Devyani

life in a metro

2011-11-26T21:08:00.001-08:00

This is neither an article nor an experience. It just consists of the confessions of a hypocritical mind.

The metro coach was all empty, after all it was a saturday evening, people had better options to opt for than to travel back to Hauz khas from Vaishali at the peak of a chilly evening. The effect of gravity was showing up on a sleep deprived soul. Finally she rested her head against the side pillar and as the wave of life hit her, the moving objects began to turn blurred before her eyes. Life was surely in a motion. Just then the metro stopped at a station and a boy entered the coach. Now there were just the two of them. Instead of staring out into the vacuum, the girl found it rather interesting to examine the boy. And in a minute, she was glued, the boy caught her attention.

He must have been a boy of around 14. He dawned a simple amber checked full shirt which blushed of its dirty state. The green lined trousers were exactly sufficient to be called quarter pants. To add to this vivid pattern, he was wearing sky blue slippers. He was a boy of a dark complexion with oily and rough hair. His big eyes were staring at something that was placed above the girls head. His lips were parted and an expression of awe and inhibitions rules his entire face. He seemed to read something. The girl tunred back and saw a poster. The boy was really trying hard to may be read it. It was a poster regarding the free primary education policy by the government.

The girl smiled suddenly, for she was the one who was always running away from the word 'education'. Bored of the monotomous environment, the girl closed her eyes. But she wanted to observe the new intruder in the coach and she began staring him again. This time, he was looking at the list of the metro stations that were still to come. His soiled hands were trembling gently and his little toes of those cement covered feet wriggled in apprehension. Suddenly, a tear drop rolled down his big black and beautiful eyes.

The girl was confused. It was her first longest travel in a metro and she had made a promise to herself to not to talk to strangers and specially of these kind - with dirty clothes - as they may be goons, thugs or serial killers! "MAY BE"

But then, suddenly she realised that a wave of love hit her. The boy suddnly resembled to her brother and she couldn't see her brother cry. She got up from her seat and sat next to him.

That was when the boy finally spoke up - 'Is this the train which id going to Dwarka?'

The girl laughed at this question and showed him the route chart. That was the only thing he was staring at since the past 20 minutes. 'Yes offcourse! It is all written there.'

And suddenly another tear rolled down from the boy's eye when he said these words - Didi, I don't know how to read, I was too embarassed to ask you. My employer got me a ticket to Dwarka from Vaishali station. He asked me to get down there. I work as a domestic help. This is the first time I am travelling by a metro. I don't belong to Delhi, but nanded, a small town in Maharashtra. I don't want to get lost in such a big city. Please help me!' And he continued to cry.

The empty coach echoed with his faint whimpers and the empty seats stared blankly to me as if waiting for me to say something in response. And the box yelled - Next station is Rajiv Chowk. The doors will open to the right. Mind the Gap. Change here for the blue line.

Before the girl could react, her senses asked her to leave the coach and catch the yellow line for the Hauz Khas metro. She got off the coach and turned back to see him for the last time - a boy who was helpless, a boy who didn't want to be another brick in the wall, a boy who was scared. Their eyes met for a short duration. Before she could say something and retrack her steps, the door closed right on her face and the metro moved on. The nexux ended then and there as the coach with the lone boy disappeared in the deep darkness of the tunnel prving that life moves on in a METRO.

This has an underlying message. Please stop child labour. Those tiny hands are not meant to bear the brunt of the family responsibility but those are meant to hold colourful pencils and paint the world with their imaginations. Please stop reckless wastage of money and donate atleast some part of it for the education of Indian children. Please don't buy your kids automatic gadgets and latest gizmos, but buy them the feelings and the values of humanity. Buy them back those tears which would make them feel that they still are human and have a responsiblity to change the facade of the helpless and poor people.

Globalization, Revolution and time

2011-10-24T02:55:00.000-07:00

The dictionary defines globalization as ‘the merging of international barriers for the promotion of trade and hence facilitate economic development of the countries’.

Charles Darwin coined the theory of evolution. We as early men would have felt proud after accidentally discovering fire, after inventing wheel, after learning how to grow food, after taming animals and most important of all – after realising our position in the pyramid of life. We were not just mere animals, but a better species with a mind to think critically and some potential.

After this kick start, homo-sapiens never looked back. They used one discovery as a base and hence followed innumerable new discoveries and inventions. Eras passes and the environment saw the sea change from ‘early man’ to ‘modern man’. It is though ridiculous that what we thought still remains the same. Earlier we used to wear animal skin and used to hunt animals. Now that it is a modern era, we have become more sophisticated for we wear processed animal skin, that is, leather and we still kill animals for food, but the fact that we used forks and knives to eat them places us at a better position than what we were years back! I just realised that with the passage of time, our ways and methodologies may change but the basic idea, that is its raw form, more or less remains the same.

Globalisation is a term that took birth with the first flake of fire. It is an idea that was conceived long back. That is why man never stopped at any stage but went on exhuming his skills and thoughts to develop something new. That was the time when man was much closer to nature than he is today. He hunted animals, cut trees and used natural resources to fulfil his daily needs but in some way or the other he had also realised the worth of all these in human life. He was also a protector then.

In today’s era, the situations have somewhat changed. Greed made man to extract everything out of nature, be it animals, plants or resources. At the present time, the situation reveals that our future would be in doldrums if we do not get back to the nature now! And hence, after thousands of years, we are standing at the same place from where we started, our role as protectors of the mother nature. Carbon credit system, pacts, treaties and various schemes have come into picture to take care of these.

As man progressed more, he developed family relations and proper communication skills giving rise to a rich variety of dialects and many new languages. There developed society, moral and ethical values. Then came into existence social structure, hierarchies which gave rise to exploitation. Raja Ram Mohan Roy, Ishwar Chandra Vidyasagar, Jyotirao Phule, Peary Charan Sarkar and many more fought against the social practises of Sati, purdah, etc. These were aimed for the social upliftment of the women. These people worked real hard to free the society of such differences and clash of the opinions, they tried their best to remove all these superstitious practices from the society. With the passage of time, this gained momentum and finally acts were passed thus proscribing all these evil customs.

In today’s world, though scenario has changed, the problem still is the same. Every single day we witness innumerable cases wherein a woman is burned to death by her in-laws for dowry or she is raped or she is stoned to death because of accusation of practising witch-craft. Be it female infanticide or trafficking, the thing common in all is the ‘female’. There are many prominent personalities working in this field to provide social stand to women.

It is said that the entire Mahabharata was the brain child of Krishna. Be it the venomous politics of Duryodhana and Shakuni to take over the reign from the Pandavas or be it the diplomatic speech of Lord Krishna to help Arjun win the battle, the things portrayed are clearly visible. Even in the ancient times, people knew how to deceive and dodge. Kaikeyi too didn’t think twice before sending Lord Rama to 14 years of exhile. And the tradition continues. It seems we have genetically acquired this skill from our ancestors as it is clearly visible in today’s world.

Connecting these three words together- that is globalization, revolution and time is an arduous task. But critical examinations clearly reveals the essential nexus. With the each revolution of the earth around the sun and its rotation about its own axis, the universe witnessed change in idea, conflicts in minds and communities. Many people played their roles on the stage of the world and left, but their causes were the same. Globalisation brought countries together for further development. Want of education and improvisation of living standards forced the birth of many great social as well as industrial revolutions of the world. But looking beyond these, the nuances remain the same. Our social values, ethical thinking and traditions have remained the same.

Since times immemorial we have been fighting for the same causes, in the same manner but with different people, be it the environment, or the women or the politics or any other situation.

2011-08-27T08:50:00.000-07:00

It is indeed pathetic to see stupid updates of people on every social networking site. I salute Anna for whatever he is doing. This is indeed for the betterment of the nation; it would kick the asses of those innumerable politicians who are accumulating lots of fat under their skin owing to a daily diet of national money.

Dude! If at all you don't want to support the move which has rekindled fire in lakhs of 'common people', at least don't make a mockery of whatever is happening. What pleasure do you get by making fun of Anna and his supporters? It is not at all funny. Just wait and watch, this tornado will sweep away all the nascent corruption in the country. You all as residents of this nation should try to support this move which in the long run will benefit you all too. A bunch of Indians have developed a mentality of indifference towards the national issues.

I know whatever I am writing is random but this is spontaneous. Recently I saw jokes on Anna, PM and other political persons. Good, that it makes you laugh, but jokes apart at this crucial point of time. You can laugh all your life on any issue, I don’t have any grudge on that. But if at all this move becomes useless just owing to less support than expected then you are to be blamed. Get over this petty mentality people. You are not living in this country free of cost. You pay for everything. And you indeed work hard to support your family, no doubt on that. So, how the hell can you allow a bunch of people with constipated minds to play around with your drop of sweat? They don’t know what getting up at 5 in the morning to catch a bus to an office means! They have no idea as to how it feels on working under the red hot sun to earn a living. But what they know is bank account numbers.

Democracy allows us all to throw this ninny hammers out of the nation. The government of, for and by the people should be turned into a reality. Let us not let these corrupt minds to make a mockery of the same. I read the article by Arundhati Roy. The views she presents are also correct to a certain extent. But that doesn’t mean we should stop the current move. Else, it should be made so strong that it should be one day engraved in the annals of history and no soul should dare to play around with the respect of nation in times to come.

Owing to this political unrest a huge price is being paid by our soldiers. History has been a witness to the same. Since times immemorial these white capped people have been playing with the lives of innumerable people in green army whom we salute. They are the real people.

Our president in Siachen, so what? Can he/she actually get to know what the soldiers there go through in order to keep his/her spects perfectly positioned on her nose. Never, he/she can never! Lok Sabha, Rajya Sabha, scams, blah, blah, blah! So much new for the media. ‘Priyanka Chopra and Shahid spotted together’. ‘Minissha caught at the airport with undeclared foreign purchase’. You enjoy this, don’t you? Well, this jazzes up your morning coffee session. ‘ dabang bags the filmfare’.

And far away from the city traffic, the glamour, a young soldier weeps silently remembering his family, the nostalgic memories. A family photograph in sepia tone reminds him of his other part. His gentle caress on the silhouette marks his decision to save the country from the intruders and sacrifice the family ties, inspite of the overflowing love in both the directions. He knows the value of the soil he is standing on and tears roll down his eyes. His faint whimper is engulfed and lost in the frightening terrain and heights. And in the city, a champagne marks the onset of a wild night party. Yeah, you don’t really care about the desh seva kind of stuff in your language. And then comes the IPL, bidding! The whole nation goes crazy. ‘10 soldiers die in combat with the millitants’, ‘IM takes the responsibility for the blasts’. Dad! I am getting bored of this terrorist news, please change the channel. Yes honey, I need to watch ‘saas bhi kabhi bahu thi’, there is lot of tension going on in mihir’s family. And somewhere in the ice-cold heights, a young commando dies. RIP.

Well, before the things go out of hand, we must put in our best to thwart the bubble of these politicians. ‘Jail bharo’ Andolan is perfect but it could have been superb if all the politicians were locked up to decay till death, incarceration is the best word.

Let us support Anna in every possible manner we can .If you don’t want to indulge in these protests physically, atleast you can write and blog about these happenings and make children aware of what the refusal votes system is. Support the storm now, and get supported later.

Jai hind. Bring on the spirit of ‘Mai Anna Hu’. Long live Anna and his spirit. Don’t leave it upon him. This is just a starting. Let the people with the power see how meagre their power is when it clashes with the people of India. In past, we kicked out the Britishers from the nation by Gandhiji’s support, let us now kick these UNWANTED WEEDS out of the fertile agricultural land of the nation and let us plant seeds of hope for the generations to come! Let us soon celebrate the real independence day. Let us be the winds of change.

Yes we can, can’t we???

Day 1 (Leh, TCV)

2011-08-24T09:21:00.000-07:00

Day 1

It was 19th of july, we had just returned from the jungles of Kanha when I had a look at my semester schedule. Whoa! 20, 21, 22nd of August were the empty spaces and as you know an empty mind is a devil’s den. Something cooked up in my mind and I compelled my mother to take me to Leh, the land I was desperately waiting to discover. And as you know, my bribes and evil measures always work out and she booked our tickets to Leh!

Then came the most awaited date – mighty 19th of August. I was desperate the entire day. An irresistible desire took birth inside me and finally they arrived, we packed our bags and got ready for the new roll.

4:45 am, boarded Delhi-Leh flight, fell asleep in the flight and woke up with a sudden start on hearing ooh’s and aah’s. Well, we were flying above the pristine white mountains. I captured some pictures and then finally we landed on ‘the land of the llama’. And there is a very interesting saying associated to this land – In the land of llama, don’t be a gamma. It may appear lame but it actually means to keep a slow pace as oxygen is exiguous here. I had fought with my mother the previous day and forcefully removed all the sweaters from the luggage. But as soon as we stepped on the airport, a sudden chill pierced through our spines and mom ran after me to strangle me real hard. Though it was a decent 15 degrees, but the chilly breeze made it tough.

I forgot to mention that I had forced my grandmother too to come with us and hence there were daughters all around. :-P

Finally we reached the hotel and I closed my mouth. (Well, it was open during the entire trip owing to the beauty incarnate landscape). It was a comfortable dark room.

In the corner near the window was a large coloured vessel with a cork. The effulgent cups registered their presence.

I opened the cork and out came the smell of ‘fresh brewed mountain tea’. It was a choking moment for me as it made me aware of my incognito roots in the mountains of the north. Sipping hot tea while watching the majestic mountains was a serene moment. This moment was momentous and a moment of silence. This was followed by more tea and even more till we were fully satiated.

The manager instructed us to take rest for some hours as that would help us in acclimatization. We embraced the warmth of the quilts at 9 am and opened our dreamy eyes at 1 pm. Well, it was a long afternoon cum morning siesta in the heights. The sleeping rats woke up too and demanded a delicious lunch which came as a basket of hot traditional dal and rice. And then, we kick started our journey.

I always wanted to visit TCV Leh and learn about the infrastructure there. So, we first landed up in TCV. As it was a Saturday, so it was a half day. The children were back to their hostels and group homes. In the office we met beautiful Sonam and I gave her two copies of HOP. She took us around. Inside the campus, the air had a different spirit. There were many red-cheeked children engaged in daily chores. They looked cute in their blue trousers and navy green sweaters. Suddenly a euphonious sound reached my ears and my soul drifted all by itself towards the source. The music room was full of young musicians. They were learning flute and Tibetan guitar from the teacher to be presented in the evening cultural session. It was a divine music. I examined each and every face and noticed the presence of ‘the present’. Then we went to the group homes where the children were assisting their house mothers in completing the daily chores. The smiling faces had a kind of unexplainable radiance on them.

Well, let me tell you one thing. You can put plates of food in front of a child but can never teach him/her the etiquettes of eating unless you try yourself. The same applies in this case too. People resist from sponsoring children in TCV. They instead donate some money to the local chartable institutions who make a mockery of the funds. TCV focuses on the overall development of the child. It makes a child aware of not only the technical happening in the world but also makes one compatible with the human lifestyle. Handling and re-shaping hundreds of student ranging from toddlers to youth living miles away from their parents is indeed a difficult task. The family bonds, love, care affection, feelings – I just can’t say what I want to express. I felt the same when I visited TCV Dharamshala. In nutshell, what I want from you all is help – just help TCV in successfully carrying out its task of providing education – the building and basic block of human sustenance in today’s world. Just don’t expect. Your selflessness would definitely help someone to turn his/her dreams to reality.

Man! I am not coaxing but just trying to write the stuff I actually felt there. I could feel the genuineness and satisfaction in the atmosphere. You must come here and experience the hidden world. Kartik Iyengar, Rohit Tiwari, Nikhil Kuber Dubey, Subarna and many more are living examples. They all are rich and well established in their fields. And there is no craziest reason on earth for their association to such a remote place of the earth – TCV. But still, I’ve seen the spark in their eyes whenever one mentions about TCV. There is a guiding juggernaut behind their every action. They are the supporters of humanity. They know that these very kids who have no land to call their own not only need help but love and affection. They can see the future of the nation in these innocent souls. I think I have said it all. JUST HELP THEM!!!

With a strong tornado of these thoughts I bade the kids goodbye. I wanted to be there again. And that was when I made the first sincere promise of my life – better life for them. While I was engrossed in this clash, we reached the ‘sangam’. This is basically a place where two rivers – zanskar and Indus meet to make Indus yet again which then flows to Pakistan. On way back, we stopped at the magnetic hill. This is actually a place where people say ‘gravity laws are not obeyed’ and I saw that myself.

Next was the ‘hall of fame’ – an army museum. It has information about every war fought in the region and a list of martyrs. While going through the list, I saw a letter. It was written by col. Vijayant thapar, 22. Tears trickled from my eyes as soon as I read the first sentence – dear papa, I know that by the time this letter reaches you, I’ll be enjoying the company of the stars… This was something uncommon. But be it an Indian or a Pakistani, a soldier always fights. I also read the letter by a Pakistani soldier to his father. I felt bad.

I stepped in the courtyard of the building where the Indian tricolour was flying smoothly against the rugged terrain. There is something in the three colours of saffron, white and green that makes one sacrifice one’s life for the motherland.

The flag looked so peaceful, so full of life. It seemed to have seen the internecine battles, glorious victories and horrendous loses. It represented the selfless sacrifice of the soldiers. It enveloped the entire gnarled history of the nation.

And just then an autorickshaw passed by with a hoarding of a political party. Fuck! These politicians have nothing to do with the country. They are neither men nor women. Their only interest lies in money and securing their personal interests.

Pratibha Patil in Siachen, so what? Can she actually get to know what the soldiers there go through in order to keep her spects perfectly positioned on her nose. Never, she can never! Lok Sabha, Rajya Sabha, scams, blah, blah, blah! So much new for the media. ‘Priyanka Chopra and Shahid spotted together’. ‘Minissha caught at the airport with undeclared foreign purchase’. You enjoy this, don’t you? Well, this jazzes up your morning coffee session. ‘ dabang bags the filmfare’.

I wanted to do something right then, like taking a kalashinov and shooting all the corrupt politicians of the country. But then, Gandhiji did it all without a single show of violence and so is Anna. The tricolour still was flying majestically.

30 more minutes and I am at the shanti stupa. It is a beautiful place. Rather the most beautiful and calm place in the world. I can see many tourists here and there, taking pictures and discussing with the locals. My mind still flickers between the incidences not long before. Suddenly a sense of calmness engulfs me. I hear a distant thunder. I look around. People hastily make their way back. I can see my mother and grandmother enjoying the beauty of the surroundings. I remove my shoes and climb the ice cold marble stairs. Yet another set of stairs and then I am at the top. A bunch of kids try to persuade their parents to take them away. I see something – a yellow Buddha. I freeze at my location. I see the surroundings – setting sun, golden mountains. A Buddhist monk climbs up the stairs and goes round the stupa while chanting ‘om mani padmion’. I feel a sense of relief. I stare at those half open eyes – the calmness they reflect seeps inside. Cool mountain breeze enters my soul and unwinds the complicated threads of thoughts. I feel happy and I smile. I can see a similarity between the two smiles – incognito connections. The statue of Buddha seems so full of life suddenly. I feel an envelope of sleep. I close my eyes. My mother pats my back, an indication to leave the place. I reluctantly get up. I feel some invisible shackles pulling me back to the yellow figure. I feel contented. And here I make the second serious promise of my life – to turn into a Buddhist after two years.

I descend down the stairs. I stop and turn back to have a look once again. The place seems to diminish into the sea of tranquillity thus merging with the surroundings of the dusk. I come back to the room.

It was a hard day. Tacit tumult to be understood only by the inner self. Live for a cause, nothing matters, nobody matters, a better world, clashes within self, make people smile – as they revolve real hard in the tornado of the draconian state of mind, I peacefully dose off with the yellow figure before my eyes and the gateway to ‘something esoteric’.

Matters of heart~~

2011-08-06T20:46:00.000-07:00

The holder wanted to be a writer. But they chained her and those shackles were real hard to let her wings engulf a span and fly high... ... ...

Hey Jude!!! This reminds me of Bangalore :-)

2011-07-02T10:32:00.000-07:00

“Devayani! Come here, breakfast is ready. I have made idlis for you. Take the chutney, it is kept on the oven”, she said.

“Yes aunty! I am coming, just a minute please. Changing my clothes right now”, I said.

It was a rainy day. It had rained all through the previous night. I was to report to the workshop sharp at 7:30 in the morning. As I was about to open the door, a cool breeze drew the curtains apart and lashed against my face. It was then when I decided to drop the workday and self declared it as a holiday.

I changed back to the night clothes and went back to deep sleep, in my world of fantasy. The sound of rain drops falling on the roof was amazing. The gentle force with which they landed on the tree leaves made them sway gently from side to side. There was no sunlight; a shade of grey enveloped the entire city. The drops ended their journey on the roads and made them appear even darker. The dust was lost in the crevices of the roads and the smell of wet earth lingered around. The drops splashed playfully in the pool of water collected just outside the window of my room. The birds chirruped softly all huddled together. And I dozed off to sleep.

The sound of bells from the other room thwarted my dream bubble. It was aunt’s voice. Never in all these days had I heard her sing. It was melodious. She was singing prayers to Lord Balaji in Kannada. The smell of incense sticks crept in slowly through the gap just at the bottom of my room’s door and made its way straight to my nostrils. It was ambrosial. I was immediately transported to something very similar to heaven. Though drenched in sleep, my mind danced gently to the rhythm divine.

Suddenly the door opened and aunty came in. She had a brass plate in her hand. The flame of the earthen lamp too flickered playfully and cast familiar shadows on the walls of the room. I wanted to get up and pay respect to whatever was happening in the vicinity but the shackles of laziness strangled me real hard and brought me back to the warmth of the quilt. Aunty came inside and drew the curtains apart. I closed my eyes in anticipation for sudden sunlight after darkness gives a pain. But it was still raining and shades of grey peeped in. She then came to me and patted my cheeks. I smiled in response. She tried to push holy smoke and scent towards my face and again the incense reached me. I felt like a god. And I dozed off to sleep.

‘Devayani, how much would you sleep girl? Come on, get up and come in the kitchen,” she said.

I involuntarily got up from the bed and went to the kitchen. I took a chair and sat beside the gas stove. This invited another heavenly smile from aunty. She ran her hands through my lose tresses and got back to her daily chores. She took a pan and put some oil in it. Then she picked up some curry leaves and put them against their will into the pan and out came the crackling sound. Though I am a grown up but this sight made me laugh, I was happy! The aroma of the spices was good and made me feel hungry. She got to know of it and readily served me food. I ate all of it within a few minutes and again fell down to the blow of sleep.

And I saw a dream, rather a reality which had occurred once upon a time. As the instances and moments began to conjure themselves in the labyrinth of thoughts, I felt the warm touch of my destiny and slept peacefully in those arms. :-)

Its a short life - Part I, II and III

2011-07-02T10:30:00.000-07:00

PART I

“Hey Jen! Did you ask your mom and dad about our marriage?” asked David.

“My dear Tom! Let me first complete my graduation! Why are you in a hurry? Anyways, I am not going to run away with my handsome neighbour, umm, what’s his name? Oh yeah, Harry! And for God’s sake stop calling me Jen. I am not your ex!” I said, totally frustrated.

Well, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Jennifer Lopez! Ha gotcha! Don’t take my boyfriend seriously. Actually he has a great crush on Jennifer and just to console himself he calls me Jen. Well, he has got a point, like I call him Tom! ;-)

Ok! No more blabbering (the art which I master). My name is Lolita Sharma. Well, it does seem an oxymoronic name to the hindus but this is my name and I love it for I forced my parents to change it to Lolita from Sangeeta at the age of 8 when we moved to US. It is kind of ‘cool’. And my friends love to call me ‘Lol’. Lol! :P

My dad Mr. Shekhar Sharma is a businessman. Till date I haven’t been able to make out the type of business he is into. It doesn’t matter to me as long as money keeps flowing into the house and especially my purse! Life is cool. My mom Savitri Sharma is a housewife. She was a religious lady in India. But foreign country changed her bigtime to ‘Savy’. Now she loves to play cards while alternating shifts between a glass of champagne brute and a cigarette. Her partner in this fun over all these years has been Aunty Rose, Harry’s mom. She killed her husband (as she tells my mom) and faked it as a road accident. Since then she is a free bird, as ferocious as an eagle. She is always dressed in pieces of clothes which start just an inch below her cleavage. And I hate her for she is an ugly duckling. But Harry is sweet. He is a stranger in his own house. We used to study together in the Hollywood High school.

“Stop it Lol! Don’t over-react. It is your problem and don’t try to make it miscible with our relationship” said an irritated David.

“My problem Tom!??! It is ‘our’ problem. And by the way don’t behave like a selfish. My family comes first than anything else in the world. And it is not my problem, rather I am the reason for it” I blurted out, almost in tears.

The problem, well, why do I need to tell everyone again and again? The biggest problem of my life right now is the eternal fight between my parents. After I joined the high school, I got addicted to smoking and later on started drinking with my mom as my idol. It was kind of serious.

My dad has always stayed away from these things and that is why he hates mom for she is addicted to these things now. And I am no exception. Dad doesn’t like my drinking or smoking and hence he fights with mom to channelize his anger in other direction. So, that’s it! Though I have lessened these addictions after leaving school but still their traces in huge amounts persist in ‘my life’, *sigh!!*.

“Jen baby, relax. Look, I am sorry. I always want to see you happy and smiling as you were some time back. This sad face of yours freaks me out. Honey, don’t think of yourself as the reason. You are gradually coming on the right path. Now give me a ‘one in a million’ smile. Please?” David said softly.

I met David in UCLA (University of California, Los Angeles). It is one of the best universities of Los Angeles and I finally got into it. It was a great feeling. Finally my parents were proud of me and this was a pretty decent reason. I always had an interest in geography and history so I took arts as a subject and I dream of becoming an archaeologist to unveil that past and follow the path of Erich Von Daniken, Chariots of the Gods. I must say it is an awesome book which changed my ideology.

It was a rainy day. I had forgotten my umbrella back home and was waiting for the bus. I was almost wet. It was cold that day. I was all alone at the bus stop. And I was shivering wildly. It was then when David too hopped in the bus stop and without a thought, he covered me with his over coat and I readily accepted that. Warmth reached inside and I felt comfortable. Since that day, we became friends, rather great friends. We went to the class together, ate lunch together and hanged out together. Our favourite hang out place was Santa Monica beach, the coast guard’s post. Maryam, the coast guard had become a good friend of ours after we had helped him to get rid of a bunch of rowdy kids. He would let us sneak into the post and enjoy the cool breeze and the waves.

Once, Maryam was out for long and we were getting bored. So, we switched on the TV and there it was ‘the blue lagoon’. The beautiful beach landscape in the movie attracted us and we decided to watch it. After it got over I was not even able to raise my head out of shyness. David got to know about it. He came closer and kissed me. I didn’t retaliate. It was our first kiss. The first seed of love that was planted that day was awesome. And we kissed again. After that day we officially announced us as boyfriend and girlfriend, much to the envy of other girls and Harry offcourse!

“Thank you Tom, for being there. Sorry, I know I have a loose tongue. But I love you Tom, so much…..!” I chirped and hugged him.

“So, what do you say? Lets make out today? In your room?” he said, gently playing with my tresses.

“You bastard! F*** off! You are a dog. And I hate you. Now see what I do!” I said half angry and stormed out of the David’s room.

This has been the scenario ever since the day we committed. Unlike other guys who greet their girls with a bouquet of roses, David always does that with a packet of vicks. I was psyched out and almost fainted when he did this the first time. So what if his dad owns a medical shop! I was embarrassed that day and didn’t talk to him for a few following days. But my mind started missing him and we decided to meet. This time again, he repeated the same act and I laughed out loud. I can’t hate him. I never can. He is cute and handsome too. His French cut and a cute goatee makes me flat. He is a muscular man and that tattoo of ‘its your world’ on his biceps makes him a hunk. Well, I have started accepting the reality and now as a return gift, I give him a good slap everytime we meet and he loves that! :P

“Hey mom! I am home. Hello Rose! Can you please excuse us for a few hours? I need to talk to my mom. This is important.” I barked at aunty Rose.

My respect for aunty Rose had gone down the drains the day I saw her and so had ‘aunty’. I just called her Rose. I wonder what a Rose plant would do if it ever came across this Rose, a bitch.

“Oh! Sure Lol darling. Have a great time with mom. Bye Savy. See you soon” and with this Rose left the house. Finally peace reigned again in the living room and I jumped on the couch.

“Mom! I want to marry…” I couldn’t even complete my sentence as dad hopped in.

“Great! So, do we search for the boys or you have someone in your mind?” he chuckled.

“Its David dad. You know it all. I love him” I said monotonically.

And for the first time in all these 14 years I saw tears in mom’s eyes. It made me uneasy and uncomfortable. And then it happened. Dad went over to mom and put his shoulders around her. What the hell! Was it a dream? I rubbed my eyes again and again. My mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. Man! They were the biggest rivals on earth. How on earth did they patch up! All these random thoughts started to rise in my mind.

“We are proud of you Lol! We never though you would ever bump with this marriage thing. We thought you were spoilt to the core. We were scared of your addictions. Its good to see you back on the right track” my parents said merrily.

Well, I wanted to ridicule this statement of theirs. It was all fake. And mom said it all after may be four glasses of drinks. So, it had to be all messed up. This wasn’t her heart speaking out but the champagne. And as for dad, he was an innocent lamb who got into the tear trap of mom. But seeing them together after all these years melted my heat away and I felt nice. It was good!

“Thankx mom and dad. I owe this to you. Lets celebrate tonight with orange and cranberry juice” I winked at dad.

“Haha! Sure honey. Savy, what do you say? Well, Lol, I’ll talk to David’s parents tomorrow” said a happy dad.

A month followed this incident and I was standing on the stage holding a trophy in my hands. I had finally graduated with distinction in my subjects. Mom and dad were sitting in the front row and were clapping happily. David was standing next to me with the graduation certificate and was waving happily to his parents. They had agreed to our marriage.

And my idea freaked them out. I had decided to marry on the ‘skywalk’ in the Grand Canyon, a unique wedding! Then a helicopter ride followed by river rafting 4000 ft. below and a night in the Hualapai Ranch – it would be a perfect marriage.

My life had taken a smooth curve until THAT day, a red letter day…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PART II

To,

Lolita Sharma,

Bungalow No. 637,

Sunset Blvd,

LA.

It was an envelop from the city hospital. 7 days back I had fainted while shopping with David. I had opened my eyes in the city hospital emergency ward. Doctor Andrew had asked me to go for a CT scan and an X-ray. And this was the report – my CT scan report.

Wait, I forgot again to mention something of great importance. We live in Sunset Boulevard, Bungalow no. 637. My dad had purchased it from the relatives of John F Kennedy. Once upon a time, the famous Hollywood actress Marilyn Monroe used to live here. Though it was a small bungalow for dad’s black limousine but it was cosy and comfortable. So, dad sold the new apartment he had recently purchased and decided to live on in 637.

It was a bright sunny day in the month of June. David and his family had gone for a vacation in Mexico, to his cousin’s place. And my parents were off to San Jose for my dad’s business conference. I was all alone.

I picked up the envelop and started examining the surroundings. Rose was busy watering the plants and Harry was planting new oak saplings he had purchased from the nursery the previous day. As it was a Sunday, kids were playing soccer on the street. Most of the grown ups were either chatting up on phone sitting in the balcony sipping hot tea or were engaged in the garden activities like Harry and Rose. Some kids were playing with their pets in the park. It was a lovely sight. All of the Beverly hills seemed to enjoy this day.

I suddenly got a headache. It was a severe one. I rushed inside and quickly had a pill that the doctor had prescribed me. Since past one month, I was continuously getting these headaches and vertigos and one of those had landed me up in the city hospital. I was feeling weak and terrible so I decided to catch a little sleep.

I woke up to the sound of the door bell. I sleepily opened the door. It was Annie, my friend. She had to go for a party and hence had come over to leave her kid, Calvin in my custody. I bid her goodbye and pulled the kid inside who was already climbing on the tree. Calvin is a nasty kid. He resembles Annie just in looks. He is a gone case. He is so naughty that once even Annie considered sending him to a far off boarding school. But his dad declined. He is such a headache.

“Lol! I want and ice cream” he shouted.

His shout was so shrill that the already damaged lobes of my temple burst out and the pain increased manifolds. I went to the refrigerator and handed him a bowl of vanilla ice cream.

“Yuck! This tastes so bad! I want a chocolate ice cream” he shouted again.

“Dear (I hate using this word for him), I don’t have a chocolate ice cream” I said, trying to be calm.

“But Bob has it! He gives me a chocolate cone everyday and mommy pays him the money” he said, throwing a nasty look.

God! I so wanted to strangle this kid. I hate such parents who don’t care a damn about their kids and let them grow without any direction. And this results in Calvins!!! I held the kids hand firmly and took him to the dairy shop, half a mile away from 637. Bob, the vendor greeted the kid. I bought 5 cones of chocolate to keep the kid busy the rest of the time. I paid Bob the money and by that time Calvin had already started licking a cone. Thankfully, his mouth was engaged elsewhere.

“Lol! Lets go to the park” he said, holding all the 5 cones.

“Why not!” I said sarcastically.

God is great at times. After an hour or so, Annie’s car stopped by and she stepped out. Calvin ran happily with ice cream trickling down his body and hugged his mom. It was a good sight. She thanked me and left.

I decided to walk back pondering over the contents of my report in the envelop. It didn’t bother me much. I reached 637. It was 5 in the evening and the rays of the setting sun made the garden glow with a charismatic brilliance. The chrysanthemums; yellow and white, the dahlias; orange and mustard, the roses; pink and red, all looked beautiful and effulgent. The black olives were glistening like black pearls and a flock of birds was already chirping; settled merrily in their nests with the young ones. Life was all over the place – young and happy.

I unlocked the door and straightway went to my room. I put on Jim Morrosson – the future is uncertain, the end is always near. I was unaware of the fact that everything wall falling right on its destined place. I snuggled up on my bed, switched on the bedside lamp and opened the envelop.

The diagnosis read – carcinoma. F***! I rubbed my eyes and sat up on my bead. I read it again. The letters were obstinately stuck to the same place as earlier – carcinoma. I turned the page and saw Dr. Andrew’s note attached –

“Lol, I am very sorry to inform you that you have carcinoma – particularly breast cancer. You are in the intermediate stage. You know that your life is at risk. Come to the hospital as soon as possible. We’ll start with chemotherapy and round of operations. There is always a ray of hope. I believe in medical sciences and I hope I’ll be able to make it to your dream wedding.”

Damn! I saw the time. It was 6 in the evening. Outside the room, life was in full bloom and inside, it was moribund. Tears began trickling down my eyes. Never in my life had I cried so hard. I was shaken to the core. Suddenly I felt the envelop of loneliness engulfing me. I wanted mom and dad, right then.

I buried my face in my soft pillow as the river of tears made its way out. I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live my life. I would turn 22 this 18th of July. And life would come to a standstill after that. What would happen to my dream wedding? What would David do after I am gone? Who would take care of my parents? All these thoughts began to conjure themselves in my brain. Tired of crying, I dozed off.

I woke up again to the sound of the phone. I saw the time; it was 11:30 in the night. It was David’s call. I had completely forgotten about the report and happily responded to the call; though the thumping headache persisted.

“Hello honey! How have you been?” he asked.

“Hey Tom! I am good. How are you? Enjoying the holidays?” I asked merrily.

“Yes sweetheart. And I visited the pyramid you had asked me to. It is an awesome place. The concept of afterlife fascinates me. Do build a pyramid for me too after I am gone and don’t forget to put a packet of vicks beside me. I am going to need them in my afterlife. Heh!” said a naughty David.

Afterlife? Death? It was a sudden juggernaut for me. Yes. I was going to die. Tears rushed down again and my words froze in the mouth. Silence persisted for a moment. I was completely broken.

“Hello? You there Jen? Come on, I was joking. Now don’t be angry with your bastard!” he chuckled.

“I miss you Tom, come soon…” and my voice got chocked.

“Sure Jen, I’ll come home in another couple of days. I’ll keep you updated. I miss you too. Take care. And good night to my angel” and he hung up.

It was hard to believe on the reality. I didn’t want to spend the rest of the time in the hospital engaged in the treatments and die in the end. The intermediate stage and Andrew’s letter made me sure of the approaching end. I wanted to live life in the days that were left over.

The next day I went over to Dr. Andrew’s clinic and discussed the reports with him. After an hour of discussion the only way was to get myself admitted in the hospital the very day and get started with the treatments with a 10% probability of getting back ‘my life’. I thanked him and went to Santa Monica beach. Maryam was there as usual. He welcomed me to his post. I smiled at him and sat on the bench near the window. The beach was absolutely quiet. The holidays had ended and kids had gone back to their school. Since it was a weekday so very few people, who were mainly tourists had come to enjoy the beach. The patch of sand in front of the post was absolutely empty. There was just the sea and its gigantic waves.

Suddenly a flock of seagulls came flying and settled on the patch. Some were sturdy and some were young. Some were too small and had just learnt flying. They were poking each other with their sun kissed yellow beaks. And the older ones were trying to find food on the shore from the deposits of each coming wave. Suddenly, an eagle dived from great heights and took a baby seagull in its claws. There was a commotion and loud shrieks of the birds. It was then when something unexpected happened. A group of seagulls chased the eagle and poked it real hard. It finally left the baby seagull and the flock was complete once again. The baby gull came out of the sudden shock in a couple of minutes and resumed its normal activity of poking its colleagues.

But I was already in the clutches of the eagle and no seagull would come to save me. I was drifting away with each passing second. The flame was losing its intensity as the time flew by. I tried hard not to think of the unseen and the unknown but the tremors set up in my mind made it hard for me.

With a heavy mind, I walked out of the post and removed my sandals. I then went to the sea shore and got my feet drenched in the cold waters. As it splashed my toes, I became more aware of life around me. I stood there watching the waves. They rose high up and then surrendered themselves to the shore taking with them everything that was incapable of protecting itself against their force. They took it to the great depths of the sea which were unfathomable. They also acted as saviours by bringing back things to the shore. This dual characteristic confused me.

It was then when a very strong breeze started blowing. It had a great force. It let my tresses lose and they were flying in all the directions. David loved such moments. He would always click our pictures. He would then play with the flying tresses and stare at me for long. I never was able to resist his stare and would always try to run back to the post. The moment I did so, he used to hold my hand tight and stop me. And I used to settle smoothly in the warmth of his hug.

And yet again the tears made their way out to meet the sea of salinity. I missed David the very moment. His loneliness after I would be gone made me sad. Just then Jim Morrosson’s ‘the future is uncertain, the end is always near’ started playing in the vicinity. It was so true. I looked at the time, it was 2 in the afternoon. Just 10 more hours left for the day to end and just some more days for my life to end.

I drove my black beetle back to 637 and went to sleep. I woke up at around 5 in the evening with those puffy and red eyes and tangled hair. I looked at the mirror and let out a loud laughter. I looked so funny. And yet again tears! It was the 13th time, I had cried that day. I wanted to laugh the same way as I used to ever. I wiped off my tears and went to my parents’ room. I sat on my dad’s favourite rocking chair. Whenever he used to have any problem, he just sat on the chair for an hour pondering deeply and the solution used to hit instantly. I too tied to think of a solution for my moribund body. As I was about to get up, I saw our old photographs on the wall. It had the three of us with happy faces camping in the Nevada valley. In the other picture, me and dad were sitting on a horse. Probably mom had clicked that snap. And in yet another me and mom were in the pool splashing water on each other. Happy times long back – I thought. I loved my parents and they loved me too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PART III

I cursed myself for being a stupid and unfaithful daughter all these years. Had I not started smoking and drinking, those smiles would have been preserved. We could have shared a great bonding. I could have loved them much more. I could have made them smile forever. I could have married, have had kids and made them happy grandparents. We could have gone on holidays. Happy family it could have been – randomness strangled.

Suddenly, some passion took charge of me and I opened the drawer of my table. I took the lighter and set the envelop and the report ablaze. It burnt down to ashes within a minute. I was finally happy. There was no trace of my approaching end nearby. Though it was certain but I had hidden it perfectly.

I sat down on the chair and took out my black book. I started jotting down the things that were still left, all my desires and ways to make people happy. And at the end, I finally managed to get 69 things. I had a smile on my face. I had decided to live the rest of the days my way. I had decided to enjoy my life to the fullest and live the whole of it in the rest of the days. I decided to make everyone around me happy. I decided to create myself and leave behind fond memories for people to cherish. I decided to spend time with my parents. And last but not the least, I decided to travel to India. I wanted to unveil the secrets and places of the country (in the left over time) where I had spent 8 precious years of my life. That was the last wish in the wish list. I had decided to die there alone and all by myself. I had decided not to tell anyone of my disease and post them a letter just before a couple of days of my death, when I would be able to write for the last time. I won’t disclose them of my location but would send truck loads of love and regards to them. And I would ask them to be happy. That’s it. It seemed a perfect ending.

With a hollow ray of hop in my mind, I went to sleep. I woke up the next day, cleaned up the house and made breakfast. My parents arrived back home in an hour and were surprised to see the change in me. We all hugged and enjoyed the breakfast ‘together’ in all these years. Then me and mom went for shopping and purchased my wedding dress. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings and hence agreed for the deal. Then dad joined us and we had our lunch together. Then we went for a long drive in dad’s limousine with Kishore da on! It was a wonderful time spent together. We came late in the night and I dozed off immediately as soon as I embraced my warm cosy bed.

“Get up Lol! Its 8 in the morning. David just called to tell that he’ll pick you up at 12” mom shouted.

“Let me sleep mom! By the way, is David back?” I asked still sleeping.

“Back? What are you talking about? Now get up and get ready soon. I am going to Rose’s house. Harry is not well. If you feel like coming over, do come. You breakfast is on the table and dad has already left for his office” she blurted in a monotonic tone.

Something was wrong with mom today. Yesterday, she had been so full of love and today she was back again to her normal self. I finally woke up, had my breakfast and got ready. I wanted the last days of my life to be memorable and beautiful. So I dressed up in the red saree David had gifted me on my last birthday. I went to Harry’s house to give my regards. It was 11:30 in the morning and David was already there in his navy blue lexus. I quickly locked the door and rushed over to him. It was a benediction to see him after so many days. I leaned over and kissed him. He was startled! And I was confused.

“Welcome back Tom! I missed you so much” I said.

“Whoa! You missed me so much? Strange girl! By the way, you look sexy in red! My beautiful Lolita” he grinned.

I was more confused now. But then my life had no time for these confusions. It was already approaching its end. I paid no attention to it. Aerosmith played in the background as we drove through the wide roads. It was a beautiful day and I was livin’ on the edge of the sunshine! We finally reached the beach.

“Err, Jen, how are you going to walk on the beach in saree? I have a pair of shorts and a t-shirt on the backseat. What say?” he asked casually.

Well, I felt stupid. I didn’t even think of that. I would be lot difficult to walk on the beach with a saree on.

“Hehe! Ok, you proceed to the post. I’ll come in a bit” I said smiling. David went away and I quickly changed my clothes.

I then ran quickly and jumped on David! He was puzzled and laughing at the same time.

“Hey lol! You are behaving strange today? What is the matter? Did you hit your head somewhere?” he winked.

“Shut up Tom! I am alright. Just got a reason to enjoy the left over life” I said happily.

“Cool, between why leftover life?” he questioned.

It hit me hard. I was almost about to speak the truth when I controlled myself. A sudden wave of grief hit me. But I tried to smile hard and said “Nothing Tom, a mystery :-)”.

We walked down to the post. Maryam greeted us with a chirpy smile and let us sneak into his post. As I dashed on the couch, I watched David. He was sitting by the side of the window and staring at the sea. Our wedding was scheduled in December and my death was scheduled in October. How ironical and strange. David would be married to my ghost on the skywalk. How funny and I giggled.

“Jen! You have gone mad! What’s the matter with you? Or do I look so funny today? Tell me!” he asked curiously.

“Tom! These shackles of reality have imprisoned my mind real hard. The future is uncertain, the end is so near. What is life? Just a cake walk! The important element is our smile” I smiled.

“Cool! So you are in poetic clutch today. My Jen sounds philosophical” he said.

“Come over Tom! I have a little time left. Lets make out!” I grinned.

Tom fell down from the chair and started staring at me full of doubts. He looks thunderstruck. As I had less time in life, so I wanted to make him happy for the last time, the first thing on my wish list.

“What??????” he asked, all bamboozled.

“Don’t question David! Its an order” I said loudly.

And that was when that divine smile found its way again on his face. He came to me in a flash of second and patted my cheeks “Not till we get married Jen”.

“No way Tom! What if I die tomorrow?” I said, in tears.

“Don’t be stupid Lol! No force on earth can take me away from you” he held my hand tight.

Tears trickled down my eyes and I started crying. Suddenly a worried expression dawned David’s face and he sat beside me “Tell me what happened? Did someone say you something Jen?”

“Tom! I am going to die in 3 months. I have cancer….” I couldn’t even complete my sentence when he hit me on head and said “Jen! You surely need a psychiatrist!!!”

“Its true Tom, just listen to me. While you were away in Mexico, I received the report of the scans from the hospital you took me to. Andrew attached a note to it which said that I was in intermediate stage. I was upset Tom. But then I decided to live on the rest of the days in the best possible way. I even purchased my wedding dress to please mom when we went for shopping yesterday. And I missed you so much all these days. I never wanted to tell you all this but you forced me to” I cried.

Tom had a pillow in his hand and was trying to hide his wild laughter. But after a while he couldn’t control and burst out loud “Dumbo!”

“Go to hell! You make fun of a dying person?” I said angrily, already on my heels to hit him hard.

“Wait! Stop Jen, No! This was one of your stupid dreams. Yesterday, we went to the museum in the morning, had lunch at my place in the afternoon and went to the park in the evening! And by the way, when did I go to Mexico? Hehehe! I can’t stop laughing. Whom on earth would I go to meet in Mexico, Jen,… MEXICO!!!” he said trying to control his laughter.

“Damn! I am not dying then? Are you sure? Was it a dream? Holy crap! I was freaked out. This thing was driving me nuts” I questioned aloud with a wide eyed look.

“Yeah Jen! Believe me. Now I regret the decision of not making out with you. It was such a tempting offer. Crap! I messed it up. Err, Jen, you are going to die, I swear. So, lets make out!” he said doubtfully.

“You bastard! I know you’ll always remain an incorrigible nincompoop! I hate you. You are a dog!” and I ran after him bare feet on the beach chasing him hard.

Life goes on and on. Though it was a stupid dream but it changed me big time. I now know the value of life, every single moment of life is precious and worth cherishing.

And believe me, I am going to live as if I am going to die tomorrow. And I do remember those 69 things on my wishlist. And I’ll go to India before our wedding. I’ll take David along too.

And folks, I’ll get married soon on the skywalk, be there for my wedding.

:-)

Incredibly fake!

2011-06-25T00:40:00.001-07:00

Playboy, ‘think’ before you act – Topless cabaret – Fantasy!!! Sizzling playgirls, the best rated show in the city – ‘Love’, come and experience the phenomenal beauty of the stage show - Absolutely ’80, rock the floor – The sound and light show – ‘Menopause’ (different from the Indian menwhopause), truly musical – The strip place – Try your luck at the MGM casino…

Welcome to THE VEGAS babe – the city of sex, booze and hell lot of fun!

Well, these were the first things that I noticed as soon as I stepped out of the hotel room. Yeah, it was a totally new experience for me. And right at the start, I had made my intentions of settling in the USA very clear to my parents.

We had arrived at around 5 in the evening in the city. So, the first place of attraction was the grand floor laid down with beautiful mosaic. Then there was a botanical garden with an amazing variety of flowers followed by the musical fountains. Then there was the largest cluster of hand blown coloured glasses on the ceiling of one of the most expensive and busiest hotels of the world. The chocolate fountain was a major place of attraction; it had 21000 pounds of chocolate flowing in it – both white and brown. And then it was the Fremount street, one of the most desired destinations of the vegas! The lane was full of limousines huddled together. There were people, everywhere and all over the place. There was not single place to step as the rock show was going on. Every single person seemed to enjoy life one’s own way with a bottle of chilled beer or a glass of champagne in one’s hand. They all were dancing to the tune. It was a nice experience and I was happy to the core. The life in the vegas was fascinating for me. I wanted to be with them and one of them. Cleary this meant something different. It was time for the day to get back to the hotel.

I hopped in happily into the room and switched on my i-pod. And ‘aerosmith’ played ‘the taste of India’. It was then when the ‘expected happened’. It brought me back to my own country – the pot of spices, forests, traditions and gods. I closed my eyes and visualised myself standing in front of a temple in one of the inaccessible villages of the ‘majestic Himalayas’. The sweet aroma of the incense sticks and the flowers seemed to get inside me. The holy prayers of the priest were so calm amidst the innumerable pine and oak trees standing high with pride, but no arrogance. Suddenly a shriek made me open my eyes and rush to the balcony. Oh! Somebody had won the gambling in the hotel casino and was happy for he/she had won something around US $ 1,25,600.

I looked at the room for the first time. It was shaped like a pyramid. I suddenly suffered from claustrophobia. I again put on my headphones and closed my eyes. I was back again there, where I was minutes before – the Himalayas. Then suddenly, M.S. Subbalakshmi began to sing her famous venkateshwara song and the temples of the madurai began to form a self portrait before my eyes. Something was definitely wrong, I hurriedly opened my eyes, feeling uneasy. Yes! There had been a disaster; I was not at the place where I was supposed to be – India! I suddenly started to miss it, right at the third day of the voyage. I wanted to go back the very moment, but that was not an easy task – 18 hours made a big difference!

Well, this is not my story, it happens with most of us. But the outcome is always a cake walk. This feeling persists for some time and then vanishes into the dazzle of the foreign city. I met many Indians today in the Vegas who had information about every nook and corner of the city, various landmarks and to add more, they even knew the tariffs of the various hotels (lets not forget the strip clubs!!). These people were mostly from the big Indian cities – Delhi, Mumbai, Ahmedabad, Jaipur, Chandigarh, Bangalore, Hyderabad and Madras. Its good that they had so much information about the vegas, and I see no flaw in it. Its always good to have information about the world, its history and geography. But on what cost? Co-incidentally, the topic of Indian tourism sprouted up all by itself and these people didn’t even know the name of the river Narmada, the aravali mountain ranges, leh and many more things. No man! This is not done. India is not a no man’s land. You need to pay respect to India. It means a lot to me and it should mean the same to you too!

Most of the people in India complete their +2 level and earn a normal degree. They then immediately appear in some exams and then their struggle for the green card begins. Soon after they get it, they leave there old parents in some old age homes in India and leave them to decay on their own. They just get stirred up with some unknown passion. They try to imitate and one day or the other they become – the fake Americans. They celebrate some Indian festivals once in a year to show their negligible patriotic feeling and talk high about India.

Dude! How on earth can you be such an asshole. This guy talked on and on about some of the corrupt politicians for they were his idols. He wanted to be like them. True! The followers of the swiss bank and the bank of Malaysia. He had absolutely no idea of what India is all about inspite of having spent his 20 precious years in this country. He seemed a typical result of a ‘failed experiment’ to me.

And these were his words – Look! It is a tradition in my family to study abroad and settle here. You know, US is fun! I love to dance and rock the night. It is clean and it has no beggars and lechers like India. India is a poor country you know. I don’t have any future there. India is never going to develop or make progress.

This shit head should be tied to a pole upside down and given a dose of enema! Not only him, there are so many people who ‘think’ like this. Tell me one thing, who are you to tell all this dirty stuff about India? Have you ever visited any beautiful place in there? There are many and do you even know about the beauty of the Himalayas, the Nilgiris and the gangetic plains? Who are you to say that India won’t progress? Is India a human being so that he/she can walk the path of success and uplift itself?

You are not a man for you have no love for your own country. You should be kicked out of the nation real hard and sent to the Bermuda triangle.

People! do try to think about it. Why do you try to escape the reality of India rather than face it? A single man is enough to stir up the passions of millions of people and bring about change. Gandhiji did that, why can’t you? Such a small country and such a huge population – how can the country be managed if all of us flee to the US or any other country to pursue our selfish desires? How can it be managed if we merely live our life here selfishly and satisfied? It can’t be done ever without your support. You talk of India – 2020, and try to say great things about the progress. Do you really think this can happen with such a high rate of current brain drain? Stop yourselves and others from leaving the country. You all are able and drenched in resourceful waters.

It is not only a religion hub, but much more! It is slowly growing up with new technology. Its an irony that an Indian in some part of the world discovers or invents something and India has to buy that technology. But still, it is trying to make up. There are some real people who have either come back to India or didn’t leave the place for they had something in store regarding the future of the nation. There are many who have highly evolved technical brains and talk about new stuff which is still untouched.

Wake up one morning and go to some rural corner of the city or some secluded street. You’ll be able to see the real faces – malnourished and dry but still with the happy smiles. There are so many children on the streets whose future would never be attended. There are so many of them whose life is uncertain. There are so many of them – they need your support and care. Just giving them fake assurances and spending time with them would do no good. If you really want to do something good, gift them their future. Yes, they will make up the future population of the country for they have got no place to go and then you would have got no choice but to curse yourself for only you would had let this happen without paying attention to them.

Yes, they are the real face of India who would live here till they die. They are helpless and poor. If you want India to progress, then you need to actually change the face of India by helping these lives. Bring back the spirit of HOP! And work together towards the making of India 2.0

Well, one thing. I really can’t express what I really want you to see and feel. These words act as a mere medium to open up the chain of thoughts. As for me, I promise to never leave India and I’ll put in my best for bringing about the change, and yes I will. If the ‘yes we can’ speech by Obama changed the USA so much, why can’t a ‘yes I can’ resolution to myself do the same? Hell yeah! We’ll do it.

Come on folks, return back to the country. This is the time you can regain your lost respect and patriotism. Your country needs you. India can not take even a single step further without all your support. I am here and will always be, but I am not that strong to remove the big boulder in the path to glory. I need your hands and voices together to push that obstacle away. Let’s sing the tune of rising India. Let’s do it. I am there right beside the boulder waiting for you. Are you there yet?

And go grab a copy of the ‘Traveller’s magazine’ from your nearest shop – India is not ugly, it is beautiful. You just need to spend some time out of the lap of luxury, in the lap of nature. Try it once and your song of life would be changed. Experience the real taste back in India, for this is INCREDIBLE INDIA. I love this place and I proudly say it! Do you? If yes, then come on, join this self proclaimed resolution and a war with the dark side of self. Work individually but together to make this face of India smile a smile that is ‘one in a million’. :-)

Identity on the horizon

2011-06-25T00:39:00.001-07:00

I opened the creaky Iron Gate, the gate which I had opened so swiftly all through my childhood days, the happy days as I call them. It used to be painted in black with golden and silver alternate bars. On the side pillars used to be a plate with Abba jan’s name on it – Dr. Hamid Hussain.

I remember sitting with him in his clinic and mimicking him in front of his patients. Abba used to be a renowned ophthalmologist of his time. And he was definitely good at it. Most of his mareez (as he used to call the patients) were aged people with grey hair and front teeth missing. They all didn’t know how to read or write. It used to be a really tough job for Abba to check their eye number. I remember him making some pictures and asking the mareez to make them on those papers. It was fun watching the activity. At the end of the morning session, I used to bring him lunch which Ammi used to cook for him. We both used to enjoy it with me sitting in his lap. I remember how fondly he used to call me ‘noor’. Abba never discriminated between me and Ameer, my brother who was then a toddler.

Those days, in the early 1970’s Afghanistan was like any other country of the world. It used to be my dream land with snow capped mountains, pine trees, clear blue sky, turquoise blue lakes and meandering roads in the beautiful terrain. It used to produce lot of dates and dry fruits. It was also famous for the jewellery. I remember buying ‘jhumka’s’ with Ammi and Khala Fatima (the house maid). Whenever Ammi used to go to buy vegetables, she would always take me to the jewellery shop. I was too fond of the stone jewellery. I had kept my collection in a silver box with golden lining which Abba had given me for my 7th birthday. I always used to tell Ammi that those were the things I had kept for my marriage. And she used to laugh.

I still remember her ambrosial smile. According to Islam laws, a woman has to keep herself covered from head to toe. So she was always dressed in a black burqa and a white hijab. I had decorated that hijab for her with precious stones and some oil painting. It was a rule not to wear decorative hijabs but Ammi always used to dawn them for I used to love them.

When at home, she used to wear a simple salwaar kameez. I remember how beautiful she was, her lean figure perfectly fitting the beautiful dresses, her slender and long fingers, the diamond wedding ring Abba had given her. Whenever fresh wind gushed in the kitchen through the window, she would look even more beautiful. I remember how I used to play with her dark brown tresses. With my insistence she had coloured a few of them in golden colour. Her round face with light green eyes, pink lips and perfectly positioned nose made her look no less than a princess. I loved her mascara and the scent of sweet Afghani itra always made me sense her presence. With those perfect features and a nice height, she was the most beautiful Afghani girl in Kabul, my home town.

All thoso memories suddenly gushed out of my eyes. I finally stepped on the walkway. It could hardly smile with those innumerable cracks time had inflicted upon it. Once upon a time it used to be a pure white marble area adorned further by Abba’s Black Ford Mustang which he had bought recently from Pakistan. I looked to my side where a dry patch of land stood still. There was hardly any trace of greenery. There used to be a garden there, long back. I and Ameer jan used to play soccer there. My eyes suddenly started searching for something which I and Ameer had implanted ourselves. Through the corner of my eye, I saw it. It was still there – the goal post. Though the white paint had peeled off its surface and its surface had rusted more than I could have ever imagined. But still, it stood with a sense of pride on its own land – Afghanistan. And this suddenly gave birth to a sense of guilt inside me, for it had not fled in times of distress and remained loyal to its motherland, unlike me, who was a mere coward and fled, leaving behind my homeland, my people and most importantly my family. I had performed this act 22 years back when Russia took over my land and there were soldiers with guns everywhere. I witnessed killings and was scared. I fled from my house that night in a lorry and reached Pakistan where a Canadian couple took pity on me and took me to their land. That was the last time when Afghan blood

had flown in my body.

Fresh warm tears gushed out of my eyes and I felt terribly sad. Suddenly, I wanted to go back in time, I wanted to tell Abba jan how much I loved him, I wanted that warm hug from Ammi and I wanted to play soccer with my little star, Ameer. I wanted to tell them how much I missed them. But all what remained was a charred wick.

There used to be a row of poplar trees in the garden beneath which I had buried my prized possessions to keep it a secret. I immediately got up and found the spot. It was still undiscovered. Something wondrous happened and I smiled. I started digging and it was all intact, arranged in the same way as I had left it 22 years back. I found my brass doll, the steel magic wand and my earrings. A mere touch sent out another round of tears. I took those things out and brought them close to my heart – my last set of memories from my childhood in my land – Kabul.

I stood up and looked up at the 2 storied house that Abba had designed himself. It was once upon a time my home. It used to shine bright with a slanted roof and cream coloured walls. All what remained was a lifeless brick structure. The roof was gone. The bare structure with large holes in its walls still stood high. It appeared like an old smiling man with hair, front teeth and the charm missing. But it still welcomed me. I felt guilty and hung my head low as if I were saying sorry.

But then the words which I heard over the telephone still echoed in my head – Its too late. The Taliban have killed your family. Your Abba had loved you more than Ameer and I hope you’ll return to your homeland someday. Then he hung up. I had frantically tried to search about him but had no idea of who exactly he was. A call in Farsi after 22 years had made me scream and the Afghan blood had drawn me towards it. I finally decided to fly down to Afghanistan – the land where I smiled for the last time.

I took out a family photograph from my bag. It was taken long back on my 7th birthday. Though it was in sepia tone but it hit the right spot, it made all the colours alive again. Ammi was holding Ameer jan in her arms who was barely 2 years old. I remember he was dressed in a dark blue pathan suit I had bought for him. Ammi was dressed in red salwaar kamiz. On her side was Abba Jan in his grey suit. He had his hand around my shoulders. And I was there wearing a knee length green dress and grinning holding a cake. A faint picture of Khala Fatima too was visible who was standing at the back of the large glass window. We all seemed so happy then. We were standing in the walkway and the party was just about to begin…

Just then a bullet hit me in my chest. I fell down where I was standing, in the garden. The Taliban has finally caught hold of me. And I felt happy for this was the right punishment for a kafir like me. I suddenly felt relieved. Suddenly thousands of tonnes of load lifted from my head and I felt light for the first time in those 22 years. There was no sense of guilt but a ray of liberation. I closed my eyes and suddenly the Afghani ghazal started playing in the background. I saw myself in the green dress, it was my 7th birthday.

A sense of happiness hit me. I smiled for the first time in those 22 years and for the last time in my life. I was finally back home. I was with Abba jan, Ammi and Ameer jan. We all were happy. I was happy for I finally was dying at a place where I had spent 16 precious years of my life.

I uttered a line from Koran, the qazi Agha had taught me in the school – La illaha il Allah, Muhammad u rasul ullah.

And my favourite song played in the background –

Ahesta boro, Mah-e-man, ahesta boro………

Jasmine...

2011-06-25T00:38:00.000-07:00

The cool breeze let my hair lose. A few tresses embraced my nose and I was stunned to smell the scent of ‘that jasmine garland’. I rushed home immediately and frantically started rubbing shampoo on my hair. After some time I smelled it again. It was there – the last aroma. It is true that people sometimes leave their mark upon you. Thoughts may die, even memories may vanish but some aromas linger around for eternity.

We had met that afternoon in the same alley which used to be our favourite hangout place. He had placed that jasmine garland in my hair and I let him do that. That was the last day of the sweet friendship. Our parents had forced us to marry (not to each other, but to separate people) whom we hadn’t even seen. In my culture, it is a tradition not to see either the bride/groom’s face until marriage.

We both had tears in our eyes. We wanted this friendship to continue but it was too late. It was already a high time. We both departed with false assurances of keeping in touch. We knew the hopelessness of the promises that we made. While walking back to my house, I saw him from the last time, waving me back from the alley. We had never waved back to each other in such a dull way. This good bye was the most painful one. I ran back and hugged him for the last time in those 20 years.

The nights that followed were sleepless ones. I missed him, more specifically us...

JuNgLe LoRe

2011-05-08T01:47:00.000-07:00

I clearly remember the date, it was 18th of December, 2007. As it was my birthday so I woke up early in the morning. Happiness was overflowing out of me when I realized that I was in the jungle. That was the most perfect day. I looked around, all others were sleeping. I quietly opened the creaky rest house door and stepped into the verandah.

The time was around 6:00 am. I was elated to find out that it had rained the entire night. That had futher depressed the temperature. It was freezing cold and I only had a shawl with me. Going again into the room would had meant waking others up as the door made loud noise and I didn't want others to spoil my 'morining raga'. So I tried to pretend brave and wrapped the shawl tightly around me.

The sunrise was yet to occur and a faint light clearly reveled the onset of the dawn. The fresh scent of wet earth lingered around. Coupled with the aroma of the jungle - it was the sweetest perfume. The silence was suddenly broken by the shrill cry of the brain fever bird and that brought back the life in the wilderness. It seemed as if suddenly the entire dormancy was lost and every single being became active. A group of curs which was sleeping in the verandah got up lazily and stretched up themselves. The puppies followed their mothers and I soon lost their sight as they vanished around the corner of the rest house.

The rest house I am talking about is lined by Teak (Tecton grandis) and Sal (Shorea robusta) trees on all the sides. It was constructed in early 20's by the Britishers to relax in summers during the game season. The rest house has 2 big spacious rooms and a dining hall adorned by a fireplace. At the back of the rest house, is a kitchen, about 50 metres away. From the right of the kitchen, there is a narrow walkway which leads one to the lake. The lake has a diverse ecosystem with a variety of flora and fauna. Many varieties of fish reside there. It is a place where animals come mostly during the night to drink water.

I decided to visit the lake in the morning. As soon as I entered the walkway passage, a clan of monkeys started jumping frantically from one branch to another and making their typical - 'khack - khack' sound. To all of you who are not familiar with this, let me tell you that whenever monkeys or any other herbivores spot a big carnivore like a tiger or a leopard, they start making these characterestic noises which we call - 'alarming calls' to warn the rest of the jungle of the carnivore's presence. As soon as I heard the noise, I was confused in the first go. The reason being - it was early in the morning and it had rained the previous night. So, no carnivore would be in a mood to drink water from the lake as there would have been a plenty of puddles by then. Ignoring their call, I continue to walk on that muddy path. Just a couple of minutes later, I spotted a herd of cheetal whom we call spotted deer. The herd was standing still with their tails erect and all of them were watching in a particular direction.

That was when I realized my mistake. There was actually a big carnivore present on the site of the lake and it was clearly a tiger. Because just the previous night when I was having a chat with the cook of the rest house, he had told me about the presence of a full grown tiger cub in the vicintiy since the past 13 days. It used to kill the village cattle and was enormous. It had also tried to attack the boy - cchhotu some 5 days back who was leading the herd to a jungle grassland.

But inspite of my fear I continued to walk futher. The deer didn't seem to mind my presence and continued to stare. Suddenly a shrill bellow of the sambhar (a deer) to my immediate left left me aghast! It was then when I realized my mistake. I got many goose bumps when the entire herd started running in the opposite direction. The tiger was surely on a kill. But stupidity was ingrained in me that day and I walked down futher removing my shoes so as not to make even slightest possible noise. What I saw finally stopped my heart. It was the same tiger cub. He had killed a full grown male stag. The fresh red blood gushing out of his throat made me shiver.

But then, the tiger was majestic. I had always waited for such an opportunity. My fear had vanished by then and it was a sense of ultimate pleasure. I stood there for almost 5 minutes watching the beauty devour the flesh. I could hear the cracking of bones very clearly. Suddenly a sound to my right caught the tiger's attention. A hers of bisons were on the move. Even they came to a standstill when they noticed the tiger and quickly retraced their way back. I found it a good opportunity to run away quickly with them. I only stopped running when I was back in the compound of the rest house.

Silence still prevailed in the vicinity. Except the cook all others were sleeping. I shared my experience with him and we both spiced it up. He then got up to make a cup of tea for me. I lay down on the charpai there and watched him perform his job. As he lighted the choolha (earthen stove), I saw the smoke rise high up in the air and vanish leaving behind its streaklines. In this process I don't remember when I dozed off but when I woke up, my mother was standing beside me with a cup of tea in her hand. Surely, that birthday was the most cherished one <3 :-)

वो दो हाथ

2011-04-24T01:43:00.000-07:00

"भाईसाहब, मुझे थोड़ी जल्दी है | क्या आप मेरा काम पहले कर सकते हैं ? आपकी बड़ी मेहेरबानी होगी |"

"अरे यार, क्यों सुबह-सुबह दिमाग ख़राब करने आ जाते है लोग | कहा न आपको, एक महीने बाद आइये, तब देखेंगे | अरे खड़े-खड़े मेरा मुंह क्यों तक रहे हो ! जाओ यहाँ से!"

"भाईसाहब मेरी आपसे विनती है की........"

"अरे कहा न जा! एक घुमा के दूंगा नहीं तो! अरे बाबु, सुन तो, इस बेवक़ूफ़ को ज़रा बहार का रास्ता दिखा दे!"

वो रोता हुआ घर पंहुचा और अपने बेटे को गले से लगा कर बोला, "तुझे मै स्कूल ज़रूर भेजूंगा | तू चिंता मत कर |" अगले पांच दिनों तक उसने जी जान लगा दी नौकरी ढूँढने में, पर आज के ज़माने में एक अपंग को काम पे रखता कौन है!

सत्रह साल का था वो जब उसने अपना घर छोड़ा था काम की तलाश में | बाबूजी से बिछड़ते वक़्त उसे उतना दुःख नहीं हुआ जितना की काकी को छोड़ते वक़्त हुआ था | उसके बाबूजी का एक गुर्दा ख़राब हो चला था | हाल ही में डॉक्टर से पता चला था की शहर के अस्पताल में किसी ने उनका एक गुर्दा निकल लिया था | तभी से उनकी हालत बदतर होती जा रही थी | जब वो सात साल का था, तभी उसकी माँ चल बसी थी | तब से लेकर आज तक काकी ने उसका ख्याल रखा था | उन्हें वो सबसे ज्यादा चाहता था | पर उसे नौकरी करना ज़रूरी था ताकि वो पैसे जुटा सके | उस दिन से लेकर आज तक उसने फिर कभी गाँव की शक्ल नहीं देखी |

शहर आकर उसे पता चला था की वो कितना भोला है | दर दर की ठोकरे खता हुआ आखिर में वो सेठ रामदास के पास पंहुचा | उन्होंने इसकी नौकरी फैक्ट्री में लगा दी | इसकी मेहनत रंग लाई और मालिक भी इससे खुश रहने लगे | पर तक़दीर को कुछ और ही मंज़ूर था | एक शाम, अचानक से बिजली चली गई और एक बड़ी सी मशीन इसके हाथों पर आ गिरी | जब वो २ हफ्ते बाद घर लौटा तो पता चला की उसकी पत्नी घर छोड़ कर जा चुकी थी | दुसरे ही दिन फैक्ट्री के बाबु से पता चला की उसकी नौकरी भी छिन चुकी थी |

आज जब भोला ने उसके आंसू पोछे तो उसका मन किया की उसे अपनी बाँहों में ले ले | पर वो मजबूर था | बाहों ने तो उसका साथ छोड़ चुका था | वो भोला को पढ़ा लिखा कर अच्छा वकील बनाना चाहता था ताकि उसके जैसे और गरीबो का वो भला कर सके कानून के सहारे | लगातार पांच दिनों की हार के बाद भी उसने अपना इरादा बदला नहीं था | वो उन लोगो में से नहीं था जो आसानी से हार मन लेते, वो तो उन लोगो में से था जो हमेशा बुलंद इरादों के साथ आगे बढ़ते थे | ज़िन्दगी ने उससे बहुत कुछ ले लिया था पर बदले में उसे बहुत कुछ दिया भी था | ज़िन्दगी ने ही उसे आगे बढ़ने और हिम्मत न हरने का पाठ पढाया था | उसने फिर से कोशिश करने की ठानी और रात के खाने के बाद वो चारपाई पर जा के लेट गया | उस रात उसे नींद नहीं आई | उसे सारी रात अपने बीते हुए कल की याद सता रही थी | उसने कभी नहीं सोचा था की रौशनी उसे इस हालत में छोड़ के चली जाएगी | वो उसे वापस बुलाना चाहता था, पर चाह कर भी वो अपने आप को रोक लता था |

दुसरे दिन तडके ही वो उठा | उसने सोते हुए नन्हे गोपाल को प्यार भरी निगाहों से सराहा और उसी वक़्त फ़ौरन घर से नौकरी की तलाश में निकल गया | आज का दिन उसके लिए अलग था | आज उसके मन में बहुत आशाएं भरी हुई थी | उसे अपनी ज़िन्दगी एक नए सिरे से शुरू करने की किरण नज़र आ रही थी | वो अपनी इस ख़ुशी में इतना मग्न हो गया की उसे सामने से आती हुई ट्रक नहीं दिखी | ड्राईवर ने ज़ोरदार ब्रेक लगाए, पर तब तक बहुत देर हो चुकी थी | उसका सर नारियल की तरह फूटा और उसमे से रक्त के झरने बहने लगे | वो दर्द से तड़प रहा था पर कोई भी उसकी मदद करने सामने नहीं आया | कमजोरी के कारन वो तुरंत बेहोश हो गया |

थोड़ी देर बाद जब उसे होश आया तो उसे रोने की आवाज़ सुने पड़ी | उसके आखों की रौशनी धीमिल होती जा रही थी | उसने कुछ महसूस किया और उस दर्द के बीच भी उसका चेहरा ख़ुशी से खिल उठा | सड़क के बीच में उसका अपना गोपाल उसके पास बैठा था | तेज़ धुप से उसका दर्द और बढ़ता ही जा रहा था | उसे गोपाल की चिंता होने लगी | वो गोपाल से कुछ कहना चाहता था पर उसकी बुझती हुई सांस ने उसका मुंह खुलने से रोक लिया | गोपाल ने धीरे उसके सर पर हाथ फेरा | और वो सिर्फ यही सुन पाया - "बाबा मुझे छोड़ के मत जाओ न!"

I'll wait for you...

2011-04-12T11:05:00.000-07:00

"Please take care of my only daughter" - said the moribund woman lying on a charpai. Death quickly embraced her a moment later and she was one of those spirits.

This all came as a sudden blow to me. I looked to my side. The little girl was still holding my hand tightly and watching her ailing mother die and vanish into the vacuum. She quickly clenched her fists and huddled close to me. She must have been around 8 to 10 years old. She was scared.

I decided to take the girl home. I too was just 15 years of age. After my parents, Colonel James Kirpatrick died in a road accident, I was left all alone in the big oak manor situated on top of a hill in Binsar. I used to live there with my caretaker - William Shockley.

As Jhumli entered our lives, my loneliness went down the drains and we became very good friends. We used to play basketball in the evening and then go for long walks. We used to chase ghurals, deer and monkeys.

As time passed by, Jhumli grew into a young beautiful girl. I always used to tease her talking about her marriage and she used to blush like anything.

y exams were approaching near. It was a stormy evening. When I opened the window of my room, I saw her. That was the first time i witnessed her true beauty. As the wind carassed her face, her loose hair were flying like smooth strands of silk. Her pink trembling lips moved in a rhythm and her dark skin became effulgent with the sunrays. Her hazel eyes expressed her happiness as she moved on the farther end of the verandah singing her favourite tune. That was the first time I started loving her secretly. her beauty had bowled me over.

Suddenly our eyes met and she came running to me, took my book, threw it on the table and pulled me in the verandah. I couldn't stop staring at her. She seemed to envelop the beauty of nature. Her laughter was euphonous and I was completely lost. That night I dreamt of her. She was pristine and prestigious to me.

The next morning I woke up early and went out to take a long stroll amidst my pine friends. I thought a lot and finally made up my mind to express her my feelings.

When I returned back; Jhumli was standing with Altaf, our cook Mustafa's son. Before I could understand the scenario, she came closer to me and expressed her desire to marry Altaf. It came as a sudden juggernaut to me. My words froze in my mouth as a myriad of emotions hit me. I was both happy and broken at the same time. Her innocent smile and puppy eyes made me realise that we both were miles apart. I wished her luck and quickly settled in the darkness of my room.

As the candle flickered, the silhouette of our friendship took various forms. My existence was more of a protective nature as promised to her ailing mother. i wiped my tears and slept an unpeaceful sleep that night.

The next day, I married her off to Altaf. Before leavign for her in-law's place, she cried aloud, hugged me tight and the n quickly ran away to the tonga. This all left me rooted to the very place for the next few years.

As I write today, four years have passed after that incident but her aroma still lingers around me and i still love her.

Today morning Altaf came to inform me about Jhumli's death. She died of cancer.

"As you go miles apart from me, I sit back looking at the night sky and searching for you. I remember our long walks. I try to search for you frantically amongst the stars and cry silently. Come back soon dear Jhumli. I'll wait for you in the verandah. I'll wait for you to join me in one of those long walks. I'll wait for you to make me smile like four year back.

Yours ever

- Richard Kirpatrick.

Down the memory lane :-)

2011-04-11T07:23:00.000-07:00

Song - Photograph

**Jab ghar ki raunak badhana ho,

Deewaro ko jab sajan ho,

NEROLAC, NEROLAC!!!

This song used to be my favourite during my childhood days.

Those were the days when skirts and frocks were the desires,

a world away from the glaze of sapphires.

Forgive me, for I tried to compose a pathetic rhyme. But back then, all my creations were cat-bat, kite-fight, so-go types. Frankly speaking, I do miss those days.

# As I open the gate and step in the graveyard;

where lay the memories buried deep,

flashbacks conjure themselves in the courtyard;

where the tiny beings still frolic and eyes weep.

# The spirit of childhood gets unleashed;

which makes way into the present all clandestine.

The present gets all slowly vanished,

as mind enters some memories; pristine.

# Crayons, water colours and drawing sheet;

paint brushes turned imaginations to desires.

With wings of fantasy and tiny feet,

Moon was all what little mind could aspire.

# Brilliant glaze and the face had a charisma;

with a garland of moments of past;

I enter the miasma,

where the light fades away and eyes suffer a holocaust.

# With the wings all clipped;

as the present bleeds tears,

life's role seems to have been flipped

as raucous rhythm builds up fears.

# With a hope in the Pandora's box still left,

I dream of the days so green.

I desire to go back to the shallow depth;

where the heart leaps high, all unseen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My first time!!

2011-04-11T07:21:00.000-07:00

I was turning the pages of my table calendar when I co-incidentally came across 22 December . I turned it up hurriedly but only to turn it back in a moment. I didn’t want to get into it but somewhere my heart wanted me to remember something.

~~~~~~~

(some 3 to 4 years back)…

It was 22nd of September. God! How on earth did I forget this day. I began cursing myself. But it still wasn’t late. So, I dialled the number and the pleasant caller tune began to seep in.

“Hello”, he said.

My God, the phone number did exist! My heart started beating loud. I made sure that he didn’t hear it. Finally I regained my senses and said, “Hello! How are you?”

The voice, it was soothing for I had heard it after so many days, damn, they were uncountable!

“Yeah, I am fine. How is it going?”, he enquired.

I was immediately lost in thoughts. I clearly remember it was May 2005. Our flight landed on the airport, the city of chaos and beauty stood majestically, and I won’t forget to mention that he was there to receive us! Sweet Jesus, I didn’t have any slightest of an idea that the very person would turn up to be my biggest crush ever.

That time I was only interested in seeing the snow-clad mountains and taking in the fresh mountain air. I felt alive again. I didn’t even care to see his face. And to add to the height, I didn’t say him hello. I straightway proceeded towards the car and we all reached the hotel. Malgudi 1 didn’t get into me till then, it was to me like any other tourist place. I was there merely as a person who was seeking some fun out of that trip. I enjoyed the tea in his company unaware of the fact that the following day would spin me around blindfolded and give me a totally new direction to walk on.

“Hey, are you there still?”, he asked again.

Oh! Yeah, I so wanted to tell him that yes, I was still there for him. But then I compromised with my feelings and said, “Yes, I am there. I wish you a very happy birthday!”

“Thankyou for remembering it”, he said delightfully. I could make out that he was actually happy.

Just ‘it’. No, I wanted to tell him how I remembered each and every moment spent with him. I also could tell him each and every word that he had told me during the time we were together. It had all got embedded deep inside me. But he didn’t remember a single thing. I felt pity on myself.

“My pleasure. So, what is new in your life?”, I blurted out.

I very well knew the answer of this question as far as my life was concerned. Parts of my life went missing since that very day when my destiny started playing the game of hide and seek with me. It brought us together and at the same time paved way for our quick separation.

“Well, I got a promotion. I also went for a trip to……..blah….blah….blah”.

I wasn’t listening to him. Damn it. I was just drowned in the flashbacks my mind was constantly showing me.

**The next day, as per our plan, we all left for Malgudi 2 and as usual, I was occupying the back seat. I loved to sit there. I felt like a king. I could keep a watch on every one, play pranks, listen to everyone and at the same time enjoy the free space and the beauty from the big window, without any obstruction. It was so simple, yet so brilliantly complicated! But as soon as he came in there to join me, my smile dried away. I hated him for that and also I started hating my dad who had invited him to join us, for one whole day! The last three words worsened my mood still. To be frank, I didn’t pay much attention to his ‘hello’ again and settled back quietly on my seat.

“…..And what about you?”, he asked and the moment he did that, I let out a sigh. How on earth would I know what about what? I wasn’t listening to him. Didn’t he know! Man! I tried to change the topic.

“So, when are you coming to our place? You had already promised about that earlier!”, I asked reluctantly for I already knew that his reply would be in negative.

I was feeling uncomfortable because he was too disciplined. I had to behave as a decent child and had to hold back all the excitement sprouting up in me. It was difficult. But I was happy on thinking that the blast would certainly throw that foreign body miles apart from me. So much hatred had been building up in me since past few minutes that my temperature began to rise further! I think he got to know of that and that was when we had our first interaction. “Do you like chocolates?”, he asked. Yes, I do like them but I hate you, I wanted to say. But that very moment ‘the concept of not accepting things from strangers’ revived in me and I plainly said , “No!”. But he wasn’t that simple as his looks revealed. Next few minutes saw me laughing and having a conversation with him, all in happy mood. Wondering why? Eh..? Yes, it was his bribe – Chips. I loved them as a kid and couldn’t resist to such a tempting offer. I could do anything for it! During the course of the conversation I realised that he wasn’t that bad. And soon we became good friends. We finally reached Malgudi 2 and then Malgudi 3. The later is a trekker’s paradise. It is a beautiful destination. Mountains, the green fresh grass, pine and spruce trees and the friendly locals – all were just the right ingredients for a perfect hangout place. That was when we actually got to know about each other and I instantly and secretly started to adore him. That was indeed the irony of the situation. The delicious food at night and then a walk to be remembered ever by the side of the river in the dead of the night with the temperature reaching almost zero made me flat. He was awesome. I just kept staring at him all the time. My mouth opened and closed like a goldfish everytime. But since I was a child then, he didn’t seem to mind it. Unaware of the impending danger, I kept walking in the dark and then what followed next made me gasp for breath! He dashed as fast as Edward Cullen and gifted me my life for I was unknowingly entering the river area. I was about to fall but he was just in time. He held me tight and that was the first time I saw into his deep hazel eyes. Oh God! I couldn’t explain what I actually felt that time. I fell in love with him again.

“Well, as per my promise, I would be coming to your place soon. I miss you all”, he added.

Damn, was it necessary for him to add an ‘all’ with it. I just missed him and none other being. And there I was back in his arms near the violent river. I so wanted to be there but time was flying past at a furious speed. He helped me to stand up again and to prevent any further accident he made sure that I held his hand. Oh my! That soft touch sent a chill through my spine and I got instant goose-bumps. I didn’t want to leave his hand. He pulled me closer to him as I was shivering and put his arm around me. It was nostalgic. My senses died away and I was transported to the world of dreams. I wanted to stay in that very moment but the bubble burst out. It was time to sleep. The next morning was a terrible one. For he had to go back for some work and we had to continue the journey ahead. Damn, I almost cried. I wanted him to be there with me. Alas! God didn’t hear me then and he left us, or I should say ‘me’. That was the last day I saw him till date but the love for him is still fresh in my heart.

“We all too miss you.”, I forced myself.

That was the first feeling I had had as a human. It was so fantastic. I am still in that very moment and I don’t want to get out of it.

“Hey, I have a good news for you, guess what! I am not coming alone to your place but will bring someone along”, he almost yelled.

My heart started beating faster. Somewhere inside I knew the answer. I still was pretending to be ignorant. They say sometimes ignorance is a bliss, and it indeed is.

I didn’t say a word and I think my silence spoke out my heart.

“Hello!, why don’t you reply”, he asked.

“Oh, yes, I am sorry”, I tried to smile and added, “there was a signal problem. I didn’t get what you tried to convey”.

“You silly girl, I am going to marry! And finally the day arrived. Ok bye now, I need to get back to work. I’ll call you soon for the details. Take care”, that was all he said.

My heart stopped beating. Somewhere deep inside I had known this. I was trapped in time-traps. There was no turning back. My chemical compositions had changed and it was an irreversible change. I just wanted to wriggle out of it. Our first night together on the riverside no longer fascinated me. My glass house had just crashed without any noise. I was perfectly normal from outside but inside there were innumerable pieces.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Tringgggggggggg*, God! The alarm scared the hell out of me. I saw the time, jumped out of my chair and started cursing the clock. It showed 3:00 am! What had I done of all the time before it. I checked more watches after finally agreeing to it. I wanted to sleep but I had none other option than to sit as 5:00 am was the time of my flight back home. I got up and took out my diary from the shelf. There was a thick layer of dust on it for I had not opened it since ages. I cleaned it and finally opened it. There it was – the date 22nd. Instead of being sad, I started laughing hard on my childish act. I just couldn’t believe it was me who did such a silly act. It was a big joke to me. But then, you know, childhood fascinations and infatuations, they are a part of life. It was so superficial yet it seemed so deep then! Well, I was happy that it ended in a better way finally. Love wasn’t my cup of tea anymore. It now seemed to me so weird and pathetic. I was sure I would never again fall in love. But did I know that this surety was to last only for a few more months!

I reached the airport and checked in. I was hungry and the word ice cream caught my attention. To everyone’s surprise, I just ran to the counter and grabbed my chocobar, an all time favourite of mine. I settled comfortably on a couch and started examining the surroundings. There were many people! Suddenly a moving pillar caught my attention! I couldn’t believe it. Was it real, I wondered. It walked towards me. I constantly rubbed my eyes but it was still moving and it finally took a seat opposite me. Oh! It was just a tall and fat chick! Though the words don’t go together but today’s world is a world of exceptions. She took out a bag. I could see various food items in it. And she started munching them. In the process of watching her like a dumbo, I forgot to eat my ice – cream and the heat made it land straight on my T-Shirt and slide all the way down to my knees! Damn, I had spoilt it up. I was feeling embarrassed. My white t-shirt was painted brown. I so wanted to kick that chick. I think she ate about a quintal of that stuff. How on earth can one eat that much. Oh yes! I got it, multiple stomach disorder. I got up and walked all the way to the toilet to clean up myself. I was still hungry. On way, I passed a perfume shop. I came to a standstill when Llama reached my nostrils. I was instantly drenched in cold sweat right from head to toe. I was finding it difficult to exhale. Darn! History had been all around me that day. I wanted to run away from it. How on earth did the scent find me? I hurried down to the washbasin and washed my face. I ran downstairs away from all those horrible things and finally was the first to get into the aircraft. I was excited to go home, after all it had been months since I had last slept on my bed!

Home Sweet Home – Motley Crue – this was what went on in my head again and again. “Ladies and Gentlemen, we are about to land on the Raipur airport….”, and I woke up with a start. Yes! Finally I was back and there were no further chances of crashing! Duh! What a redundant thought. I felt like jumping down but had to wait for the movable stairs. Time went on at a snail’s pace, it seemed and I was getting impatient. I stepped on ground. People started throwing those oh-so-bucolic looks at me. And to make them even more suspicious I added on an evil grin on my face. Yeah! I definitely had something up my sleeves. I spotted the same chick. The grin became even more wider. I was just about to unveil my mischief when my mother who was there to receive me came to know about my evil intentions and I had to leave all my plans and walk back straight to her like a monkey to the ring master.

But, I didn’t care for it was my land and I was born free. I got into my scorpio and that was when my race for three months started!

Where else would it go?

2011-03-27T11:12:00.001-07:00

This world holds a mystery in itself. Nothing about it is certain. It continues to bamboozle the earthlings with its mysterious facades. It draws a line between the artist and the artiste. Everytime I have a look around, I am amazed by the new vignettes. The so resemble the rhythm of life. But the bouquet of every wine doesn't match one's taste! One needs to be astute in grabbing one's piece of life or else the malevolent look of destiny will take you down the drains. And yes! how did I forget the fine piercing needles that come out of the oral cavity! Though Mrs. Malaprop was a fictional character but following her in real world can be quite dangerous! The juggernaut of the blow proves to be fatal and one lands back on the very earth, his/ her alma mater.

I just opened a Pandora's Box and couldn't prevent the unstoppable from reigning the mind. All what is left behind is hope, a four letter word that has enough power to make one move out of the grave alive. But with some, it brings on a lot of negative effect. It paves smooth way from cradle to grave. Vertical integration. ROFL! At times it seems that river of life has become another Styx! You can very well hear the euphonous voice at the bank but as soon as you go deep in, it is the HAdes!

*Did it make a sense!>>* :-|

...

2011-03-23T00:38:00.000-07:00

नानाजी, मुझे वो बड़ा वाला गुब्बारा चाहिए है | नानीजी, आप नानाजी से कहो ना की वो मेरी बात माने |

'बेटा, पहले तुम अपने सर पर वो टोपी पहनो, कितनी धूप है बाहर | अगर तुम्हारी तबियत ख़राब हो गई तो मम्मी तुम्हे फिर हमारे पास नहीं आने देगी |

फिर नानानी ने बच्चे का हाथ धीरे से अपने हाथो में लिया और उसे सड़क पार करवाई |

उसी वक़्त, वो चुभती हुई धूप अन्दर तक छेद कर गई और समय की देहलीज़ के पार जा कर विलीन हो गई |

Dharamshala and Dalhousie memoirs!

2011-03-12T20:50:00.000-08:00

Day 1 (Border and Golden temple)

It was an early start. The onset of the dawn saw us at the New Delhi railway station. The chill of the Delhi breeze tried hard to get inside us but the clothing shooed it off. Finally the ‘Swarn Shatabdi’ Express arrived at the station and the hustle and bustle let the human stream flowing randomly in all the directions. All of us hurriedly got into the train and occupied our seats. Yes! I was finally relieved for I was going to my place – the mountains. 26th February – 6:30 am marked the official start of my vacations! Yippeee! I was so happy. 

After having my hot steaming cup of coffee, I dozed off. The train stopped with a jerk and I woke up instantly. Finally I was in Amritsar. We started off for the Wagha border. We had a letter from a govt. official so we got the front seats and the rest of the people who were without any such favouritism waited for long in a line to get their seats far off. This was the first stage of discrimination and I felt bad. But the other things made me forget that. The army on both sides of the border played patriotic songs. And there was a sort of competition. Each side tried to increase its volume to suppress the sound from the opposite side. Suddenly I saw Indian flags running everywhere. A closer look revealed that young enthusiastic girls were running here and there with the Indian tricolour. It was their way of expressing affection and respect towards India. A moment later Pakistani flags were to be seen everywhere on the other side. All this was followed by parade and the opening of the gate of India and Pakistan. The soldiers on both the sides tilted the mast of the flags and took them to their respective places. After the official procession, people started dancing to the bollywood songs. I was guided by BSF Inspector Ajay Yadav towards the no man’s land. There I saw a barbed wire strong fence supported by iron pillars. And in between there was an open space. On the other side were standing numerous innocent Pakistani men and women. There was no attitude. And then I turned back to see the attitude of the wealthy and rich Indian crowd. The superiority complex was clearly visible. Same was the case with the rich Pakistani people. The difference made me uneasy. I walked back to the diversion. The lush green fields on either sides of the fence showed no difference. Each leaf appeared to smile in its natural way. Some parts of the long leaves on one side of the fence tried to make their way towards the other side and vice-versa. The water which irrigated the fields knew no bounds. It nourished both sides equally with its mineral contents. Suddenly two ravens crossed the fence and went to their nests. It made me smile. When nature knew no boundaries then what right had we to set up physical and useless distinctions. I so wanted to tell them that very moment but as soon as I saw the proud and sarcastic faces of the army men on both the sides, my thought too got separated by the border. It was really difficult to let that happen, especially when people on both the sides were trying to look down upon others.

On way back the picture of the soldiers at the Indo-Pak border in Rajasthan emerged in my mind. That border was not as peaceful and this one. There was no procession like this and no spectators. It was only the soldiers on both the sides who had to undergo harsh weather conditions to safeguard their motherlands. The people who were dancing to the tunes had absolutely no idea what the word ‘border’ meant. Their get up and fashion clearly revealed their attitude towards the border security force. They weren’t aware that their safe life was totally the gift of the BSF. Lot of scattered thoughts took birth in my mind and I wanted to cry for no reasons. But before I could start, our vehicle stopped at the Atari Raliway station.

My mother yelled – this is the same place where Shahrukh Khan and Preety Zinta meet for the last time. I tried to rack my brains and finally stamped on the truth of the statement. While others were busy in associating that place to various events and talking to the locals there, I went inside. Finally I was there where I wanted to be. The eerie silence at the station clearly reflected the invisible line running in between the two countries which they call the border. The lone platform stood shivering in the cold. The three tubelights tried to give it whatsoever warmth they were capable of providing. The old railway track running parallel to its entire length tried to smile and welcome me to the sensitive area. It had seen the bloodshed during the partition. It had tried to smile that time but each time it cried instead, on seeing the trainloads of corpses. Since then its smile had gone dry. The winds of the violence made it shiver with fear. On the other side was the new platform which was actually in use now-a-days. The situation was a lot different in the present times.

Suddenly I remembered ‘Train to Pakistan’ by Khushwant Singh. I could very clearly visualise what Mano Majra people would have experienced during the partition - a painful and sensitive topic which everyone wants to overlook. It was about to rain so I fled to the vehicle and we started our journey back.

We then went to the Golden temple and appreciated its grandeur and beauty. The walking place was laid down with pure white marbles. It was hard to believe that this very place had the bloodstains during the operation blue star of 1984.

Ironically this place formed a nexus between all the three colours – blue, white and golden. It had temples of many Gurus. I saw many people having bath in the deep dark waters of the pond surrounding the temple. There people from all shades of life – rich to poor. The extremities had no value inside the premises of the temple and that is what makes it the place of ‘guru’. Small children with running noses were made to take a dip in holy waters so as to get rid of their worries. The atmosphere all around was heavy, it was full of ‘devotion’.

With the onset of night all of us enjoyed the quality time at the roof top as the speedy wind lashed our faces. The day was different. It gave me lot of thoughts to ponder over. I had witnessed things which were phases apart that day. With ongoing clashes in the grey matter of my brain, I went to sleep only to wake up the next day with all the thoughts carefully jacketed inside the folds of the brain with the tag – to be visited soon but later!

Day 2 – Dharamshala.

I slept peacefully after days of hardwork and that made me relaxed. I woke up in the morning and the hot water massaged me entirely. The bath was simply divine. The hunger showed up as soon as the clock struck 10. The sumptuous breakfast was soothing and we started off for Dharamshala – the real mountains. The journey started in fertile plains and ended in the steep slopes. As we proceeded through the lush green fields on either sides of the road, the effort of the farmers clearly showed up. We passed Noorpur, Gaggar, Shahpur, Pathankot and from there took another road for Dharamshala. But my imagination was completely thwarted by what I saw. I had imagined a lush green forest cover but instead there were acres of arid land with dry crops. The slopes were full of terrace farms and the green pine trees watched me with helplessness. Someday they too would be chopped down to make a place for some house or some farm. The immobility of the trees was their greatest enemy – I thought. The exponentially growing population was a threat to the nature. It was devouring the forests and its inhabitants like locusts. Even inaccessible slopes were the places of residence now-a-days. But finally the farms gave way to green slopes and I calmed down. We were in Dharamshala. Situated on the picturesque slopes of Dhauladhar mountain range, it boasted of its little population and scenic beauty. The entire town flourished along a single road. The livelihood of the people there depended solely on the tourist inflow. There were hawkers selling various Tibetan handicrafts while others survived by selling woollen clothing. After keeping our luggage in our rooms, we decided to take a stroll on the road. The onset of the dusk saw us at a view point. The sunset was ambrosial. Flocks of birds flew back to their nests and the entire town became alive with lamps and lanterns and lightings. On way, I spotted a shani temple. There was no one in there. Inspite of hating to go to such religious places, I removed my shoes and stepped on the steps. They were ice cold. An old big tree acted as a side wall. And inside there was a small cave housing the god. There were creepers and big black ants all around. There seemed a great bond of friendship between them and the mice for both of them lived in the crevices and survived on the offerings made by the devotees. The sound of the bell broke the prevailing silence and all the tiny inhabitants looked around full of curiosity. It was a lovely sight. Finally I walked back to the main road. I searched my bag and surprisingly I found a ten rupee note. That was the need of the situation. I hurriedly crossed the road and gave it to a vendor there. He gave me a packet of roasted groundnuts – simple and cheap pleasures of life. Long, meandering, dark roads, joyful chirp pf the birds, the hustle and bustle of the tourists around, the sound of the hawkers, the chilly mountain breeze and groundnuts seemed to be a perfect combination. The clock struck 8 and it was time to pack all the things. All the shops were on the verge of shutting down. I incidentally entered a souvenir shop and met Mrs. Anuradha Dogra and Mrs. Sunita Kaushal. Their high thinking and simple living moved me. I took their video but later I learnt that my dratted camera didn’t record their voice. It was absolutely disgusting.

It was time to return back to the warmth of the room. The chilly breeze forced all the inhabitants to snuggle up comfortably in their respective abodes and the road was once again all empty. The occasional flickering of the street lamp gave me goose bumps. It was the perfect backdrop for Jim Corbett’s ‘Man-Eater of Rudraprayag’. With the passage of time the dark clouds descended down and the dense fog enveloped the entire town and reduced the visibility. The corridor in front of the room was long. It was dully illuminated and empty. This gave it a spooky look. A glance outside from the window there was encapturing. The mercury vapour lamp threw light in all the directions which was further scattered by the fog droplets and it gave an orangish tinge. There was perfect silence. The clock struck 10 and it was time to get back to the dream world. The ‘do not disturb’ tag on the knob of the door had enough power to keep anyone out of the room and hence the fantasy world until the next morning.

Day 3 – TCV + McLeodganj

The intense cold kept us in covers until late in the morning. Finally we forced ourselves out and filled in the warm aromatic mountain tea. The vehicle again smooched the dark roads and we reached McLeodganj. It is a beautiful town situated at a distance of 6 kilometres from Dharamshala at a height 1780 metres. It is full of Tibetan people. They earn their livelihood by selling Tibetan handicrafts and handlooms. The people there are basically a mix of the original people from Tibet and local people. Further high is the temple of Bhagsunag. It is an ancient temple of ‘Nag Devta’ as the locals call there. There is no road to the temple. But the motorable road ends at the bus stands and one needs to walk down to the temple from there. The temple is made of rocks and old cementing material yet it is strong enough to withstand the forces of nature. Inside the temple, there was an otter running here and there. It finally vanished in the darkness of the temple godown. It seemed as if it was the oldest inhabitant of the temple. As the time passed by, excitement seeped in. I was becoming restless. Finally we reached the Dall lake and facing the lake was the entrance of the ‘Tibetan Children Village’ which I had always wanted to visit.

The road took a sharp bend and revealed the most beautiful location. The children were playing footlball and cricket in the playground which was more like an intermountain plateau. Snow capped peaks adorned it further. It was serene. I went to the office and there I met Uni and Lobsong Tsomo – the one whose name was famous on Horn Ok Please. It was a great opportunity. Uni took us around the place. The first were the group homes which housed children ranging from 6 years to 14 years. They were taken care by a house mother. The girls and boys had separate dormitories. Group homes were the perfect places to develop great family bond among the children residing there. Uni told us that whenever the passed out students used to come to the re-union ceremonies, they used to search for their house mothers and batch mates. Next was the play ground. It was surrounded by classrooms on one side and the auditorium on the other sides. The upper slopes boasted of a beautiful building which was the senior boys’ hostel. Next came the monastery or the common place of worship. Students come there to pray at any time of the day and use the place for studying during the exams. After that was the baby home. It housed kids ranging from 1 year to 5 years. They were looked after properly by 2 to 3 mothers. After crossing stage three of 5 years, children were shifted to the group homes. Next was the infant section or the play school. It was stunning to hear to hear that some of Uni’s colleagues started the journey of their life from this very baby home.

TCV made perfect use of funds from all over the world to nourish its children and provide them full education.

I noticed tears in Uni’s eyes when she gave a brief speech which I forgot to record as I too was moved to tears. In her words –

When the children come from Tibet, they come with absolutely nothing. There the people have to face lot of hardships and they lead a life of slavery. The children have to cross mountains in the harsh and cold weather to come here. The parents leave their kids here for the sake of education. Some just leave them when they are infants and never take them back. Some children even don’t know their place of birth or about their parents. Many of them have no bonding for their parents. Other don’t even know whether their parents are alive. I too come from Tibet. I completed my studies in Mysore. Though India is a second home for all of us but still it pains inside for being away from our motherland. The love for motherland still exists deep in us. We still live with the hope of returning back some day.

This was indeed touching. I was moved to tears. The TCV kids have a stabbed history behind them. Still their smiles are so lovely. They are the bastions of innocence. They need a salute from all of us. They have fought bravely with the circumstances to be what they are today. We have parents, relatives and many more people to take our care or to seek shelter in times of difficulties but those children are all alone on this world. They have no one whom they can call their own. They have no parents to hug in times of difficulties. These children lead a life of difficulty. But hats off to TCV for what it is doing. The care, the love, the love it provides to these children knows no bounds. I have so much more to say about TCV and the kids there but it can’t be conveyed through written text. If at all one need to feel all this, one must surely visit the place someday. While descending down the stairs of the office I saw a little girl who was busy painting. The scattered crayons around her clearly reflected her childhood. In the white paper there were two persons – a male and a female on a road and in between them was a little girl. It didn’t take long for me to recognize that she was making picture of her family. I asked here about her home town. What she said shook me from within and made me cry. Her words – Didi, this is my mother and this is my father. The girl walking in between is my sister. My teacher tells me that my parents left me here. She tells that they would return to take me back with them. I have written them a letter and asked them to bring toffee for me. I have also asked them to bring my little sister with them. I miss her. I want to play with her. And you know, I don’t even know her name. (She laughs). (She then stands and holds my hand). Didi, see there. My teacher tell thar your home is beyond those mountains. It must be beautiful. Ok now I am going, I have to complete this drawing before the evening as I have to send this to my parents along with my letter. Bye didi.

This was too heavy to bear. These children need help. People! Do visit the place and shower your love and affection on the kids there.

With a heavy heart, I parted off from that girl. We had lunch in between and came back to our room. My head was spinning due to outburst of the situation and I went to sleep with a promise made to myself to help the destitute section of the society.

As I was about to sleep I remember three faces I had completely forgotten – a man, a woman and a small kid. They had no relation among them. The man and woman belonged to separate families who had left their hometown in Chhattisgarh and had come to this far off place in order to earn their livelihood. They were the labourers for the construction work going on in the TCV. The extreme situations prevailing were heartbreaking. When on one side children were sleeping peacefully in the warmth of their beds, the labourer child had no clothes to wear. He was shivering in cold. His running nose made him cry. His helpless face was dreadful. I had a thick layer of jacket and woollens and he was almost bare. I started to hate myself. My parents gave them their visiting cards and asked them to visit Bilaspur anytime. The disparity in a small circle was indeed ridiculous. When on one hand TCV was helping kids with no one to look after them, the labour kid on the other hand was totally at the mercy of the nature and the CG govt had absolutely no concern for them.

Day 4 – Dalhousie

I woke up in the morning to the sound of the falling rain. It is the most melodious tune which makes me sway gently to its rhythm. I drew the curtains apart. The mighty mountains wished me a merry morning and the dark sky produced rumbling sounds. Birds shivered with cold while their young ones enjoyed playing with the drops. Stray animal ran here and there to seek shelter. People huddled up closer in narrow space to protect themselves from the tiny swords of rain. The rain washed off the dirt from the mountain road and it once again looked dark and fresh. The clock struck 9 and the rain stopped. People diffused out in the open still unsure of the weather. But 10 minutes later life returned back to its normal pace. I turned around. All others had had their bath and I was the only one who was still lost in the moments of morning. I quickly got ready and we started off for Dalhousie. After about an hour of drive, we were back in the plains. From there we took another route and as time flew by, the vehicle attained god-speed and we reached Dalhousie. The sleepy town was calm and silent unlike Dharamshala. People were comfortably enjoying the warmth of the room-heaters. We reached our rooms and felt the chill. The chill forced us out in the lap of nature. The chirp of birds was dying away as the rays of the setting sun further high up the mountain peaks. We walked down the slope for about 500 meters and reached the bus stand. It was full of lights and oil lamps. Suddenly a movement to my side caught my attention. It was an old man. His destination was a small hut open on one side. Inside was a gas stove surrounded by kettles and glasses. The hut was dimly lit by the oil lamp which was about to die. Two people were sitting close to the lamp and enjoying the tea prepared by the old man. The smoke was rising up high in the air and the light rays made its streaklines shine brilliantly with an ingrained mystery. It was soothing to watch how the daily routine of the locals revolved around a cosy tea corner.

The clock stuck 7 and we went to the local market. Three narrow lanes emanate from a small round about and each lane is lined up by shops – garments, handicrafts, woollens, eatables, restaurants, Lhasa market, etc. In about half an hour the night life of Dalhousie markets came to an end as all the shops closed down and the 3 narrow lanes returned back to their state of deep slumber until the hustle and bustle of the hawkers the nest morning. We returned back to our rooms, had dinner and went to sleep – on the top of hills, a place British Memsahibs loved.

Day 5 – Rain in Dalhousie

As the clock struck 10, I opened my eyes and had a look all around. All others were sleeping peacefully except my father who was nowhere to be seen. He got up early and went out to enjoy the morning beauty. Finally we all go ready and went to another place to stay in. The table tennis and the pool table saw myself, Anand, mama and baba running with excitement. Table tennis on the top of mountains with a fantastic view around was a perfect idea – a want of the situation. I had held the bat in my hands after so many years. I felt charged up and was lost in the game which I had learnt from my father in class 9^th. It was a divine experience. I dind’t want to return but then there was a butterfly effect and all of us hurriedly ran upstairs to have our lunch. A short walk would have made us reach our destination but sudden rains messed it all. Finally our vehicle took to a south Indian restaurant. Dosa in north India! Whoa! I loved the prevailing irony. Cleary we stand tall in unity in this diverse country. We then went to Lakadmandi from where a trekking route starts for the Kalatop Wildlife sanctuary. The route was all covered up with thick layer of snow. Coupled with the rainfall, the temperature dipped down further. [Khajjiar is just 17 kilometres from that place and we would have reached there early but the road ahead was blocked due to heavy snowfall in the area and hence we had to go to Khajjiar through a longer route, 75 kilometres from Dalhousie through Chamba.] We took some snaps and returned back to the warmth of the rooms. That night ‘udaan’ was up in air and it was touching. Well, let me tell you one thing, this journey is dedicated to ‘train to Pakistan’ by ‘Khushwant Singh’ for no reasons. With no pre-conceived nations, this journey made me see glimpses of the events from the novel in real life. I simply loved it. Good night for day 5! J

Day 6 – On way to Khajjiar

It was time to leave Dalhousie and proceed towards the last leg of the journey – Khajjiar. With a heavy heart, I stepped out of the room. Dalhousie looked even more beautiful with the clouds all around and the splashing rain made it look even younger. Macaws jumped from one roof to another as a part of morning frolic. Our vehicle started and we were on way to Khajjiar. The meandering roads led us to Chamba – a city famous for its temples. The driver wanted us to visit the temple and hence parked the vehicle at a place. As I was about to step out, I noticed something which made me faint. It was filthiest location with city garbage all scattered around. Rain made the mule shit flow all around like a river of mud. And just on the periphery were dhabas. God! I so hated that place. A beautiful city was being spoilt by the shitheads living there. It was a pain to watch the beauty of the city going down the drains.

We soon rushed out of the place and the journey started again. Finally we reached a place some 3 kilometres before Khajjiar. There was a landslide and the JCB didn’t arrive even after the wireless message. The terrain was really non-realistic for it to travel such a long distance. There were just two hotels and no food. And we here hungry like devils. Finally the manager managed to arrange for some food and we attacked it the moment it arrived on the table. But finally after about an hour, the road was cleared of the debris and we reached Khajjiar. It was beautiful. The meadow was lit up with the golden rays of the sun. In the middle was a lake with an estimated depth of 500ft. It might have been a site of volcanic activity some years back. Whole meadow was surrounded by a concrete narrow walkway which was lined by pine trees on either side. Somewhere on the periphery was a forest bungalow. Its white colour had slowly turned green and it looked similar to its green tin roof. In nutshell, it was a perfect ‘forest bungalow’. The farther end of the walkway vanished somewhere deep in the wilderness and re-appeared soon after that. The entrance of the meadow was crowded with hotels. There were numerous tea corners which attracted the tourists especially the younger lot with their display of hot and steaming maggi bowls. The main road was full of horses and their owners were searching for tourists who could provide them with their daily wages. There were many hawkers who were moving here and there through the entire width of the ground holding their cameras and displaying the stylish images they took once upon a time of the tourists. The name of mini Switzerland was perfect.

Suddenly it started raining and hence we had to rush to our hotel – hotel mini swiss! The temperature began to dip further. Body started losing its warmth and I started shivering. I wanted to bring back the lost warmth as soon as possible. And a mere thought of this appeared in the form of an evil grin. Out of the many possible options, I chose to play table tennis. 45 minutes of the game perfectly restored the heat and the passion. Though the atmosphere for my passion to flourish was missing but thinking it as temporary I settled back in the cosy couch which was positioned so as to catch a perfect view of the snow clad mountains.

The clock struck 8 and it was time to sleep. It was a little weird to sleep early as I am a perfect night owl but the chill lingering around forced me in the covers. I slept near the door and the chill made its way from the cracks and crevices. For the first time I felt the absence of my senses. My head turned into a clod heavy rock and I shivered again. But the tired mind and body took charge of the situation and I returned to my state of deep slumber, a state of dreams – a country of purity and serenity was about to welcome me. As soon as I closed my eyes, I felt the warm touch of my destiny on my cheeks. Startled by the situation, I opened my eyes and sat up instantly on my bed. Every one was sleeping and an eerie silence prevailed around. I peeped out of the glass window. Entire village was in deep sleep except for the occasional bark of the dogs. The mountain breeze tried hard to force open the window but failed each time. The outcome was a rhythmic thud. The slopes reflected darkness. Nothing unusual was happening and hence I returned back to the state of sleep until the next morning.

The night was violent. Clouds enveloped the entire village and rumbling sounds rained the entire night. There was thunder coupled with torrential rains. It was all too fearful.

Day 7 – Dribble in Khajjiar

I woke up in the morning. It was a heavenly feeling. Sunshine showed up for a small amount of time. The snow clad peaks looked picture perfect. 7 distinct ranges were clearly visible. It was a lazy morning. The door bell rang. I opened the door and there stood a cup of hot steaming mountain tea. The steam was reluctant to leave the warmth of the cup and this clearly reflected the intensity of the cold. I held the cup delicately and went out in the balcony to sip it in the lap of nature. The pigeons on the top of the roof seemed to enjoyed the bright morning. Their playful mood said it all. Cattle were grazing peacefully on the green slopes. Their shining hair made them look even more beautiful. Ravens flew up high in the air. In nutshell it was a photogenic day! I quickly got ready. I spent that day in the meadow and in the snow clad slopes. The evening tea blushed for it saw the marmalade orange colour of the handsome mountains. The sunlight reached high up the slopes to finally declare the onset of the night full of stars. It was time to sleep. But this was the last night of the journey in the mountains. So, I enjoyed it to the fullest by spending it in solitude – with the forces of nature. I slowly closed my eyes and imagined myself as a free mountain spirit and hence enjoyed the boundless joy of freedom. I ran with god speed on the glades, in the forest, on the rocks and finally fell asleep until the next day.

Day 8 – The last day of the excursion.

Love...Once upon a time

2011-02-12T08:49:00.000-08:00

The mountain breeze gained speed and forced open the window. It rushed inside. The girl shivered and pulled her shawl close to her. Her hair were let loose and rays of moonlight enlightened her figure. Her watery eyes glazed with brilliance and her pink lips trembled. All of a sudden he got up from the chair and kissed her.

Completely stunned by his act she uttered - 'Sahib!!!'

And then it rained. The smell of wet earth lingered around. Some drops made their way in his small straw hut. Things around were soaked in chilled water. The cold increased its intensity. She was even more frightened. She resembled a wild mountain sparrow caught in a cage forcibly.

Her wild spirit and innocence was what beguiled him.

Hence a new story started in the straw hut located on the top of the mountain. The sound of the bells from a distant temple located deep in the heart of the valley broke the silence.

And it rained again. But not the clouds, nor the weather. It were her and mine eyes...

100 seconds

2011-01-01T01:21:00.000-08:00

I wanted to write something but what I could write was only this much. I know you would be flooded with many wishes and hence I won't take much of the time. It is just a matter of 100 seconds :-)

Words can't say more than our invisible feelings for you. You are the best chief.

*$mack!!*

I woke up in the morning and opened the window. The chilly breeze lashed my face . The surroundings appeared dull and hazy and every being was lost in deep slumber. I couldn't hear the twittering of the birds. I looked around. My room too was drowned in darkness. There was a mysterious silence which prevailed in every nook and corner. The hands of the clock appeared to have stopped.

While I was engrossed in my dark world, a ray of light peeped in through the window and landed on the marble floor. The floor reflected it and the ray leaped high. It then embraced the mirror and the entire room began to glow.

Curiosity took charge of me and I popped my head out of the window. What I saw was even more beautiful. A ball of fire smiled magnificently. Its orange-yellow colour made it look even more brilliant. I looked around. All the creatures looked dreamily at the fire ball. They were snuggled up comfortably in their quilt of hope.

It was then when the 'sun' smiled. It shone like never before and that forced all the beings to step out and admire it. Its warmth was soothing and it made me comfortable, infact everyone around. That was my first rendezvous with the sun. And I realized that life didn't exist without his warmth.

CHIEF, YOU ARE IMPORTANT. YOU ARE THE SUNSHINE IN OUR LIVES. YOU HAVE BROUGHT ABOUT A HELL AND HEAVEN DIFFERENCE IN THE LIVES OF EACH ONE OF US. YOU HAVE GIVEN US ENOUGH STRENGTH AND ENERGY TO BREAK THE SHACKLES OF SLUMBER. YOU HAVE BROUGHT ABOUT 'AN AWAKENING'.

*YOU ARE THE MOST LOVED AND RESPECTED PERSON IN OUR LIVES*.

IT WAS TOO GOOD TO HEAR YOUR VOICE ON HOP WALL AFTER LONG. :D

WISH YOU A VERY HAPPY NEW YEAR AND I AM SURE YOU WILL BE THE NEXT ON 'TIME' COVER. :)

WE WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER YOU. YOU ARE THE BEST AND THE MOST PRECIOUS MEMORY.

THE POWER OF 69!!!!! :) :)

MAY GOD EVER BLESS YOU. :)

-A HOPpER

\m/

My try :P

2010-12-30T04:22:00.000-08:00

आज भी उन गलियों की रौनक बिलकुल वैसी ही है जैसी की पांच साल पहले थी | आज भी उन रास्तों पर बिछी धूल पैरों तले सिसकती है | आज भी घरो के बाहर लटके तख्ते विज्ञान और इंग्लिश की शिक्षा को देने का आश्वासन देते दिखाई देते हैं |

बिलासपुर की चार दीवारों में ज़िन्दगी थमी हुई दिखाई देती है | पर इन रुकी हुई हवाओं में भी लोगों के चेहरे पे ख़ुशी झलकती है |

आज फिर से गिल्ली डंडा खेलने को जी चाहता है | उन बच्चों को देख कर फिर से अपने बचपन में लौट जाने को दिल चाहता है |

उन मासूम चेहरों पे हँसता खिलखिलाता बचपन उस ताजे हवा की झोके की याद दिलाते है जिसे किसी की परवाह नहीं होती, जो अपने में ही मस्त रहता है |

स्कूल की घंटी बजते सुन अपने दोस्तों के साथ ज़ोर से दौड़ने को दिल चाहते है | एक दूसरे को धक्का दे कर बारिश के कीचड़ में उछलने को दिल करता है | मैडम की नज़रों से बच कर क्लास से बाहर भागने को जी चाहता है |

जी तो बहुत कुछ करने को चाहता है पर समय की इस देहलीज़ पर खड़े होकर आगे बढ़ने को भी जी चाहता है |

:-) :-)

'The' Traveller...

2010-12-27T00:08:00.000-08:00

I have a pen in my hand after so many years. I feel like I have forgotten my writing skill. I feel as if I am standing on an alien land. I miss some parts of myself.

The reason is very weird. The most unusual thing that could have ever happened to me happened this time.

I have suffered enough of emotional landslides. Now, I am not at all prepared for a sudden new slide. But seeing the temporary cementing of the bond between the rocks, I can foresee the huge devastation of the picturesque slope covered with many beautiful and exotic varieties.

I, once upon a time, built a very beautiful house at a scenic location. It was full of life with all my fantasies coming true. I had been living in that ILLUSION since many years and I loved to live life that way. Many passers-by stopped and expressed their desire to spend some time there but only a chosen few were let in. And those chosen few gave me many precious memories which I still cherish. But being travellers, all were destined to leave.

And they left one after the other. Each traveller was special to me in a unique way. With a promise of returning back, they left.

Everyday, I used to sit by the window of my house and stare at the tress-passers. My eyes used to search frantically for those who had left but the search always went in vain. Hope too seemed hopeless. And after days of repeating it, I got used to whatever was going on.

And then, it was time for the winters to set in. All the birds and animals started preparing for their month long hibernation. Travellers started to reduce in numbers. The window which used to be ajar some days back now blushed of its present state. It was completely sealed and a curtain hid it from me.

Sitting by the fireplace and staring at the snowfall was my favourite activity for the season. And past memories made the time fly.

The slopes were all covered in snow. White was the only dominant colour. Flower buds had decided to stay enclosed in the warmth of the green cover rather than facing the harsh cold. Those which had already blossomed regretted their decision and shivered with their colours fading away. There was a melancholy and dullness hanging in the air. And so was my life. I missed the passers-by.

One evening, a snow-storm had embraced the surroundings and ravaged it. The roar of the storm was fierce and sent shivers all around. Every single thing was trembling because of the fear of the unseen fury. Suddenly, I heard a thump on my door. Thinking it as an act of the speedy air, I didn’t pay any attention to it. But then it came again and again and yet again!

I put on my overcoat and opened the door. The moment I did so, furious cold wind slapped my face and in that mess, I saw a meek, trembling figure. His appearance and unclear silhouette made me take pity of him and I let him in.

I took him near the fireplace and he made himself comfortable in the rocking chair. He was all wet. Water dribbled down his curly black hair. His hazel eyes opened and closed in a rhythm and his pale lips trembled. I felt sad for him. I took a drier and forced off the water and gave him clothes to change. I then offered him a cup of hot drink and then he went to sleep. We didn’t talk that night.

The next day, I prepared tea and went to his room to ask him if he was ok. The moment I saw him sleeping, something happened. His beautiful face, lean figure and the kind of serenity lingering around were the perfect enrichments. I had started liking him!

Soon, we became good friends and we enjoyed each other’s company. We used to take a long walk every evening in the woods. He was so passionate for the nature that he himself made a garden around the house. It was beautifully landscaped with all kinds of flowers. And there was a corner which had all the flowers in red – the colour I loved the most.

Hours, days and eventually months passed after he had arrived. He had become an integral part of my life. The strangest thing was that in all that time, never even once had I asked him his name!

And finally the day arrived. I woke up in an empty house. I missed his warm morning hug. He was nowhere to be seen. I searched every nook and corner and all I could find was a note with ‘Bye’ scribbled on it!

I fell down on the ground. I had no courage to accept the reality that he too was one of the travellers and had temporariness associated with him. I wanted to call his name aloud but was helpless. For the first time in my life, I felt pangs of separation. My heart yearned for him. A traveller had come and walked away leaving his deep imprints behind.

Suddenly, the garden turned pale and the flowers lost their charm. I went near the red flowers and a mere touch sent out a river of tears. I cried, cried and cried…

That was the last day I ever came out of the house. I also hung a note – ‘tress-passers not allowed’ outside the door.

Today, when I take a deep breath, I realise that many years have passed after that incident but still my heart waits for a thump on the door…my ears still wait for his voice. My eyes still yearn for a mere look.

And the door still waits to let ‘THAT’ traveller in…

BoRn fReE

2010-12-15T03:05:00.000-08:00

It was almost midnight and my friend was still talking to her boyfriend. I was getting disturbed and out of anger I shouted back at her. She gave me a deadly look and left the room. Moments later she came back with tears in her eyes. Her boyfriend had dumped her. The next morning she got up and seemed absolutely normal. With a smile on her face she told me that she would try for a different and handsome guy. With this thought in her mind, she left.

I was left wondering. This break-up thing was like a child’s play in today’s world.

I enjoy being single. Rather than being captured in a small shell, I have the entire world open for myself. I know that many others would be against this opinion but this is what I strongly feel! And as far as love is concerned, yes I am in love – with myself! This may seem strange.

I have seen many people killing themselves for love. Well, according to me, this is a cowardly act. We owe our life to our parents who put their entire strength and energy to get us educated. They have many rosy dreams for our future. No! one is not at all entitled to end his/her life that way.

I feel so free at this stage. I feel the beauty of the nature around. I don’t need to be particular about time or dress-sense. I don’t need to please someone. I don’t need to put that plastic smile on my face. I don’t need to show fake emotions. I don’t need to think about someone when engrossed in work. And I don’t need to miss someone badly and spoil my entire day. I don’t need to go out with someone. I don’t need to think about joint future or marriage or anything like that. I am free of worries. How free I am!

People feel alone and long for a company. But I never felt alone. I always felt some invisible presence beside me. I and myself are two different perspectives. Myself is always with me.

All this thinking is a result of sudden transformation of my soul. I love to do things that bring me happiness and smile. And writing is my passion . The day I again held pen in my hand, that was the day when I regained my confidence, that was the day when I got closer to myself.

You know what, there are many things to do in life. To put smiles on people’s face is the best thing one can do. And I feel like a saint now a days, I feel detached from the world. I feel enlightened. I feel that divine light inside me. Relations and worldly acts have gone to a redundant corner of my mind. I can clearly see and feel my aim in life.

I am definitely going to help the needy people and put my best to it. We need to make the world a better place to live in. There are many people in this world who need support. I’ll be the one who will work for it. I will be the agent of change.

I tried to compel many people towards social service but it seems that everybody is busy with his/her life. I was disheartened as I always believed that ‘one’ is not appropriate but a combination of number works. But today I know that I was wrong. I can do many things.

And I’ll do it for sure. After all India 2.0 does matter to me.

PS – I guess this was my ire which turned up in a piece of writing. Well, I just wanted to convey that build up the fire inside you. And work with passion .Don’t waste your precious life in useless issues. Be the revolutionaries and help me change it. *together*.

Red Light

2010-12-09T08:58:00.000-08:00

Lolita…yes, I clearly remember her name. A young beautiful girl in her sixteen is what still lingers in my memory.

It was a hot day in the month of May and the weather was supersaturated with humidity. It further added to my irritation. I was sweating profusely. I was standing in a grocery shop. As I was new to Kolkata, I had to face many problems in understanding the lingo of the natives. And the same happened there. This poked the ire of the vendor and he started arguing with me. And the worst part was that at that time of the day, there was no other customer in the shop who could have helped me and to add to the misery, the streets too were empty. I was helpless.

Suddenly, a girl appeared out of nowhere and said something to the vendor in Bengali. And yes! It worked. And the vendor returned me my money. I felt relieved at last and thanked the girl. She offered me to accompany her to a nearby sweet shop to which I gladly agreed. We enjoyed Sandesh, a typical Bengali sweet. In that small duration we became good friends.

And after that day, we used to meet at that shop exactly at the same time and used to chat for an hour in the sweet shop. It was fun. And I was happy for I had got a new friend. She was approximately of my age, rather a year younger. She used to tell me various stories and I used to listen to them intently. This had become a daily routine. She also introduced me to her friends – bhola, chhotu, saba, nafisa and her best friend kajri. We used to play in the evening. And in a very less time, they all taught me how to converse in Bengali. We all became inseparable after that. It was a memorable part and we made many beautiful memories.

And one fine day, no one turned up. I waited and waited and finally left. Same happened the next day. I was surprised as till date they would always inform me beforehand. I became worried. And finally I decided to search them myself. I had some pictures of all of us together. I took them to a shop and inquired about the kids. The shopkeeper looked shocked. He just asked me to get out of his shop. I was surprised and at the same time confused. I went to the other shop and the same happened there. I was disheartened as I was not at all able to make out what was exactly going on. Finally, a gentleman helped me and took me to a lane. He hesitated in going further and asked me to continue my search in that place. I thanked him.

The lane was narrow. There were many triple storied houses. The place appeared mysterious. There were many perfume shops, which they locally call – Itra. Plenty of smells mingled together to create a strange scent in the air. There were also many shops selling garlands of jasmine. The sweet aroma all around was in a way too intense and gave me a weird feeling. Suddenly, I saw Bhola and chhotu. I asked them about the girls. At first, they were reluctant to tell me but later pointed to another lane. I walked to that lane. It was crowded. I saw lot of men. And the strange part was that many beautiful women, all dressed up in new clothes and full of make up stood in front of the doors. It was all strange. Men were constantly coming out of the houses while some were going inside, accompanied by those women. And that was when I saw Lolita and Kajri. They looked beautiful with their make-up. But they were crying. And as soon as they saw me, they became happy. Ignorant of the happenings, I persuaded them to come with me to the playground. But they were reluctant. While we were involved in the conversation, a man came out of the house and started scolding them. It was height of inhuman behaviour. It fuelled my anger. I tried to argue with the man. Instead he pushed me hard and slapped both the girls. He then took them in the house. The girls were constantly crying and pleading to him but all went in vain. I was shell-shocked. I hurried down to the door but he shut it up. I thumped it again and again but he didn’t open it. I could hear the cries of the girls. I was helpless, I wanted to help them but no one in the vicinity seemed to understand me. It was disgusting. I shouted loud but no one paid attention. Finally, out of exhaustion, I left the place and came back to my room.

That night I didn’t sleep at all. Prepared to help them, I again went to the same place the next day. I fell down on the ground and lost my control when I saw Lolita. Tears rolled down my eyes and I hugged her tight. She was all bruised. Blood clots appeared all over her hands and legs. And there were cuts on her face. I so wanted to kill the person who had done that to my friend. Suddenly, her mother appeared. She didn’t even take notice of my hello and took Lolita away. She returned a moment later and told me to get out and never to return to that place. She told that her daughter needed to be a good prostitute in order to please the clients and earn a good amount of money. I was left aghast. I couldn’t tolerate it anymore. I just ran to the playground. And I came down with a thud. It was all too painful.

My friend, who used to play with me some days back was now forced into PROSTITUTION! It was unbelievable. And that too by her own mother. Her smile was lost in the crowd. She too was now one of the many women who sold off their body not by will but because of force.

That was the last time I saw her. Infact, that was the last time I saw any of the 5 kids. I am all alone since then. The bond of pure and unadulterated friendship still exists in my heart. The playground still attracts me but I go there only to get a slap of reality…

But I am determined to continue my never ending search. I have firm belief that someday I’ll be able to meet all of my lost friends. That would be the best day of my life. We’ll play the same old game then.

Can you help me? I know you can! Please come forward and stop the evil practise of Prostitution. We are the ones who give rise to it and then we are the ones who condemn it. What is the fault of the poor persons involved in this trade? They shouldn’t be looked down, rather they should be helped so as they could start a new life. Instead of wasting money in temple trusts, people can form a rehabilitation centre for them. Their kids should be treated equally. They are like any other human being and have full right to education and other things. There is a lot we can do.

The ‘Red Light’ area in Kolkata (Sonagachi) is not the only place of flesh trade. There are many other places. Please don’t ever think that the workers there adopt the practise all by themselves. It is rather the money which forces them to do so. And once a person is into it, then it continues as a tradition in the family.

We need to break this chain. We need to set those captured souls free. We need to show them the sunshine. We need to help them lead a respectable life in the society. We need to love them. We need to accept them. There is no hard and fast rule to hate them. We are the agents of change. We need to blow the wind in opposite direction and set everything right. And I mean it.

Because I don’t want another Lolita or Kajri to cry the way I saw my friends crying. I don’t want another girl to lose her smile. I don’t want another girl to face exploitation. I don’t want to lose another friend…

:’-(

And it happened...

2010-11-25T22:13:00.000-08:00

Though I had already had my cup of hot steaming coffee but some desire kept poking me from inside and I decided to go for it once again. A very god friend of mine joined me too. But something unexpected happened at that moment and hence the coffee shop was on the verge of closing! We were left open mouthed! We both dashed to the place and begged the shopkeeper till he really dropped dead and decided to get rid of us by giving us two cups of hot coffee flavoured with all his irritation which further increased its temperature! But anyhow, it tasted good. We had a good chat after days and hence more than an hour passed and then did we realise the urgency of the situation! Damn! He was to complete his project. So, it was over and I really had a great time.

But let me tell you one thing. At this point of time, winters have already stepped in the lovely city. So our institute area was all fully covered in fog and the visibility dropped down to almost 15 metres. So, on my way back to the hostel, I had to keep and eye on the road to keep myself from falling. But all of a sudden I raised my head and looked around, with keen interest. Yes, it was all so strange.

I looked at my watch and almost let out a shriek as it was 4 in the morning. I looked around, there was not a single soul around. And the entire campus was bathed in dense fog. The yellowish orange tinge of the sodium vapour street lights just added to the beauty and their rays seemed to be channelized in a particular direction. I looked up and there stood the mighty trees. They seemed to be welcoming by shaking off their beautiful little pearls on me – the dew drops. I felt so comfortable and safe in their custody. The road was all wet. The pin drop silence around was amazing. It actually made me hear so many interesting sounds and that too all at once. I could feel all the free spirits around me.

To be frank, that was a divine experience. I felt enlightened. I felt as if my soul left my body behind on those lonely roads and chose to wander with those beings who made their presence felt. As I continued walking further, the tiny droplets hanging around ended their journey on my face and trickled down gently so as not to hurt me.

I don’t know why but I was certainly feeling different then. That surrounding in a way cemented the dying bond between me and IIT Delhi. I swear I would have sat down there and would have written endlessly if I would have had my black book then. Innumerable thoughts sprouted up in my mind in a flash of a second and simultaneously left me. I could see their spiral streak line. I was literally encaptured by the beauty of that moment.

And suddenly, tears started trickling down from the corners of my eyes. I was shocked as I absolutely had no reason to cry. I thought for a moment that I was in a fight with myself. But all this proved to be wrong. When the tears reached my lips and finally inside, they weren’t salty. They were sweet indeed. Tears of happiness. Never in my life had I been so immensely happy. Today was my day. And hence I planned to enjoy it further.

I decided to take a short walk again in a secluded part of the campus. It was all dark around. A cool breeze started blowing right then. It was awesomeness. The chill reached right within to give the feeling of a thousand piercing needles! Suddenly everything seemed so mysterious and full of life. It all made me wonder. But then IT happened. I saw a figure moving towards me from the other end of the road. My eyes weren’t able to make out his/her identity. I was completely frozen and scared to the core. I wanted to shriek aloud but the words froze in my mouth. I wanted to run as fast as THE HOUND but my bones got interlocked and wasn’t able to move even by an inch. The silhouette continued to advance towards me and with its each advancing step my heart beat became faster and faster. I was about to faint when I saw a dog coming towards me from nowhere! I couldn’t believe my eyes. I was damn confused. I was perfectly sure about the human figure that I had seen just seconds back. The sudden appearance of the dog made me wonder. By this time I was all drenched in cold sweat and my body started shivering.

It came and stopped right beside me. And once again what I saw left me open mouthed. It was a black german shepherd with some yellow tinged hair. And when it opened it mouth I spotted a mole on its tongue. Man! I can’t at all tell you the feeling I had at that point of time. Damn! It was ex-actly similar to JIMI. Without any thought and provocation I went near it and touched it. Yes, I got the same feeling as I used to get while touching my Jimi. The dog reminded me of Jimi who died last year when I was away. And that was when I saw into its eyes. There was absolute darkness. It had immense depth. And to be frank they were too scary. I felt entrapped. The heaviness around was just unbearable.

All this was getting over me and finally I felt short of courage. I got up and started walking in the opposite direction. But to my surprise, the dog started following me. It scared the hell out of me! Without any further thought, I started running at the topmost achievable speed and reached my hostel. That was the best part. I felt so safe. I looked back at the road behind. It was all empty behind and there was no dog to be seen! It wasn’t possible. I had seen it with my own eyes. Suddenly I missed it. But all this was too random and out of world. So, I rushed back to my room at once and decided to write about this un-natural experience of mine.

I don’t have any opinion on it. I also don’t want to think much about it. All what I know is just that I touched someone who was once a very integral part of my life. This is not a blog but just a spark that will continue to fuel up the fire inside me for years to come.

And I am going to sleep with light on tonight. I am damn scared!

The first ray of warmth, that embraced our hearts! :-) Happy Birthday sweet one.The first ray of warmth, that embraced our hearts! :-) Happy Birthday sweet one.

2010-11-24T05:13:00.000-08:00

10….9….8…7….6….5….4….3….2….1….

BLAST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

18th of November.

Today is a big day. Wonder why? It’s the birthday of the creator of *Horn Ok Please*. Hey chief, wishing you a very HOPpy birthday. May this day turn out to be the HOPpiest and the best for you. We all HOPpers pray to the almighty for your success and fame in every avenue of life. May you come out with flying colours in each of your endeavours. Here goes a toast for Chief and for HOP. May the force ever be with you.

As you turn a year older, your heart turns a year younger. And your skills ripen further and get ready to produce the hypnotic and alluring magical effects! Your capabilities have an infinite depth and immense power. And I am sure of this because I have witnessed the making of *a masterpiece*. We are all spell-bound under your flamboyant spell.

You are a person so good at heart. I am sure the kids at the Mahesh memorial trust and Tibetian Children village would be definitely missing their sunshine as you are away.

Your life seems to be an opera and we feel as if we are using libretto for inspiration. You are an angel who has made us come up with our subtexts. The acoustics of your theater are so good that we actually can hear the whispers of our souls. Fantastic! You gave birth to the real being inside us. The song of life perfectly harmonizes with the rhythm of the divine at HOP.

Your ten fingers have proved to be your best friends till date. There is a beauty in what you create. It reaches deep within. It causes a battle deep inside our souls against the evil. Your thoughts seem perfect in every manner and the best part is that they have channelized a bunch of young Indians to think in a manner they never thought before!
I seriously feel proud to be one in that bunch, the shapers of India 2.0.

And as soon your your name sprouts up, my mind fills up respect and gratitude. You have made something possible which was actually difficult. You are so complicated yet so simple, so mysterious yet so straight-forward. Your brilliance supersedes even the brightest of the illumination.

I think my laptop memory would run out if I start describing you. Words of dictionary too can’t help even to form a silhouette of your personality. You are our guiding force, a very strong personality indeed. A HOPper salute to you!

It is much more than HOP. You are much more than chief.

A BEST FRIEND OF EACH ONE OF US.

And since now you are an integral part of our lives, we would never let you forget us! Your aroma lingers around each one of us. You are the most precious gem. I know all these thoughts would look more of philosophical kind but whatever, they are fresh and straight from heart.

We all love you chief. <3
*$mack!!*
Enjoy the day to the fullest!!!

you re-define innocence and childhood

I couldn't complete this post. It makes me cry. :'-(

2010-11-04T00:11:00.000-07:00

It was Diwali and I was at home during the festival break of our college. The people around were in a festive mood as one could easily make out. Inspired by their enthusiasm, I decided to pay a visit to my own city. It had been long since I last did the same. As I was about t enter the main market I saw a board lying on the road with ‘Tibbati Sweater’ scribbled on it. I went near it and looked around the place. It appeared spooky. How the effect of time turned heaven to hell left me wondering.

I clearly remember, it was a very cold December. Many people died due to the extreme cold in the city. It was rather the coldest year. I was very eager to buy a sweater and therefore had compelled my dad to take me to the very famous ‘Tibbati sweater’ corner.

Though it was set up in a corner in a quiet part of the city but it was a world in itself. People from Tibet had set up various stalls to sell their goods, mainly woollens. The moment I reached there, a smile emerged on my face for I saw many red-cheeked kids there. They all were looking too different. Their small eyes, fair complexion and shy behaviour made me curious. I left my dad amidst a huge heap of sweaters and went to play with those kids. It was a great fun and soon we became good friends. I used to visit them everyday on way back home from school. I remember how my school uniform fascinated them. I used to show them my books. I clearly remember the smile set up on their face on seeing the books. It went on till January end. Now it was time for winters to leave and so had to the Tibetian people. I didn’t want to lose my friends but was helpless. After they left I missed them badly for a few days but life returned to a normal routine after some time and their memories went to some redundant corner of the mind.

Years passed by after this incident. I grew up and so the load of studies. In the following years the sweater shop was set up many times but I didn’t visit them even once.

After some more years, it was December again. And I was in class 11^th. I was free in the evening and hence decided to go to the place. The moment I entered the area I was left shocked. The people with whom I used to play in my childhood were there. They weren’t kids anymore but grown up responsible persons. They recognised me and we all hugged. Suddenly tears began to flow and past memories became fresh. After having spent some time with them, I left for home.

The incident had a deep impact in my mind. It left me thinking. I remember when we were kids, we used to play a game of future wherein we all had to choose the respective professions which we would adopt when we grew up. I always chose to be a farmer and the other kids chose to be doctor, engineer, painter, actor and IAS offcer. They all used to laugh at me for having chosen to become a farmer for according to them that profession had no future and I would end up struggling the same way as their parents did. But I was firm on my future profession. Who knew then that future had something else in store for all of us, it had already planned their destiny. They had no right to dream what they wanted to!

It made me cry. Those future doctors and engineers were forced to sell clothes today to earn their living. Their pink chubby faces had turned so pale. They looked so dis-heartened. And on the other hand, I, the future farmer had books all around me to ponder over.

Suddenly, a car horn brought me back to the reality. I picked up the board and hugged it close to myself. The warm embrace sent tears tricking down my eyes. I felt guilty and ashamed of myself for no reason.

That incident left me in a state of shock for few days....

I just want to say - THINK AGAIN.

I want to study...

2010-11-03T23:45:00.000-07:00

Hello everyone. My name is Tsomo Koenig. I am 10 years old. I live in Leh. My father is a vendor and my mother is a house wife. She cooks very nice food for us. I love her much. I have 2 elder sisters and a younger brother. The sisters have been married. So, presently only me and and my brother live in our small house. He is just 2 years old and is very beautiful. While my father is out for work, I help my mother in the household activities and take care of my little brother. I get up at 6 in the morning. At that time it is very cold in Leh. I want to sleep at that time but my father beats me up if I don’t get up. Then I go to the lake, 3 kilometres from our house, to fetch water to be used in the house for the day. When I return back, I still see my brother sleeping and the serenity on his little innocent face makes me forget all my pain. Then I help my mother in the kitchen. After that I clean up the house. Time passes by and then after the day’s hard work I go to sleep. My father always asks me to take good care of my brother so that he grows up well. He wants to send him to a good school to study. I also express my desire to read but he beats me up saying that girls don’t study. I see girls from rich families going to school and try to argue with him but he beats me even more. After trying for a few more times, I have accepted it as my destiny and have stopped fussing over the issue.

There are many book shops in our city. My mother has no time to tell me stories. When my friends tell me about the stories told to them by their parents, I feel sad. I just go outside the book store and try to imagine my own stories. The attractive book covers make me happy and I flip through the pages trying to understand atleast a bit. But the moment I take any book in my hand, the owner of the shop shoos me away. He calls me a thief. I tell him that I am not a thief but he doesn’t listen.

I then start crying and straightway run to my favourite place. It is an old ruined temple far away from the city, located on a steep slope. It has a small lake near it with a cluster of trees. There are many birds around. I sit by the side of a big tree which is my best friend. I love listening to the song of the birds. The place is my favourite and makes me forget all the humiliation. In our culture, it is a very famous saying that when a person is about to die, he is automatically guided by the spirits to his favourite place so that he can die peacefully there. I want to die here. I love the place.

At times, I feel frustrated and want to kill myself but then my little brother’s face comes before my eyes and I think who would take his care if not me.

Life goes on and on. Sometimes I try to run to the backdoor of a school nearby and try to learn what the teacher teaches to the other kids. But eachtime I get caught and the teacher scolds me infront of the entire class. She says that I am poor and don’t deserve to get free education. I so want to tell her that time that I am not poor and that my father earns money. But I quietly gulp all what she says and slowly get out of the door.

Once I heard my mother say that she would be getting me married in 3 to 4 years. This scared me to the very core as I would have to leave Leh and go to my in-law’s place at Joshimath. No, I wanted to tell her, that I didn’t want to leave my favourite place. But I dare not speak or else my father would beat me up. With teary eyes, I again ran back to my place. I hugged my best friend, the tree, and started crying loudly.

Today, I have decided to pray to God genuinely from my heart. I am also going to tell my friend about this. But I feel sad as I can’t read and write. I wonder as to how would I write my letter to God. But determined over my decision I scribble some random figures on one of the walls of the ruined temple which express my desires –

DEAR GOD, HOW ARE YOU? THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I AM TALKING TO YOU. I FEEL SCARED OF YOU. I WANT TO TELL YOU THAT MY FATHER IS NOT NICE. HE WANTS TO SEND ME AWAY TO SOME FAR OFF PLACE. I DON’T WANT TO GO AWAY FROM MY BROTHER.

AND THE MOST IMPORTANT OF ALL, I WANT TO STUDY! CAN YOU PLEASE SEND ME SOME MONEY SO THAT I CAN GIVE IT TO THE SCHOOL TEACHER SO THAT SHE ALLOWS ME TO SIT IN THE CLASS-ROOM. PLEASE DON’T LET MY FATHER KNOW ABOUT THIS. THIS IS A SECRET BETWEEN YOU AND I. I WILL COME TOMORROW. PLEASE GOD, DON’T BE LATE. SEND YOUR ANGELS TO HELP ME AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.

I KNOW YOU WILL DEFINITELY HEAR MY PRAYER.

Dear all, I have nothing more to say. Tsomo said it all in her letter to the God. Would you like to be her angels and change her life? Please?

Please help her. I beg you all. Do it for her. Let her live her life. Let her realise her dreams. Let her innocent mind and childhood be preserved. Let her be happy.

I can’t convince people on this issue. It is the feeling within that drives the fire. When I grow up and earn money I am definitely going to help another Tsomo and make her feel special. Aren’t you going to do the same?

Girls are special. Infact all the kids are special. Make their life. It is entirely in your hands. Together you all can make wonders happen. Re-define India.

*Smack!!*

DON’T THINK. JUST DO IT. I AM WITH YOU. J

Did I write it? :-\ (Who am I)

2010-11-01T09:29:00.000-07:00

Exactly three months before, the same day I was damn happy for my destiny had touched me and my desires took rebirth after its warm embrace. I was under its spell and could feel the softness and tender touch all around me. The divinity of the moment left me wondering of the same.

But today, I feel so different. I feel low as my heart experiences pangs of separation. My innocent mind imagines my destiny so close to me but in reality it is miles away and my heart isn't ready to accept this. Somehow, because of my instincts, I am not at all feeling elated as my mind stresses more on the falseness of the situation and the slap of reality hits me hard on my face.

Life seems to be singing again its old melancholic song forgetting the new bubbly tune it hummed very recently.

I feel detached from it. Somewhere deep inside, the fear of the unknown lurks and the mind constantly fears of the unseen. The tremors in my heart and brain both cause the tectonic plates of my body to shiver with fear and helplessness.

Even in this hot and humid atmosphere, I can feel goose-bumps all over my body.

All this further lengthens my lonely journey and I feel strangulated. Many unanswered questions that lay dormant earlier sprout up in my mind and life seems so mysterious. Every time I feel myself drifting away from myself.

I try a lot to catch up with the wind blowing past me but to my utter dismay it blows past me but each time with increased fury and speed.

I cannot understand what life wants to extract out of me but still I try to live on. But the false hope keeps on rusting my soul from the inside and with each passing moment I become weaker.

I close my eyes expecting that my beautiful memories would conjure themselves before me but to my horror I see vast stretches of desert with not a single soul around. I raise my hands to pray to God but even he doesn't seem to listen.

The storm of life blurs my vision and I keep stumbling at every obstacle, each time losing my energy and becoming still weaker. I extend my hand and wait for someone to hold it and make me stand up, but this desire remains a dream. I feel so helpless. I feel so dependent. I just want to run away. But my situation still worsens.

I am still waiting for someone to hold my hand and make it possible for me to reach the horizon. The wait seems to extent to infinity...

Invisible love

2010-10-29T09:28:00.000-07:00

My classes got over at around 8:00 pm. It was Friday, the happiest day of our lives. So, inspired by it myself and Saumya decided to go for momos. It would have been the same Friday routine for most of the people but it was something different for me today.

In my short walk to the momo stall, I experienced a thousand feelings. All came rushing to my innocent mind from all possible directions. I looked around for a clue. But there was none. I was just forced to think, think and think.

I stressed hard on the thoughts. And then the brilliantly complicated simple things of life began to unveil before me. Yes, change. That was the perfect word. Atlast, my mental jam was all cleared.

It wasn't the world that had changed, but this time it was me. Till date, I always was a witness to the changing phenomenon. I could always conclude relatively. But today, Devyani was a big question mark to herself. I never thought that I too was meant for a change.

Well, with all these thoughts, I proceeded further. That time, I wanted to confess something to the world. I wanted to open up and share my feelings. I had all these stored up in me, very deep. Even I was unable to reach there. But it all seemed within my reach today.

Then I reached the flower shop and I blurted out to myself what I had not done all these days. Yes, it was damn true.

Coming back to the present. I am in love. I don't know who the person is but I feel some kind of mysterious association to someone. I didn't at all want to blog about this, but it was irresistible. And I am a changed person now. The mere feeling of love changed my attitude. Or rather it changed even before. My angel gave me enough confidence and inspired me hard to bring about a revolution.

The angel then flew away back from where it came. I was left staring blankly at the dark sky. But he left back something valuable with me, it was this feeling. I was no longer alone. I walked back to my destiny. All the time, I felt a presence beside me. There was a soft sensation and my hand was held tight. Whenever I was scared, the invisible force hugged me tight and made me feel comfortable.

Can't explain more. I love you in an invisible manner.

A pathetic writer in me - class 6th

2010-10-17T22:00:00.001-07:00

Once upon a time, there lived a girl named Shirley. She had each and every quality of a sweet and charming girl. She lived on the banks of a river. This was because she was always fascinated by rivers and hence decided to reside there, by the riverside. The place where she lived was next to heaven. There were tall trees which gave her fruits, flowers and offcourse oxygen. There lived different varieties of birds who elevated Shirley's mood by singing many melodious songs. Then, there were various fauna who had become her friends, for Shirley was very kind and generous and helped them in each and every way. There existed perfect harmony between them. Her house was small n comfortable. It had a small entrance n a huge window beside it which provided picturesque view of the river. Actually her hut was on top of a hillock overlooking the river. She had built a small path between her hut and the river bank. It went through a dense thicket, many ravines and trenches and small rivulets. Spending most of the time in the rivulets and shady patches beside them was one of her favourite summer activity.

Though she lived there all by herself but she never felt lonely as she had many friends right there who loved her so much. She never felt the desire 'to possess or to be possessed'. She was happy in her own world of DREAMS.

Her routine was almost the same every day but she enjoyed each and every moment of it. She woke up early in the morning, took bath in the river, worshipped God and thanked him daily for all he had provided her wid. Then she cleaned her hut, washed utensils and then went to the jungle in order to search for some food and small sticks for making fire. Then she came home, cooked food and ate it with her friends. Then she took a nap. And the rest of the time before sunset was usually spent in ravines. Then again she cooked food in the evening, enjoyed it and thanked God for the happy day before sleeping.

This used to be her every day routine until one day, when she decided to swim in the river. That day, the river was still. So, she enjoyed swimming here n there, anywhere, whether upstream or downstream, it didn’t matter. She was so much fascinated by the calm nature of the river that she added this extra feature in her daily routine. She now began to associate the calm nature of the river to eternity.

But one day, what she saw sent a chill through her spine and churned her stomach hard. Monsoons were approaching and hence she got to see the river’s violent nature which she never ever had seen before in her life. But determined over her daily routine, she decided to give it a try. She started to swim in the river and that is when she came to know that there is hell and heaven difference between the so called upstream and downstream which she never earlier experienced. Since she was facing difficulty in going against the flow, she decided to go with the flow, she prayed to God and her journey with the flow started.

She noticed that her friends were standing on the river bank with eyes full of tears. She saw her cosy hut on the hillock. But they all moved away and became distant. Unaware of the fact that she was drifting away from her dream world, she waved to them cheerfully and promised to return soon. On the contrary, her friends knew that she would never return to the same place again. So, they bade her a tearful “GOOD-BYE”.

Shirley was enjoying the ‘ride on waves’. She passed many mountains, huge stones, caves, deserts n many more natural landscapes. Now she had developed the desire that this ride should never end. Minutes, hours n eventually days passed like this. Once she saw some creatures similar to her friends back home and she felt lot happy. She waved to them but none of them seemed interested. Instead, they were all busy in there own work. This made Shirley sad.

Suddenly, she remembered her friends, the calm river, the hillock, her cosy hut, the path. She remembered the happy moments spent with her friends in her dream world. All this gave a piercing feeling in her heart and tears trickled down her divine and beautiful eyes.

Oh, she thought, how earnestly she wanted to go back to her world which was miles away from where she was right then. She yearned for the love of her friends.

She immediately started to hate the very river in which she was swimming. She blamed it for changing her nature and deceiving her (Shirley). She prayed to God hour after hour, so that he would again take her back to her happy world. But all in vain, it seemed God didn’t listen. Being a small and immature girl, she couldn’t bear the stress which this activity was giving her.

At last, she found that her ride had ended. The river had brought her to a place where it (river) itself had dried up. This was a desert. Shirley, unable to understand anything, stood up and decided to explore the place. To her utter disguise, the place was the same everywhere. There were vast stretches of sand and cacti. There was no river, no trees. She felt sad and depressed. She understood that there was no way going back, there was no return.

All this emerged as a loud melancholic scream from her mouth.

This woke her up. She was horrified and out of senses. But what she saw gave her back her lost happiness. She was in her world surrounded by her friends. She was on her straw bed. Lo! It had been a weird dream, j-us-t a dream!!!

She was glad to be back. She was happy, enthusiastic, ecstatic and zealous. She now knew what it meant “to possess”. She had regained all her lovely possessions - her dream world and her best friends.

She would always remember her rendezvous with the river and would always think twice before making a decision.

Shirley was lucky indeed as whatever nightmares she experienced were none other than a dream. ‘She had a return.’

But this doesn’t happen to our lives. We don’t live in dreams but the violent river ride is a sort of reality for us. Though we regret our deeds but there is no way back. We are trapped in time traps. We are still there in the desert waiting for the river to re-appear again so that we can get back to our innocent dream world.

“BUT ITS TOO LATE, TOO LATE….. THIS LAST SENTENCE APPEARS SECOND AFTER SECOND IN OUR HELPLESS MINDS.

….

BUT WE WILL WAIT, WAIT, WAIT N EVENTUALLY DIE…..BUT WITH A HOPE OF RETURNING BACK SOMEDAY………”

They say we have ears. We have a heart as well.

2010-10-14T02:18:00.000-07:00

I don't know where to begin from. I am too embarrassed to introduce myself because for the world, I have no existence, but I want to make my presence felt. After being in silence for so many years, I finally choose to open my mouth, and express my heart out. Yes, I have a heart - my other body part apart from ears!

To begin with my introduction, I am a Wall. Yes, don't be astonished! What you read is very true. I warmly welcome you all to the world of walls - Mute observers!

The day I was born was rather a unique one. I saw many others like me; all around and soon all of us became great friends. I had my best friend 6 walls apart from me. Since we all were small then it was very easy for us to converse. But then as time past by, we both grew up, and so the 6 walls in between us. The last day I saw my best friend was years back. The 6 others concealed him from me. Though we were so close but the distance seemed to extend to infinity. *Sigh!* How I miss him. But well, I won't take you away from the topic. So, lets begin it with a bit of nostalgia! :-)

I felt so excited when I got my first brick and a lump of cement. I was a proud child then! I felt on the top of the world. I made progress earlier than other and soon I stood tall, bestowing of my strong and immaculate body! Soon two others joined me and one came right opposite to me to make a form which they call a room! Well, it was a nice room near a neem tree. But I was a bit disappointed!They had dug a window inside me! *Duh!* My body once strong, was now weak and I felt the pain right inside me. Anger seeped inside and I decided to thrash the person who would come to live in that room! What an imagination!

Finally they painted us all in white and the wall opposite to me got painted in orange with a beautiful texture. Oh man! how to tell what I felt for her. Her beauty captured my mind and I kept staring at her all the time. Her sight was a treasure for my eyes. And hence I hated darkness! I fell in love with her. I so wanted to tell her. But as you all know we walls, are blessed only with ears and a heart. We don't have a mouth to express what we feel. And that's why I was standing so close to her, yet so helpless. I accepted this as my destiny. But with each passing day the intensity of love increased between us!

Finally one fine morning, the room was all cleaned up and from the belongings, it was clear that a girl was about to live there. I so hated her right from that moment to have made me just opposite the wall whom I loved. With an ill feeling in my heart, I went to sleep. Suddenly there was a knock and the door opened slowly. Yes, the girl had arrived. The moment I saw her, I let out a deep *sigh*. She was so calm and not like the one I had imagined. I developed an instant affection with her which continued to grow everyday. THe best part was that she understood my feelings for the opposite wall. Many a times she would touch my love and then return back to me with an affectionate smile. I reciprocated it and then she hugged me. This was our daily business. We had become great friends and could fully understand each other. Every morning she opened the window cautiously so as not to hurt me. And protected her from every fury. I stood strong against the natural forces, thereby concealing my lovely friend in my arms.

I somehow felt alive again. I regained my strength. I could feel the happiness lingering around. I could feel my passionate fire being fueled by the girl! Now, I couldn't imagine my existence without the girl. I needed her so bad! To be frank, I started loving her secretly! Nothing was pre-planned, it was a mere matching of the frequency. I felt myself lucky. I loved her aroma and my favourite activity was watching her sleep. It was so peaceful and serene to my eyes! Oh yes! I forgot to mention that all walls have got eyes too! Actually we walls are forced to live such a secluded life that we forget what all we have! ROTFL!!! :-P :-P

Then one fine day, the girl disappeared. I waited and waited and waited, my eyes fixed to the horizon, but there was no sign of her. Depression started to build and hallucinations made me visualize her coming to me. As soon as I used to open my arms, all would vanish, and there I was again staring blankly at the horizon. I grew tired of waiting for her. I missed her much. Her absence started eating me up from within and I again lost my strength. Cracks began to develop in me further increasing my chances to collapse anytime. Oh! How to tell how my eyes yearned for a last sight of her so that I could die peacefully. But the wait seemed to extend to infinity. I felt alone. The room lost its charm. Cobwebs started to appear. Not a single human appeared in there even once. I could see the dusty belongings of the girl. What seemed so full of energy then, lay lifeless now. Even I got dis-interested from the opposite wall to which I was once in my life was infatuated to!

One in between, a cleaner entered the room and she began to perform her job mercilessly thereby throwing things here and there in a ruthless manner. I so wanted to prevent all this, but I was helpless. At that moment I cursed God for not giving me legs! I cried my heart out. If I would have had a mouth I would have definitely said - *I need you girl. Life is so gloomy without you. Please come soon so that I can atleast die in peace.*
But this wasn't to happen ever. Finally, totally exhausted, I closed my eyes and went back to my state of deep slumber. :'(

I don't exactly remember as to how my days I slept, but one evening I woke with a start. My 6th sense was conveying me something. I couldn't make it out. I was confused. Amidst all this chaos, the door opened slowly, the way it used to open in those good old days. I saw a figure sneak it and turn on the light Goodnes!!! Only if I had legs I would have jumped out of excitement! It was the girl. She was back. I couldn't believe my eyes. I wanted a proof. It was then when she came near and touched me, I broke down. I began to cry hard. Oh! How much I had dreamt and yearned for this moment to arrive in my life. And finally, it was there! I felt happiness gushing in from all th sides. The pretty lady had turned more beautiful and sensitive and this made me fall in love with her double hard the second time! Duh! It was a mutual feeling.

Soon after her arrival, I gained strength and became my normal self all over again. Though I had grown old, but the enthusiasm took a re-birth in me. I was loving all this.

But this happiness was short-lived. The girl vanished again forcing me to introspect. But this time I waited for her full of hope. It wasn't long before when she returned again. And this continued - her vanishing and re-appearing act! And in a way I have started looking forward to her such pranks. Because they make me alive all over again, they sometimes make me angry and sometimes happy. They make me wonder at times of my behavior. But the most important part is that they make me strong.

The girl taught me how to deal pain in life. She taught me how to love and sacrifice one self for a cause. She made my emotions come out of me. She showed me the magic. She made me aware of the essence of life.

Well, now too the girl is away. And since I got some free time so I thought I would express my feelings. Ok, bye now, I again go back to my state of slumber. I prefer to wait for the moment my life returns to me rather than lament over the loneliness. *Come soon girl*

AND THEY SAY WE CAN ONLY HEAR, WE DO HAVE A HEART AS WELL...

A night of memories!

2010-10-13T16:13:00.000-07:00

It was a very tiring day. First the hopelessness of the railways and then hot sun, in the end I felt like a dead body. Got the irony here! Yes, in my world a dead body too feels!

After the afternoon siesta, I woke up and started growling on everybody. Well, that was an apt decision to keep my mind functional. Duh!

Late evening saw me in the kitchen cooking food, but the same monotonous song reached my ears.

Then, after we all had finished our business, I actually woke up from my state of helplessness. I wanted a ride then, in the dead of night! I so wanted to go on a long drive, with music on...*sigh*...but the cold attitude of the people around me made dream bubble thwart instantaneously. But you know, I am a destiny's child and hence, finally I succeeded!

00:00 hrs sharp, I was in my scorpio, cruising at 110 kmph and nickelback on! I was driving like a crazy beast - the excitement was taking its toll. Aai(mother) and mama who had joined me in for a company, became furious and it was then when life returned to a normal pace of 70 kmph.

Finally the beauty glided gracefully and entered the jungle roads. The moment the fresh scent reached my nostrils, I knew I was in my land. I so had missed all this since long before. Adrenaline secretion reached its peak and serenity started seeping in! Irony again!

Finally my dear scorpio landed gracefully near a beautiful dam after this fanciful flight. We took the stairs and went to the top. All was peaceful. There were two jungle curs around who instantly became my friends. I could hear a distant prowl of an animal as was clear due to the faint rustle of leaves. A chill made its way through my spine and I revived my lost self instantaneously.

We all sat there. Not letting out a single word but still talking; not to each other but the free spirits present around. I was enjoying every bit of that moment. I could see the sky studded with so many stars. The faint white band of *OUR MILKY WAY* galaxy made me proud.

I started walking along the bank and my two friends followed me. The melodious lap of the water against the rocks came in as a rhythm. A cool breeze started blowing and I started getting goose bumps. The surroundings seemed to welcome me with full enthusiasm! Myself and my two friends finally settled down at a spot which was facing the rest house. Ah! the rest house, and a thousand memories associated with it came out! I could see myself and my little brother playing in the verandah and occasionally fighting for either the ball or the food. I could see the elders sitting on chairs arranged in a circle, all smiling and engrossed in their talks. Each soul was enjoying his way. The innocent smile on my face made me flat. The small girl(me) there didn't know that she(me) would be watching herself after a long time...

SUDDENLY, a loud growl brought me back to reality and shook me from within. The cur had seen a carnivore nearby and as a sign was howling loud. It came closer to me with a shivering body. From the familiar sounds nearby, I could make out that it was a leopard. And this reminded me of Def Leppard and his song *have you ever needed someone so bad*. Yes, I badly needed my mama and aai that time. But it was damn exciting. The sound died away after about five minutes and we settled back.

That very moment I fell in love with someone invisible but still around. It was an instant connection. I so wanted to hold *mr. invisible's* hand and take a long walk along the bank, deep in the heart of jungles. Without thinking I just closed my eyes and extended my hand in the open.

Man! I felt a touch, a real human touch. And I was well aware of the fact that I was the only human present there at that point of time. I was instantly drenched in cold sweat right from head to toe. It scared the hell out of me. I was too out of my senses to open my eyes. All spooky thoughts and figures started dancing in my mind. The invisible force now held my hand even tighter and was approaching towards me as I could make out from the breath. I so wanted to yell, in the highest pitch but fear kept me away from even opening up my mouth. I was about to cry when a familiar sound reached my ears and made me relax. DUH! it was my mother! She was holding my hand (she had secretly followed me :P).

Sweet Jesus! I made a fool of myself! But then it was a scary experience indeed! :P :P

Finally we went atop a hillock from where we could see and feel the force of thousands of gallons of deep, dark, secret and mysterious water. I took out the mugs and we enjoyed the hot steaming tea. Divine experience. A distant call from a barking deer and the bellow of a sambhar deer informed us that the king of the jungle, the tiger, was on a killing mission.

I had enjoyed all this after months. Spending time like this, in the heart of the dark woods was always my favourite activity during the childhood days. I felt like returning back to the sweet innocent days once again, when life was like a gurgling brook down the mountain slopes, twisting and turning without any worry, just making its way to its destination!

THOSE WERE THE DAYS!
:-)
*cheers*

मालगुडी

2010-09-22T03:27:00.000-07:00

मैं हूँ मालगुडी |

दक्षिण भारत का एक छोटा सा शहर |

फिर भी, मैं कोई भी शहर हो सकता हूँ, कहीं भी, क्योकि मेरा सत्य जगतव्यापी है |

मेरी सूनी गलियों में देखिये और आप तरह-तरह के लोग देखेंगे - भिखारी, नौकर, मालिक - और उनकी दुनिया |

किसी ख़ास पल में खोए हुए लोग, अपने जीवन के लिए संघर्ष करते हुए लोग या परिस्थिति में फसे हुए लोग |

वो या तो उसका फैसला करते हैं या उसके साथ जीते हैं |

बहादुर और डरपोक ; अमीर और गरीब, वो भी प्यार करते हैं, पूजा करते हैं, धोखा देते हैं, उम्मीदें रखते हैं और सपने सजाते हैं |

अपनी-अपनी दास्तान वे ही सबसे अच्छे तरह सुनते है |

A letter to the Author!!! :-)

2010-09-12T07:48:00.000-07:00

Respected AuthorHOP

Hope this one finds you in best of your health (this is just a formal beginning to this letter) :P

I woke up today and rushed to my laptop to check the status update of 'Horn Ok Please'. To be frank, I had completely forgotten that you had already finished the book. As soon as I opened my account, I saw nothing new there. And that was when I realized that all was actually over. For a moment I felt shocked, but then reality started seeping inside and brought me back to earth. I just sat on my chair, staring at the blank screen. And suddenly, memories from past began to conjure themselves on the screen!!!

A flashback, past moments started sprouting in my mind. And consequently, I was back in time - to the very first day when I clicked the button *like* below the caption of *Horn Ok Please*, no sugar, no milk...just humor! My major exams were going on that time and out of boredom I decided to spend some time on facebook.

Once I liked the page, its updates started coming and your responses to all other people made it all look completely different. It aroused my interest and I became a part of the discussion soon! My vacations started and I went home.

To me, you seemed a very great personality. And I hesitated for a moment on the thought of sending you my blog address. I firmly believed that you wouldn't read it as you wouldn't want to waste your time and maybe there would be many fans of yours who would be regularly disturbing you with these kind of messages. But finally, I made up my mind and sent you the link without worrying of the consequences. And I was literally shocked on reading your reply about actually reading it. I was on cloud # 9 then. Yipppeeee....I thought and raced through the entire house and my parent's hospital to tell them that you read my blog and appreciated it! I felt honored.

***[[[PS - Chief, this is going to be actually long, as I am expressing myself fully here, so if you find it boring, kindly stop here, because the intensity of boredom is further going to increase in the following paragraphs]]]***

All this continued and then you put my link on HOP fan page. To be frank, that was the most precious moment of my life because none of the humans had actually appreciated me like that. It brought tears to my eyes, and made me immensely happy.

The world seemed different from cloud # 9. But I didn't know that a higher cloud was waiting for me. Then, one day you talked to me on phone, and the moment arrived. I was on cloud # 69! Whoa!!! At that point of time, life seemed perfect and full of happiness.

Right after that moment, my body compositions changed. My DNA underwent a mutation to change me from a human being to a HOPper and HOP started flowing in my veins and most astonishing was that it happened with other bunch of people too and hence I was welcomed in my new family! HOP became an intergral part of my life.

The day your road trip started, excitement started building in my heart and enthusiasm started overflowing. I was looking forward with all my soul to meet you and Rohit in Delhi. Though I was quite unsure of that but my mind forced me to give it a try. And finally you reached Delhi!!! Yayy....I thought.

I was too frightened to meet you people and the Delhi hoppers because I felt that I lacked your sophisticated level to fit in that group. But, I didn't let the fear take charge of me and with full spirit I went on. When I first saw you both sitting and chatting with others in your black t-shirts, I went blank. But then happiness started gushing in and I just ran to meet you both. That was a magical moment and I still remember flooding excitement! I enjoyed each and every moment with you all. And to be frank, I got a very good friend in Smita. She is so nice! And I loved Rita's attitude.

After this rendezvous, my life took a complete 90 degree turn. I felt confidence inside me. And all my pre-conceived notions about you both were thwarted. Your simple nature and crystal clear behaviour made me a die hard fan of you. And the way you respect a person for whatever skills he/she has, is simply fantastic. My bond with HOP further strengthened that day and it acquired a permanence in its character and got associated to eternity.

It grew stronger day by day and I got to know you better. Your dedication towards your aim inspired me and fuelled my fire each time your voice reached my Eustachian tube.

***[[[I know what I am typing next would seem philosophical to you but I actually experienced that in my life.]]]***

I got to know myself and my actual thoughts better. I got a glimpse of *life* first time in my life. I was shocked to feel the immense happiness. A radiance developed within me and it enlightened my entire soul. I stepped on a totally untouched path and the journey ahead seemed fantastic. You actually ingrained a lot of positive spirit in me. I was loving all this.

And now too, the one and only aim in my life is to help the children lead a decent life where they can fulfill their dreams, and forever shall it be. I have dedicated my life to social cause, and I a going to keep my word for sure - penchant.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now would come out a mixed set of emotions from me because all that happened next was a dream. I never thought about it even once! And I really don't want to think about it. They are all intact and would be preserved in my memory and heart for all times to come, without any alteration.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I always consider rains to be special to me and that evening too it was raining. I was excited to meet you and Rohit after so many days. I quickly rushed to the nearest florist and searched for two beautiful bouquets for two wonderful people. Damn! I was late and the last bunch left were a set of orange and pink chrysanthemums. Duh! I wanted the flowers to be more colourful. But finally I asked him to use those flowers. And in between all this, a thought took birth inside my mind - THE WORD FLOWER IS ASSOCIATED WITH SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL AND INNOCENT. ROSE IS NOT THE ONLY FLOWER. AND IT IS TOTALLY INAPPROPRIATE TO THINK THAT ONLY A SPECIFIC VARIETY BRINGS HAPPINESS. Phew! I was finally convinced with this thought and rushed back to my hostel. When you finally arrived, I was drunk; totally; with the liquor named 'happiness'.
And was finding it difficult to walk. LOLZ

That evening with you people was mesmerizing and nostalgic. Everything is fresh even now and I just let out a long *Sigh* on remembering the karaoke. You sang your heart out that day, we all really enjoyed your singing.

I just love your attitude towards life. It has taught me to become successful and firm in life. I salute you.

Well, as time flew past, you were seen on your road towards your aim. Your description of all the succeeding events made us all experience the same emotions you were experiencing. We all actually felt on a virtual trip with you. We felt a jolt inside when you described the situation of Leh and that made us to quickly help the people there and I salute some HOPpers for their prompt action. (well, my parents wanted to sponsor too, could you please send some details, or they would forget again, and I don't want this to happen because I put in lot of efforts to make them react positively to the situation ).
We were happy on learning that you enjoyed your day with the kids. I felt all the HOPpers had a mental connection with you.

And then one fine day, you announced that you had completed your book. God! I was so happy then. But then again the word complete gave rise to another word 'incomplete' in my mind.

And with this, I regained my senses and was sad to find the same blank screen before me!

Well, chief you have influenced our lives so much that you are an integral part of it now. It seems incomplete without you both. You blessed every life you came across on your way. And I feel honored to be one of those lives! The journey for you might have ended here and a new journey with a new book awaits you. But as far as we all are concerned, its a beginning for all of us, a fresh start to convert the nation to INDIA 2.0 and live the life our own way. And I have learnt to dream in life and then convert it into reality. And the journey has your presence in our lives and that assures us of the success.

You are a very nice person. And please don't ever change. Persons like you take birth once in a lifetime!!! We all are with you and hope we make our INDIA 2.0 soon with all our efforts. We all are in this *together*.

Your beautiful heart makes wonders happen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lastly, if anywhere in the above text, my writing hurt you or it went wrong, I apologize for it, right from the bottom of my heart.

Regards

~A HOPper.
\m/
:-)

Don't be indifferent, come forward and HELP!!!

2010-08-24T09:37:00.000-07:00

I don't have any money of my own. Crap!!!

But you all who are earning do have money in your hand.

I read more about Leh victim$ in the new$paepr and $aw the new$ on televi$ion.

I am re$tle$$. I want to earn lot$ of money and give to them. But I have none!!! I feel helple$$.

Plea$e help them. I don't know how to write in a $ophi$ticated manner at thi$ moment. My heart crie$.

We all have a comfortable life of our own. We have $o many a$$et$ and we are in $afe zone. Metro citie$, glamour, cafe, bar...we have $o many $ource$ of entertainment. But they have none.

When they look at the TV camera with tho$e eye$ - full of innocence and hope - I ju$t want to run away to them. I want to help them. I want to make them $mile. I want to make them happy. I want them to enjoy their life and $how them love through my eye$.

I feel pity on my$elf for I can't change the ideology of the general ma$$. I di$cu$$ed the matter with my parent$ today with heart full of hope, for I know they have MONEY. But like everyone el$e, they too overlooked the matter. They think that a $ingle per$on can't bring enough change or rather he i$ incapable of bringing any change!!!

I feel like crying. I have been trying to $tudy and concentrate but the horrific picture$ of de$truction keep coming in my mind. I want to be with tho$e innocent mind$ and help them overcome tho$e nightmare$.

I pity my$elf for having to live in a $elf centric $ociety. All have the $ame *general ma$$* ideology.

Dear all, if you don't enjoy ju$t an evening out with your friend$, it would hardly matter to you, but believe me it would make a hell and heaven difference in the live$ of the kid$ at Leh if you $pend that money for their cau$e. They have no one whom they can entirely call their$. They have lo$t everything.

I $tudy in IIT Delhi and $ometime$ don't make full u$e of the $ituation to $tudy and do $ome creative activity. Often I cur$e my$elf for landing up here and I hate $tudying.

But today I feel $hame on my$elf. I have been able to reach where I am becau$e of the re$ource$ which my parent$ provided me. I can boa$t of my po$ition, I can feel proud, I can $how my arrogance only on ba$i$ of tho$e re$ource$ which were damn crucial.

When I think of the homele$$ kid$ there, I $hiver. Many of them there mu$t be having ro$y future dream$ - doctor, engineer, $cienti$t, bureaucrat and what not. But their dream$ have been captured by the cruel hand$ of de$tiny.

I AM DE$PERATE TO MAKE YOU ALL UNDER$TAND THE VALUE OF YOUR $UPPORT TO THEM. WITH YOUR CHEERING, THEY CAN AGAIN KNIT THEIR BEAUTIFUL DREAMS IN THEIR FUTURE CARDIGAN.

THEY HAVE DONE NOTHING WRONG AND IT I$ AB$OLUTELY INHUMANE TO LET THEM BEAR THE CON$EQUENCE$ OF THE FURY ALONE. LET U$ COME TOGETHER AND DO WHATEVER LITTLE WE CAN DO FOR THEM.

ADOPT THE KID$ THERE, $PON$OR THEIR EDUCATION AND GIFT THEM *DECENT LIFE*. BELIEVE ME YOU WOULD GET IMMEN$E PLEA$URE AFTER WATCHING THE $WEET $MILE$ APPEAR ON THEIR DIVINE FACE$.

PLEA$E!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DO WHATEVER YOU CAN AND MAKE A DIFFERENCE.

*$ALUTE TO THO$E WHO ARE WORKING FOR THE CAU$E*->

<<<<<<*KARTIK, ROHIT, NIK, NAYAN, CHITRA AND SUBARNA*>>>>>>