize that the girl in his story is
actually me and not Mahati. I am the one who would love to
eat jalebi in the rain!

“Hmm... not bad Amrik, a good try, but the narrator's

character seems to be so confused. I mean , first he says he
loves and he seems to be so obsessed with it, but then again
he says he needs to confirm it?”, I manage to reply somehow.
But, he didn't reply back. He was lost in some thoughts.

“Hellooooooooooooo........”, I waved my hand in front of his

face to bring him back to awareness, “Where are you lost
dear? So much of deep thinking?”
“Em err..ah...nah...nothing. I was just thinking how to extend
the story and how to make the character talk to the girl
maha...i mean madhuri. You have any ideas?”

“Hmmm.....you are the writer, you should know, not me”, I

reply.

I am tensed now not knowing what to do. How to press Ctrl+R

like him and replace Mahati with my name, Sahana? I go
back to my cubicle and recall those moments when I had first
met him. His style, his persona, ooh! So charming. And, the
most important, his view about Love. I never met a man
before who viewed Love the way I do. He loves to be in love
like me and he too doesn't know what love is.

Trrriiiiiiingggg...........Trriiiiingggg................ “Reshmi Calling”,

my mobile beeped.

“Hiiee! Whatzup?”

“Nothing special, was getting bored, no work to do, so called

up. What are you doing?”

“Hmm...Same here, no work to do, getting bugged up. Was

reading a story....”

“Story? Which one?”

“Amrik has written a story, was going though it”

“Oooh! Amrik's story, so what has he written? Anything about

you?”

Now this is the problem which arises when you confess about
your feelings to your friends – They don't stop teasing you.
Reshmi knew about my feelings for Amrik and she would
never stop pulling my leg.
“Huh?! How I wish he could have written about me...but alas!
He has written about someone else....”

“Pcch! Dont worry yaar, the day he'll come to know you, I' m
sure he will fall for you”

“Hmmm.....But, how on earth would he come to know?”

“Come on Sahana, you should go and tell him yaar”

“Are you nuts? Never!”

“Pcch, this is the problem with you. Why don't you

understand? If you won't, then who will?”

“Oh! Please, don't start again yaar. I don't have the guts to do
so.”

“Arey, it's simple, just go and tell him, 'O My dear Amrik, I
looooove you'”, she said teasingly.

“Shut up! I am not so dumb to go and tell him 'O My dear

Amrik, I looooove you'”

“You love Amrik?”, a male voice came from behind.

My heart stopped beating for a while, I was totally

dumbstruck. Who was this and why was he hearing to my
conversation? Shit! What do I do know? Oh! God, all this
because of Reshmi, she is a big Idiotttt!

The phone was still near my ear, I was speechless. I slightly

turned my head around to see who it was.

“You never told me Sahana! You love Amrik? Is it?”, he said. It

was Kushal, Amrik's friend.
Eeeeeeeeeksssss!! Yuck! Crap, shit, damn!
Goooooddddddddddddddd!

“Arey, tell naa if you love him, say something”

What would I say? I was just giving him sorry looks. I told
Reshmi I would call her later and cut the call. I got up, went to
Kushal and said in a feeble voice.

“Kushal, Please don't tell about this to anyone. Please,

Please”, I pleaded.

“Hmmm........But it's true that you love him”

“NO!”

“No? You don't?”

“No, I mean...i mean yes.....no.......I......I......”

“Caught you! There you go, Sahana loves Amrik”

“Kushal, please, I beg you, don't tell to anyone”

“Ok! Ok! I won't. But, does Amrik know about this?”

“No”

“Hmmm.....So when are you letting him know that a beautiful

lady is in love with him?”

“No.......I.... am...not...going to tell him.........How can I......?”

“Oh! Come on, you love him, so you should tell him, in fact
you should tell the whole world....”
“No Kushal, I can't. Try to understand......how can I approach
him and tell him......and I don't even know what he thinks
about me.........and there is no point in telling also.....because
I know he doesn't feel anything for me”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because he loves Mahati”, I said in a disappointed tone.

“What?! He loves Mahati? Who told you?”

“He himself told me and he wrote that in his story also”

“Yuck.....! He loves Mahati?? And what is this story stuff? He

is writing stories? He never told me. And Mahati?? Uuuh!
God, doesn't he know about her? She is not the right girl for
him.”

“I know”, I confessed, “But how to tell him? He thinks he

deeply loves Mahati”

“He is a stupid! I am going and telling him”

“NO! You can't do that....pleaseeee.........”

“Come on, he is my friend, I know what is right for him and

what is wrong and I can go and tell him”

“No Kushal, please. Just forget it, give him some time and
give some time to me too. I mean...all this happened all of a
sudden, I am still feeling so embarassed...”

“Embarrased?? ”

“You won't understand a girl's feelings Kushal”

“I understand girl's feelings – emotional and sentimental!
Hmmm...Ok , let's wait and watch then. But, I am telling you if
it becomes too late, I am going and telling him everything”

“No Kushal! No! Please....just let things happen on it's

own.....please”

“Ufff! You girls!! Okay.......let's see....”

I went back to the training room where half of our colleagues

were busy writing brain bench online tests. I never
understood why they use so much brain being on bench. I
looked at Amrik's monitor and I saw what I expected. He had
replaced Madhuri with Mahati again. I knew it. But, I can't tell
him. I requested Kushal also to be quiet. I'll have to pretend
as though I were normal.

“Back to your story writing Mr. Writer?”, I asked him. I looked

at his monitor again “I knew. I knew it. Now, it's confirmed.
See, you changed your story's female lead to Mahati again. I
wasn't wrong. My eyes cannot deceive me. Amrik loves
Mahati. Amrik loves Mahati”

“Stop itttt! What are you doing? Dont shout pleaseeee!!!”, he

requested.

“Haha, haha”

“Please, I beg you, don't tell this to anyone. Ok, ok baba. I

accept. I admit that I have the hots for Mahati.”

My heart screamed Uuuuhhhhhh!

“You love her.....?”, I asked.

“No! It's not yet confirmed. I dont know, I dont know what
Love is like, I dont know her also peoperly”
“Don't worry, there is spark in your heart for her and it will not
take long for it turn into a light”, I don't know what made me
say about the spark and light stuff.

“Sahana, please, swear that you wont tell this to anyone”

“Arey yaar, you are in love, why hide it, tell it to the whole
world dude”, I was talking like Kushal.

“No! I dont want to because I am still confused. I dont know If

I actually love her or I am just attracted to her. I dont know
who she is, where is she from, what are her likes, dislikes, her
family background, nothing! All I know is her name and that
she looks beautiful. And that isn't enough to fall in love. I think
I am just attracted to her”

Just attracted to her??? My foot! I don't know why all the boys
in the office fall for her. She can't even win a Miss Dombivali
contest.

“But, then why do you keep wishing to talk to her, to go out

with her, and why do you write in your story that you love
her?”

“Well, I dont know. Sometimes, I feel it is just above attraction

and below love. Somewhere in between the two. I actually
dont know.”

“Hmmm.....ok. Then I think you should try talking to her and

try to know her to find out”

“But, that is the problem. I am scared to talk to her. I dont

know how to approach her and begin.”

I know, I can understand this. Same problem I had talking to

him too, initially.
“I can help... Amrik”, I suggested.

“No, I will gather my courage and approach her. Don't worry”

The same thing which I did. Gathered my courage and finally

talked to him.

“Ok. All the best. Do let me know if there is any progress”

“You dont want to read my story?”, he asked.

“No. Not now. After you have found out the answer to your
love or attraction question”

“Okay”

I went back to my system and checked for any incoming mail.

There were two, one from the HR for a culture Diversity
Workshop and other from Amrik. my love, the continuation of
his story.

She set the coins in a beautiful pattern, sprinkled powder over

the board, folded her sleeves upwards, took the striker,
pressed her thumb over the middle finger and released it on
the striker which hit the pool of coins hard pushing one white
coin into one of the holes. “Yes”, she shouted “Me whites, you
blacks”, she announced feeling elated to have hit the white
coin and......

Hmmm.....I should appreciate his writing skills. And his

imagination. Too good! I thought. He could beat Chetan
Bhagat and give him a run for his money. But, I wish I could
be there in that story. I went to Kushal and told him about this
new caroms drama. I don't know how all this happened but I
found a new friend in Kushal and the best part is that he is so
understanding!
“Hmmm.......He seems to be too much in love with Mahati.”

“I know...but he doesn't admit it. He says he is confused. He

says 'Maybe it is just attraction?'”

“Silly guy! He doesn't know a lot of things about himself. You

don't worry.....we'll see what can be done”

“Kushal, ahm!.....I have to say something...”

“What?!”

“Thanks!”

“Thanks??”

“Thank you so much Kushal! For handling the situation so

well. When you had heard what I had said over the phone, I
was so terribly scared, I didn't know how to react even, but
then, thanks to you, you received it so positively”

“Sahana...”, he sighed “....After all what are friends for? I am

actually so happy to have made a new friend today like you.
And please no thank you and no sorry, ok?”

“Ok.”, I smiled.

“No enough of this emotional talk, let's go for lunch, I am

feeling so hungry.”

“Ok”

As I and Kushal went for lunch, Amrik joined us. He gave a

very awkward expression on his face on seeing me, as if he
did not expect me to be there. I don't know what that meant.
“O mere chetan bhagat, Mr. Amrik Writer saab, are you
attending the workshop this evening?”, I asked. I knew Mahati
is attending it and Amrik is sure to go there and so will I.

“Yeah , of course”, he replied

“Chetan bhagat? Have you started writing books?” Kushal

asked surprised.

Hmmmmm........Kushal is a good actor!

“No yaar, she is just exaggerating. I was just trying to write a

short story”

“Short story? All of a sudden, where did this writing demon

enter you bhai?”

“Arey Kushal, you dont know? He is writing to express

himself, to pour down his private feelings on paper” , I added.
Amrik signaled me to shut up.

“Private feelings?”

“No kushal. Dont listen to this little monster. I have been

writing since childhood yaar. It's just that I lost touch in the
middle. Now that we have no work anyways, I have resumed
it.”

Little Monster???????? Ahhhhhh! Amrik, baah! Why did he

call me like that? Are all men like this? Don't they ever
understand what a girl feels? Doesn't he really know what
Love is?

Hmm.....I kept wondering what to do? I thought how I could

make use of the Culture Diversity workshop where all of us
would be together. He picked up a jalebi and started eating it.
Yes!! My bulb lit! I knew God had given me a chance.
“Jalebiiiiiiii”, I shouted “Where did you get it from? ” I jumped
up from the chair, went to the canteen, picked up one and
came back. This was the right chance to tell him that the girl
in his story is me.

I enjoyed eating the jalebi, but he didn't seem to understand

what I was telling him. Kushal knew what I was trying to do. I
wish Amrik could also understand.

After lunch, we went back to the training room and occupied

our systems. Amrik was telling Kushal about his confusion
and his story. I could see the passion he had for his story and
for the girl he had imagined in it. He thought he could find his
imagination in Mahati. Maybe he is not wrong. I did not knew
Mahati very well, I did hear of her attitude and ego problems,
but you never knew, maybe Mahati and Amrik are made for
each other? In that case, what am I doing here? But, is it
true? Does Amrik really lover her so much? Will he go and tell
her? And what about my love? I don't know....

Kushal came and sat beside me after listening to Amrik. He

started telling me about Amrik's love for that girl in his story. I
signaled him not to talk about it here in this room. Let's go out
and discuss.

“You're right Sahana. He doesn't love Mahati. He just loves

the girl in his story and he is in a misunderstanding that
Mahati is like the girl in his story,” Kushal said

“I know that Kushal. But, the question still remains that how to
make him realize that?”

“I have an idea. The way he is writing a story about his love

and using Mahati's name in it, I think you should also write a
story expressing your love and use Amrik's name in it”
Wow! This was a nice idea. I could also write a story the way
he did and express all my feelings through it. I went back to
my system and started writing immediately. I know I couldn't
write as good as him but I had to do this. I titled my story as 'I
TOO DON'T KNOW WHAT LOVE IS'.

The crescent moon played hide and seek with the white fluffy
clouds. As night fell and stars came out, I gazed at the dark
sky and let my hair flow out open and enjoy the cool breeze.
He came from behind and embraced me. He knows he loves
me and I know I love him. He is none other than Amrik, my
love. I turned back towards him. The breeze got cooler. He
held my hands interlocking his fingers with mine. His body
slightly pressed against mine. “I love you”, I told him. “I love
you too”, he replied. He slightly bent over me his cheek
touching mine. My breaths started getting heavier. I
embraced him tightly and lay in his arms for long. My head
rested on his shoulder as he caressed my hair. He looked at
me and so did I. Our eyes were lost in each other. His nose
touched mine and so did his lips.

I saved it and read it. Yuck! I had written so badly! And I had
written all stupid stuff which I shouldn't. He would not
understand. Kushal was standing behind and reading it. I
immediately covered the monitor with my hands.

“Don't read it, It's not good”, I said.

“Come on, let me read”, he said moving his head zigzag and
trying to read.

“No Kushal, please, leave it. It's not at all good. You are
embarrassing me”

“Huh?! You and your embarrassment. When will you come

out of it?” I switched the monitor off.
“I am not going to send it to him”, I said

“But why? How else would he come to know?”

“Let him not come to know. I don't care”

“What? You're crazy? How can he not come to know? You

have to tell him one or the other day”

“No, Kuhsal, I won't tell him. I know I love him but he doesn't
love me and I don't even expect him to.”

“What??”, he asked in surprise.

“Yes. I know I love him very much. Loving is not wrong, it is
neither bad. But, expecting your love to love you back is
wrong and you need to learn that. If I expect him to love me
back, I am being unfair, I am being selfish, that's not true love.
I would continue to love him, to admire him and to respect
him, I would always wish that he is happy in life, but I would
not expect him to love me back.”, I said small tears dropping
out.

“It is very very difficult to do what you're saying. It is easy to

say all this, but, tell me will you ever be able to forget him?
Will you ever be able to love someone else as much as you
love him?”

“I don't know......But, I know that I love him and I don't want

him to love me. I am not fit for his love”

“Huh?! Sahana, what are you made of? I can't believe this. I
have never met a person like you before. I mean you would
love him forever without expecting him to love you back.”, he
sighed, “But, maybe this is true Love. Loving your love not
expecting him/her to love you back. Unconditional Love!
Maybe that is the purest form of love! Wow! I am amazed at
your concept of love. I am so lucky to have a friend like you!”
I couldn't reply anything. I remained silent and hid my tears.
The culture diversity workshop began a bit late, at IST (Indian
Standard Time), and I was happy, I was sitting beside Amrik. I
decided that this was the time to get detached from his love. I
would rather help him find his love in Mahati. That would
someway give me satisfaction. I would be happy that he is
happy. I suggested him to make good use of this opportunity
to get close to Mahati.

Mahati walked in with her friends and as she was searching

for a place to sit, I got up & went beside Kushal who was on
Amrik's left, and thankfully, Mahati occupied the seat next to
Amrik. The workshop began asking us to fill up a form about
our personal details.

“Excuse me....Er... Do you have a pencil?”, he asked slightly

stammering.

I was happy, he overcame his fears and made the start. But, I
wondered what made him ask for a pencil?? I and Kushal
smiled at each other.
“Pencil?? Well.. yes, I think I have it” and she took out one
from her purse.
“Thank You”
“Welcome”

What happened later is known to everyone. Mahati's egoistic

behavior, her attitude finally came out in public. I could read
Amrik's face. I was supposed to be happy that finally he
realized the truth but I don't know why I wasn't feeling so. I felt
bad for Amrik, his heart was broken.

After the workshop, Kushal left for home. I and Amrik were
left in each other's company. I knew I had to cheer him up
now. I took him to the recreation area and we decided to play
caroms. My bulb lit again. Maybe I could repeat the jalebi
scene? But, will he understand it? There is no harm in trying!
I was damn nervous. I took the coins and set them in a
beautiful pattern, sprinkled powder over the board (the bottle
almost slipped from my hand but I managed to hold it), I
folded my sleeves upwards, took the striker, pressed my
thumb over the middle finger ( I looked at him if he was
observing at all, he looked at me but seemed to be wondering
about something), and released it on the striker which hit the
pool of coins hard pushing one white coin into one of the
holes.

“Yes”, I shouted “Me whites, you blacks”, I announced.

“Good shot”, he said appreciating me.

“Thank You”, I said.

“You know something? I have been trying to tell you

something since long”

Wow! This works!! It is going just as he had mentioned in his

story. I guess he realized it.

“Oh! Really?”, I asked a bit tensed.

“Yeah. About the way you enjoy small small things in life.
Like, the way you enjoyed eating jalebi in
the canteen, and now the way you are enjoying this game of
caroms”

Yes!!!! Yes!!!! It worked. It is going the way it ought to. No

looking back now. Thank God!!!!!

“Oh! That's how I am!”

“I know and that makes you so adorable”

“Thanks”
“Abracadbraca....mushteepushtee kushlymachimo.....”, I
uttered making those mystical gestures with my hands.

“Oh! Come on, you can be so kiddish at times sahana!”, he

said.

Wow! It couldn't get better than this. He had replaced Mahati

with Sahana.

“Bhagwan, please please please Queen mujhe de do”, I

prayed folding my hands. He hit the striker wantedly slow so
that I get the chance to take the Queen.

“Yes!!”, I clapped my hands.

“There is something else also I want to tell you”, he said

again.

“What?”, I asked curiously.

“You are so child-like. When will you grow up?”

“Why should I grow up. I love the way I am”

“I too”

“What?!”

“Hun? Em..nothing...i too ...i mean I said.......nothing....I

meant......I....no you......but......I LOVE YOU”,

“I too”

“What?!”

“I mean......em....er …....i mean I said.......no......actually.....I

LOVE YOU TOO”, I replied.
I was on top of the world. I knew no bounds of joy. It worked. I
thanked God and then thanked Kushal. I finally achieved my
love and so did he. I guess we were made for each other.

I went home and recollected that I had the best moments of

my life. That night as I stood in the balcony, I found a ladder
running down from it.

The crescent moon played hide and seek with the white fluffy
clouds. As night fell and stars came out, I gazed at the dark
sky and let my hair flow out open and enjoy the cool breeze.
He came from behind and embraced me.....

Back to Book Map

~~~~~~~~
 PIZZA,
PUFF
AND
POPCRON
Long long ago, a grand birthday party was being thrown for
children. A lot of money and time was spent arranging it.
Interior designers, fashion designers, event managers and
five star cooks were hired. Each of them took utmost care in
working for this party.

The food designers and cooks came together to finalize the

menu and went through a list of dishes – italian, chinese,
mexican, south indian, punjabi, gujarati etc etc etc.

Various foods and dishes competed each other to grace the

occasion but only few made it to the final menu. And one of
them was the everyone's favorite, the pizza. But, many of the
others couldn't make it like the puff and the popcorn and they
were dejected at their loss.

"I am round, soft and cheesy", the pizza gave a furious reply
to the puff who was debating on who among the three was
best.

"So what? You are cut into four to six pieces and shared
among your eaters but i am exclusive to whoever owns me",
replied Puff.

"Huh?! But, what are you...just a few layers of thin wafers and
negligible stuffings", pizza grumbled.

"None of you are good enough. It is me who is ultimately

preferred", popcorn popped in.

"Who says so? You are good at nothing but popping aloud",
the puff puffed.

“Exactly, you are only good at popping loud, that's it. No one
is interested to munch you”, the pizza added.

“Yes, and I am the best of all”, puff declared.

"You are wrong buddy, it is me who is preferred in cafes and
restaurants where a majority of the youngsters dwell and they
all love me. And it is me who made it to the final menu of this
party also. I have so much variety in me, so many brands in
me, so many different kinds of toppings with me. I have
different flavours across different countries in the world. I
come in different sizes. I am also home delivered to millions
across the world.", the pizza declared.

Puff and Popcorn stared at this round shaped cheesy-weesy

bread completely startled. They were awe-struck. Actually
what the pizza said was true, popcorn hardly came in 4-5
flavours and the puff hardly had 3-4 stuffing types, but a pizza
hut menu had more than 30 varieties of pizzas. Popcorn and
puff were never home delivered to anyone, neither they had
so many brands into it where as for the pizza, there was
Pizza Hut, Dominos, Pizza Corner and many more. Both of
them knew that they couldn't outwit pizza easily.

“I guess we need to change ourselves. There is a necessity to

adopt a new strategy.”, popcorn remarked.

“Huh?! Nothing at all. Just be yourself. No one can harm us”,

puff replied.

But, popcorn was determined, it had realized the changing

needs of changing markets. Though puff did not agree and
refused to accept change, popcorn was undeterred. But,
change wasn't that easy a solution to face the competition.
Many ideas came by but there was none which could beat the
Pizza. It had to do something different.

It knew it had to change but the question was how? It started

a survey in the city. It set out to see the cafes, restaurants,
malls, multiplexes and all other places where people love to
eat food. It decided to ask all the other consumable items on
sale about their success stories.
"Whatever you plan to do, let me tell you, times have
changed, our customers want new things. Conventional
things do not survive in the market anymore. You need to be
different. Look at me, i had to change my name three times.
Though my content is same, i am offered in three different
names - Pepsi, Coke and Thums Up. Not only this, i have
several superstars endorsing me from hollywood to
kollywood. I am served in bottles and cans of different shapes
and sizes. It's time for you also to change", the carbonated
black drink advised.

"My sales had dropped drastically after the entry of new

biscuits and cookies. People completely forgot me and hence
i decided to change my appearance. Today i am known as
Marie Gold, Crispy Marie, Original Marie, Nestle Marie,
Golden Marie etc. I am happy to be dipped in million cups of
tea.", the crisp biscuit said.

One thing was clear - a change was required to lure the

market. But, what would that change be? Should it be the
marie and cola way - same content in different forms or
should it be the pizza way - different contents and different
forms? What could the change be?

“When I was launched in the market, I was an instant hit and I

continue to be so till today. And thankfully, my success has
had the fortune to enjoy the monopoly in the market. I hardly
have any competition”, Maggi remarked, “There are other
brands but they couldn't leave much impact and this is
because of my strong hold over my customers and my
marketing strategies. But, in my case there hasn't been much
necessity to change, I have remained the same since years
and people still love me. There were a couple of other flavors
introduced but that didn't add much to my success. I am still
preferred in the classic flavor and I am the best till date! Do
you know what made me achieve this status?”
Popcorn was clueless, it had no answer to this question.
Unlike the other two items it had interviewed, the colas and
the marie, maggi's story was different. It never changed itself,
it remained what it is and managed to be on the top of the
sales chart every year.

“Quality! It is my quality which no one has been able to match

till date and hence I continue to rule. And yes, thanks to my
marketing directors too!”, Maggi remarked.

So, apart from changing oneself, it was equally important to

maintain good quality and then you should ensure that you
market it well too! A tough task indeed.

Popcorn became aware that it had to change(maintaining

quality and good marketing), it had this desire to beat
competition which would come through change. It had
conducted a survey and acquired the knowledge on how to
change. But, how far would it succeed? And how far will it be
able to sustain this change?

It decided to conduct one more last survey before it could

begin to work on itself. And this time it approached the
leading potato chips brand in the world – Lay's.

“Oh! Please, don't call me a potato chips brand”, Lay's

squeaked, “I have so many other lovely flavors like Tangy
Tomato, Cream and Onion, Hot and Spicy carribean, Magic
Masala and quite a few Indian flavors too. And don't you dare
again call me a potato chip brand, got it?”

“Em..Sorry Sir”, popcorn apologized politely, “But, sir I would

like to know how you managed to remain so successful in
spite of competition?”

“Well.....not a big deal you know....Even before I was

established there were a few other brands like Uncle Chips,
Peppy etc. but there was the necessity for a global brand,
which could bring different flavors from different countries to
different countries. So, when I was launched, I started with
two flavors initially, classic salted and magic masala. There
was nothing new about this, but the way I was marketed was
brilliant and that played the tricks. There was no looking back
then on.....then came a variety of several flavors and new
ones are still coming.”

It thanked Lay's and went back to Puff and Pizza to share the
research. Popcorn tried persuading puff again and telling it
about the necessity to change but if only it would listen. It
then approached Pizza to tell how it had discovered the three
secrets – Quality, Marketing and change Management.

“It's good to know that you've been researching so thoroughly

on this”, the pizza exclaimed.

“Yes, and I'll be back with a bang soon with improved quality,
great marketing and a well managed change and then we
shall compete again”

"But, I have an advice to give you, if you're interested to

listen.”

Advice? Initially it was skeptical as to why Pizza, the biggest

competitor would advise on this? But, then there was no harm
in listening. So, it agreed.

“Quality and marketing are the essentials as always but the

new component which has arrived recently is change
management. Whether the change is large or small, the
ability to manage it is a critical component of high
performance", Pizzas advised, “Many of us fail to realize the
importance of changing ourselves. We get used to our routine
life and fear to move out of our comfort zone. But, the fact
remains that when we move out, we overcome our fears and
become more confident. The change may be anything, small
or big, urgent or important, but the way we implement the
change in our life is very important.

First of all, we need to be AWARE of the market, it's trends

and when it would demand a change from us.

Then, comes the DESIRE to change for the better and to

improve our self.

The next step would be to ACQUIRE knowledge on how to

change and what to change. Once, we thoroughly understand
what we want to change and how we are going to do it, half of
the battle is won.

We should have the ABILITY to implement the change in an

appropriate way and for it, we need to use our skills.

The final and the most important step towards change

management is to SUSTAIN the change we are bringing
about. If we cannot sustain the new change, it would be a
waste of time and energy to have spent it in changing
ourselves. Hence, the change we bring about should be
sustainable and of use to not only us but also others."

The popcorn was amazed to see the pizza's gyaan about

change management. It never expected someone like the
Pizza to help in spite of such heavy competition.

“But I have a question. Which way are you going to adopt

your change? The colas and marie way or the Lay's way?”,
pizza asked.

"I cannot make sense by changing my name or shape, people

have always enjoyed me in my original form. Having different
flavors and colors is a better way of appealing people. This
would give me the ability to manage the change and sustain
it. Now, I will be available in caramel, butter, cream and onion,
tomato and many other flavors. I would be given with the
colas in a combo offer at the multiplexes as well", popcorn
said.

"So good to see you changing with the time and market
needs.", the pizza said.

And the rest is history. We all know how popular the popcorn
is today, no movie is complete without it.

Back to Book Map

~~~~~~~~
SECTION II

POEMS
ARTICLES
REVIEWS
 Let Me Dance

Let Me Dance like the kids

free from fear and full of laughter
let me rotate round in the circle
the never ending circle of joy and bliss
feeling young, back in time, in childhood
let me forget my life for a moment
as i jump, hand in hand with the universe

Let Me Dance in co-ordination

for each step they take,
let me also make the move
after all this world is a place
where all elements work together
let us all make the mark here
if one falls let the other take care
if one rises let others love him

Let Me Dance as a Dude

rocking on the streets
as people watch me
let me twist my body
in total perfection
let me blow like the wind
spinning fast through this world
turning tipsy topsy
my curves wander everywhere
 Let Me Dance freakily
like a crazy woman
soaked in trance
unknown unaware of time
from past to future
let me make all the moves
who knows what the step meant

Let Me Dance with best of the best

a show which would be remembered
for centuries to come by this world
a dance which was never performed
which would not be attempted again
let me spread the energy limitlessly

Let Me Dance wild and unstoppable

with the highest degree of energy
music blasting my ears, adding fuel
to the fire in my burning heart
let my feet not remain on this land
neither the sea nor the dancing floor

Let Me Dance Bollywood iShtyle

as thousands of crowds cheer
I sweep plenty of awards
a sparkling show of stars
creating history in cinema
living life of a legend
 Let Me Dance passionately
undiscovered moods and faces
expressions which no one ever saw
let me express through my body
to the tunes of the unheard
as they sing new ragas
like a live painting
my dance remains immortal

Let Me Dance for myself

liberating my mind body & soul
free from anything in this universe
in extreme bliss and joy
ecstasy at unknown levels
boundless happiness & love
i now move on
for the soul within

Let Me Dance for the divine

who gave me this talent
as a gift to my life
to whom everything belongs
i owe him whatever he asks
in spiritual longing
let me dance for
dance is my life &
dance is my passion
let me dance
just let me dance......

Back to Book Map

~~~~~~~~
 1990 Love Calling

I took my headphone jack, inserted into my phone, played

'Rehna Tu' from Delhi-6 and began to sleep. The first day of
my last weekend in May ended. Tomorrow would be Sunday
and as usual a boring day.I wonder what would I do for the
rest of the day? No new movies to watch, no new malls to
window shop, no friends to hang out with and no more
interesting books also to read.

But, hey, there is one thing I can do. Go to Maratha Mandir in

Mumbai Central to watch the morning show of Dilwale
Dulhania Le Jayenge at 11.15am. Hmmm.....but what would I
say to my guardian uncle? He would definitely mock and
laugh if I told them I was going to watch a 14 year old movie
which I've seen quite a number of times on the television. And
I would go all the way to Mumbai Central to watch it? But who
cares, come on be bindaas! I don't care what they say or how
they react. I want to watch the movie and I know it would be
fun to.

The next morning, I went to the station very excitedly and

boarded the train towards churchgate. I then realized, if I
could get down at Bandra and board a fast local, I would
reach five minutes earlier. So, I did it. I reached Mumbai
Central station within twenty minutes and walked my way out
of it straight to the Maratha Mandir which was opposite to it.

The poster of DDLJ in which SRK & Kajol lay in each other's
arms amongst the backdrop of yellow mustard fields hung
from the maratha mandir walls. The poster also had a huge
'700' in golden color meaning the movie had completed
running for over 700 weeks now. I was pretty excited, walking
fast, blood gushing through my veins with double speed and
chest expanding and lips smiling.
“Dilwale Balcony Chaalis, Dilwale Balcony Chaalis”, the man
at the gate holding tickets and notes of money in his hand
shouted. He said that the hall had become house full and so I
had to buy the ticket from him in black for Rs.40, double the
actual cost. But, I did not mind. I bought one ticket and
marched my way through the theater.

“Dulhania Balcony Chaalis, Dulhania Balcony Chaalis”,

another man shouted inside the near the entrance of the hall.
I wondered what made him shout Dulhania while the former
one had shouted Dilwale as if one was from the groom's side
and other from the bride's. I entered the hall, lifted my hands
for a quick security check and walked my way upwards
towards the balcony.

I had not expected the theater to be 'not so bad'. It was like a

modern middle-class palace. Modern because it still
managed not to look bad, palace because it was huge and
had an interesting ethnic design but it did not look so royal, so
middle-class. I went and occupied my seat but I was shocked
to find half the hall empty. I was cheated, the man at the gate
lied to me so that he could sell his ticket.

But, never mind, I am too excited to worry or feel bad now. I

showed my ticket to the torch bearer conductor ( I call him
conductor because he is to the theater what a conductor is to
the bus) and he guided me to the seat. The conductor then
asked me if I was single. I nodded my head in reply. He
requested me to occupy another seat as there were two
couples who wanted to sit near my seat but they had got
separate tickets. I did not hesitate at all. My excitement to
watch the movie was above all.

The screen finally glowed. There was a welcome message by

the theater authorities. I quickly ensured if my phone and
wallet were there in the right place, it does become difficult
sometimes to trust people in middle-class theaters.
The hall was slowly and steadily filling. I was wondering how
Aditya Chopra had managed to make such a movie which is
a world record. And imagine the money it must have
generated. I mean people still buy the ticket to watch DDLJ in
black. Wow!

And then the screen requested us to stand up in honor of the

national anthem. We followed its instructions and payed due
respects to the national anthem, the pride of the country. As it
ended and just before the movie was about the begin,
everyone clapped. Initially I did not understand why and I
joined my hands together but later realized they were just
welcoming yet another screening of this classic movie.

The certificate of the film appeared followed by the yashraj

logo. And then came the title of the film with the signature
guitar tune in the background. The hall was filled with
thunderous cheers, cat calls and whistles. The opening scene
had amrish puri feeding pigeons of london and expressing his
love and longing for his motherland. And the moment Punjab
was shown, the mustard fields, the dupatta clad women,
there were whistles again.

'Shah Rukh Khan as Raj', 'Kajol as Simran', both the titles

appeared. Whistles again. Kajol made her appearance on the
screen. Whistles again. Shah Rukh made his appearance on
the screen. Whistles again. And I lost count, people kept
applauding, whistling and cat calling.

I couldn't believe how I myself started enjoying the movie so

much. I felt as though I was watching it for the first time and
later realized I was actually watching it for the first time in a
theater in Hindi. I remember when the movie was released in
1995, I had to watch the dubbed version in Telugu as they
was no theater which would screen the hindi version in
Rajahmundry, the place where I lived then. I did watch the
movie a couple of times on the television but did not watch it
at a stretch on 70mm screen. So, it was actually the first time
for me that I was experiencing the magic of this movie.

Men couldn't help stare at Kajol's flying short skirt in 'Mere

Khawabon mein jo aaye' and everyone laughed when Raj
dropped Simran at the end of the song 'Ruk Jaa O Dil
Deewane' . They both entertained us again in 'Zara sa jhoom
loon mein'. We could feel their love for each other during 'Ho
gaya hai tujhko to pyaar sajna'. Every scene of the film was
enjoyable, whether it is Simran and her family, Raj and his
dad , Raj & Simran with their friends or just they both.

The rimming sound of the opener flirting with drink bottles

filled our ears during the intermission. I was amazed to find
the hall filled completely by this time. There was not even a
single empty chair. I bought two samosas and a mango drink.
I went back in time and wondered how long it had been when
I had watched a movie like this in a single screen theater. I
wondered when was the last movie I saw, when these many
people gathered and I witnessed so many cat calls? When
was the last time we actually got into the skin of the
characters in the film we were watching. All this phenomenon
was almost a decade old now. All this happened only in the
1990s.

When the most romantic song of the decade 'Tujhe dekha to

ye jaana sanam' played, we all lost into our own imaginations
and love affairs. And the caption of the film 'Come...fall in
love' came true. We all fell in love with Raj, Simran, this
movie, the songs, the actors, everyone. And we continue to
do so even today. But, the entertainment the previous decade
gave us is unmatchable. Ah! Those were the days.

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 Dancing on the lonely beach:
Cool breeze and waving palm trees welcome me as I open
my arms to embrace them. The whole universe seems to be
right here, on this lonely beach. I wave my hands to the
helicopter flying by and imagine how the beach would look
from there - up above. The sea waves kissing the sand belt
passionately on the lonely beach and the nature around
enjoying their love. I jump with joy and move my body,
swirling around in love with the scene. I run towards the
waves as they recede, I run back when they proceed towards
me. I run towards the palms and express my joy to them and
they wave in response. I run along the long beach throwing
my hands in the air as the waves come and wash my feet. I
rotate, jump, run and bounce. I kick my feet into the sand
making it fly, I collect some water in the cup of my hands and
throw it high. It comes down crashing on my face and I smile.
I see the horizon and my eyes glow up. I lay down in the lap
of the beach. Sea waves come and kiss me and I feel shy. I
surrender myself completely to them - the sea, beach, and
the music. The music of my soul, music of the crashing
waves, music of the embracing breeze, the music of my
dance. I wish for my heart's desires and jump again with
ecstasy. I dance as if no one were watching me. I dance on
this lonely beach to my heart felt joy.

I call this a 'magic moment'. We all have magic moments in

our life but we pretend as though it were a stranger to us. We
experience pure love and the power of this universe at least
once in a day and that is our magic moment. But, why do we
ignore it? Why do we not realize the beauty of it?

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 Fail to Succeed:

It's a full moon night and i am walking lonely near the lake,
completely unknown of my destination, wandering all over the
place and enjoying the scenic beauty. Questions arise in my
mind as to what i want to be and what i want to achieve.
"Success" is the first obvious reply to come from the inside.
Success in achieving my goal, in pursuing my dreams and
following my purpose. But then, I think all these thoughts are
too heavy for the bright moonlit night. Why not forget the
world and just enjoy it.

I stare at the silver moon for a long time and it's crystal
reflection in the lake. They don't seem to leave each other.
The brighter the moon gets, the brighter is the reflection. The
moment the moon hides itself behind a cloud, so does the
reflection. I wished for only the moon, then why do i get this
unwanted reflection?? It was then that i realized the laws of
nature. The laws which bind this entire Universe, no one can
escape from them, not even the law creator himself, then
what am I after all?

And hence, i had no other choice but to accept the reflection.

I spent some time standing near the lake under a huge tree
with my eyes stuck to the bright full moon reflection on the
crystal waters. There was mist all over and the surroundings
were filled with silver light from the moon. Very soon i realized
that the reflection was in fact more beautiful than the original
celestial ball.

The moon was too high in the sky to touch but i had this
reflection which i could touch, feel and play with. I left the lake
to become still and the waves to settle so that i could see the
reflection clearly. And there it was - the most beautiful sight i
could have ever seen, the full crystal clear moon surrounded
by millions of twinkling stars. Absolutely wonderful and
mystical, as if I were just dreaming.
Then i lifted my face to see the beautiful painting. I wished if I
were the moon, soaring up in the sky in the company of
millions of bright sparkling stars.

That was the night i realized the laws of nature - if you want
the moon, accept it's reflection. If you want SUCCESS,
accept FAILURE because failure is nothing but success' own
reflection. Treat both of them as if they were same. Failure is
nothing but the beginning of success. Stare at your failures
and learn from them and then lift your face to see the success
you achieved from your failure. If you want to have stars
around you, if you want to make great friends, you need to
accept enemies. Treat your friends and enemies equally. And
then life becomes more beautiful than ever. So remember,
Want to be successful, You need to fail then...

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~~~~~~~~
 We all have been successful:
After spending nine tedious months in her womb, finally one
day I was declared to be "born successfully" to my mother.
That was my first success!! And since then, I have been
successful in many other ventures i took up. Very soon, i
learnt to express myself successfully using my face
expressions, voice and hand gestures. I started walking soon
and could go around my house. I started speaking small
words in hindi and sindhi successfully. And success became
an integral part of my life. As i grew up, i performed many
other acts successfully. Not only me, but we all have been
successful all through our lives. We have been successful in
living our life the way we were supposed to. We all have been
successful in performing the job alloted to us by the almighty.
We all have been successful by just being ourself - the true
inner self!

So shed all your inhibitions right now and realize that even
you are one of those highly successful individuals! The very
fact that you are physically fit, breathing properly and reading
this article proves that you have been highly successful.
Anyone can be successful by just being his/her true self. You,
me and the whole universe is highly successful right now!

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~~~~~~~~
 An Actor's Biography:

I am an actor
my face speaks I am not the actor
and so do my eyes for glamor, fame
i work to express or anything same
what i feel & think for controversies
to blush & blink or going overseas

I am the actor I am an actor

who entertains for destiny wants
by cracking up me to be one
often on myself many awards
by dancing, are yet to be won
to the tunes
of the cosmos I am the actor
my cheers and smiles
I am not an actor spread across miles
to show off my views and opinions
what I am made of are seen by millions
to publicize
my skin or kin

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~~~~~~~~
 Random Bits of Futuristic News:
Ever wondered what kind of news would make it to the
headlines 200 years from now?? Take a look:

What Happened in 2009:

Proxima Centauri , which is 200 light years away from the
Earth can tell us our history better through Ultra Speed
wireless data transfer technology called Hi-Wi-Fi! The star
which is 200 light years away which means the light reflected
from our planet Earth would take 200 years to reach them,
which in turn means they can see what happened 200 years
ago on our planet. Isn't that interesting? And they have
agreed to broadcast the videos which they are capturing back
to us via the Hi-Wi-Fi. So, we can see what happened in 2009
today right in our homes. For more information, log onto:
www.whathappenedin2009.com

Robots help us to shift to Mars:

The united global robots foundation have decided to help
human beings in our inter-terrestrial shift to mars. The
secretary of the foundation x23i9 declared in a press
conference, " We as robots have continuously strived for the
welfare of humans. Our basic purpose of existence is to serve
mankind and make their lives better. So, facing the threat of
doomsday in 2246, we have decided to help the entire
mankind to safely migrate over to Mars." The relations
between humans and robots have not been so cordial for the
past 6 months facing a threat of revolution from them. The
fight had started when a few Jr. Artiste robot had protested to
play lead role in a bollywood film which became an incident of
global concern followed by other protests by robots all over
the world. This new motive of the machines to help humans
may help to resolve matters and bring in peace.
A butterfly fashion designer:
Research Cyborgs in Florida have come up with a new
robotic butterfly called Mima, which can assist you as a
personal secretary and also design your clothes! It is a small
machine weighing 645.33 grams, made of pure steel and
contains the AI brain 2.3. It's specially made tiny wings and
hands help it to design clothes of any style. Also, it has
PersonalDiary 3.4 installed on it which helps it maintain your
contacts, appointments and meetings. It has been priced at
Rs.2450/- and will be commercially available from next
second.

By the Robots and for the Robots:

The first ever bollywood film to be made by robots and to
have both it's lead actors as robots is ready for launch.
Produced and Directed by RiaaX2.45, the film has MansY11
and Shreya143 playing the lead roles. Music is by
Rahmaniya3.0 and the film will be released on 11th
september.

First exhibition of teleportation:

The first ever public display of teleportation had witnessed a
huge turn out yesterday for a theater performance on the life
of Lord Krishna. For years, teleportation has been confined
only to research centers, but now, it has been out in public.
Teleportation is the technology of transporting an object to a
different location through wireless waves. This technology
was used to depict how Lord Krishna could disappear at one
place and then appear at another.

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~~~~~~~~
 The Great Boot Polish
Competition of 1958:
Old and withered black shoes in the left hand and Shoe
Polish in the right hand, thousands of people waited for the
event to begin. No, it was not an exchange offer for shoes but
it was the Great BOOT-POLISH competition of 1958. Since
there were more rivals coming up in the market, one of the
leading shoe polish brands had a new concept of marketing.
"Polish your shoe and win huge money" - were the slogans
being announced all over the city of New York. A grand
advertising campaign and innovative marketing techniques
played their tricks on the people. 14th of September saw a
huge crowd assemble at the Times Square and the purpose -
polishing their shoes!

People do anything for money - believe me, absolutely

anything. An insignificant action which only school children
and white collar workers would do everyday was made so
attractive and exciting that more than a quarter of new york
people were there ignoring every other important thing in their
life. And no points for guessing that the mid week of
September, 1958 shattered all the records for polish
equipment sales. Something which would cost around less
than 100 could give a chance to win 1,00,000! So, why not
try?

They were all there - from rich businessmen to the hot dog
vendor next street. From blacks to whites, children to adults,
engineers to doctors and wonder who else. And there were
some with black marks on their cheeks signifying the amount
of practice they had done at home, one of them being
Andrew. 1 lakh wasn't a small amount that time, though it may
sound peanuts for us today.
Doing his honors in microbiology, Andrew was one of those
smart, intelligent and ambitious guys, who had a very clear
goal in life and dedicated his blood to it. He knew he would
make it BIG one day and he was desperately desperate for
that day. If the desperate desperation were to take a human
form desperately, it would be Andrew. Immensely desperate
for success and recognition, he would go through every little
opportunity that comes by his way to make it BIG. Little did he
knew that everything in this Universe had a time frame. If he
had to be successful and popular, it would take time, but as i
said, he was desperately desperate for it NOW!

Winning the great BOOT-POLISH competition was not

normal, his photograph would be on the front page of every
newspaper, his video holding the winning trophy would be on
every other channel, he would win 1,00,000 with which he
could start his own enterprise. Dreaming all these, he set out
to participate in this grand marketing trick. One whole month
of research and hard work followed. What would happen if a
shoe made of leather and a paste made of wax meet? How
can this chemical reaction be enhanced to make the shoe
shine better?

"Hey, I am not that bad at chemistry....equally good at it.

Probably I can combine my biology also to pursue my future
in Bio-Chemistry", he thought. Now this was the most
disturbing thing about Andrew, his timidity. For every new
opportunity he would discover, he would get more confused
about his career. And this confusion would never end. More
the opportunities, more the confusion. He would think he is fit
enough for every other talent out there and he would end up
being a jack of all trades, master of none. He knew he had to
master only one talent if he wished to make it BIG, but this
awareness was of no help. He continued to be confused in
life and washed his hands with whichever river came by his
way.
"I have been sent to this world to fulfill a unique job, I have a
fixed destiny, all i need to do is find the secret path to it and
unlock the mystery", he pondered. His insecurity that he may
die without letting the world know him made him timid. His
fear that he may die a normal death without becoming
popular, without achieving his goal, without accomplishing his
dreams, worsened the situation and he ended up in polishing
his shoes 10 times every day for 30 long days just in case he
wins this great competition and all his dreams would come
true. There is nothing wrong in expecting good results,
especially if you have worked so hard and hey, who doesn't
want recognition in life? Even you do....but would it be OK to
polish my shoe on the street in front of thousands for that
recognition? Well, there is no right or wrong answer for this
but it all depends on the perspective. Perspective of the
individual about good and bad, about right and wrong, about
BIG and small, about success and failure, about being
popular or unpopular.

Old and withered black shoes in the left hand and Shoe
Polish in the right hand, even he set out to be a part of this
great historic competition and to make a difference, to be on
the front page of the newspaper next day, to be on the
television screens of lakhs of people on the same day. He
was supremely confident about his victory, after all he has
worked extremely hard and he has wished for this from the
bottom of his heart truly and Paulo Coelho says "When you
wish for something truly, the whole universe conspires for you
to achieve it". He could sense that universe at Times Square
on that day. They all were there, thousands of participants,
only to lose so that Andrew could have won. They were all
there, from rich businessmen to the hot dog vendor next
street, from blacks to whites, children to adults, engineers to
doctors, to conspire for Andrew's victory.

The press could witness a mad crowd that day, busy making
a leather piece shine to excellence. Within a few minutes, it
would end and the jury would walk through thousands of
shoes to pick only one, the one which would shine bright and
sparkle! Andrew could recollect each and every moment he
had gone through the whole of previous month for this one
day, for this one moment, for his one shoe to be picked up.
He could recollect how the "Polish your shoe and win huge
money" marketing slogan caught his attention. As his
memories rewinded, the judge forwarded to look at more
shoes, to pick up a shoe which was extremely striking,
sparkling and shining. He went ahead in search of that X
factor. He examined each shoe thoroughly, hand picked a few
and tested their genuineness. The crowd would surround the
judge(and even fall on him), they would move along with him
shoe by shoe. Photographers were busy clicking pics of
thousands of them. They appeared as though Edison's
thousand attempts of inventing the bulb were on display.
Some were dim, some too glary while some never lit. As the
judge approached Andrew's shoes, his eyes twinkled, he
could see them - dark like the night and bright like the
stars.......

The next day -

"FROM RAILWAY PLATFORM TO THE PATH OF GLORY"

The New York Times, 15th of September: He resides at the
New York Railway platform, he earns his bread by polishing
other's shoes all day but today he is on top of the world. Meet
Sebastian, the winner of the Great BOOT-POLISH
competition. Sebastian is the winner of 1,00,000 dollars and
his happiness knows no bounds.....

Andrew was shattered, he was taken aback, 30 days of sheer

hard work led him to absolutely nothing. He was totally
unnoticed, someone who was worth nothing stole the show.
After all, what was Sebastian? He wasn't even educated or
had a proper schooling, then how could he win everything?
How could Andrew loose to him? It was shameful...
But wasn't this quite obvious? A boot-polisher like Sebastian
who is a professional at polishing shoes ought to win the
competition, after all he was the best! But, was it fair that
Andrew's hard work was not rewarded? Was it fair for
Sebastian to win the fight when there were so many others
who had worked so hard? Was it fair for the organizers to
allow Sebastian to participate in the competition? You would
not invite professional painters to a painting competition and
then declare them as the winners leaving all others fooled!

Fair or unfair, one thing was sure - Andrew was cheated, by

himself! Yes, he cheated himself by participating in this mega
trick. He cheated himself by not realizing his value. He
cheated himself by getting carried away. He cheated himself
by his haste for making it BIG. He cheated himself by ignoring
the universal truth

The truth that his destiny was inscribed to his fortune before
his birth and he couldn't change it, in fact, no one could. His
path was laid and he had to walk it, there was no looking
back neither any alternate ways. He had to find that path, he
had to hunt for it and then explore it's true potential. Wasn't it
true what Shakespeare had said about us? This world is a
stage and we all are actors. Our roles have been pre-defined,
we need to realize it and play our parts. And this was where
Andrew cheated himself, by not playing his part, by not
realizing his role and it's purpose.

What role will you play in this world or Will you cheat
yourself?

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~~~~~~~~