I had never realized how much I needed her till that night. I called her up but the call was received by my neighbour who told me that she was gravely ill and had been admitted in the hospital with very low blood pressure. I had always taken her for granted, thinking – She’ll agree. I don’t need to ask her about this. What if she gets a little angry, I can always appease her...and similar things.
Someone once rightly said that you don’t know how important someone is to you unless they go out of your life. It was at that moment that I realized how much I had depended on her – for everything. A guy of my age generally considers himself quite unemotional; even considering it embarrassing to show his emotions in front of someone else. It was the same for me. Perhaps that is why, on listening to the news of her sickness and realizing that it had been almost a year since I saw her, my first reaction was of trying to remember what all had happened on my last trip home. The thing that I remembered distinctly was a quarrel with her. Although I had said sorry over the phone after I returned to college, it is never the same as meeting personally.
I was still regretting the moment and the reason of the quarrel while packing my bags when it struck me that she might not even be alive when I got there. The thought struck me like lightning and caused me to drop everything that I was trying to force into my bag. I somehow gathered the courage to pack my things and spent the rest of the time crying quietly, crouched on my bed. Though I am an atheist by choice, I distinctly remember praying to the nameless God to keep her well. Even though I don’t know which God I prayed to, I prayed for her well-being and for me to get a chance to say sorry.
The train journey was spent musing about everything that had happened, tears welling up in my eyes every now and then but I was forced to stop them from coming out – I am a guy and guys don’t cry, specially in a train full of unknown people. Although I had packed my iPod, by habit – without thinking, I didn’t even think of taking it out of my bag. It was in this reverie that the train reached Purulia and even then one of my co-passengers had to tell me that it was the last stop and that I should get going.
I caught the first bus I could in order to get home. Getting down at the bus stop, I took an auto straight to the hospital and ran the entire length of the ward to reach the bed she was on. There I saw her, lying peacefully with 3-4 tubes around her and an oxygen mask on her mouth. The doctor told me that she should be fine in a couple of days and that I might take her home after a week. I thanked all the Gods, even those of whom I had forgotten names, for keeping her away from danger.
She was able to open her eyes and look at me by the next day. When I went in front of her, she looked at me as if it was the first and only thing she had expected. She didn’t say a word when I broke down in her lap and cried my heart out. She was confused when I told her that I was sorry for what had happened on my last visit – she had forgiven me a long time ago and even forgotten the matter altogether. And she got angry when I told her that I would follow each and every thing she said from now onwards, her reaction being, “If you don’t show any stubbornness, how would I know that you are my son?”
And that was the moment of my life that I will never forget...
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
How to?
How do you get the over-excited four-year old kid you are traveling with to shut up and let you concentrate on chatting up the attractive girl sitting next to you in the train? (This was a question I faced recently during my vacations when I was traveling with my nephew.)
1)Tell him to shut up: If it was as simple as that, why would I have been asking this question at all?
2)Buy him something to eat: Anything you throw at him would be consumed before you get to say, “Hi,” and then you would have to drop your plans of starting a conversation because you see him swinging from the shelf. Plus, this would leave you poorer by a few bucks every time you try this.
3)Get him something to read: The most a four-year old kid knows is A B C D and a few rhymes and he would make such a loud noise reciting them that you would wish you hadn’t asked him to do it.
4)Give him your music player to listen to: As soon as he gets his hands on it, he would start trying to dismantle it rather than listening to it, forcing you to wrench it away for safe-keeping.
5)Smack him on the head: This will do the trick only if either he is scared enough to obey you or if he starts crying and goes to sleep thereafter. Since you do not know how hard to hit, the kid will most probably start crying – causing a lot of annoyance to you as well as your fellow passengers. Moreover, if he does not go to sleep it was a futile exercise. To top it all, hitting a kid would give a bad impression on the girl.
If any of you has any other ideas, please suggest.
1)Tell him to shut up: If it was as simple as that, why would I have been asking this question at all?
2)Buy him something to eat: Anything you throw at him would be consumed before you get to say, “Hi,” and then you would have to drop your plans of starting a conversation because you see him swinging from the shelf. Plus, this would leave you poorer by a few bucks every time you try this.
3)Get him something to read: The most a four-year old kid knows is A B C D and a few rhymes and he would make such a loud noise reciting them that you would wish you hadn’t asked him to do it.
4)Give him your music player to listen to: As soon as he gets his hands on it, he would start trying to dismantle it rather than listening to it, forcing you to wrench it away for safe-keeping.
5)Smack him on the head: This will do the trick only if either he is scared enough to obey you or if he starts crying and goes to sleep thereafter. Since you do not know how hard to hit, the kid will most probably start crying – causing a lot of annoyance to you as well as your fellow passengers. Moreover, if he does not go to sleep it was a futile exercise. To top it all, hitting a kid would give a bad impression on the girl.
If any of you has any other ideas, please suggest.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Love at first sight?
“Hi! I am Abhay. I didn’t get your name.”
“Hello! You are looking very beautiful in this blue dress, it suits you. By the way, I am Abhay.”
“Hi! I am sorry but I couldn’t stop admiring you from afar and so thought it would be proper if I introduced myself.”
These were some of the self-introductory lines that crossed my mind when I looked at you for the first time. Let me make myself clear, I do NOT believe in love at first sight and anyhow, a classroom filled with 50-60 people is hardly the right place to fall in love, but there is something in you that has been attracting me from the moment I saw you.
Initially I thought that this is because you are very beautiful (a rarity in my college). But my friends (the people you’ll see sitting beside me if you turn your head) have made it pretty clear that they don’t consider you beautiful, let alone the “very” part. Some said you are kind-of cute and a few of them – the more outspoken ones – told me to get my eyes checked and now they are making fun of me. But somehow, I can’t help staring at you, although – sitting at the last bench – I can only see a part of your face.
You seem intent on copying down each and everything that the prof is saying. You won’t even be aware that some guy on the last bench has been staring at you continuously for the last half an hour or so. I, on the other hand, have not written a single word since I started looking at you. I hope I’ll be able to gather enough courage till the end of the class to ask you your name.
And now, you are looking at me and I feel happy - I try to smile. But something’s wrong – the whole class is looking at me!! Seems the prof has asked me a question and I have no clue what it is… I can hear someone sniggering. Thankfully, one of my friends seems to have been following the prof. He is whispering the answer now and I am repeating it out aloud. My mind meanwhile is buzzing with the questions, “Did she or anyone else notice that I was staring at her? Is this why the prof asked me this question? Did he comment something too that I missed?”
Now my friend has stopped whispering, it seems the answer is complete. Thanks a lot man, I owe you one! Even the prof seems satisfied. Now you have turned towards the blackboard again and I can go back to staring at you.
But what is this! You are packing up!! Has the bell gone? Everyone else is also packing up, seems 1 hour is over already. Funny how this same prof used to be able to bore me to death in 1 hour till last sem and now I am hoping that we had a double lecture!!
You pick up your stuff and leave in a hurry – I presume you have another class somewhere else – and so my hopes of getting to talk to you after the class are dashed. Anyways, this was only the first class, I’ll be sure to attend all the classes of this course. I’ll also try to sit on the first bench so that we might get talking once your tempo of noting down everything wears off.
If, at some point in time, you read this and recognize yourself, just give me a call. My no is +919932574151.
-- The guy in a black Mind-Over-Matter t-shirt and faded black jeans sitting at the back of the class.
“Hello! You are looking very beautiful in this blue dress, it suits you. By the way, I am Abhay.”
“Hi! I am sorry but I couldn’t stop admiring you from afar and so thought it would be proper if I introduced myself.”
These were some of the self-introductory lines that crossed my mind when I looked at you for the first time. Let me make myself clear, I do NOT believe in love at first sight and anyhow, a classroom filled with 50-60 people is hardly the right place to fall in love, but there is something in you that has been attracting me from the moment I saw you.
Initially I thought that this is because you are very beautiful (a rarity in my college). But my friends (the people you’ll see sitting beside me if you turn your head) have made it pretty clear that they don’t consider you beautiful, let alone the “very” part. Some said you are kind-of cute and a few of them – the more outspoken ones – told me to get my eyes checked and now they are making fun of me. But somehow, I can’t help staring at you, although – sitting at the last bench – I can only see a part of your face.
You seem intent on copying down each and everything that the prof is saying. You won’t even be aware that some guy on the last bench has been staring at you continuously for the last half an hour or so. I, on the other hand, have not written a single word since I started looking at you. I hope I’ll be able to gather enough courage till the end of the class to ask you your name.
And now, you are looking at me and I feel happy - I try to smile. But something’s wrong – the whole class is looking at me!! Seems the prof has asked me a question and I have no clue what it is… I can hear someone sniggering. Thankfully, one of my friends seems to have been following the prof. He is whispering the answer now and I am repeating it out aloud. My mind meanwhile is buzzing with the questions, “Did she or anyone else notice that I was staring at her? Is this why the prof asked me this question? Did he comment something too that I missed?”
Now my friend has stopped whispering, it seems the answer is complete. Thanks a lot man, I owe you one! Even the prof seems satisfied. Now you have turned towards the blackboard again and I can go back to staring at you.
But what is this! You are packing up!! Has the bell gone? Everyone else is also packing up, seems 1 hour is over already. Funny how this same prof used to be able to bore me to death in 1 hour till last sem and now I am hoping that we had a double lecture!!
You pick up your stuff and leave in a hurry – I presume you have another class somewhere else – and so my hopes of getting to talk to you after the class are dashed. Anyways, this was only the first class, I’ll be sure to attend all the classes of this course. I’ll also try to sit on the first bench so that we might get talking once your tempo of noting down everything wears off.
If, at some point in time, you read this and recognize yourself, just give me a call. My no is +919932574151.
-- The guy in a black Mind-Over-Matter t-shirt and faded black jeans sitting at the back of the class.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
The Plan
I am very happy today. After pleading with her for so long, she finally agreed to go on a date with me so that I might make my stand clear. We ended up in my apartment – our apartment as we had used to call it earlier, that is, before she moved out. She agrees now that it was foolish and paranoid of her to leave me. I had been crushed by her leaving me - after all I had done for her, after the days I had spent beside her hospital bed waiting for her to regain consciousness so that I might know exactly what had happened on that fateful day.
I never came to know exactly what had happened that day. We were supposed to be going out for a spin on the freeway but I had to suddenly go to an unscheduled meeting with an important client and I didn’t even get the time to call her up. Angry at this, she took off alone. I got a call a few hours later that her car had been found at the bottom of a ditch near the freeway and that she was severely injured – barely alive. I, as expected, was too shocked on hearing this to react.
It was two whole weeks before she regained consciousness for a long enough time to tell everyone what had happened. Apparently someone had tampered heavily with her car and that caused the accident.
It must have been during her stay in the hospital that she started suspecting me - probably because I was the only guy who knew of our plans. She never asked me anything outright but she started trying to avoid me when I went to the hospital to meet her. She didn’t answer any of my questions directly. I was alarmed at this but I thought that I could handle it.
I was shocked when, on the day of her return from the hospital – something I had been looking forward to eagerly – she told me that she planned on moving out of our apartment the same day. I tried my best to convince her not to do so but she didn’t pay heed to anything. She didn’t even give a reason for leaving. I learned it much later from her so-called friends with whom she had talked about this. So, she moved out and I was left wondering where I had gone wrong.
I tried contacting her a lot of times to prove my innocence and now, 6 months after she left me, she is back with me. Last night, I managed to convince her that I was not involved with the accident in any way and that the reason I was not with her that day was not some cooked-up excuse but a genuine reason.
Now, everything is fine. She’ll be moving in back with me in our apartment in a few days’ time and everything will be just as it was earlier.
There will be just one difference:
I’ll have to devise a more fool-proof plan next time.
I never came to know exactly what had happened that day. We were supposed to be going out for a spin on the freeway but I had to suddenly go to an unscheduled meeting with an important client and I didn’t even get the time to call her up. Angry at this, she took off alone. I got a call a few hours later that her car had been found at the bottom of a ditch near the freeway and that she was severely injured – barely alive. I, as expected, was too shocked on hearing this to react.
It was two whole weeks before she regained consciousness for a long enough time to tell everyone what had happened. Apparently someone had tampered heavily with her car and that caused the accident.
It must have been during her stay in the hospital that she started suspecting me - probably because I was the only guy who knew of our plans. She never asked me anything outright but she started trying to avoid me when I went to the hospital to meet her. She didn’t answer any of my questions directly. I was alarmed at this but I thought that I could handle it.
I was shocked when, on the day of her return from the hospital – something I had been looking forward to eagerly – she told me that she planned on moving out of our apartment the same day. I tried my best to convince her not to do so but she didn’t pay heed to anything. She didn’t even give a reason for leaving. I learned it much later from her so-called friends with whom she had talked about this. So, she moved out and I was left wondering where I had gone wrong.
I tried contacting her a lot of times to prove my innocence and now, 6 months after she left me, she is back with me. Last night, I managed to convince her that I was not involved with the accident in any way and that the reason I was not with her that day was not some cooked-up excuse but a genuine reason.
Now, everything is fine. She’ll be moving in back with me in our apartment in a few days’ time and everything will be just as it was earlier.
There will be just one difference:
I’ll have to devise a more fool-proof plan next time.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Dib
This is just a narration of what all i have done in the last few years of my life - every part of which includes Dibyendu.
Abhay’s Part
Someone told me a few days ago: “You have been with him for 8-9 years and you can’t even write 4 lines about him?” I replied: “I can write a few pages but I can’t condense it to 4 lines.” So here is my attempt although it corresponds more to what all we have done together than to what he is as a person.
The first time I saw Dibyendu, he was leaning on the balcony of his first-floor quarter – a chubby kid with a square face. We were in 6th or 7th then. The person next to me said: “He is in your class. Don’t you know him?” and I replied: “I have seen him in school but we have never been in the same section.” Who knew then that we would be spending the next 9 years of our lives living close to each-other !
The next time I saw him was on our first day in std. 8/B when I realized that he was in the same section as me. We used to sit at almost opposite ends of the classroom and for the first 1-2 months we never even talked. Dibyendu used to be a quiet guy who generally wouldn’t start a discussion but would have a lot to say if you managed to make him join in. One day, I went over to his table once for some reason (I don’t remember what) and we started talking. I had lunch with his gang of friends that day because my gang was absent that day. This was how I came in contact with the others – Raj, Ravi, Drolia, Sid – to name a few. I came to know that Raj n Dib were friends from std. 1 and it made feel a tinge of jealousy.
Dib was a highly emotional person then. Even I made him cry once over something very trivial although I had not imagined the effect it would have on him. I felt guilty the whole day. We would hang out together during the breaks, used to play our version of squash (with our legs and a cosco ball) during lunches. We even used to gossip sometimes during class – by signaling each-other from the opposite ends of the classroom.
I started going to school with him, mostly because his house was on my way to school. Raj did the same because he practically lived next door to Dib. Dib was the quintessential late-latif. We would reach his home and call him so loudly that the whole block heard and after a delay of a few minutes Dib would come out: “Ruk,joota pehen rahe hain.” If we didn’t call him but went to his house in stead, he would invariably be having his breakfast and we would have to sit and watch his eat, coaxing him to eat quickly. Despite all this, we somehow managed to reach school in the nick of time, everytime. After school, we would cycle to his house and the three of us would stand there talking for a long time. Sometimes our discussions got so prolonged that my mom got worried about my safety.
We used to look forward to eating at Dib’s home because his mom is a wonderful cook. I still cheerfully accept any offers of eating at his place without even the requisite decency of saying: “Mummy gussa hongi. Unhone khana bana rakha hai.”
In std. 9/D even Raj was in the same section as us. We could be found sitting and talking in class throughout the year. Raj and Dib were always arguing about something and I mostly used to be the referee. This scenario is true even today. I was always the bookish guy who scored the best marks in class while Raj was the walking encyclopedia with a few facts and an opinion about any damn thing under the sun. Dib also had his opinions but they were not so rigid although he tried his best to defend them. None of us in 9/D will ever forget the day we were suspended and how much fun we had that day and the next. The first time I celebrated my birthday was in 9th, just because these guys used to celebrate theirs and I used to be invited.
In 10/A I was pleasantly surprised to find Dib by my side again, although we were sorry that Raj wasn’t. Dib seemed to be living in another world and his entirely misdirected statements at random moments of time gave him the nickname – Bewda( Drunkard) in 10th. He acquired this nick courtesy Mantosh during our geography project in 10th.The name stuck for the remaining time in school and some people still refer to him as Bewda. We used to play foolish games in our English class. One of them was to try and hold your breath for the maximum possible time. Others included Hangman and pen-fight. Then came our board exams. None of us knew exactly how important they were or how far they would help us in getting a good career. We just knew that we were supposed to take them very seriously. So during our winter vacations, we started joint studies – which continued upto our 1st year in Kgp and still take place if we have a common course. We would be sitting in Raj’s home most of the time and solving last year question papers (most of the time we simply talked) while Raj’s mom would bring us something to eat. Till 10th Dib had a bicycle that would break your back if you rode if for even 15 minutes. Dib was always looking for an opportunity to grab your bicycle and make you ride his.
We broke quite a lot of things at each-other’s place in those days. I remember breaking Raj’s spectacles twice and Dib’s watch once. Raj broke Dib’s magnet for which Dib is yet to forgive him. And the three of us together broke Raj’s old bed.
By the end of 10th we had decided that we would be pursuing mathematics with the aim of appearing for JEE and enrolled in tuitions for the same. We used to have physics tuition at 5 in the morning for about a month and Dib used to be late for that to, making us late as well. Even in those classes we used to talk a lot. Our physics sir still says that we were the most talkative people he had seen in his class who were able to clear JEE in their first attempt. We attended the same tuitions for those 2 years. We even had a single set of books from which we prepared for JEE. If a new book was to be bought, we would contribute equally to it and most probably all three of us would go to buy it and name it RAD !!
The travel to-and-fro tuitions needs some explaining. All three of us could drive a two-wheeler but the problem was that we had at most one two-wheeler among us at any given time (sometimes it was zero and we had to rely on our bicycles). So 2 of us would be sitting on the vehicle while the third would be on his bicycle, holding the hand of the pillion rider and going at the speed of the vehicle without pedaling. We did this for 2 whole years without any accidents and God only knows how many kilometers I have ridden that way. I remember once I was on the bicycle when Raj told me that we were going at 60+ kmph. Also, while returning from the tuition we would stop at the Ram Mandir (a nearby market) and have snacks like samosas, egg rolls, chowmein etc. This was an everyday event and soon all the vendors knew us by face and by name. Even now, when we have been out of Bokaro for about 4 years, they recognize us when we go to them.
Dib was in my section in 11th and 12th too and Raj again wasn’t. Those 2 years at school rank high among the most memorable times of my life. We had a lot of fun in school as well as outside school. We made many more good friends like Shanky, Roop, Nidhi, Payel, etc. We had a lot of parties in those 2 years – leaving home at 9 in the morning and reaching home at 5 or 6 or even 7 in the evening. Our moms used to have a field day scolding us. Dib and I used to sit side-by-side and we would be solving mathematics in physics class or physics in the english class or just sitting and talking – disturbing the others and the teacher. One of our teachers even scolded us, saying: “You are good students but it doesn’t mean that you have already secured seats in IIT. Behave properly.” We had a good laugh about him after that class. We took to playing badminton in the evenings with other friends from school and used to play late into the night, lingering around even after it was too dark to see the shuttle. We usually studied at Dib’s place because he had room for his own and spent many of our nights there too.
We wrote our JEE mains exam on the 22nd of May and the next two months passed in a haze of peace. With nothing else to do, we usually ended up sitting and chatting at Dib’s place. We had decided that we would join the same institute if all 3 of us qualified. When the results came, we decided that Kgp would be the best option for us because I could get a good department at this place only given my rank was much worse than Raj’s or Dib’s.
In the 1st year, Raj and Dib were allotted MMM while I was in MS. MMM didn’t have net or a mess at that time. So, these guys used to be at my room most of the time. Sometimes, when I entered my room I would find a total stranger sitting there and then Raj or Dib would come and introduce him as a friend of his. Dib and Raj started learning tennis and guitar while I did none of these. Dib seems to have outgrown the guitar now but his dedication to tennis is still intact, in fact it has increased. I did more work for MMM illu than I did for MS because of these guys.
In the 2nd year, Dib and I were allotted the same hall – Azad while Raj got RK. Naturally, we became roomies. Dib worked a lot in illu even in that year and the 3rd and 4th years although his statement after every illu is: “Agle baar to hum poora peace maarenge. Kuchh nahi karenge.” He worked so hard in the 2nd year that he fell ill on the day after Diwali and I had to get him admitted to BCRoy.
In the 3rd year we got separate rooms and he currently lives in the room beside mine. We have spent a lot of memorable times since then too.
Dib is always ready to help anyone. He cycled all the way to Gopali to confirm a rumor that a blood donation camp was going to be held there (although he has never managed to donate blood for different reasons). He was the most active guy in the group when we were collecting funds in the institute for a leukemia patient. He was with me whenever I needed help – from emotional to financial. If you are a friend of his, he will never let you down – whatever the circumstances. Even his judgment has improved over the years.
His favorite pastime at home is sleeping throughout the day. There has not been a single time when I reached his house in the afternoon and he was awake. (A note to would-be girlfriends: He sleeps with 4-5 pillows around him so unless you are as soft as a pillow, you might get kicked out.)
Now he has been placed in NTPC and has less than a month before he leaves Kgp. I have seen Dib grow from a chubby boy who was a little low on common sense to a grown-up with sincerity, determination and a way of accommodating himself to almost any circumstance. I have not only watched him grow, I have grown up with him and everything I am today owes a part to him.
Raj’s Part
Now reading all this by Abhay has made me a bit SENTO and though my English sucks in comparison to Abhay’s I will have to write something.
Now writing about Dib is a bit strange partly because I have never attempted this before and partly I cannot even think of a time when I was not with this guy. To make things clear I have been with this guy for last 16 years of my life !!! So what I am, who I am and what I do are all in some ways related to Dib.
I first knew this guy in standard 1 when I got admission in St. Xavier’s school, Bokaro. He used to live just next to my block in sector 1/C but we used to go school in different rickshaws in the beginning. So Dib was this chubby guy, looked very studious and was sincere and clean urban kid. I had come from a village recently, I was dirty, not good in English and an outspoken kid and evidently I was not very good in studies!! So I knew this guy, used to talk to him sometimes but we were not very close until we were in the standard 3. He lived so close to my house and we played together in the evenings and it so happened that he played in my block more than in his own place and also played cricket matches as a player from my block, so living near and playing together brought us quite close and by std 4 we used to spend all our time in school together. I remember in std 4 how I used to rush to his class every break time in school and we would eat together and the play together. By this time we were already the best of friends spending a lot of time together and influencing each-other , I think I started to study a bit because of him and my results dramatically improved from standard 4 .
I have so many thoughts when I think of him so many that I myself cannot recount all of them now. In middle school we spent time like this together - going to school together, playing together in breaks and them coming back and playing again together in my block or in the nearby fields. I went to his home regularly and ate in his home a lot of times and sometimes stayed whole day there and still we were so different in many respects and its true still, the main thing is that though we influenced each-other a lot we never tried to change each other, we always accepted the ways we were and accommodate to it. It was so simple to do this with him and now when I think of it it’s so amazing.
We were growing up together and thinking about talking about our dreams and aspirations and sharing all our thoughts. I started going to school on a cycle by end of std 6 and he joined in soon with his antique hero ranger. We formed our own cricket team in the school. He started taking more interest in sports and other outdoor activities with me and I was doing better in my studies. By the time we passed our Middle school we had been in the same section for last 3 years, we both were considered to be good in studies, we both were improving in sports and we both were closer than ever.
We entered High school in different sections but with same dreams of doing well in studies and achieving something in our life. Dib was always more moral than me , he always has had a sense of responsibility and his firm resolve to be correct and do good has always influenced me a lot. This guy was getting an imposing character with an imposing physique. He soon became one of the taller guys in our school and also one of the most respected. At this time we found some new friends who came as close as we already were, Abhay and Ravi. Ravi was different, very different. He had a charm about him, very sophisticated yet very humble, very intelligent and yet eager to learn more and more. Abhay was different from all of us , he is the most modest of us and yet the most intelligent , not very assertive yet very firm in his believes and his deeds. We became really good friends especially Abhay, Dib and me partly because we shared so much with each other, all our thoughts, all our feelings it was just amazing. High school was great. We had lots and lots of fun but strangely no girls were a part of this :P. Dib and me had decided that girls are just a distraction and waste of time so we hardly talked to any girls though lately I have come to known that a lot of our batch mates had crush on Dib. .
After this it’s now a Raj and Abhay story and my story would be same as been told by Abhay.
There are a few more aspects from my point of view.
After board exams we had just one goal and that was IIT and we were going to achieve it together. We started studying for it in just a few days after our board exams and I remember that we got the books together from Rita madam’s house and studying H.C.Verma in my house together. We took all our tuitions together, we went to school together; we ate in Ram Mandir together, we would hang around with our friends together, we went to buy books together and also studied together. It was just great, all the time spent were together it was so much fun. Even studying was fun and even in that we three were so different. Abhay was inarguably the sharpest among us, he would just do a problem Dib and I would be trying all that and get the answer but then Dib would question his about how he got the answer and always Abhay would fail to tell, and at last when we three would have spent a lot of time on it and broke our heads on the problem it would turnout that Abhay was correct, just that he was not able to explain :P . Group study was great, it combined the strength of the three of us and weeded out our shortcomings. I really think I would never had made it to IIT without them simply because I am so restless and cannot concentrate for long.
It was not only studies, we enjoyed our time in junior college a lot. I became the Vice-Captain of school and we made a lot of new friends. Actually we formed TTA and we are still good friends with a lot of them. I learned how to talk with girls and fell in love. We always kept each-other in balance and always complemented each other and Dib was like the most stable version of the three of us - would keep us grounded and focused and rarely was seen excited.
All the time that we spent together brings a smile to me and really makes me believe that till now I have had a good life because I had these friends. I certainly owe a lot to them and even now when we don’t spend much time together and will be separated soon I feel they are always near me because they are so close to my heart. I hope both my friends are successful in life and make me proud. Though we will be together for all our life.
Abhay’s Part
Someone told me a few days ago: “You have been with him for 8-9 years and you can’t even write 4 lines about him?” I replied: “I can write a few pages but I can’t condense it to 4 lines.” So here is my attempt although it corresponds more to what all we have done together than to what he is as a person.
The first time I saw Dibyendu, he was leaning on the balcony of his first-floor quarter – a chubby kid with a square face. We were in 6th or 7th then. The person next to me said: “He is in your class. Don’t you know him?” and I replied: “I have seen him in school but we have never been in the same section.” Who knew then that we would be spending the next 9 years of our lives living close to each-other !
The next time I saw him was on our first day in std. 8/B when I realized that he was in the same section as me. We used to sit at almost opposite ends of the classroom and for the first 1-2 months we never even talked. Dibyendu used to be a quiet guy who generally wouldn’t start a discussion but would have a lot to say if you managed to make him join in. One day, I went over to his table once for some reason (I don’t remember what) and we started talking. I had lunch with his gang of friends that day because my gang was absent that day. This was how I came in contact with the others – Raj, Ravi, Drolia, Sid – to name a few. I came to know that Raj n Dib were friends from std. 1 and it made feel a tinge of jealousy.
Dib was a highly emotional person then. Even I made him cry once over something very trivial although I had not imagined the effect it would have on him. I felt guilty the whole day. We would hang out together during the breaks, used to play our version of squash (with our legs and a cosco ball) during lunches. We even used to gossip sometimes during class – by signaling each-other from the opposite ends of the classroom.
I started going to school with him, mostly because his house was on my way to school. Raj did the same because he practically lived next door to Dib. Dib was the quintessential late-latif. We would reach his home and call him so loudly that the whole block heard and after a delay of a few minutes Dib would come out: “Ruk,joota pehen rahe hain.” If we didn’t call him but went to his house in stead, he would invariably be having his breakfast and we would have to sit and watch his eat, coaxing him to eat quickly. Despite all this, we somehow managed to reach school in the nick of time, everytime. After school, we would cycle to his house and the three of us would stand there talking for a long time. Sometimes our discussions got so prolonged that my mom got worried about my safety.
We used to look forward to eating at Dib’s home because his mom is a wonderful cook. I still cheerfully accept any offers of eating at his place without even the requisite decency of saying: “Mummy gussa hongi. Unhone khana bana rakha hai.”
In std. 9/D even Raj was in the same section as us. We could be found sitting and talking in class throughout the year. Raj and Dib were always arguing about something and I mostly used to be the referee. This scenario is true even today. I was always the bookish guy who scored the best marks in class while Raj was the walking encyclopedia with a few facts and an opinion about any damn thing under the sun. Dib also had his opinions but they were not so rigid although he tried his best to defend them. None of us in 9/D will ever forget the day we were suspended and how much fun we had that day and the next. The first time I celebrated my birthday was in 9th, just because these guys used to celebrate theirs and I used to be invited.
In 10/A I was pleasantly surprised to find Dib by my side again, although we were sorry that Raj wasn’t. Dib seemed to be living in another world and his entirely misdirected statements at random moments of time gave him the nickname – Bewda( Drunkard) in 10th. He acquired this nick courtesy Mantosh during our geography project in 10th.The name stuck for the remaining time in school and some people still refer to him as Bewda. We used to play foolish games in our English class. One of them was to try and hold your breath for the maximum possible time. Others included Hangman and pen-fight. Then came our board exams. None of us knew exactly how important they were or how far they would help us in getting a good career. We just knew that we were supposed to take them very seriously. So during our winter vacations, we started joint studies – which continued upto our 1st year in Kgp and still take place if we have a common course. We would be sitting in Raj’s home most of the time and solving last year question papers (most of the time we simply talked) while Raj’s mom would bring us something to eat. Till 10th Dib had a bicycle that would break your back if you rode if for even 15 minutes. Dib was always looking for an opportunity to grab your bicycle and make you ride his.
We broke quite a lot of things at each-other’s place in those days. I remember breaking Raj’s spectacles twice and Dib’s watch once. Raj broke Dib’s magnet for which Dib is yet to forgive him. And the three of us together broke Raj’s old bed.
By the end of 10th we had decided that we would be pursuing mathematics with the aim of appearing for JEE and enrolled in tuitions for the same. We used to have physics tuition at 5 in the morning for about a month and Dib used to be late for that to, making us late as well. Even in those classes we used to talk a lot. Our physics sir still says that we were the most talkative people he had seen in his class who were able to clear JEE in their first attempt. We attended the same tuitions for those 2 years. We even had a single set of books from which we prepared for JEE. If a new book was to be bought, we would contribute equally to it and most probably all three of us would go to buy it and name it RAD !!
The travel to-and-fro tuitions needs some explaining. All three of us could drive a two-wheeler but the problem was that we had at most one two-wheeler among us at any given time (sometimes it was zero and we had to rely on our bicycles). So 2 of us would be sitting on the vehicle while the third would be on his bicycle, holding the hand of the pillion rider and going at the speed of the vehicle without pedaling. We did this for 2 whole years without any accidents and God only knows how many kilometers I have ridden that way. I remember once I was on the bicycle when Raj told me that we were going at 60+ kmph. Also, while returning from the tuition we would stop at the Ram Mandir (a nearby market) and have snacks like samosas, egg rolls, chowmein etc. This was an everyday event and soon all the vendors knew us by face and by name. Even now, when we have been out of Bokaro for about 4 years, they recognize us when we go to them.
Dib was in my section in 11th and 12th too and Raj again wasn’t. Those 2 years at school rank high among the most memorable times of my life. We had a lot of fun in school as well as outside school. We made many more good friends like Shanky, Roop, Nidhi, Payel, etc. We had a lot of parties in those 2 years – leaving home at 9 in the morning and reaching home at 5 or 6 or even 7 in the evening. Our moms used to have a field day scolding us. Dib and I used to sit side-by-side and we would be solving mathematics in physics class or physics in the english class or just sitting and talking – disturbing the others and the teacher. One of our teachers even scolded us, saying: “You are good students but it doesn’t mean that you have already secured seats in IIT. Behave properly.” We had a good laugh about him after that class. We took to playing badminton in the evenings with other friends from school and used to play late into the night, lingering around even after it was too dark to see the shuttle. We usually studied at Dib’s place because he had room for his own and spent many of our nights there too.
We wrote our JEE mains exam on the 22nd of May and the next two months passed in a haze of peace. With nothing else to do, we usually ended up sitting and chatting at Dib’s place. We had decided that we would join the same institute if all 3 of us qualified. When the results came, we decided that Kgp would be the best option for us because I could get a good department at this place only given my rank was much worse than Raj’s or Dib’s.
In the 1st year, Raj and Dib were allotted MMM while I was in MS. MMM didn’t have net or a mess at that time. So, these guys used to be at my room most of the time. Sometimes, when I entered my room I would find a total stranger sitting there and then Raj or Dib would come and introduce him as a friend of his. Dib and Raj started learning tennis and guitar while I did none of these. Dib seems to have outgrown the guitar now but his dedication to tennis is still intact, in fact it has increased. I did more work for MMM illu than I did for MS because of these guys.
In the 2nd year, Dib and I were allotted the same hall – Azad while Raj got RK. Naturally, we became roomies. Dib worked a lot in illu even in that year and the 3rd and 4th years although his statement after every illu is: “Agle baar to hum poora peace maarenge. Kuchh nahi karenge.” He worked so hard in the 2nd year that he fell ill on the day after Diwali and I had to get him admitted to BCRoy.
In the 3rd year we got separate rooms and he currently lives in the room beside mine. We have spent a lot of memorable times since then too.
Dib is always ready to help anyone. He cycled all the way to Gopali to confirm a rumor that a blood donation camp was going to be held there (although he has never managed to donate blood for different reasons). He was the most active guy in the group when we were collecting funds in the institute for a leukemia patient. He was with me whenever I needed help – from emotional to financial. If you are a friend of his, he will never let you down – whatever the circumstances. Even his judgment has improved over the years.
His favorite pastime at home is sleeping throughout the day. There has not been a single time when I reached his house in the afternoon and he was awake. (A note to would-be girlfriends: He sleeps with 4-5 pillows around him so unless you are as soft as a pillow, you might get kicked out.)
Now he has been placed in NTPC and has less than a month before he leaves Kgp. I have seen Dib grow from a chubby boy who was a little low on common sense to a grown-up with sincerity, determination and a way of accommodating himself to almost any circumstance. I have not only watched him grow, I have grown up with him and everything I am today owes a part to him.
Raj’s Part
Now reading all this by Abhay has made me a bit SENTO and though my English sucks in comparison to Abhay’s I will have to write something.
Now writing about Dib is a bit strange partly because I have never attempted this before and partly I cannot even think of a time when I was not with this guy. To make things clear I have been with this guy for last 16 years of my life !!! So what I am, who I am and what I do are all in some ways related to Dib.
I first knew this guy in standard 1 when I got admission in St. Xavier’s school, Bokaro. He used to live just next to my block in sector 1/C but we used to go school in different rickshaws in the beginning. So Dib was this chubby guy, looked very studious and was sincere and clean urban kid. I had come from a village recently, I was dirty, not good in English and an outspoken kid and evidently I was not very good in studies!! So I knew this guy, used to talk to him sometimes but we were not very close until we were in the standard 3. He lived so close to my house and we played together in the evenings and it so happened that he played in my block more than in his own place and also played cricket matches as a player from my block, so living near and playing together brought us quite close and by std 4 we used to spend all our time in school together. I remember in std 4 how I used to rush to his class every break time in school and we would eat together and the play together. By this time we were already the best of friends spending a lot of time together and influencing each-other , I think I started to study a bit because of him and my results dramatically improved from standard 4 .
I have so many thoughts when I think of him so many that I myself cannot recount all of them now. In middle school we spent time like this together - going to school together, playing together in breaks and them coming back and playing again together in my block or in the nearby fields. I went to his home regularly and ate in his home a lot of times and sometimes stayed whole day there and still we were so different in many respects and its true still, the main thing is that though we influenced each-other a lot we never tried to change each other, we always accepted the ways we were and accommodate to it. It was so simple to do this with him and now when I think of it it’s so amazing.
We were growing up together and thinking about talking about our dreams and aspirations and sharing all our thoughts. I started going to school on a cycle by end of std 6 and he joined in soon with his antique hero ranger. We formed our own cricket team in the school. He started taking more interest in sports and other outdoor activities with me and I was doing better in my studies. By the time we passed our Middle school we had been in the same section for last 3 years, we both were considered to be good in studies, we both were improving in sports and we both were closer than ever.
We entered High school in different sections but with same dreams of doing well in studies and achieving something in our life. Dib was always more moral than me , he always has had a sense of responsibility and his firm resolve to be correct and do good has always influenced me a lot. This guy was getting an imposing character with an imposing physique. He soon became one of the taller guys in our school and also one of the most respected. At this time we found some new friends who came as close as we already were, Abhay and Ravi. Ravi was different, very different. He had a charm about him, very sophisticated yet very humble, very intelligent and yet eager to learn more and more. Abhay was different from all of us , he is the most modest of us and yet the most intelligent , not very assertive yet very firm in his believes and his deeds. We became really good friends especially Abhay, Dib and me partly because we shared so much with each other, all our thoughts, all our feelings it was just amazing. High school was great. We had lots and lots of fun but strangely no girls were a part of this :P. Dib and me had decided that girls are just a distraction and waste of time so we hardly talked to any girls though lately I have come to known that a lot of our batch mates had crush on Dib. .
After this it’s now a Raj and Abhay story and my story would be same as been told by Abhay.
There are a few more aspects from my point of view.
After board exams we had just one goal and that was IIT and we were going to achieve it together. We started studying for it in just a few days after our board exams and I remember that we got the books together from Rita madam’s house and studying H.C.Verma in my house together. We took all our tuitions together, we went to school together; we ate in Ram Mandir together, we would hang around with our friends together, we went to buy books together and also studied together. It was just great, all the time spent were together it was so much fun. Even studying was fun and even in that we three were so different. Abhay was inarguably the sharpest among us, he would just do a problem Dib and I would be trying all that and get the answer but then Dib would question his about how he got the answer and always Abhay would fail to tell, and at last when we three would have spent a lot of time on it and broke our heads on the problem it would turnout that Abhay was correct, just that he was not able to explain :P . Group study was great, it combined the strength of the three of us and weeded out our shortcomings. I really think I would never had made it to IIT without them simply because I am so restless and cannot concentrate for long.
It was not only studies, we enjoyed our time in junior college a lot. I became the Vice-Captain of school and we made a lot of new friends. Actually we formed TTA and we are still good friends with a lot of them. I learned how to talk with girls and fell in love. We always kept each-other in balance and always complemented each other and Dib was like the most stable version of the three of us - would keep us grounded and focused and rarely was seen excited.
All the time that we spent together brings a smile to me and really makes me believe that till now I have had a good life because I had these friends. I certainly owe a lot to them and even now when we don’t spend much time together and will be separated soon I feel they are always near me because they are so close to my heart. I hope both my friends are successful in life and make me proud. Though we will be together for all our life.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
For Rohit
I didn’t know you. I wouldn’t have known if you sat beside me sometime at Billoo’s or Chhedi’s. I wouldn’t have recognized you if I saw in the Insti or in the Dep – I wouldn’t even have noticed you. The only time I might have heard your name, I would have been booing at you – coz you would have been playing for LLR - against Azad.
But you were one of us. You belonged to this place, like I do. You were a person who would have spent 4-5 of the best years of your life in the god-forsaken place, just like me. You too would have bunked classes, just like me. You too would have murmured comments about Profs while sitting in class, just like me. You too would have wondered what you will do after you get out of this place, just like me. You too would have spent nights watching movies or in bhaatbaazi with friends, like I do. You too would have uttered abuses to seniors under your breath because they made you participate in events you wouldn’t have wanted to, just like me. And all this would have been sufficient to grow a bond between us if we had met at a future date.
And now you are not with us. All it took was a fall from a rickshaw to take you away from us. Everyone who knew how bad the system was and still didn’t do anything about it is a culprit – including me. I sincerely hope our reaction over the last two days will not peter out to a dead end but will continue till there really is a change in the system. Only then will I be able to redeem myself from the guilt of your untimely departure.
But you were one of us. You belonged to this place, like I do. You were a person who would have spent 4-5 of the best years of your life in the god-forsaken place, just like me. You too would have bunked classes, just like me. You too would have murmured comments about Profs while sitting in class, just like me. You too would have wondered what you will do after you get out of this place, just like me. You too would have spent nights watching movies or in bhaatbaazi with friends, like I do. You too would have uttered abuses to seniors under your breath because they made you participate in events you wouldn’t have wanted to, just like me. And all this would have been sufficient to grow a bond between us if we had met at a future date.
And now you are not with us. All it took was a fall from a rickshaw to take you away from us. Everyone who knew how bad the system was and still didn’t do anything about it is a culprit – including me. I sincerely hope our reaction over the last two days will not peter out to a dead end but will continue till there really is a change in the system. Only then will I be able to redeem myself from the guilt of your untimely departure.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
The Accident
I think I have borrowed this idea from some detective serial but since I don't remember which one, i won't hazard a guess.
It had been a good day at office and he was returning home with a smile on his face. His wife would be waiting for him, and his kids. It was past midnight, he had gotten late today but it had been worth the effort. So, now he was enjoying the empty roads at full speed on his bike with the wind in his face.
He was crossing an empty stretch with just trees and rocks on both sides when he saw the car coming from the opposite direction. It was coming straight at him and the driver showed no sign of giving him room to maneuver himself out of the way. The vehicles collided at full speed. The last thing he remembered was a feeling of flying through the air.
It was still dark when he woke up. He was not in pain. He simply felt as if he had gone numb. He tried to open his eyes. He was successful. He tried to move his head around. He found that it was possible to a small extent. But all his attempts failed when he tried to get up. He also found that he couldn’t even cry out for help. “Seems I will have to stay this way till someone finds me. Surely someone would come looking soon-my bike would be lying somewhere nearby. And what about the driver of the car? That bastard. If I see him I will kill him with my bare hands. Just having a car doesn’t give you ownership of the road.” he thought.
He was thinking in this vein when he thought he heard voices. The voices were coming towards him. On listening carefully, he could recognize two voices – a man and a woman. He thanked God that somebody had come to save him. So he lay as he was – listening to their conversation.
Man: Are you OK? Should I get you a doctor?
Woman: No, I am fine. What about you?
Man: I have escaped injuries too. But I guess that can’t be said about my car too. It is going to burn a hole in my pocket.
Woman: What about the guy on the bike? Where is he? How come he hit us? Didn’t you see him coming?
Man (chuckling): I was too busy kissing you to look towards the road.
Woman: You should have been more cautious. What if we had been seriously injured?
Man: Oh come on! It’s just a small accident. That guy might have been knocked unconscious. We’ll find him, wake him up, put him back on his bike and then go home.
It was the woman who found him. Now that he could see her, he realized that she was a quite young. They were a young couple, probably not even married yet. The girl was crying now. She was saying, “He isn’t moving. Is he seriously injured? Is he dead? Oh God! What shall we do?”
He saw the man point a light towards him. He looked at the light. The man heaved a sigh of relief. He said,”Hey, are you OK? Look I’m sorry. It was my fault. I’ll pay for the damage to your vehicle. Do you need help getting up? Come on, I’ll help you to your bike. It is still good enough to take you home. Why don’t you get up? Why don’t you say anything? “
He could imagine the man’s expression changing when, after trying to help him get up, he couldn’t elicit a single response. The man directed the light towards his face again to check if he really was alive. Meanwhile, the girl was sitting nearby and crying quietly. “We have a problem here.” the man said.
They went out of earshot. He could still see their silhouettes against the headlights of their car out of the corner of his eyes. He saw the girl gasp when, as he imagined, the man told her that he could not move. He could see that they were arguing about something. “Perhaps they are thinking which hospital would be nearest.” he thought.
Now the argument was taking longer than necessary – the girl had started crying again. “What are they doing? Don’t they know that if they do not take me to a hospital soon I might die? And then they will have a lot of trouble on their hands.” he thought. Finally, he saw them kiss – as if the man was trying to tell the girl that he would handle everything and that everything would be all right.
The man came back alone. The girl was still standing near the car. In a flash, he understood what was going to happen and the knowledge blinded him. He didn’t know why they were doing it but he realized that he was going to die very soon and that his death would be an accident. Even the blame for the accident would lie on him. And all he could do was plead with his eyes to a face that would not even look at him.
His eyes were saying, “No, I am not greatly injured. Leave me here and go away – I won’t tell anyone anything. I’ll just say that I hit something and fell. Or better, stay here and I’ll take responsibility for the accident. I’ll even pay for the damages to your car. But please don’t do this. Please don’t kill me. Don’t be afraid of me. I will not cause the two of you any harm.” But there was no one to listen to him or look into his eyes as the man lifted a heavy stone and brought it near his head.
In the last moments of his life, his prayer to the man of being left alone turned into a different prayer addressed to God. In the last moments of his life, he prayed for an intelligent inspector.
Inspector Singh, who was the first to reach the spot of the accident, was not very intelligent but he certainly wasn’t dumb. He looked at the dead body lying in a pool of blood and the rock, with blood on it, on which the person, now dead, had hit his head – the cause of death – when he had been thrown off the bike. He looked at the young couple who had called him up saying that they had met with an accident and that someone had died.
He said, addressing the girl, “Every rock that lies on the ground has two surfaces. One that is exposed to the weather and is generally clean. The other side is the one that lies facing the ground – gathering moss and mud. Now, can you tell me, in what way was this person thrown off so that he hit his head on the unexposed surface of the rock?”
It had been a good day at office and he was returning home with a smile on his face. His wife would be waiting for him, and his kids. It was past midnight, he had gotten late today but it had been worth the effort. So, now he was enjoying the empty roads at full speed on his bike with the wind in his face.
He was crossing an empty stretch with just trees and rocks on both sides when he saw the car coming from the opposite direction. It was coming straight at him and the driver showed no sign of giving him room to maneuver himself out of the way. The vehicles collided at full speed. The last thing he remembered was a feeling of flying through the air.
It was still dark when he woke up. He was not in pain. He simply felt as if he had gone numb. He tried to open his eyes. He was successful. He tried to move his head around. He found that it was possible to a small extent. But all his attempts failed when he tried to get up. He also found that he couldn’t even cry out for help. “Seems I will have to stay this way till someone finds me. Surely someone would come looking soon-my bike would be lying somewhere nearby. And what about the driver of the car? That bastard. If I see him I will kill him with my bare hands. Just having a car doesn’t give you ownership of the road.” he thought.
He was thinking in this vein when he thought he heard voices. The voices were coming towards him. On listening carefully, he could recognize two voices – a man and a woman. He thanked God that somebody had come to save him. So he lay as he was – listening to their conversation.
Man: Are you OK? Should I get you a doctor?
Woman: No, I am fine. What about you?
Man: I have escaped injuries too. But I guess that can’t be said about my car too. It is going to burn a hole in my pocket.
Woman: What about the guy on the bike? Where is he? How come he hit us? Didn’t you see him coming?
Man (chuckling): I was too busy kissing you to look towards the road.
Woman: You should have been more cautious. What if we had been seriously injured?
Man: Oh come on! It’s just a small accident. That guy might have been knocked unconscious. We’ll find him, wake him up, put him back on his bike and then go home.
It was the woman who found him. Now that he could see her, he realized that she was a quite young. They were a young couple, probably not even married yet. The girl was crying now. She was saying, “He isn’t moving. Is he seriously injured? Is he dead? Oh God! What shall we do?”
He saw the man point a light towards him. He looked at the light. The man heaved a sigh of relief. He said,”Hey, are you OK? Look I’m sorry. It was my fault. I’ll pay for the damage to your vehicle. Do you need help getting up? Come on, I’ll help you to your bike. It is still good enough to take you home. Why don’t you get up? Why don’t you say anything? “
He could imagine the man’s expression changing when, after trying to help him get up, he couldn’t elicit a single response. The man directed the light towards his face again to check if he really was alive. Meanwhile, the girl was sitting nearby and crying quietly. “We have a problem here.” the man said.
They went out of earshot. He could still see their silhouettes against the headlights of their car out of the corner of his eyes. He saw the girl gasp when, as he imagined, the man told her that he could not move. He could see that they were arguing about something. “Perhaps they are thinking which hospital would be nearest.” he thought.
Now the argument was taking longer than necessary – the girl had started crying again. “What are they doing? Don’t they know that if they do not take me to a hospital soon I might die? And then they will have a lot of trouble on their hands.” he thought. Finally, he saw them kiss – as if the man was trying to tell the girl that he would handle everything and that everything would be all right.
The man came back alone. The girl was still standing near the car. In a flash, he understood what was going to happen and the knowledge blinded him. He didn’t know why they were doing it but he realized that he was going to die very soon and that his death would be an accident. Even the blame for the accident would lie on him. And all he could do was plead with his eyes to a face that would not even look at him.
His eyes were saying, “No, I am not greatly injured. Leave me here and go away – I won’t tell anyone anything. I’ll just say that I hit something and fell. Or better, stay here and I’ll take responsibility for the accident. I’ll even pay for the damages to your car. But please don’t do this. Please don’t kill me. Don’t be afraid of me. I will not cause the two of you any harm.” But there was no one to listen to him or look into his eyes as the man lifted a heavy stone and brought it near his head.
In the last moments of his life, his prayer to the man of being left alone turned into a different prayer addressed to God. In the last moments of his life, he prayed for an intelligent inspector.
Inspector Singh, who was the first to reach the spot of the accident, was not very intelligent but he certainly wasn’t dumb. He looked at the dead body lying in a pool of blood and the rock, with blood on it, on which the person, now dead, had hit his head – the cause of death – when he had been thrown off the bike. He looked at the young couple who had called him up saying that they had met with an accident and that someone had died.
He said, addressing the girl, “Every rock that lies on the ground has two surfaces. One that is exposed to the weather and is generally clean. The other side is the one that lies facing the ground – gathering moss and mud. Now, can you tell me, in what way was this person thrown off so that he hit his head on the unexposed surface of the rock?”
Friday, February 27, 2009
Maybe Someday
Maybe someday I’ll forget you. And maybe someday I’ll forgive you. Forgive you for messing up my life. Forgive you for showing me love and joy and then leaving me mid-way – pining for you and all that you said would be ours. Forgive you for all the dreams that we shared. Forgive you for all the memories that I still have of you, which are like burning embers in my mind – giving me constant agony. Forgive you for all my unshed tears and unspoken words. Forgive you for all the solitary moments I’ve spent thinking of you. Forgive you for making me curse myself, thinking that it was entirely my fault.
Maybe someday I’ll be able to meet another girl and not compare her to you. Maybe someday I’ll not think of you when I see or read a love story. Maybe someday, when I want to share something, I won’t think of you. Maybe someday, if I want to speak my heart out, I won’t expect you to be the listener.
And maybe someday I’ll be able to look at you, talk to you and not feel something burning inside me. Maybe someday I’ll be able to ask you why you did this to me.
But, till that day my love, stay away from me.
Maybe someday I’ll be able to meet another girl and not compare her to you. Maybe someday I’ll not think of you when I see or read a love story. Maybe someday, when I want to share something, I won’t think of you. Maybe someday, if I want to speak my heart out, I won’t expect you to be the listener.
And maybe someday I’ll be able to look at you, talk to you and not feel something burning inside me. Maybe someday I’ll be able to ask you why you did this to me.
But, till that day my love, stay away from me.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Soul-Retriever
Let me tell you that working as a soul-retriever for the God of Death is not very fulfilling. The pay isn’t good and you have to stay at work 24X7 with no leaves. Moreover, it is a thankless job – you can’t expect a god to thank you, even if he is your immediate senior, and no human would ever thank you for snatching away his soul and bringing him to his not-so-heavenly abode. You might find the last part of my previous statement a little dubious given that I work in the Suicides Department. After all, these people have given up their souls voluntarily, so they should be happy when I arrive to fetch them – you would think, but let me tell you that it is not so. In fact, they are the people who rue being brought here the most. This is due to the standard procedure set by my predecessors in this department. I shall tell you an incident when I was just a trainee here for your better understanding.
First let me tell you that the soul that resides inside you is not “complete” in the exact sense of the term. It wasn’t complete even when you were born and has been broken into many fragments since. A fragment of your soul breaks apart when you find someone you love and who love you back and it goes to reside with that person’s soul. It is this fragment that makes that other person think of you and have goodwill towards you. So, since your parents loved you even before you were born, a fragment of your soul resides with them from before your birth. In fact, it has been residing in them since you were assigned a soul. I will talk about the details of soul-assigning some other time – let me concentrate on this part first. So, in short, the no. of fragments of your soul depends on how many lives you have affected in a positive way or how many people love you and the size of that fragment depends upon how much they love you.
When a person dies, we have to collect all the pieces of his soul before we can bring him back. Now, the standard procedure for our department is that we make the soul look for his fragments himself as a punishment for committing suicide (and increasing our workload).
It so happened that I was assigned the task of bringing back the soul of a young twenty-something guy. He had committed suicide by jumping off a tall building because he had been fired from his job for something which he didn’t consider to be his fault. The soul was sitting near the dead body when I reached. He was pretty happy to see me come. He said, “Now I can finally rest in peace.” and extended his hands towards me as if I was going to handcuff him.
“Not so soon son, we still have work to do.” I told him. Then I explained to him the standard procedure to be followed. He was unfazed at this. I took out my pack of cigarettes, handed him the device that we use to guide us to the fragments of any particular soul and told him to get on with his job while I sat and smoked. (I did not know then that I should go along with him – an oversight that almost cost me my training stipend.)
A full 24 hours and two packets of fags later, when he did not arrive I began to get worried. I got afraid because losing a soul on the way invites divine wrath, something I didn’t want to face. So I decided to look for him for a day before I contacted my guide.
To make a long story short (because this is not the important part) I found him weeping quietly in the attic of his parents’ home after a prolonged search. He got afraid when he saw me and started begging, saying, “I know I can’t run away from you. Please allow me to stay here as long as possible, I don’t want to go. I shouldn’t have committed suicide in the first place. Can you please give me life once again? I promise I won’t do anything of this sort again.” and so on. I had to shake him for a long time to get him out of his hysterics. Then I asked him what had happened that transformed him from a soul happy to leave to one that would like to bear the torments of earthly life once again. This is what he told me.
“The first place I went to was my girlfriend’s. She was asleep in her room. Entering that room reminded me of all the happy moments that we had spent there. She was sleeping with a book curled in her hand. I noticed that even while sleeping she doesn’t take out the necklace I had given her as a gift long ago. I also noticed, for the first time, that she has a picture of us tucked under her pillow. Using your device, I could see that she loves me a lot – much more than I had imagined. That was the first time I wondered whether I had made a mistake.”
“After that I went to my friends’ places. Although I found a few people who had only professed their friendship at my face, my friends on a whole liked me a lot. I also noticed that my school and college friends loved me more than my colleagues and this amazed me a lot, given that I had not tried a lot to keep in touch with them. It broke my heart to say goodbye to all of my friends one-by-one. I realized for the first time how much I had been loved and now I was sure that I had made a mistake by committing suicide. Still I would have gone with you if you had come there but you didn’t.”
“I arrived last at this place – partly because it is far from where I lived or rather, died, and partly because I had begun to realize how hard it would be for me to bid my parents farewell. When I arrived, my parents were still awake and they were talking about me. Mom was saying, “But what will he do now?” to which Dad replied, “Don’t you worry. Our son is very intelligent; he will find a better job pretty soon. “
Mom: “But what will he do in the meantime? How will he sustain himself? He is used to spending twenty-thirty thousand every month; he doesn’t have any savings worth mentioning.”
Dad: “Does he know that I get twenty thousand as my salary?”
Mom:”I don’t think so.”
Dad:”OK. Then we shall send him fifteen every month. I think he can manage with that much for the time being. If he asks how much I get, tell him that I get thirty so that he won’t feel guilty about it. We can live pretty comfortably with the remaining but he must stay there and look for a job. If he comes back to this small town, he will never find a job suitable to his qualifications and his talent will be wasted. I don’t want this to happen. We should do whatever it takes to keep him there.”
And with this Dad laid the matter to rest and my parents went to sleep. Mom looked as if a burden had been lifted from her head. None of them said one single word about how they would manage with a meager five thousand a month even when both of them know that half of it would have be spent for Mom’s medicines. It was at that moment that I realized how good it really is to be alive; to be loved and cared for by so many people who are ready to do anything for you; to have someone who will think of you no matter what happens or how low you stand on the social ladder; to breathe in the knowledge that, although it may not seem so, someone is thinking of you at this very moment; to have people ready to sacrifice their comforts for your own. Now I don’t want to die. I wish I had never taken this step. Can you please give me life back? I swear I won’t do anything so foolish again. Please….”
With this he broke into the most pitiable crying I had ever seen. Now, I can’t say I was not moved by his story but there was nothing to be done. I had to handcuff him and carry him all the way to my office while he kept on screaming and trying to persuade me to let him free all the time.
Can you guess why I told you this story? Obviously to help me decrease my workload. What else could the motive have been?
First let me tell you that the soul that resides inside you is not “complete” in the exact sense of the term. It wasn’t complete even when you were born and has been broken into many fragments since. A fragment of your soul breaks apart when you find someone you love and who love you back and it goes to reside with that person’s soul. It is this fragment that makes that other person think of you and have goodwill towards you. So, since your parents loved you even before you were born, a fragment of your soul resides with them from before your birth. In fact, it has been residing in them since you were assigned a soul. I will talk about the details of soul-assigning some other time – let me concentrate on this part first. So, in short, the no. of fragments of your soul depends on how many lives you have affected in a positive way or how many people love you and the size of that fragment depends upon how much they love you.
When a person dies, we have to collect all the pieces of his soul before we can bring him back. Now, the standard procedure for our department is that we make the soul look for his fragments himself as a punishment for committing suicide (and increasing our workload).
It so happened that I was assigned the task of bringing back the soul of a young twenty-something guy. He had committed suicide by jumping off a tall building because he had been fired from his job for something which he didn’t consider to be his fault. The soul was sitting near the dead body when I reached. He was pretty happy to see me come. He said, “Now I can finally rest in peace.” and extended his hands towards me as if I was going to handcuff him.
“Not so soon son, we still have work to do.” I told him. Then I explained to him the standard procedure to be followed. He was unfazed at this. I took out my pack of cigarettes, handed him the device that we use to guide us to the fragments of any particular soul and told him to get on with his job while I sat and smoked. (I did not know then that I should go along with him – an oversight that almost cost me my training stipend.)
A full 24 hours and two packets of fags later, when he did not arrive I began to get worried. I got afraid because losing a soul on the way invites divine wrath, something I didn’t want to face. So I decided to look for him for a day before I contacted my guide.
To make a long story short (because this is not the important part) I found him weeping quietly in the attic of his parents’ home after a prolonged search. He got afraid when he saw me and started begging, saying, “I know I can’t run away from you. Please allow me to stay here as long as possible, I don’t want to go. I shouldn’t have committed suicide in the first place. Can you please give me life once again? I promise I won’t do anything of this sort again.” and so on. I had to shake him for a long time to get him out of his hysterics. Then I asked him what had happened that transformed him from a soul happy to leave to one that would like to bear the torments of earthly life once again. This is what he told me.
“The first place I went to was my girlfriend’s. She was asleep in her room. Entering that room reminded me of all the happy moments that we had spent there. She was sleeping with a book curled in her hand. I noticed that even while sleeping she doesn’t take out the necklace I had given her as a gift long ago. I also noticed, for the first time, that she has a picture of us tucked under her pillow. Using your device, I could see that she loves me a lot – much more than I had imagined. That was the first time I wondered whether I had made a mistake.”
“After that I went to my friends’ places. Although I found a few people who had only professed their friendship at my face, my friends on a whole liked me a lot. I also noticed that my school and college friends loved me more than my colleagues and this amazed me a lot, given that I had not tried a lot to keep in touch with them. It broke my heart to say goodbye to all of my friends one-by-one. I realized for the first time how much I had been loved and now I was sure that I had made a mistake by committing suicide. Still I would have gone with you if you had come there but you didn’t.”
“I arrived last at this place – partly because it is far from where I lived or rather, died, and partly because I had begun to realize how hard it would be for me to bid my parents farewell. When I arrived, my parents were still awake and they were talking about me. Mom was saying, “But what will he do now?” to which Dad replied, “Don’t you worry. Our son is very intelligent; he will find a better job pretty soon. “
Mom: “But what will he do in the meantime? How will he sustain himself? He is used to spending twenty-thirty thousand every month; he doesn’t have any savings worth mentioning.”
Dad: “Does he know that I get twenty thousand as my salary?”
Mom:”I don’t think so.”
Dad:”OK. Then we shall send him fifteen every month. I think he can manage with that much for the time being. If he asks how much I get, tell him that I get thirty so that he won’t feel guilty about it. We can live pretty comfortably with the remaining but he must stay there and look for a job. If he comes back to this small town, he will never find a job suitable to his qualifications and his talent will be wasted. I don’t want this to happen. We should do whatever it takes to keep him there.”
And with this Dad laid the matter to rest and my parents went to sleep. Mom looked as if a burden had been lifted from her head. None of them said one single word about how they would manage with a meager five thousand a month even when both of them know that half of it would have be spent for Mom’s medicines. It was at that moment that I realized how good it really is to be alive; to be loved and cared for by so many people who are ready to do anything for you; to have someone who will think of you no matter what happens or how low you stand on the social ladder; to breathe in the knowledge that, although it may not seem so, someone is thinking of you at this very moment; to have people ready to sacrifice their comforts for your own. Now I don’t want to die. I wish I had never taken this step. Can you please give me life back? I swear I won’t do anything so foolish again. Please….”
With this he broke into the most pitiable crying I had ever seen. Now, I can’t say I was not moved by his story but there was nothing to be done. I had to handcuff him and carry him all the way to my office while he kept on screaming and trying to persuade me to let him free all the time.
Can you guess why I told you this story? Obviously to help me decrease my workload. What else could the motive have been?
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