The premier of a state is sitting in lustrously dark furnished office pondering and brain storming over the speech he delivered to the nation today. The secretary, a high ranking bureaucrat seeks permission to enter the office . The man in office asks him to get in without speaking a word. The secretary says- excellent sir your speech was a wonderful exhibition as a leader, visionary and orator of an independent nation. The premier acknowledges just with a nod of head and continues to look into the blank.Is something bothering you sir, can I be of any help. No answers just a humble stare, his eyes and eyebrows pointing down as he knows about the realities hiding in the speech. Then, he asks, how far have we achieved from last years speech? The secretary says- A lot sir, but tries to avoid eye contact. The boss says “yes a lot!” with sarcasm on himself, “the economic growth rate is down to near abyss, the poverty has reduced only if we modify the some definitions, social security is almost negligible, corruption is rampant, only index touching sky is deficit and inflation and I am helpless. You know I am loosing the guts to face the people.”The secretary is quite and sympathetic to his boss. Says the secretary- is it just your fault sir, were you corrupt? Did you plunge the economy this way? Did you redefine terms? were you involved in any natural calamity or crimes? You brought the economy onto the track when it was completely derailed. The premier looks at him and says- You ! What you are saying is like telling a chef that he did not spoil the cuisine but it was the oven. Could you tell this to the people? The secretary was quite. The premier continues- I want to act against corruption, bring economy to surge, a sense of security among people but I cannot. I am a hapless head of this well off state. The state found its freedom 67 years ago when will I find mine.With all due respect sir its not about you. This is how politics works in the country. You are doing everything that leaders have been doing so far in the country with few exceptions. It not you who has to change, but the people. The politicos just use this nature of people. The past has witnessed it and if nothing changes the future will see the same.Ok sir we could talk about some future plans that we have for the country. The premier looks amazed and pleased. But then he gets frustrated and complains-You have some plans, you did not tell me, no one tells me anything and now even you ! The secretary replies-No sir its not my plan it will be your plan this time. People of the country themselves don’t know what they want. They still get sectored based on religion, region, caste and several other ‘isms’. They want everything to be in order but when it comes to their own interest they breach everything. You need to show ‘em the way around tell them how to get over these isms. You are the elected leader of the country and you can work it out. The boss gets enthusiastic. The secretary continues- tell people to stop thinking in terms ‘isms’ and get over short term personal interests. Ask your fellow politicians to stop this kind of politics just using it in public speech won’t work. Get strict with corrupt politicians and officers, show them the way out. You are the most powerful person in the country, if you don’t take initiative then who will?The premier still has a doubt. He asks-will people forget the past? Will they start liking me again? The secretary smiles and says – people of the state suffer from selective amnesia, they forget every time a leader that fails them and this time it can be for their betterment. The boss is ecstatic with the motivation. He gears up and say Yes I can, I will bring the change, I will not succumb to political pressure, not listen to corrupt and inefficient officers, I will do what I feel is good for the state. And then the telephone rings, they see a number flashing both are silent, look at each other, the boss gets dull and pensive again.
Hi folks, wish you a HAPPY NEW YEAR…!!!All those who can read this story, survived the Mayan Apocalypse, those who cannot read are trying to survive the hangover from last night. Some of you stayed up last night to witness the arrival of 2013 and some to make sure that 2012 leaves. Last night I found an old lamp, you remember the lamp from the movie ‘Aladdin’, I was happy to have it and started thinking what my three wishes should be. Decided to head back home with the lamp and was excited to imagine how a giant genie magically appears in a cloud of smoke and say ‘Yes my master what can I do for you?, I give you three wishes.’ I was anxious for the moment, will it sound like Robin Williams look like Barbara Eden? I reached home and rubbed the lamp with expectations. I rubbed it once, nothing happened rubbed again no smoke no genie. Tried over again and again but no ‘out come’. In frustration and annoyance I threw the lamp against the wall I was disappointed.Then the cap on the lamp opened, a short and slim humanoid creature coming out of it. “What the hell is this”, I exclaimed and the genie replied “not ‘what’ say who the hell is this? I am the genie of the lamp, you are the one who disturbed my sleep.” You cannot be a genie, I hammered back, no smoky clouds, you are a slim creature. The genie looked at me as if I am a zoo animals and answered, You humans, do you understand anything about pollution, you have already spoiled the planet a lot with smoke we don’t want to add to it’s woes, thats why we avoid smoke now a days. Regarding my slimness it seems my diet plan is working, I am avoiding all the junk fast food. After a pause I said, so I will get my three wishes. On this the genie said the union of genies has decided to reduce their number of wishes from three to two. This has to blamed onto the staggering economy, inflation and cut fiscal deficit. The unoriginality and repetitive nature of the wishes also prompts us for such steps. Now I had fewer options, I thought of seeking the genies advice on what should I ask for? The genie smiled and said I don’t know its you choice, everyone asks for some variation wealth, or power as the first wish, some kind of sex appeal, beautiful men or women; depending on the gender and sexual orientation of the wisher, is the most asked second wish. Although this second wish is a waste; as wealth or power generally gets you the sex you want.” I don’t talk about the third wish as that option is not there anymore. And don’t try to act over smart by asking me for extra wishes as the second one. This will nullify your last wish of having wealth, turning you into a beneficiary of social security system. Since you have asked my advice you have only one wish left, he added.I started pondering about my wish. What should I ask the genie: a fortune of wealth, peace of mind, trouble for enemies, a sexy babe in my side or good health. The clock ticked midnight and the shout and cheer for new year emerged all around. I woke up to the reality, there are no genies, no wishes out of blues. If you want something strive for it, A better world and life comes with your efforts not with genies. Eat drink and be merry,cheers for the new year, happy new year
Hello and Happy New Year
I hope your new year hangover is already over and at least some of you are back to the work-desks, well at least I am. So how did you welcome the year of apocalypse (At least this is what ‘The Mayans’ predicted)? My welcome involved a dream, a dream on this new year eve and I share it here.
Image Source: http://www.desirsdavenir31100.com/It was already late after celebration at 4.00 AM, got into sleep within half an hour. The first phase of dream started somewhere in Mexico. Well not the mexico today but the time when it was ruled by Mayans. I reached a place where a few people were engraving something. I asked them what are you doing folks? Their eyes were half asleep and a jar with some drink lying around, they started laughing at me. Don’t you see we are making a calendar, saying this the man fell to the ground and went into sleep, perhaps he had enough of the peyote drink. They all enjoyed it and poured over one more drink. They smiled, and then offered me a drink too and continued their work. By the time they reached the day Dec 21, 2012 they were too drunk to refrain from sleep. I finished my drink which is supposed to offer psychoactive effect, enlightened me and concluded why the Mayan calendar ends on 21st Dec, 2012. I thought of moving out from there.
In the next stage of my dreams, I reached the set of movie 2012 before anyone, I saw sexy Beatrice Rosen and I thought of ignoring everyone else. But someone interfered (That someone was Roland Emmerich). I approached him and asked about the movie. He answered “it is a movie about the apocalypse in 2012″. I asked out of curiosity, “will it really happen?” He laughed and said who cares as long as it earns me big bucks. My next question was what if it really happens? He winked and said “thats fine I hope this movie earns me enough money to buy a ticket for the life saving ark”. I joined him in his humor with a smile and he got back to his work.
I moved on to next destination. this time it was a meeting between politicians and scientific community. They were discussing about the possibilities of 2012 apocalypse and counter-measures. After the meeting representatives from both sides addressed the media. The scientist asked for more funds to perform their research and studies in this direction and the politicians agreed to it. The money was to be raised by imposing a new tax called apocalypse tax on tax payers.
Suddenly a sweet voice tries to wake me up, oh it 12.30 PM, I know how to seal her lips that yell out sweet voices to wake me up, and pulled over the quilt. No distant thoughts, that sweet voice was my alarm.
Well till now I see no difference. Something like an apocalypse already started last year with revolutions and crisis. May be, by apocalypse the predictors meant these changes happening around.
Any way, Happy New Year again
Here I start with a very short story from the times of global financial crisis.
October 2011, a beautiful greek city close to the mediterranean, looks totally deserted on a sunny day. The country is facing tough times, everyone is in debt, living on credit, be it a person or an organization. Suddenly, a rich tourist from China comes to the city. He enters a hotel, accidentally puts a 100 euro bill (currency bill) on the reception counter, and asks the proprietor if he could inspect the rooms upstairs in order to pick one, the proprietor agrees. The hotel proprietor takes the 100 euro and runs to pay his debt to the butcher. The butcher takes the 100 euro, and runs to pay his debt to the pig-grower. The pig-grower takes the 100 euro, and runs to pay his debt to the supplier of his feed and fuel. The supplier of feed and fuel takes the 100 euro and runs to pay his debt to the town’s prostitute that in these hard times, gave her “services” on credit. The hooker runs to the hotel, and pays off her debt with the 100 euro to the hotel proprietor to pay for the rooms that she rented when she brought her clients there. The hotel proprietor then lays the 100 euro back on the counter so that the rich tourist will not suspect anything. At that moment, the rich tourist comes down after inspecting the rooms, and takes his 100 euro, after saying that he did not like any of the rooms, and leaves town. No one earned anything. However, a big part of the town is now without debt, and looks to the future with a lot of optimism.
So moral of the story is, all it takes to get free from debt is the flow of cash not the cash itself.
Diwali the festival of light, coincides with worship of Lakshmi, goddess of wealth in Indian culture and you observe a huge cash flow. It is the season for gambling, personal gifts, corporate gifts, dry-fruit and liquor sales, expenditure on fireworks and concentrated quarter for sales of consumer goods. Estimates of consumption expenditure are no more than guesses even ignoring sales of retail consumer goods gives a clue to an incremental consumption expenditure approaching USD 20 Billion. Truly, this festival should be the festival of wealth and Diwali. Money is flowing everywhere, from corrupt politicians buying elephant statues or selling telecom spectrums. Even those who are fighting corruption are making it flow by ‘traveling’ and ‘talking’. And this flow of money appreciates or depreciates the hope and development of people and society, depending on its direction of flow. Hope this Diwali, the wealth flow direction changes its course to bring development or at least a hope for development for the people and the society .
Extending my Diwali wishes globally, hopefully this festival also brings prosperity to Libyan people who recently managed to get rid of their dictator, supposedly the richest person they had. The more important thing I wish for them is no rise of another dictator. I also wish some cash flows for the earthquake victims of eastern turkey who are still waiting for the cash flow from their western country mates. Also uncle Sam understands that they cannot control the flow of cash around the world alone, and not at least if they keep on waging wars and being aggressive to other economies or even copying other countries in terms of policies.
Last but not the least I think Englishmen should also thank the Indian “Men in Blue” for paying back the debt that they incurred this summer in cricket. This debt was cleared in a very short span of time with enough interest, wasn’t it incredible? Well the debt in T20 and test is still there, Dhoni and co must keep this in mind.
With this I close my blog, I also have to make the cash flow towards me and go to work, not a holiday for me .
“Best wishes for Diwali”“दीपावली की हार्दिक शुभकामनाओं के साथ”
It’s been almost 20 years. I am back in the town as the district magistrate, where I spent a most of my childhood . I was yet to get the bungalow from the government so had to stay in the guesthouse for the time being. I was being driven in an open SUV to the guesthouse and I could feel the air with an essence of memories. The area looked familiar, a river flowing by, kids playing around. The road now had some potholes opposite to those days, when we could find some road in the potholes. The chauffeur was talkative, addressing me as ‘sahib-ji’ (a substitute for ‘sir’ in Hindi). He was almost 3-5 years elder as it looked from his appearance. Long dense mustache, slightly grown beard and short hairs, well wet with some excessively strong mustard oil and a well-built body. He was happy and tension free, whereas I was not. His (legitimate) income will be around one fifth of what I could earn legally, still he was more satisfied and relaxed. I was not very happy as I had to He was trying to explain me about the town especially temples and the banks of the river with religious importance. To be frank I was getting annoyed and was just trying to be polite by nodding my head in response to his words, some times with a sound “hmm!”Soon we reached the guesthouse, I paid some tip to the chauffeur saying “will fire you if you continue being talkative” within my heart, but the words that came out of my mouth were “you stay here I may go out in the evening”. The housekeepers took my luggage and lead me to my cottage. I gave him some money asked him to get some soft drinks as was the hot and humid month of July and I was not sure if I could get safe drinking water in there. I had more trust in the American cola companies than the motherlands ground water. Any way he went happily to fulfill my orders. I threw my self on the couch peeping out through the wooden window. The river, the temple and sound of bell in the temple, devotional songs being played there. When I was partially lost in nostalgia, I heard a knock on my door, it was the housekeeper with cola. I thanked the housekeeper. Planning to go the bed to have a nap. In order to make my nap go undisturbed, curbing the noise coming from outside was the priority. I moved to the window to shut it. I could get a bigger picture from here. Women entering the temple, with a corner of their saaree called aanchal, on their head after taking a holy dip in the river, some of them pouring the holy water over the Peepul (Sacred fig) tree and kids playing cricket in the ground beside the tree. Peepul tree and cricket! Some memories forced me to look at Peepul again. It is the same peepul tree, as green as it used to be, as thick as it used to be and as sacred as it used to be, it did not seem that it got older.I refuted the idea of closing the widow returned to the couch. Memories coming to my eyes like a Bollywood movie of 80’s. 20 years ago I lived in this town. As the son of district magistrate I had all the luxuries, respect and care. But respect stuff was limited to the grown ups. There is no such thing among the kids. They play together, fight and then play again. No one knows whom is what and neither they care. I use to play cricket with my folks here in the same ground. The shadow of the Peepul tree; use to be our strategy room, dressing room, dugout and celebration arena. I used to dominate the game every time. Not because I was a very good player, but because the playing kit belonged to me. Others had to bear my offenses if they wanted to play and I made full use of it. They have to bowl me out at least twice to really get me out of batting. They have to get out if I am bowling even if they are not. Every time I use to threaten them that I will take my game kit if they do not accept my rules unconditionally. I was the undeclared captain, umpire, referee and manager of the playing troop. Beside the cricket kit I always use to have a lot of tasty food and drinks with me that was another benefit for them. Another thing that made me rule the troop if not the game was that with my repute it was easier to get the ball back if someone hits it to one of the houses. But kids are kids every time they do not accept your illegal demands. That use to create kiddy fights and finally leaving me crying back to home with my kit. But there was one good thing, next day we again played as usual.
I am India, a 65 years young country. Well my my actual age is few thousands years in terms of civilization but I was reborn 65 years ago from my ashes created by colonialism, losing some feathers in the process. To introduce myself, I am the worlds largest democracy, one of the oldest civilization, birthplace of four major religions of the world followed by a quarter of world’s population and I house around 17.5% of world population.Historically, I was one the worlds first urban civilization, first country to have developed counting, zero and decimal. The civilization I cradled was the first to start a university, a proper language and grammar system and was among the first one to know that the earth revolves around the sun. Perhaps one of the few countries with more than five kings titled “the great”. I was the richest country in the entire world before I was captured and killed and was called the Golden Bird, or the Jewel of British Crown.Well enough of history. Today, I have the second largest army, fourth largest air-force and navy. One of the most modernized air-force in the world. My navy in the only “to be Blue water navy” in Asia. I am one of the few recognized nuclear powers on earth, one of the five countries to have a lunar mission and only 2nd with a lunar landing mission. I have the second fastest growing economy across the world. When the big power reduce their research budgets I double them. There are only two countries in the world that generate more number of scientists and engineers than I do. The world is being cured by the doctors and nurses I trained. I own, the 2nd largest railway network, largest communication network. I have 8 of world’s 100 richest people.My people claim that we never attacked any country, but thats not true, Indian kings attacked and ruled Srilanka and parts of old Persian empire, and my people still continue to attack within the country in terms of caste, religion, region and language. Most of the attack on me were the invited by my own people be it Moghuls or British.
No boasting around anymore, lets go to the irony. I have about one third of poor people of the world and $2 Trillion of my money illegally lies in other countries. Though, I started the university system in the world, a quarter of my population is illiterate. I provide doctors across the globe but I have 0.7 hospital beds per 1000 as compared the international requirement of 3.96 and so is the trend in number of doctors. Some of my kings planted trees around the roads and today I am among the worlds highest CO2 emitter. We have a sex ratio where males outnumber females, a result of aborting female child although many of my people worship female Gods. I import more than we export, even after such growth of economy. My national animal tiger is endangered in my own lap. I have a high desertification rate a lot of people do not get clean drinking water. Concretization of land has led to reduction in ground water recharge.But all is not lost. I turn 65 today, I have many years of life ahead. I believe my people can generate more wealth, fight to get back the trillions. Respect female child with equal rights, educate people, develop infrastructure without disturbing ecological and natural balance. Some of the efforts have already started paying. I am the one considered among the top countries in harvesting renewable sources of energy. The emissions are being cut in an ordered way, methods of enginnering a more eco-friendly infrastructure is evolving. People who left me for a better future want to come back. My people own some emperial companies. I am striking back. Hopefully the illegal flow of money and legal flow of Brain will slow and ultimately stop one day in near future.You know good thing about my people that they always hope positive no matter what the situation is. And, I am still young enough to enjoy the fruits from their efforts.Have a great week ahead,India
Most of our childhood bedtime stories started with “Once upon a time, there was a king…” That is the tagline seems to be inspiring our politicians. They don’t want the future kids to listen to the stories that go like – “Once upon a time, there was a democracy, with elected representatives who were answerable to the people through the electoral process, the courts and the Lokpal.” They just want to insert a big and bold “….not answerable…” in the story.
In our civics lecture during school we learnt India is a Democracy. Well, they taught many other things but so what? A lot of it was myth. You know education ruins. Politicians want us to enjoy our confusion about India and do all sorts of hoodwink tricks. The latest salvo from it is that MPs and the PM should be kept out of the bill’s purview, which in turn renders the bill impotent and pointless even before it is enacted. The issue is not the bill or the government. It is simply what you can do in democracy or what are you allowed to do in a democracy.
The action happened last night; government’s use of force on peaceful protesters, while they were asleep was stunning. No matter how outlandish Baba was, he was within his rights. Teargassing and assaulting at 1am is not what democracies do. No government takes such a ridiculous decision. What inspired them ? If they are not using this strategy properly for their political mileage I see them in deep trouble. They might have to pay a hefty price for their ‘karma’. It can lead to many such protests and then it will aggravate the problem. Opposition just getting another opportunity to get under government’s nerves. A sense of displeasure that it has created among people may lead to bigger threats to the government. That’s about democracy, you cannot escape people, you have to at least keep deceiving them. I know everyone involved here in the issue has something to do with politics making it hard to comment on. They are perhaps the smartest people on earth tricking billions all around the globe. But, over smartness kills.
Anyway, baba says he is continuing his fast with many more joining them, even the British didn’t leave us after one protest and demonstration, sounds good. And before my blog gets teargassed and traumatized by Delhi Police, love to all and off-course Peace. There was always a happy ending to all these bedtime stories.
Ref: Few sentences in the Blog were taken from Chetan Bhagat’s latest TOI column
Here I lie, waiting for death on the land that belongs to the Kingdom, The kingdom; I won with my power, expanded and glorified with the my efforts. I know the history will always consider me as an antagonist. The future generation will call me a devil, an anti-god. No one will ever look at the positives, no one will appreciate how I struggled to be a king and found a great empire, how bravely I fought all my enemies and how I died, fighting my combatants, my kingdom’s foes. History will commemorate this as moment of victory of good over evil.Born to a brahmin father (A class of people responsible for religious and scholarly works), I had opportunity to learn different domains ranging from art of fighting, music, medicine and politics. I proved myself with all these. I grabbed this opportunity with both the hands. Yes, I was ambitious and was ready to fulfill them with my efforts. My father’s background did not provide me with such opportunity but, my grand father set the right background for this. Is it really so wrong if I want to use my knowledge and skills to establish a kingdom. People say I snatched the kingdom from my brother, but didn’t I do better as the king . How much was Lanka’s glory in Kuber’s time. I asked and challenged Kuber for the kingdom as I could do better and did it, in time. Every child takes qualities from its parent so did I and did the best in what I was taught by my parents.I worshiped Shiva, I devoted myself to Brahma to get their blessings and powers. I was a normal man not a God or their reincarnation unlike Rama. Why should the history present me as an Apollyon? Who at my time was a more devoted worshiper of these gods? People call me polygamist and blame me for exploitation of women, king Dashrath “The father of Ram” was also one. But he is the father of their hero Ram. Leave alone Dashrath who was a human, just think of the so called Gods. Shiva himself had had clandestine coitus with Madhura in absence of Parvati. Why is he a God and I am a demon?I was a good king I know that. Its glory speaks of it. There was only one golden empire and it was Lanka not Ayodhya. A small island kingdom had surpassed the hero’s kingdom in terms of glory. Lanka although a small island but was a greater kingdom.
My people were happy, my city was more prosperous, I had more victories under my belt, but, history to be written in future will present it in another way.I faced wars and faced them with full courage, valor and bravery. I lost wars as well but never cheated my enemy. I lost to the king of Kiskindha; Vali but never attacked at his back. Ram killed him while hiding behind him. If these are the traits of the gallantry, I happily admit I am not the one. If the so called Gods like Ram wins and kills in this way, he should not be called as a God. If I would have taken Sita as my lady forcibly what Ram could have done. I had enough time and opportunity to do that. I didn’t do that. Sugriv accuses his brother Vali of being partial and for taking his wife after exiling him from the kingdom. But what did Sugriv himself did after killing his brother, took the kingdom and his wife. Today even I am dying because of my dear brother Vibhishan. I would have never been killed or defeated, if my dear brother had not been a traitor. He perhaps did for the kingdom, making another Sugreeva out of him. Oh my Brother Vibhishan, I would have sacrificed the kinghood if you would have asked for it once. Betrayal and god gelled together to bring me to death. Should I really call him a God?, Anyway I will be declared a demon by history in the future, I am happy dying like a warrior while defending my land, from the hands of Rama or more appropriately my brother, because Rama could never kill me. I was never defeated by the so called God.
Eight years! siting on the window seat of train I was just getting myself anxious. The train stopped and I managed to get my slim body out of the door through the crowd rather easily. It’s 4.30 AM, January morning with chilling breeze around. Feeling the cold I made myself shrink in my warm jacket. My unfolded fist wandered inside the pocket looking for the mobile. I dialed dad with freezing fingers to know if someone is coming to pick me up. After a short conversation I was asked to wait for sometime. I thought of satisfying my anxiety with a look outside the station. It was a changed city with new building structures and more of cars than rickshaws but people still looked the same. Starting off their day early in the morning even at 3 degree Celsius with freezing wind and visibility limiting fog. I reached near the temple which was unchanged and still looked new, separated by a street from a mosque; both crowded for morning prayers. In the flower shop the keepers were busy in handling the customers and occasionally sprinkling water on the flowers to make them appear fresh. I reached the narrow street there.
The street with which I share some pleasant memories. Two teenagers, a boy and a girl, The girl is looking at the flowers in the shop and the boy is waiting for his mom outside the temple. My mom never asked me to enter the temple as I used to make fun of her so called GODS. We looked at each other and exchanged a smile. Both of us had some hesitation to approach and talk to each other. Now the funny irony was we studied in the same school same class and don’t need unnecessary introduction. Well, the hesitation did not last longer than 2-3 minutes.
“Hello Ayesha, how come here?”
As if I did not know that she must be here with her dad offering fajr prayers after morning aajaan inside the mosque. She smiled and gave me the answer I already knew. Now I did not know how to continue with our conversation.
She came to rescue me out of it, by asking “how come you in a temple? As far as I know you are an atheist, with a sarcastic smile.”
This took me by surprise,. I did not expect her to know this part of me, as very few of school-mates knew this, at least not her. I could easily hide my inner expression of surprise with a short laugh.
“That’s why I was forced to stay out of the temple by Mom, I said. And you are busy looking at these flowers,”
I asked to continue with the conversation, she answered yes and these red roses are my favorites. We barely had talk for few minutes as it seemed to me at that time, I saw mom coming out. Honestly speaking, I was not very glad to see her coming out so soon. Anyway I introduced Ayesha to mom and she greeted mom in by touching her feet. It is a usual of greeting elders in India. In turn she got a hug from my mom and some blessing with the sweets from the temple. After a short conversation between mom and Ayesha we had to say goodbye for the day and I moved towards my car with mom, but did not forget to wave my hands before throwing myself at the driving seat. I was 15 at that time but could drive without hesitation. This is one of the awards of being related to the city police chief in India.
Next week we met in the school bus. Our houses were not very far so we used to travel through the same bus to school. But today it was different we were not just exchanging smiles but worded smiles.
She suddenly came with a question,
“You were surprised on that day when I called you an atheist, weren’t you ?”
Ah! I don’t how the hell girls can know something even if you try your best to hide it from them. I think that makes them a better spy (Mr. Ian Flemming your movies should have a female bond). I just smiled with acceptance. She laughed and told the reason was Priyanka (Only my good friends and anti’s knew about this quality). It was enjoyable to know that she used to talk about me before. For the first and last time I was happy with what Priyanka did. She was an annoyer for me before. I just thanked her without blabbering a word. During the next days we talked more often than ever, with words and without words. Once in the school park she told me again that she loves red roses perhaps for the 9th time in 10 days. To admit, at that time I was stupid enough to not understand the meaning hidden in her words, and I continued to be idiot for next few days.
The entire class was on an excursion to the city zoo, few of the students got intentionally lost from the troop during the visit., and fortunately we were a part of this lost bunch. We in pairs then departed from each other before reappearing in more or less an hour. After jocund excursion and the better one hour (When she got a red rose finally) we came back to our homes. I was talking to sis (the way I address my elder sister) I told her about Ayesha. And next morning it was a teasing day. Sis and Big B had entered a collaboration to banter me. Well anyone will love doing this if a 15 year old boy says he is in love. I was embarrassed, but had to bear it anyway. By evening Mom and dad had joined the collaboration, and I had no savior. Mom started saying I met my daughter in law and I support my little son. I don’t care about the religion stuff. And then she laughed at me. I was peeved, blushed and irritated simultaneously with their remarks and tried to show that I am getting angry. Anyway, it continued with a slow decrease in its intensity through the days.
Eid- Ul- Fitar invitation brought a reason to meet her parents. I was determined to behave in the best possible to impress way. I did not need a lot of change or rehearsal as I was already a well behaved boy. Believe me I did more just accomplishing the job in my hand. The impression that I left that day won me the freedom to meet and talk to her more often than I used to enjoy before. But it was because their parent still took us as kids. This is probably one issue that has never been resolved and will never get resolved. All the parent take their kids to be kids even if they turn into grand parents.
That morning she came and without saying even Hi moved into the lecture room. The teacher was inside so verbal communication was difficult. I thought of playing the postman game. The game was very simple and efficient way to communicate in presence of teacher. The sender writes something on a piece of paper and the paper passes to the person you want to communicate with, through class mates, hiding beneath the desks and tables.
“What happened? Why are you not talking to me?” I asked.
After a long journey of 11 people it came back to me.
“Khaalaa jaan saw us yesterday and she told mom about us”, was the answer.
The news was not good but like a fearless lone warrior engulfed in enemies den I wrote
She wrote that we will talk after the lecture.
As soon as the lecture was over I rushed towards and almost screamed at her,
“so what if Khaalaa saw us ? Its still the same we love each other”.
She, without saying anything started crying and now I was down.
Trying to console her I said, “why do you worry its not a big issue”.
In sobbing voice she replied “no, its not possible to continue with this anymore. Mom slapped me yesterday. Look I come from an orthodox muslim family. My parents will never accept anything like this and that too with a hindu boy”.
“What the hell? don’t you think its just stupid and nothing else?”
She came closer and then said
“we would continue to friends but it cant continue in the same way anymore”.
“Friends! shut up” I barked. This is very typical of girls first carry you to a stage where they call you more than a friend and suddenly freeze with this kind of end. It was all getting to an end very suddenly and awfully
I somehow managed to attend rest of the lecture came back home and cried for sometime hiding in a blanket. Then onwards I met her everyday for next 30 days or so but no talks, just staring and hiding from each other. Board exams came and went. I went to a different school to continue with studies and then moved to the medical school. Next two years of study and preparation for medical school never gave me enough time to remember or forget Ayesha. Dad was transferred from that city, so never had a chance to visit this city of good old memories. Today after 8 years just trying to remember incidents that had happened, getting deeper into nostalgia. From the street I could see two teenagers who started with a story here.
I was so drowned into all these memories suddenly the mobile vibration woke me up and without looking at the call I asked
“yes dad where are you?”
Oh I can see dad’s car coming, gotta go…..