Pakodas, the Chai and the Rains

             Bhanu, the chai wala whose small canteen is open in the suburbs of the busy city, is very busy with his calculator. He looks sullen today of all days. “It’s raining Bhanu, cheer up”, one college student teases him while paying at the counter. Bhanu gives him a nonchalant look and acknowledges the younger man with a half-smile. Bhanu’s canteen is surrounded with colleges, tuition centers, office buildings and is placed at the center of a busy market area. His canteen is also clean and cheaper than the nearby KFC, Pizza Hut, McDonalds, etc. So, naturally Bhanu and his canteen are very popular with nearby college students, office goers and school going teenagers. Bhanu is also doing well in his business. Still Bhanu seems distant always. But his catering boys are so sweet and smiling that you can forget about the owner. Bhanu might be paying them well. 

            Forget about Bhanu though. Rain Gods are playing havoc. It’s chilly and Bhanu’s hot pakodas and chai are a welcome treat for any rain lover. And trust me, the place is hustling bustling with orders and guests this evening too.

            Six school going teenagers are at the table nearby the exit door. They are busy talking about some physics assignment. Waiter Rony brings them their order and is about to go back to the kitchen. Arun, one of the boys shouts, “Rony Bhaiya, how could you forget the mint chutney?” Rony smiles back and yells, “ला रहा हूँ यार (bringing that buddy)”.  Vivek barks at Arun, “You are thinking about Chutney now. Concentrate on the assignment; we have to submit it tomorrow morning”. Kabir and Danny also urge Arun to concentrate. The two girls, Radha and Shweta sitting with them are busy making some charts and look at Arun disgustingly.

            Kavita and her boyfriend Vishal are quarreling at the table towards the corner from last one hour. They have finished their tea and pakodas. It seems Vishal is not happy with some outstation assignment Kavita has got and she will have to move to Hyderabad for five months. Vishal asks her to reject the opportunity as his mother may visit him next month and he wants that Kavita meets his mother this time. Amit, the waiter who was attending them, comes to them and asks them politely, “Sir, और कुछ चाहिये (do you want anything else)”? Vishal confirms that they want nothing else and continues quarreling with Kavita. Amit clears his throat and tries again, “Sir, other people are waiting”. Kavita turns towards him and says, “देख भाई, हम यहाँ रोज आते हैं (we come here daily)”. Amit replies, “Yes Ma’am, you come here daily but there are lots of guests today and many are waiting for a vacant seat”. On that, Kavita and Vishal vacate the seat grudgingly. Amit seems relieved, but he is surely not getting any tip from them though.

            Azhar and Zoya are sitting at the table towards the other corner of the canteen. They got engaged recently and seem happy. They are pleased about everything around them. Rony goes to attend the lovey-dovey couple and is waiting for the couple to decide on the menu. Zoya asks, “आज बैंगन पकोड़े try करते हैं (let’s try deep fried eggplant fritters today)”. To that Azhar, replies, “No Darling, I am allergic to Eggplant”. Zoya exclaims, “Oh really? I never knew that". Azhar asks, “Let’s order आलू के पकोड़े (fritters made with potatoes)”. Zoya replies with a big no.  Rony patiently listens to their chit chat with a smile on his face. Finally, they come to a decision to order Gobhi pakodas (deep fried fritters of cauliflower florets).  Rony takes their order and heads towards the kitchen again.

            A big noisy college group is seated in middle of the room at the big table with ten chairs. However, there are more than ten people it seems and orders are coming from the group every ten to fifteen minutes. Ramesh is attending them and these people have kept him on his toes since they had walked in. Every ten minutes he can hear his name being called, “Ramesh Bhaiya?” It is someone’s birthday in the group today and all other youngsters are looting the host’s pocket money for sure. No sooner than Ramesh comes with the tray laden with different types of fritters and tea, the young very hungry group finishes everything in a jiffy and is ready to place their next orders.

            Next to the noisy group, two very busy professionals are seated with their laptops blinking and every now and then their mobile phones ring and they talk business. They are super restless; they want their orders as soon as possible. Kareem, their waiter has been called two or three times already to be asked when was he going to serve them within the last ten minutes. Kareem tells them it is getting ready with his ever smiling face. And the two gentlemen ask him every time to bring the order faster. Finally in fifteen minutes, their order is ready and Kareem serves them. The two gentlemen, however, are in no hurry to finish their order and leave the place.

            Near the counter to the left, this old couple, Mr. and Mrs. Murthy, is seated. They are sipping their sugar free cups of hot tea and are remembering the good old days when this canteen was run by Bhanu’s father and it was so less noisy. They wish those good days to return and this tea should not cost 30 damn rupees now. It used to cost only Rs.2 per cup those days. But they are regulars here and they always place their orders at the counter to Bhanu. Bhanu makes sure that they are seated near the counter and their orders are served with utmost care.

            To the right of the counter, a group of five friends are enjoying their cups of tea and mirchi pakodas (fried fritters of green chillies). They are busy in their idle chit chat when another of their friend enters the canteen and shouts at them, “वो मान गई यार (she has said yes)”. And then the other five cheers him and calls out in unison, “Party!!!” They start whistling and the friend who has just entered the room smiles from ear to ear.

            The place occupied by Kavita and Vishal a few minutes ago is now taken over by Pari and her mother. Pari is a sweet engineering student who is attending her final year. She is a bright student and is known to be a topper at her college. Amit takes their order of two cups of lemon tea without sugar and one portion each of gobhi and palak pakodas (deep fried fritters of cauliflower florets and spinach leaves). Pari’s mother is as usual obsessed with her ever increasing waist line. But even she cannot resist the temptation of fried fritters at Bhanu’s. She makes a special request to Amit to bring more tissue papers so that she can wipe off the oil from the pakodas before gobbling them. That is not the only worry in the world she has. She worries more for her daughter’s studies. She is asking Pari to get at least 90% this time in her final semester of engineering. Pari rectifies her mother once more that nowadays it is not percentage, it is CGPA. Then her mother asks her to get ‘A’ grade in every subject. Pari agrees because she knows she can never win this ever going battle.

            One more table, table No.8, is placed at the farthest corner of the room where this gentleman is seated with his family of four, his wife, one naughty little boy and another sweet toothless toddler and himself. His wife keeps scolding the little boy, “Ravi, do not touch the glasses, थप्पड़ पड़ेगा वर्ना (you will get a slap otherwise)”, or, “Ravi, चम्मच को रखो जगह पे (keep the spoon at its place or else I will beat you)”. Kareem goes to their table and asks what they would like to order. The gentleman asks Kareem if the canteen serves any non-veg food. When Kareem informs that this place only serves pakodas and chai, the gentleman asks again if they serve any non-veg pakodas made with chicken or fish. When Kareem ensures that they serve only veg items, the gentleman presses again and tells Kareem that he wants to be doubly sure that he is not served any non-veg food or something which might be cooked near any non-veg item. Kareem confirms that they do not even use eggs in their kitchen. So this gentleman places his order for two portions of Onion fritters and two cups of ginger tea. Kareem smiles and heads towards the kitchen.

            Near the hot furnace inside the kitchen, the two helper boys Raju and Mannu are waiting for the busy evening to end. Raju is busy preparing the batter for the fritters with gram flour and also cutting the vegetables at the same time. Mannu is preparing the tea and is busy hovering over the hot kettles of milk and brewing tea leaves. Sarju uncle, wiping his forehead, is supervising the two boys and is busy arranging the orders the waiters have brought in. Kareem walks into the kitchen with the order of table No. 8 and says, “चाचा लो एक और order (uncle, take one more order)”. Sarju notes down the order and the table number. Kareem asks the boys, “आज तो बारिश हो रही है, कैसे जाओगे घर (it’s raining today, how will you go home)”? Raju and Mannu give him a forlorn look. Sarju scolds Kareem, “मेरे लड़कों को तंग मत कर, जा अपना काम कर (don’t tease my boys, go do your own work)”. Kareem leaves with a smile.

            Bhanu, looks at the grandfather clock hanging in the wall and finds that it is now eight in the evening. In another one hour, he will have to close the canteen. He has to reach the bedside of his ailing wife. He is worried that he might get delayed in the traffic due to the rains. He is afraid that she might go before he reaches the hospital. She was not looking too good when he left her for work today morning. He truly hopes that he is near her when she breathes her last.

One Half Family

I was overwhelmed to see the tiny feet, tiny toes, small hands and the pink face. It brought tears to my eyes when all her tiny fingers grabbed my finger and held on tightly. Yes my daughter is born. Her father picked her up and I saw pride in his eyes. For the first time in his life, he has picked up a child. I was filled with mixed emotions remembering my dad who is no more. I was the apple of my father’s eyes, and I have no doubt about it that my daughter will be apple of my husband’s eyes.

                My daughter is also born into the same society where daughters are brought up with utmost love, respect and care. She is the doll, the princess and the Goddess too. The lullaby is sung by her father, with a dream that when she grows up, she will be married to a prince and she will be treated with love and respect at her in-laws place. Once she gets married, things might change though.  It will be her duty to respect her husband’s family; however, she might not get the respect in return. Her parents will be insulted in many occasions but she will have to keep mum. And, sad but it’s true that she will be treated as an outsider always.

                We live in a modern, techno-savvy, educated society, where both the sexes are equal they say. There are equal opportunities for both. We have crossed that era where men used to be the breadwinner of the family. They say it is not sufficient with one income nowadays. Both husband and wife are supposed to earn, bring up and educate their children together, build a house, and so on. But it will always be our son’s house, our son’s car, and our son’s child. It will never be our daughter in-law’s car or house. One more irony is there, when daughter in-law is sweeping, mopping, and decorating their son’s house, they say, “it’s her house anyways so what is the big deal if she is doing all these”?  Yes, of course and the funniest is that the child was borne solely by their son.

                If the couple does not have a child, it is all daughter in-law’s fault. In that case, the daughter in-law is either getting older, has some problems or not family oriented and more of a career woman, etc. But whatever daughter in-law earns, that is their right. She is supposed to buy expensive gifts or give it all to her mother in-law, brother in-law or sister in-law. If she gives a gift to her own sister, that is extravagance and is to be talked about for all the years to come.  If she buys an expensive smartphone for herself, they say she is spendthrift but for their son it is required for his official work. 

                Hypocrisy is thy name. When a daughter comes to touch your feet you say, “Our daughters need not touch our feet”. But a daughter in-law is supposed to do that. So, when you don’t consider your daughter in-law as your own child, why do you expect her to treat you as her own mother or father? Appreciate her when she is looking after your grandchild, she is decorating your son’s house, or she is cooking your son’s favorite meal rather than telling her how your son loves your cooking or how much your grandchild resembles you and your son. Tell her sometime that the child also looks like her. Appreciate someday that she has kept your son happy all these years rather than pointing it out to your son about her failures.

                This family is neither complete nor equal. On her shoulder all the responsibilities should befall, she has to earn money, she has to pay the bills and take care of the groceries, she has to take care of the family, and she should love and respect every member of the family. But nobody would care about her self-respect, dignity and above all her due space and peace of mind. So, I ask you where the equality is. When their son wants to come out and build his own identity somewhere else, she would be blamed always for their son to leave the parental house. She would be judged for every action of hers. My dear daughter, I wish you do not have to undergo this kind of turmoil in your life.

                So for now, the half family lives on without any apprehension; the other half is never accepted in the family anyways.

Those were the best days of my life....

Well, you must have heard that famous song of Bryan Adams, but I am not going to talk about that song. Legends and their work should be better left out to the critics, and I am a huge (do not think about sizes, please) fan of Bryan Adams, so nothing can go wrong with his work. Coming to my subject now, “those were the best days of my life”, truly speaking I am unable to decide which my best days are, when I was in school, or when I was in college, or now when I am working. Or maybe, my courtship days were best, but I am happily married, too. I honestly love that day of the month when salary gets credited to my bank account. I love Saturdays and Sundays, too and I wish that after every Sunday, Friday should come instead of a Monday. I guess it is the same with every other man or woman.

It was Valentines Day on 14^th February. The red rose bud which I had bought one week earlier for five bucks was sold for 20 bucks that very day. I guess it was really not fair for those lovebirds. Please don’t say that everything is fair in love and war. Think about those poor guys/girls who have more than one or two girl/boy friends. And please don’t scratch your brains asking why I was buying red roses that day. It was for my flower vase, honestly. And I bought carnations and gladiolas too. Seeing those school going teenager kids exchanging the red roses left me with a feel of nostalgia. I remembered my school uniform suddenly. All prim and proper with that knee-length skirt and extra white shirt and shining black shoes and white socks. I do not know why of all things I just had to remember only my school uniform. Anyways, funny little thing is our mind that can go any direction it wishes to and at any time.

I know I am drifting away from my subject. But I was going to tell you about an incident of my school time. I was not a teenager then, however, but I was in first standard as far as I can remember. I was with Meenakshi, that childhood friend of mine with whom I had done the most mischief of my life. We were playing near the gate of my house and there was a drainage system nearby and we could see the green moss, looking like a bed of grass. Suddenly, we thought of jumping across the green moss. At first I was not inclined to do so, but she made me live that song ‘Ye dosti hum nahi todenge’ from the movie Sholay. And we fell into that dirty, filthy drain of water. And to our horror, in that particular moment our mothers came outside and witnessed our intentional fall into that pool of water. They didn't shout at us nor even scolded us, however, but surprising thing was that they didn't say anything; they just helped us out, ordered us to change our respective uniforms and wash ourselves. We both went to each other’s houses, we were neighbors too, washed ourselves and got changed into something fresh and came back outside. Our mothers were still talking to each other. They saw us and her mother asked where we get these ideas from. Our mothers were actually very angry about our little fiasco. We knew that and kept quiet. Her mother asked again, with much anger she could possess this time, “I know who the troublemaker between you two is. You are getting naughtier each day. Meenakshi, tell me, where do you get this kind of energy from?” And out came the reply “Boost is the secret of my energy” and I said “Our Energy”. Well, we were saved however from the wrath of our respective fathers but we were made to wash our respective uniforms that day.

Once, in school, history class was going on. Our teacher was teaching a crucial part of Indian History, the 1857 war. I was however, a bright student, but I could be a trouble maker also at times. This time I was engrossed in talking with one of my friends. Suddenly, my poor teacher’s question reaches me,” Nabanita, how was the war of 1857?” I replied, “Terrible”, instead of saying it was a sepoy mutiny. Since, I was into his good books, he just laughed. During my post graduation days, we used to have a professor, on whose eyes female students doing post graduation were wastes. In his opinion, we women are from some planet where engineering post graduation is next to impossible for us. I don’t know why he was so much against us. Once he had given an assignment to the class and had asked us to do some research on some topic and present in the class. I was the only female student in that class of that premiere institution and it was just our first semester. After I presented my research, I had seen a peculiar kind of expression on his face; he stood up from his chair and gave me a standing ovation. I was quite surprised on his unusual kind of behavior. Maybe, all my juniors who are girls should be thanking me for his change of heart. I remember the convocation day, when he had personally walked to me to congratulate as two of my research papers were published in IEEE. That had been a wonderful day of my life. 

Let’s come back to the present day. My best friend has the cutest twins in the world, one boy and one girl. She had written about one of their funny incidents the other day in Facebook, where the girl who is elder than her brother by 2 minutes bosses around her brother. One of my best friend’s acquaintances had commented and asked her to enjoy these days as these were the kids’ best days. I guess for a mother everyday of her kid will be best. I remembered when we (I and my best friend) used to boss around our own little sisters. However, her friend had also commented that since her own kid has grown of that age, she misses those earlier days. Well, it’s very human to not acknowledge what we have now but to worry or dream about the coming future or miss or regret the past. When we were school going kids, we used to think when we will reach college, we will be the enjoyable lot. When we reached college, we used to miss our schooldays and used to think when we will join the corporate world; our gloomy days will be over. And finally, we reached the corporate life we were craving for and joined the quest for money and power and realized that we are still not happy. We now crave for college days. I guess when we retire; we would miss our busy working life.

I remember the day, when my husband and I had gone on our first official date before marriage. It had rained that day and we had only one umbrella to share. One might think it was a perfect romantic day. Well, it was. But the day, when we had gone for a long drive for the first time after we got married, was equally blissful. And I can’t diminish the pleasure of that day when we had bought our first car. What do I do now? Shall I recollect all these days and write about them in one notebook and label it as My Best Days? I think, in that case, I won’t do justice to those days of mine I like sipping coffee at my office desk, and those days I am chatting with my family for long hours on phone, and those days when I meet my old friends and relive those school or college days, and what about those days when I simply enjoy my own company and listen to whatever music I like, and then how can I neglect those days when I cook something special for my husband and he relishes every bite of that and the days when we quarrel and make up. The list is actually never-ending. Every day can become a best day for me if I think. You think for yourself.

PS: I had published this write-up in Sulekha four years ago in February 2011.

While Growing up...

Do you remember what you used to do when you were a kid? The childhood days are the most endeared ones. Whom so ever I know wants to go back to his/her childhood. Imagine how wonderful it would be to relive those moments. Just remembering those mischief(s) you had been involved in with your sibling(s), brings a smile.

When I was a toddler, dad and mom used to take me to movies with them. My dad would buy me popcorn and I would sit on the stairs near my parent’s row of seats and would be munching my popcorns. As soon as I used to finish, I would go to my parents and ask them if we could go home. My dad would give me something toys to play with and I would go back to the stairs, sit and start playing. Again after sometime I would be ready to go home. My mother would then give me some candies and the series of events would repeat. They would be thinking of ideas to keep me busy so that they could watch the movie. Finally they decided not to go for movies till I grow a little.

I used to be the most lovable toddler in my neighborhood. The other kids used to like me a lot. Whenever my mom would carry me outside, the other kids would come to play with me. I used to see all other kids of the neighborhood going to school. Since I was the only one not going to school that time, I would start howling after our neighbors’ kids would leave for school. I would start showing tantrums and not-eating-anything syndrome. So my father would carry me with a small bag in his scooter for a short ride and drop me home before he used to leave for the hospital. I would be very happy and when the other kids would come back from school, I would tell them, with my funny little vocabulary those days, how I went to school that day.

My mother tells me of one incident which, however, I vaguely remember. I had not started school yet, I was on the verge of starting school. My mother used to be associated with different social working organizations. It was a children’s day and some group had organized an event for a Poem Recitation competition for children under 14 years. My mother was one of the judges. I was sitting near my mother watching the participants coming to the stage one by one and speaking on the microphone. Suddenly I realized, I had to recite a poem too. And I started troubling my mother. Seeing that, one of the organizers, just for fun, took me to the stage, announced my name, and gave me the microphone. I sang a nursery rhyme. After that everyone applauded. I was so pleased to see everyone clapping that I said I wanted to sing another. They allowed me to sing another of my rhymes and they clapped again. I was so elated and obviously, I wanted to sing another. The organizers had to lure me with chocolates and candies to end my never ending saga of nursery rhymes.

When I had first joined school, my childhood friend, Meenakshi, was also with me. We were family friends so had known each other since our birth. We saw that every other kid is weeping. When our parents left, our teacher had a difficult time trying to stop the tears of those kids. Meenakshi and I had our own plans to help our teacher. During lunch break, all our small friends were still weeping. Meenakshi and I caught hold of the kids and started hitting them. If they would cry more, we will beat them more. And our little friends were horrified to howl the next day but Meenakshi and I were called to the Principal’s office. The principal was an old person nearing his retirement. As soon as we entered his room and saw him, Meenakshi ran to him calling him grandpa. I thought he was her real grandpa, so I also ran to him calling him grandpa. After that I only remember him feeding us chocolates. I don’t remember much but my mother tells me, Meenakshi and my parents got lots of complaints against us.

I was sent to learn classical music at the same time I started my school. I remember I would be asked to practice but I would be sitting in front of the harmonium with a big pouting face. Then all of a sudden, my mother would start singing off key. Listening to her, I would start singing to correct her and that’s how my mom would trick me to practice. My dad used to drop me at the music teacher’s place every Saturday after school. That lady was old and used to wear big fat glasses; I used to call her grandma. She used to give me music lessons and I used to be peeping at the wall clock all the while. As soon as the class would be over, I used to run outside to see if my dad had returned to fetch me. If I would not see my dad waiting outside, I would start crying thinking what might happen if he forgets to pick me up today. Many a times, my music teacher’s husband would drop me home as I would not stop crying whenever my dad, being a busy doctor, was late. My parents would be so embarrassed with my dramatic fiasco. My dad would warn me not to repeat the same episode of last week before he used to drop me at her place next Saturday. I would be extra careful that day particularly not to weep even if my dad would be a little late. But I would forget that little warning again on Saturdays that would come later.

But at the same time, my dance classes were a different story altogether. I used to go to those classes with my best friend, Kavya, on Sunday mornings.  Either her father or my father would drop us and pick us up from the Dance school every week. Some days they might be late, and both of us would wait for some time. Then we would decide to head back home by foot and to everyone’s surprise, we would take the road which we used to know that our fathers do not take. We would take some twists and turns and take the roads where four wheelers could not go so as to shorten our trip. And by the time, we would reach home, search operations would have been started already. We would be scolded and would be warned not to do that again. But to our parents’ horror, we would repeat our escapade some days later. 

When my younger sister was born, I was very enthusiastic about the idea of showing her to the world. I remember whenever someone would visit to see her, my mother would carry her in her arms and show her to neighbors, visitors and family members. So, I thought you need to show her to people. That morning some friend of the family had arrived, and my mother was taking bath. I thought in her absence, I needed to show my sister to the visitor. So, I lifted her in my tiny arms with all her baby cot and blanket and stood smiling in front of the bathroom door. My mother opened the door and saw us. If she would have shouted, I guess I would have dropped her. I excitedly told my mother about the visitor and how I wanted to help my mother. My mother simply smiled and appreciated my thought and slowly took my sister from my arms. I was so proud of the fact that I could lift the baby and felt that I have grown up. Whenever I think about that day now, I get goose bumps.

When I am writing this article, I can’t stop myself sharing this incident. My sister had just started her school. We had gone to a birthday party of a one year old, who was the younger brother of one of her schoolmates. After we returned home, she started opening wardrobes after wardrobes. My mother asked her what was she looking for to which she replied she was searching for batteries because at her schoolmate’s house she had seen a doll kicking and moving his limbs so she also wanted to insert batteries into her dolls. She was so innocent and cute. And I can’t imagine that she is now married and runs a house.

I always used to tease my younger sister that we had brought her from a nearby dustbin. She used to be very upset with the idea. When she did her blood grouping test, it came out that we both sisters have the same blood group. I remember the day, when her blood group results have come. She had entered the house with my dad, and she had come running to me and had told me, “You know I came to know today that you were also brought from the same dustbin exactly four and a half years ago before I was brought home”. I understood straight away what she meant but my parents were confused and were looking baffled at our nonsense talk. 

I had been involved in many mischiefs in childhood along with my sister. However, we enjoy being mischievous even now. Actually, it was me who would involve her so that she doesn’t tell anything to mom and dad. Trust me; she was very bad in keeping secrets that time. We would plan a surprise gift for mom or dad on their birthday or anniversary and she would go to my mom and say, “Ma, do you know, what are we planning for your birthday? Well, I can’t tell you about the card we have prepared for you”.

My sister has stood by me many a times. The vice versa is also true, of course. But, the bond between siblings does come with its share of sibling rivalry, too. I realize that I used to be meaning to my younger sister some of the times. My mother would give us chocolate bars of equal sizes. I would eat some and then hide it somewhere. After my sister would finish hers, I would again start eating and tell her, mom loved me more so she had given me a bigger share and she would start crying. After some time, I would myself tell her the truth. Whenever I had to go to some of my friend’s birthday party, I would be asked to take her with me. I used to be very upset with that idea. On the way to my friend’s house, I would be walking fast thinking that if she can’t measure up to me she would go back home. But some time later she would start crying because she couldn’t walk fast and she was behind me. I would be scared that somebody might kidnap her, and I would go running back to her and cajole her so that she stops crying and finally, I would take her to my friend’s house happily.

We used to quarrel a lot, too. We will be shouting at each other and will be hitting each other. We will be asked to go to separate rooms after that and we will be asked not to speak to each other. Just after ten or fifteen minutes, both of us will silently meet when our parents are not looking and start talking and planning another mischief as if nothing had happened earlier. And mom and dad would feel they were the culprits to separate the inseparable sisters. J

During festivals or some occasions, my mother would prepare delicacies and would store them in different jars. And on Sundays when mom would be taking her nap, I would be stealing them from those jars. I would force my sister to eat even if she didn’t like so that she could not tell mom as partners in crime tend to stick together. Sometimes my mom would hide those jars but somehow we two sisters would know where to find them. We would become Sherlock Homes, and Agatha Kristie; merged into one.

Well, the list goes on and on. And time just flies. I would love to go back to those days. Thinking about those days not only makes me smile but also brings back to life the child still inside me. You could have taken my childhood away from me but you could not take the child out of me. These memories would last with me till my last breathe. And, also am ensuring that it has been documented.

The So called Educated Mass of India

A lady wearing an ultra-modern dress, sipping wine from her glass is making nonchalant conversations with her companions seating with her in a classy pub located in a posh area of Bangalore. The waiter comes with their main courses and serves one by one. Her dish had not come yet and she comments “Oh, my God, I am treated like a SC/ST, he will serve me later”.  My eyes popped out literally, it seems we live with funky gadgets in this techno savvy Modern India but our thoughts are still from Medieval Indian Society.  

I work with a private corporate IT giant of India. Once we were planning in office to go for recruitment of fresh graduates to some college. One of our HR Managers calls me one day and asks if I was available that week to go out to that college for technical interviews. When I said I was busy but could go out the next week, he tells me, “We need to hurry up, and go this week itself, otherwise, only SC/ST candidates will remain”. WHAT? I was in total shock.

We stay in an apartment where all so called educated people stay. Most of us claim of high degrees, so called double-triple post-graduations. It’s impressive, isn't it? I got acquainted with a gentleman and his wife, who were equally very impressive with their higher degrees. So, first day we meet, I politely ask them which part of India they belong to, he tells me, “We are from so and so part of India and we are BRAHMANS”. I could not understand whether he wanted me to touch his feet and pray his praises? Being born into an upper caste, these educated Indians still think themselves as privileged.

Well, I can’t forget what used to happen in my premium college, one of the best deemed Universities of India, where I had done my post-graduation in Engineering (Yes, pun intended). In a hush-hush manner, some student will point out to another student and say, “Do you know he/she is from the reserved category”? As if the other person is some criminal. Please wake up modern India, our batch’s gold medalist was from a lower caste and he is now an I.E.S officer.  And please, don’t even try to tell me that he got the gold medal because of his reservation rather than merit.

In the corporate, hi-tech world of ours, people may not practice discrimination and would show total disgrace to untouchability still prevailing in some parts of rural India. But still the talks or mannerism show their total disrespect of humanity. For example, they will make funny comments when someone is sitting alone in a canteen table away from a group like “Achhooton ki tarah kyu baithe ho (Why are you sitting like an untouchable)”?  One of my colleagues used to like a guy in office. It was obvious the guy was also interested in her. I asked her once if she wanted his number, I could arrange it for her. Her reply was equally nerve-racking for me, because she replied, “what’s the use; anyways my parents will kill me if I marry a person from lower caste”. How do you even talk of a caste less Indian society when you cannot marry your kid to a lower caste person or when you have become so arrogant with your caste identity? It is so disgusting that you would rather kill your own child than marrying him/her to a person of lower caste.

I had the false notion of how education transforms lives. Yes, it definitely has opened up paths and created opportunities for many, allowing people to rise above the circumstances of their birth and background. But still educated mass of India likes to live with their so-called privileged upper caste titles. As India transforms, one might expect caste to dissolve and disappear, but that is not happening.  Instead, caste makes its presence felt vibrantly alive when it comes to two significant societal markers — marriage and politics.

Discrimination based on caste has been illegal in India for more than six decades. But still it shows its colors in a hush-hush manner. And, the irony is that we call ourselves a secular and free country.

We, our lives, official jargon(s) and Us

I do not know whether you want to acknowledge it, but don’t you think our lives revolve around our professional space. All those experts and obviously loaded big bosses always tell us how we need to distinguish our personal and professional lives. They will always preach that their successful lives are because they could draw the thin line between their personal and professional commitments. Well, bigger and fatter salaries may have taught you that.

            Let us not wander into that territory, however. I want to draw your attention towards all official no-nonsense jargon(s) that we use often in our day to day lives. How many times in our everyday conversation, do we use the phrases ‘No Issues’, ‘Let me check what I can do about it’ (famous HR lines), etc.?

            One of my friends emailed me her recent holiday pictures she had shot in Singapore with the famous message body ‘PFA’. I was dumbfounded to see such a formal way to share those pictures with me, which I had already seen in Facebook. I forward the scanned copies of my certificates from one email ID to another and write ‘FYI’. Now, I wonder why I need to be informed. My maid calls me and asks if she can come late on some day due to some reason and I reply her “NO ISSUES, you can come late”.

            I will tell you about one more hilarious incident, which to my horror, my husband never lets me forget. Why should not I tell it to everybody myself? Once our car had gone for servicing, when they did not wash the car properly and my husband raised a complaint. So this car dealer calls us again for a free car wash. This time to our disappointment, they had somehow misplaced our foot mats. So, I go to the mechanic (all fumed up) and ask him “Is this how you do a SERVICE RECOVERY?”

            One day my boss was on sick leave, and he emails to all his team members with the subject ‘Out of service, on sick leave today’. I could not understand whether to laugh or to feel sorry that he was not well. Rather, I took a long tea break. We were having a party on New Year’s Eve on our apartment terrace. Our own society was organizing the event and we needed to contribute some amount. So one among us shouts (as we ladies were chit chatting about our maids), “Let’s get ready for the party and contribute the money ASAP”.

     As you all are aware, water scarcity is a big issue in any apartment on a weekend. One fine Saturday morning, there was no water supply and when the reservoir could not reciprocate to our demands. All the tenants and occupants of the flats asked the watchman to run the water motor pump so as to meet our demands from the underground bore well. To our horror, the watchman tells us that the water motor pump is not working from the last week and so, he is trying the dealer’s number now. And one gentleman who is from the Software industry tells him, “You should raise the RED-FLAG immediately if there is any ISSUE, rather than waiting for things like this to happen“. We understand that he had a point there, and he was off course right but, our dear watchman didn't understand anything.

            My sister sends me a greeting card on my email with emotion filled words and images. I was brought to tears. Please do not misunderstand me; I was not overwhelmed by her emotional greeting card. I could not control my laugh and due to which my eyes started watering. At the end of her email, it was written, ‘Thanks and Regards’, so and so, official email ID, contact number, etc. Once we had visited our family friends’ and their two year old son was very naughty. His father, on a lighter note, was telling about his son’s mischievous stories and tells us “these kids are not very USER-FRIENDLY”.

            We were planning to call one aerobics teacher or a gym trainer to our apartment, who can come daily morning and every family can join in the training sessions. So, we started a discussion in WhatsApp for its feasibility, cost, number of people interested, etc. I get a WhatsApp message one day, “Hey, let me know who will be the STAKEHOLDERS and what will be its IMPACT on regular gym timings”.

            We are unaware of how many such official jargons or phrases we use in our daily conversations. Now, please tell me how and where I draw that thin line between my personal life and professionalism. J

How to start a conversation?

Well, I am not going to run you through some boring preaching’s, even if the name suggests. Sometimes a title can be pretty confusing, or rather misleading. Start imagining, you are in the 80’s and a guy working in some Government office goes to see a chosen alliance by one of his aunt(s), uncle(s) or his parents. At the prospective bride’s place, respective parents are talking and the guy is looking about the place in silence. The girl comes with a laden tray in her hands, no sound coming from the audience except the sound of cup and saucers quarreling with each other. She is asked to take a seat just opposite to the guy’s. Both had never seen each other  till then and are now going to be tied to each other for the rest of their lives. But they do not speak to each other, maybe just a little peak at each other. But later, they not only get married to each other, live happily ever after with bumps and burps of course. And now, they not only speak to each other, but quarrel often. Somewhere, somehow that conversation had started. As well said by geniuses, a spark neglected burns the house. No offense or pun intended, please. This was just a figment of my imagination.

Now is the era of electronics, fancy gadgets, and hi-fi technologies. People talk whole night on phone, and sometimes over the internet face to face. Tech savvy people of today can start a conversation easily. You might have also heard about people getting married over the internet. Sometime back I had read that someone got divorced too over the web. Amazing, isn’t it?

The other day, I was travelling by bus and there were these two guys sitting opposite to me. One was, I believe, a student waiting to jump into the corporate world and the other was working in some IT giant from last three or four years. The student who had bought a jacket from some sale was trying it. The working guy first asked the other what was the price, where did he buy that. I guessed the working guy was also searching for the same jacket from quite some time. The other guy showed him the price tag and then the conversation began. They talked about job market, mobile gadgets they were using, and also exchanged their numbers within those 15 minutes and they were now friends from long time. And to our surprise, people used to say only women can talk non-stop with anybody and everybody.

Next day I was waiting at the bus stop waiting for my favorite Volvo bus to my office. A lady comes near me and asks if the 8.30 AM bus has left already. I remember seeing that lady. We usually travel by the same bus, same time. Usually, I doze off with my headphones in my ears the whole route to office. I smiled at the lady and politely said that the bus is yet to come. I realized that it would be impolite not to have a little chit chat with the lady. I asked her if she stays nearby. Well, she stays near our apartments, she works in a bank, she has a three year old son, and she showed me his photograph in her cell phone, her husband’s office is nearby, her brother is studying medicine from some college in Kanpur, and her brother in law is in US since last eight years. She gave me her visiting card. I patiently exchanged my visiting card. She asked me where I had done my engineering from, I politely said Motilal Nehru National Institute of Technology, Allahabad. Well, then she told me that it was earlier known as REC, Allahabad (as if I didn’t know that) and her father in law had done engineering from the same college where my husband and I had studied a few years back. I just hoped that her father in law is not from the same batch. Suddenly I realized that I also know that she has one woman who comes to look after her son when he comes back from his play school and there is a guy who comes to cook for the family. After that I put on my headphones and pretended to sleep.

I remember a guy I used to meet every day while waiting for the office bus, a few years back in New Delhi. We were in the same office but used to work for different departments. Initially, we used to exchange smiles and didn’t even know each other’s names. One fine morning, I realized that the guy didn’t reciprocate my smile. He was looking very pale and seemed upset about something. I just asked, what happened, are you alright? And he burst out crying. At first, I got scared that I had hurt him asking that simple question. I was seriously horrified to see a 6 feet tall man crying on the streets. I offered him my water bottle and was unable to speak anything. He said sorry and took a sip from my water bottle. And then silence. I was cursing the driver who had not arrived with the bus and today of all days, he had to come late. Suddenly I heard a voice speaking, “Two days later, is Raksha Bandhan, and my sister is no more”. I turned back and stupidly asked, how? I saw some tears were going to spill over from his eyes again. I wanted to slap myself at that point. He looked straight into my eyes and said his sister had blood cancer and had passed away two years back. I could only say, sorry. He just sighed. And our office bus finally arrived. We got into the bus. I was disturbed the whole day. Next day, the guy didn’t even look at me. Then the next day was Raksha Bandhan, and I thought the guy might not come. But he came and gave me a half smile. I asked him if he is alright. He gave me another half smile. I said he could have stayed home. He replied life has to go on. I don’t know what came over me; I asked him if I could tie him a rakhi. I still remember his face; it lit up with thousands of bulbs. I have shifted to another city now but we still keep in touch and my rakhi brother is no less than a real brother (a real bully, I mean :P).

Have I deviated from my topic? I was not going to make you emotional. I just wanted to tell you how complete strangers become bosom friends (or some people might turn into enemies) with a mere conversation. Take the example of those kids going to school for the first day. Many of them teary to leave their parents’ care as if they are going to some war. Some kid might not cry initially but after looking at the other kids he/she might join in. And some would be mischievous enough to try new things at school. After some days, they will find their partners in crime and even after reaching home, they will talk non-stop about his/her friend in school.

I guess, a smile, an occasional how are you, maybe a little chit chat can bring complete strangers together. There is no art involved in starting a conversation. In our busy lives, we are fortunate enough to know so many wonderful people that too in such a short life span. The people we meet almost every day, maybe the conductor and the driver of the bus in which we travel daily, the fruit seller and vegetable vendor from whom we buy vegetables and fruits almost every other day, the pizza delivery boy, the office peon, the canteen man, even the occasional annoying Auto driver of our area, all make our life lively. Let’s talk to them and see how interesting the life can be. 

My First View of the Taj

Well, what am I going to share with you is technically not about the day I had first seen the Taj Mahal. I had been to Agra when I was in school with my dad, mom and younger sister. That time I had read about the Taj in my History Text books and I had also read the story about Shahjahan building it in the name of his deceased and beloved wife Mumtaj. For me, it was just a tomb then. I had asked my mother, why the Mughal Emperor had spent so much money to build just a tomb. My mother had just laughed.

This time, I had visited the Taj with my husband merely after 20 days of our marriage. We entered the premises from the western gate. We took snaps of the grand door of red stones and then I saw the monument of love. The white colour of purity that still stands as the symbol of love, the Emperor of the Mughal Dynasty had felt for his wife, affected me so much that I was dumbfounded for a few minutes. I was feeling that I am very fortunate to be an Indian at the same time.

During my growing up years, I had always thought that there is nothing mystical in the Taj Mahal. I was just proud of the fact that the Taj Mahal is amongst the Seven Wonders of the World. This time, when we were planning to visit the Taj, I was not much enthusiastic about it. I had not realized at all that the first view of the white marbled structure would jolt me so much that I would like to praise its beauty. It was like seeing the moon after many days of dark cloudy nights. I felt as if a peaceful breeze is cooling me. Even though I had been here before, this time I could not think of the Taj as a mere historical monument. It was hypnotizing me.

There were foreigners, some A.B.C.Ds. (American Born Confused Desis), some intellectuals, some road side Romeos, couples like us, and many vacationers visiting the Taj that day. I was wondering what was going on in everyone’s mind, however, to read everybody’s mind I will have to be born as God himself. But looking at the rush and heavy crowd, I really wanted to know, what does Taj seem to everyone? Everyone was clicking their fancy mobile phones, digital cameras and some were also flashing their most expensive gadgets to take pictures. We had also taken several snaps but the picture I took with my eyes will remain with me till my last breathe.

All my life, I had believed that white is the colour of peace and red is the colour of love. And looking at the construction, I thought of something which I wanted to share with the world. The four gates surrounding the Taj are built with red stones and inside is the Taj built in white marble. I was thinking, why is it considered to be a symbol of love? I guess, red is the colour of your heart that makes you love somebody and being in love will give you inner peace symbolized by the white colour. At the moment, the thought stuck me I saw a white pigeon sitting in one of the pillars. I signalled my husband to look towards that direction but he said there was no white pigeon. Maybe it was a figment of my imagination. So, I just smiled at him. My soul had found a solace. 

Massacre Of An Estranged Heart

Friends’ Conversation: "Tuhina is dead, she is no more" Oh my God, what are you saying, how can it be? What had happened to her? I never knew if she had any kind of illness. "Oh no, no. You are getting it wrong, she didn't die of any illness. She committed suicide. She ended her own life". That is all the more shocking. She didn't seem depressed to me when I had met her last Sunday, that was just four days back. It's only Thursday. We had met at the CityPlaza mall and she was happily shopping for her upcoming cousin's wedding. She had shown me her new Lehenga and had asked me what color of slippers she should buy that would go with the dress. Her boyfriend Vimal, was also with her. She had told me that they were also planning to announce their engagement next month. What went wrong suddenly?

Mother’s Plight: They tell me my daughter has died. Tuhina has committed suicide. How can a mother bear this kind of news, you tell me? What do you expect me to say? My own child is no more and I feel I have been axed with a sharp knife. Why my Lord, why had this happened to me? You could have taken my life instead of my child's. I remember the day you had brought her to my life. She was a beautiful child. She was always full of life. She was an amazing daughter. After her father and I had divorced, she had remained with me. Sandipan was handed over to his father. Tuhina was all I had. Ohhh, Tuhina why did you leave your mother alone? Where have you gone? Oh beloved child, please come back to mamma.

Brother’s Pain: My younger sister is dead. I had found out from a news channel today morning. She was ten years old when we were separated. What went wrong with her that she committed suicide? I am feeling so helpless. What do I do now? Shall I call my mother? But, what would I say? I hadn't spoken to her for last sixteen years. Dad never wanted us to communicate. Shall I inform dad about Tuhina? Why your mere name is ripping my heart apart, my little sister? You were so young to die. I wish I had kept in touch with you. I could have known you as a person. Maybe, I could have stopped you from ending your life this way. Oh Lord, forgive me for not looking after my one and only sister.

Fiancé’s Dilemma: Oh my love, how could you do this? We could have a built a wonderful life together. We were so good together. How could you leave me alone? You could have waited a few days more. Oh sweetheart, we could have discussed the whole thing. What would I do without you, now, my dearest girl? I want to see you smile at me again. I want to hold your hands and feel your warmth. We were about to get married, damn it. Oh Lord! What have you done, Tuhina? You could have taken me with you. I can't live without you.

Tuhina’s Diary: "I am Tuhina, 26 years old, ending my own life today, on 26th June, 2010. I don’t have the strength to go on anymore. I feel as if all the four walls of my bedroom are closing in on me. I had made a life for myself. I am a post graduate. I own a car and an apartment here at the up market locality in the city. I could not understand why did this happen to me? I have all the reports in front of me. How could someone be so cruel? What have I done wrong to deserve this? I am being axed. I can’t bear all the pain that is crippling me. Nobody is listening to me. I have sent so many messages and there have been no replies. They think I have done this deliberately. I swear on God, I have not done this; I had been duped by whom I have loved so much. I had believed so blindly, oh God.

As for Vimal, he is never going to understand. He never listens to me anyways. His mother is right, he would never be happy with me. It would be best if I do not exist in his life. His mother can find a girl worthy of him. I just want to say sorry, Vimal, and remember that I had loved you truly.

Mamma was so proud of me. Maa thinks I am her golden girl. I am no longer a golden girl, mamma. I have failed you. I have lost everything mamma, my life has been ruined. Please forgive me mamma. I had to do this. And one more thing, I still miss you Bhaiyya."

Police Headquarters:  Clueless of what had been the cause for her suicide and investigation is still going on. Anyways, case will be closed after a few days.

Media Files: Hot selling newspaper headline for first two days, afterwards appeared again in second or third page for another one or two day. Then, phew, went into garbage bin. News channels also reported the News same way. Well, what can the media do, we too love peeking into other people’s lives. There is a saying that City people do not take mush interest in chitchatting with their neighbors, but they do love gossips of any kind of anybody.

Mystery Unsolved:  ?????? I know you also are curious about why did she kill herself. Well go ahead, you also speculate and try to figure out reasons. (And do kill the dead once more).

The Waiting....

Nitasha is very upset with Swayam. She is not at all looking at him; however, much he is trying to catch her attention. Swayam did not tell her about the blood transfusion planned for today again. He never tells her before, so she never comes prepared for these schedules.

            Little Mimi, was in oblivion. She was unaware of the whole situation. Swayam was making funny faces at her and she was smiling at him. The nurse came and inserted those tubes and needles to little Mimi’s tiny young hands. Mimi winced painfully; Nitasha avoided her child’s distorted face. The nurse told something in her ears and tickled her, she smiled between her tears. Nitasha avoided everything. She was watching all those kids playing from that hospital window at the nearby garden.

            Swayam came near Nitasha and touches her shoulder. Nitasha simply asks, “Why?” Swayam answers “I didn’t want to upset you”. Nitasha turns to look at her daughter. Mimi was asleep due to her sedatives and anesthesia, or whatever it was. “When is it going to end?” she asks her husband. Swayam says, “I don’t know”.

            That nurse comes back again and says, “Mr. Swayam, doctor wants to see you”. Nitasha feels her stomach is churning again. Swayam looks at Nitasha’s horrified face and says, “I will go meet the doctor, you stay here”. Swayam leaves with the nurse. Nitasha looks at her sleeping child. Mimi is sleeping so peacefully, she doesn’t even know about the emotional turmoil Nitasha is going through. Nitasha sheds some silent tears. Mimi was diagnosed with some genetical disorder disease when she was just 20 months old. She was going to be 3 years old next week. Nitasha could not come to terms with which genes became fatal for her little child. So, naturally, Nitasha blamed herself all these days.

            Swayam comes back and tries to smile at Nitasha, but Nitasha understands. She is afraid of asking. So, they just glance at each other and look at their beautiful sleeping daughter. Mimi chooses that moment to wake up. She looks at her parents and asks, “When are we going home?” Swayam says, “Very soon, dear”. Mimi looks at all those needles and tubes in her body and Mimi asks, “Daddy, will I have to carry these things also with me?” Swayam answers her, “No sweetheart, you will not need them from now”. Mimi gets excited and says “Wow, then mommy will not cry from now”. Nitasha runs away from the room.

            At 9:30 PM, that nurse comes back again, and gives some papers to Swayam. Swayam had read them in earlier occasions also. He signs those papers without even looking at them. Nurse removes the tubes and needles from Mimi’s body. When she was about to leave, Mimi calls her “Aunty, I will not come here again, Bye. Please come to my birthday party next week”. That nurse looks back at the child and says with a sad smile, “Bye Sweetheart”.

            They finish all the paperwork and formalities and leave the hospital by 10PM. Mother, father and the little girl leave the hospital, never to come back again. Nurse Daisy, was watching them getting into the car and leaving the premises.

Our own Nysa - her story

This is the story of our own Nysa. By her name it seems it will be a story full of glitter and glam. But it is not so. Nysa was born to an affluent family. Her father was an acclaimed lawyer. She, however, could not know her mother as her mother had passed away when she was only two. Her father had bestowed upon her all his love and she had come out to be a beautiful, educated and cultured lady. She had risen to become an acclaimed doctor herself. During her medical studies, she had met Arun, a brilliant lad from Kerala. They had fallen in love as their mindsets were so alike and they had dreamt to build their life together with love and do their share for humanity by building a hospital with multi-specialty clinics and serving the poor. Arun and Nysa joined a reputed Hospital in Mumbai and their journey to fulfill their dreams started with cheer and happiness.

Well, first hurdle on their route was to get married. Nysa had never let her father down. Her father, too, had brought the motherless girl up with so much love that, he could not say no to his daughter’s chosen one. Arun’s parents initially opposed to an inter-state match. Their concern was what would their society think of such an alliance? His elder sister was already married and what would her in-laws say about it? Arun, however, persuaded his parents to at the least meet the girl and her father. They reached Ahmedabad and Nysa’s parent welcomed them to their house with honor. Arun’s parents were overwhelmed by Nysa’s upbringing and her father’s conduct and demeanor. They found Nysa very approving. All social barriers were forgotten and cultural differences were sorted out. Nysa and Arun were married.

So far, so good. They should have lived happily ever after, as far as I or you can imagine. They got married in Ahmedabad as it was her father’s wish that he marry his only daughter from his ancestral house. Next day after marriage, Nysa and Arun left for Addur, with Arun’s family and relatives. Nysa was so excited to visit his hometown and she was thrilled to be a part of a complete family. Arun took Nysa to Munnar for their honeymoon. Days were happier and happier. They were so much in love. Theirs was a perfect match made in heaven.

Honeymoon over, they returned to Addur to stay there for some days before heading back to Mumbai. Arun loved his mother very much. Nysa was a motherless child so she was drawn to his mother. Nysa thought she will get her motherly share of love from her mother in-law. First day, they returned from Munnar, she took bath early in the morning and entered kitchen so that she could make breakfast for her in-laws. She was excited to perform her first duties as a married woman. She was a good cook and it came out quite well and to her satisfaction. She served whatever she had prepared to her husband and her in-laws. Her in-laws ate their breakfast in silence and didn’t say anything. She asked her husband how was the food. And he replied that it was not bad. Nysa remembered her father how he used to appreciate her cooking. She thought maybe her own father was biased. She suppressed her feelings and thought maybe the food didn’t come out to their satisfaction. Her sister in-law was coming for lunch that very day and Nysa thought it would be a good opportunity to impress her in-laws. So she asked her mother in-law, if she could prepare the lunch. Her mother-in-law said since it was Nysa’s own house now, she can prepare food if she likes when guests are coming. Nysa was so overwhelmed with what her mother-in-law said that tears came into her eyes. She was very happy to cook that day. She prepared four varieties of curry, two different varieties of rice and sweet dishes. Nysa’s sister-in-law Preethi, came with her husband and children. Nysa served them with full enthusiasm. Preethi, Preethi’s children and husband were all praises for Nysa. When she served her father-in-law, mother-in-law and Arun, her father-in-law commented that he had never tasted anything better. When Nysa looked at Arun’s eyes, she was overjoyed to see his expression. He was looking very proud. She asked him again how the food was. He replied it was okay. Nysa thought maybe Arun was acting shy to praise her in front of his parents. She didn’t mind though as the look in his eyes had spoken much.

After her sister-in-law and her family left, Nysa’s mother in-law called Nysa to her room and told her that the food Nysa had prepared was not up to the mark. Since, Nysa had cooked for the first time at their house, everyone was praising her. She told Nysa that as Nysa was a motherless child, she understood that Nysa did not get proper training of cooking. She asked Nysa to learn cooking fast as her son is fond of eating. Nysa then had her lunch alone with a heavy heart. After lunch she washed all the utensils and went to her own room and wept. Arun asked her what was wrong. Nysa told him what her mother had told her. Arun said his mother was a very good cook, what Nysa cooked was nice but maybe his mother had thought something was missing in the ingredients and that was why she had told Nysa all those things. He asked Nysa to take that in a positive way. Nysa thought that Arun might be right after all.

Next day, her mother-in-law told her and Arun to go visit a nearby temple and asked Nysa not to eat non-veg that day. Nysa and Arun visited the temple and offered prayers to the deity. When they returned, they were asked to come for lunch. Lunch was served and everything there was non-veg. Arun asked his mother what was Nysa supposed to eat, and the reply came as whatever is left out from the other day, she can eat. Nysa with tears in her eyes left the room. After finishing his lunch, Arun came to console her and asked her not to mind anything as his mother didn’t mean anything wrong. He also admitted that since he is her only son, she is feeling insecure as he loves Nysa a lot. Arun and Nysa left for Mumbai the next day.

Their life together as a couple started there. Nysa changed the two bedrooms flat to a home, selecting each and every article with love and great care. She took care of each every detail to define their home starting from curtains, utensils, furniture, decorations, etc. Arun was proud of her, though he never used to praise her, she could see that in his eyes. He was fond of her culinary skills too. She used to take care of each and everything of their life, starting from cooking, cleaning, washing, laundry, and taking care of the household. Gradually, Arun had started praising her and he started appreciating her efforts too. They used to go to hospital together and come back together. It was perfect.

After two months, her in-laws had asked Arun and Nysa to come for a relative’s wedding at Addur. But as her father had fallen ill, Arun and Nysa had to rush to Ahmedabad. Nysa’s father had had a stroke and was admitted in ICU. Arun and Nysa stayed in Ahmedabad for five days till her father was out of ICU and returned home. Once they returned to Mumbai, her mother in-law called Nysa to know about her father. Nysa told her about his stroke and hospitalization. Her mother-in-law said as her father returned safely to his home, his illness was not that serious and Arun and Nysa could have made to that wedding after all. And she instructed Nysa that she should ask her father to make a will before his demise. Nysa was speechless to hear that. She told Arun about that call from his mother that very day. Arun defended his mother saying his mother didn’t mean any harm. Nysa and Arun quarreled, then. Arun accused her of complaining every time. Arun also said that his mother is feeling insecure and Nysa is not trying to understand that.

Four months later, Nysa’s father passed away. Nysa and Arun left for Ahmedabad. On the second day, Arun was called to Addur as his mother had fallen ill. Nysa underwent all the rituals to bid farewell to her father all alone. She returned to Mumbai after thirteen days and Arun had also flown back the same day. When Nysa enquired about her mother-in-law’s health, Arun informed her that his mother had eaten something stale and was down with dysentery. Arun told Nysa that he was really ashamed of leaving Nysa at the time of need and he had thought that his mother was seriously ill. Nysa asked Arun if she had something wrong to deserve this attitude from her mother-in-law. Nysa started crying and Arun asked her to stop crying and blamed Nysa for all the problems Nysa had with his mother, he also said that he is being grinded from both the sides. Nysa was shocked to hear that.

Their first anniversary was approaching. Arun’s mother came to Mumbai to visit them. Arun and Nysa had to go to hospital everyday; they used to get a holiday only on Sundays. They used to leave for the hospital early in the morning and they used to return home at night. Arun’s mother told Arun that Nysa is not a proper wife; she can’t cook also. She accused Nysa of not taking care of her household. Nysa used to prepare breakfast for them all before leaving for the hospital, and after coming back also she used to cook dinner. Her mother-in-law complained that after eating Nysa’s food, she had got stomach problems. One day when Arun appreciated Nysa’s food, his mother stopped eating. Every day when they used to come back from hospital, she started pretending she is ill.

On that Sunday, she kept on taunting Nysa and told Arun that her neighbour’s daughter-in-law is always at home, doing all the cooking and household duties. Nysa lost her temper and left the house for a walk. When she came back after some time, she found her mother-in-law seething. She just ignored that and started her cooking. She served the lunch when again her mother-in-law complained about Nysa’s cooking. Nysa was also fuming by the end. Nysa and Arun quarreled after that and Arun got so angry that he started hitting his wife. Nysa became unconscious and Arun left the house to have some peace outside. Arun’s mother took her opportunity and sprinkled kerosene on Nysa and set her ablaze. Nysa came out of the house yelling in pain with those angry flames around her. Their neighbors rushed her to hospital.

Today is their first anniversary and Nysa is in ICU with 85% burns. Outside Arun is sitting with his hands on his head. Nysa can go any moment now.

Those Clouds and that Rainy day

                I am sitting here at my desk sipping coffee and outside rains are playing havoc on my window pane. The smell of wet soil is reminding me of a time which had changed two lives. This is neither about some different story nor a different lifetime. This is still the same story and the same lifetime, where rain Gods play cupid and completely throws you off-balance.

                Monsoon clouds were glooming over the horizon when a phone beeps. A text message asks, “Do you like surprises?” and reply comes “Depends upon the surprise”. Another beep sound and it says “In that case, guess”. In reply, new message asks “Are you coming here?” and the answer was “YES”.

                After a few days on a clear sunny day, two people meet for the first time in their life for lunch. The setting was a posh restaurant in an upmarket area of an Indian Metropolitan city offering a delectable menu. Over that mouth-watering and appetizing meal, they found out that both of them are great foodies. That discovery about each other instantly bonded the two souls. After the heavy meal, they decided to go for a stroll so as to find out more about each other. Destiny had something else also written for these two individual souls. Monsoon clouds roared and it started pouring suddenly and they had only one umbrella to share.  The street which was dry a few minutes ago became slippery now and these two people holding their hands together started crossing the street slowly and steadily. Who knows, maybe this marked their journey of life together.

                Another evening they were strolling beside each other on the soft sands near the sea shore. The waves and tides were making noise and both of them were walking without any words spoken between them. There was this sense of easy comradery between them. They stopped at some point to enjoy the view. The daylight was diminishing and dusk was coming to an end. Her untied hairs were flying wild. He held her hairs with his hands and an electric sensation ran through both of them. They stood there standstill, without moving, without speaking. She wanted that moment not to end anytime.

                Then there was a soft moo sound from the nearby cow shed, which jolted them back to reality. Without any words spoken, they walked back to the narrow street near the beach. The street lights had come alive now and above there was the pitch black sky. The fresh aroma of spicy cooked seafood filled the air. They spotted one big toad jumping from one end of the street to another. They started chasing the animal to take some snaps. Their laughter was childlike that brought them more close to each other. And at that point of time, it started drizzling again. They smiled at each other; it was time to head back home.

                And then during those formative years of life, when they had started their life together, they were collecting the building blocks of their home. One fine day they bought one folding table and they were carrying that table in between them on a two-wheeler. She was unable to see anything and holding tight to the table and he was slowly riding the bike. And suddenly the clouds broke their fury and a heavy downpour started. They were getting drenched so they had to take shelter in a roadside battered tea shop. Rain Gods were furious that day. Sipping that sugary hot cup of tea, they waited for those heavy showers to stop. When it reduced a little, they started their journey again, treading slowly, steadily and carefully. Doesn’t that mark the beginning of a married life?

                They were going on a long drive that day in their new car. They were crossing a mountain peak with all those crazy twists and turns. Rain drops were making noise and the car windshield wipers were busy fighting the waters. The drive was slow as they had to be extremely careful. They finally reached the peak after a difficult drive and were overjoyed to see the landscape. They could see clouds all around moving from one end to another. Slowly and gradually clouds started clearing and sunny golden rays filtered through them. It was magical. Life is surely magical when you know you are sharing it with someone you love and care for.

                Sitting on their verandah, both of them were sipping coffee and enjoying monsoon rains on a lazy Sunday afternoon, when she told him, “You know one day I had understood what you mean by your heart doing a somersault. Even today, it misses a beat whenever I remember that gesture that had taken my heart away. We were going for a ride in your two-wheeler that day when you adjusted the side mirror just to look at me and pretended as if it was just to check upon other vehicles. Well I had understood your move that day but didn’t want to spoil that moment by letting you know.”

A sweet song played on ‘Chhoti See Kahani Se, Baarishon ke Paani Se’ and the story goes on.