The entire street was turned dark due to power cut. Though it was an irritating time for some, I was enjoying while playing hide and sick with my friends. After some time, a fallout amongst us stopped the game. All of us went to a man who was making gum, which was to be used for pasting paper in the note book producing company. That was the only place where some light was available. I always wanted to speak Hindi. The tall dark man was from Kolkata and did not know any language other than Hindi. For me, Hindi is always a complete language in which we can express all our feelings. We grew up watching Delhi Doordarshan, a Hindi channel. We were brought up with all the popular daily soaps like Ramayan, Mahabharat, Vikram Vetal, Vyomkesh Bakshi, Alif Laila, etc. Everything was in Hindi.
As all my friends enjoyed observing how the man was preparing gum, I asked him, “Aap Kolkata se aaya hai?” He shrugged and smiled. I think, my Hindi grammar and accent sounded strange to him. But he could make out what I meant. For next five minutes, both of us talked in Hindi. It was only when I repeated each sentence three times, he could be able to make out. My friends around me were silent, observing the conversation. All of a sudden, one fellow started to play with the fire. All the children followed him. Everyone went away carrying some fire either with a stick or with a cardboard. I sat with the man for a chat. “I can make out”, he said when I asked how my accent was. Before I could take the conversation to the next level, suddenly I felt immense pain on my right shoulder. It took me no time to realize that my third brother had placed a hot dowel pin on my shoulder. The hot pin burnt the part of my body. I was finding it hard to bear the pain, but couldn’t help it. I ran back home, but did not tell anyone about this. There is a reason behind why I didn’t let anyone know about the pin story. Every time I complained against my third brother to my mother, I was the one who deserved the first slap. Maybe this was the disadvantage of having a comparatively more notorious image. One thing was very common between me and my third brother. We never hit each other immediately after getting hit by the other. Both of us took some time and retaliated with a perfect plan.
The next day, my grandma was trying to sleep during the noon. I was also trying to sleep, but could not lie down on my back because of the pain in the shoulder. Hence, I was just spending the time by pinching my grandma with a dowel pin once in a regular interval of five to ten seconds. She got irritated and asked me to stop. However, her irritation made me more active. I continued pinching her. She was helpless. All of a sudden, my third brother came running from somewhere. Grandma told him, “Bapini, just snatch the pin from this boy’s hand.” Acting like a true rescuer, he snatched the pin from my hand and ran away. I ran after him to get it back. He went out of home and then, fifty meters away from home. I stood outside the house and found no reason to run in the hot noon. My eyes fell on a pebble. I just picked it up and threw at him only to reflect my anger. However, the stone traveled in a direction that resulted in a half a bowl blood from his cracked head. “O my God! That was not intentional.”, I told myself. He came back home placing both of his hands on the part of his head where the pebble hit him. I thought he would kill me then and there. He crossed me and went inside the house. Perhaps, he remembered the rule of not hitting each other immediately after getting hit by the other.
It was ten days after the incident. Bapini got up in the midnight and asked me to get up. Those were the days in the year when a folk dance called “Danda Nach” used to take place in every nook and corner of the city. The dance was normally followed by a play in the midnight. We planned to go to watch a play that would take place half kilometer away from our house. On the way, he said, “You know, you have done a good thing by hitting my head with the pebble. I can’t sleep even now because of the pain. And as a consequence, we will be able to enjoy the drama today.” To add his philosophical thought, I added, “Really, don’t worry. I will hit your head with a pebble again next year during this time so that we will be able to see dramas next time too”, placing my left hand on my right shoulder to feel the signs of the burns that was created by the hot dowel pin. As soon as the sentence was complete, I ran away fearing a punch from him. “Hey, don’t run. I won’t hit you. Come back.”, he said. And we enjoyed the play together until morning.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Why did Govind suffer from fever? (2005)
Visiting Govind’s house every morning had become a practice. There was a subconscious force that used to compel me to bend the handle of my bicycle in the direction of his house. I got down from the bicycle, went near the gate and called, “Govind Bhai”, “Govind Bhai”. His mother came. “Aunty, Govind Bhai is there?”, I promptly asked. “Yes, Ganesh. Go upstairs.”, she said in a tensed voice. I climbed the steps to reach upstairs.
Govind was sleeping with two blankets loaded over him. “What happened”, I asked. “Just put the backside of your hand on my forehead and check the temperature”, he said. I did the same without asking any question. I found his body temperature a little more than normal. “What happened?”, I asked again, this time with a hope of a more convincing answer. “I got scared of something last night, that’s why I got a fever”, he said. “Scared of what?”, was my immediate question.
Govind said:
[The night was chilling. I, as usual, was coming back home with my bullocks. I could see nothing in my surrounding except the white bullocks and the grey road that too up to a certain distance. Shouting “anon!, anon!”, I was singing “Hanuman Chalisa” to beat the fear of darkness.
After crossing the village, I had to cross a few rice fields spreading across two miles to reach home. The volume in which I was singing was increasing gradually indicating the intensity of my fear. I was looking at everything around and the sky more than I was looking at my bullocks. In regular intervals, I used to beat the bullocks with a whip to make sure I was not alone on the way.
All of a sudden, I discovered a woman in white clad looking towards me. I found that the woman had no legs. She was calling me with gestures. I felt a sudden chill in the air. The night was so scary. I tried to wrap myself with the only blanket I had. I was beating the bullocks more frequently till I got some audible response from them. Nobody could guess the wordings of the “whatever” I was singing at that time. Shivering in an unusual way from top to bottom, I also discovered sweat on my forehead.
I slowly forgot my destination, the presence of bullocks, trying hard to ignore the woman (Ghost) but, looking at her stealthily. There was no change in the movements of the ghost. She was looking at me and calling me with gestures. For one second, I even thought of going back to the village I just passed-by and spend the night somewhere. But I remembered my grand-pa had told me that “ghosts enter into our body when they are behind us.” I gathered all my courage and moved forward.
There was no other way to pass by. I, with unsteady foot-steps, was discovering ditches on the plain road. I forgot singing; was on the threshold of shedding tears. Looking at the ghost constantly, I then also started hearing a deafening sound from the ghost, “sh... come to me”, “sh... come to me”. I did not realize the bullocks had gone to the rice fields. I had lost my blanket somewhere on the way. My only comrade then was the whip which I did not realize I was holding.
I did not look at the ghost when I was at the closest. But, I had to cross the ghost, then, she would be behind him. I crossed without looking at her, walked few steps, but gathered all my courage to have a glance of her. I stopped, only turned my head to see the ghost. My entire body was static, only the head moved. And, to my surprise, I found a white cloth on a bush swaying in the wind.]
Govind was sleeping with two blankets loaded over him. “What happened”, I asked. “Just put the backside of your hand on my forehead and check the temperature”, he said. I did the same without asking any question. I found his body temperature a little more than normal. “What happened?”, I asked again, this time with a hope of a more convincing answer. “I got scared of something last night, that’s why I got a fever”, he said. “Scared of what?”, was my immediate question.
Govind said:
[The night was chilling. I, as usual, was coming back home with my bullocks. I could see nothing in my surrounding except the white bullocks and the grey road that too up to a certain distance. Shouting “anon!, anon!”, I was singing “Hanuman Chalisa” to beat the fear of darkness.
After crossing the village, I had to cross a few rice fields spreading across two miles to reach home. The volume in which I was singing was increasing gradually indicating the intensity of my fear. I was looking at everything around and the sky more than I was looking at my bullocks. In regular intervals, I used to beat the bullocks with a whip to make sure I was not alone on the way.
All of a sudden, I discovered a woman in white clad looking towards me. I found that the woman had no legs. She was calling me with gestures. I felt a sudden chill in the air. The night was so scary. I tried to wrap myself with the only blanket I had. I was beating the bullocks more frequently till I got some audible response from them. Nobody could guess the wordings of the “whatever” I was singing at that time. Shivering in an unusual way from top to bottom, I also discovered sweat on my forehead.
I slowly forgot my destination, the presence of bullocks, trying hard to ignore the woman (Ghost) but, looking at her stealthily. There was no change in the movements of the ghost. She was looking at me and calling me with gestures. For one second, I even thought of going back to the village I just passed-by and spend the night somewhere. But I remembered my grand-pa had told me that “ghosts enter into our body when they are behind us.” I gathered all my courage and moved forward.
There was no other way to pass by. I, with unsteady foot-steps, was discovering ditches on the plain road. I forgot singing; was on the threshold of shedding tears. Looking at the ghost constantly, I then also started hearing a deafening sound from the ghost, “sh... come to me”, “sh... come to me”. I did not realize the bullocks had gone to the rice fields. I had lost my blanket somewhere on the way. My only comrade then was the whip which I did not realize I was holding.
I did not look at the ghost when I was at the closest. But, I had to cross the ghost, then, she would be behind him. I crossed without looking at her, walked few steps, but gathered all my courage to have a glance of her. I stopped, only turned my head to see the ghost. My entire body was static, only the head moved. And, to my surprise, I found a white cloth on a bush swaying in the wind.]
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
One of my two best friends whom I lost in 1993
Before I could recover the trauma of losing my best friend, I lost another in 1993. Loss of the earlier had brought me closer to the later.
It was the drumstick tree, standing in our courtyard, bent a bit towards the south. Everyday after coming back from school, I used to stand leaning to it. The school children used to nail its trunk with thorns so that some gum would sprout from it, which they would use in pasting paper. Everyday I found multiple thorns in its trunk. I used to remove the thorns and clean its trunk. Abusing children who came near the tree to collect gum had become a part and partial of my daily life.
The murder of my best friend was cold blooded. It was taken care of that the tree would never grow again. I still remember that black day in my life. I was standing at a corner, crying. A laborer was cutting the branches. People standing below were collecting each and every piece of the tree. Perhaps this is the only tree having everything starting from its leaves, fruits to its flowers edible. After all the branches, it was the turn of the trunk. The man was cutting the trunk with a rip saw in front of my eyes. I was feeling as if he was piercing my heart.
While observing the cutting program, I remembered how we used to collect the flowers that used to fall on the floor every morning. My first sister and I used to accumulate the flowers and give it to mother who then used to prepare cake out of it. It was all fun. The cakes were damn tasty. My sister and I used to fight over the king’s size. After eating the cake, we always went to the tree to thank it for the same, hoping for a similar cake the next day. Everyone was enjoying the cutting process and nobody bothered to see the tears that were coming out from both of my eyes like two perennial rivers. After few minutes, the trunk fell down. I ran towards.. don’t know where.. aimlessly, as if the spirit left the body and I was running to catch it.
After coming back, I found no sign of the tree. I knelt down on the spot to feel the absence of my best friend. One day passed, two days passed, on the fourth or the fifth day, the tree again grew up. It was visible. People found it as an obstruction on their way. A plan was made to uproot it. But it was deep rooted, hence considered quite difficult for each and every piece to be unearthed. My father came out with a plan. Five kilos of salt solved the problem. The entire hole created by the partial uprooting of the tree was filled with salt. I had a last glance of my best friend that day.
Since that day until now, I still feel my best friend tried everything to come to the earth to meet me. Alas! I couldn’t do anything to save it.
It was the drumstick tree, standing in our courtyard, bent a bit towards the south. Everyday after coming back from school, I used to stand leaning to it. The school children used to nail its trunk with thorns so that some gum would sprout from it, which they would use in pasting paper. Everyday I found multiple thorns in its trunk. I used to remove the thorns and clean its trunk. Abusing children who came near the tree to collect gum had become a part and partial of my daily life.
The murder of my best friend was cold blooded. It was taken care of that the tree would never grow again. I still remember that black day in my life. I was standing at a corner, crying. A laborer was cutting the branches. People standing below were collecting each and every piece of the tree. Perhaps this is the only tree having everything starting from its leaves, fruits to its flowers edible. After all the branches, it was the turn of the trunk. The man was cutting the trunk with a rip saw in front of my eyes. I was feeling as if he was piercing my heart.
While observing the cutting program, I remembered how we used to collect the flowers that used to fall on the floor every morning. My first sister and I used to accumulate the flowers and give it to mother who then used to prepare cake out of it. It was all fun. The cakes were damn tasty. My sister and I used to fight over the king’s size. After eating the cake, we always went to the tree to thank it for the same, hoping for a similar cake the next day. Everyone was enjoying the cutting process and nobody bothered to see the tears that were coming out from both of my eyes like two perennial rivers. After few minutes, the trunk fell down. I ran towards.. don’t know where.. aimlessly, as if the spirit left the body and I was running to catch it.
After coming back, I found no sign of the tree. I knelt down on the spot to feel the absence of my best friend. One day passed, two days passed, on the fourth or the fifth day, the tree again grew up. It was visible. People found it as an obstruction on their way. A plan was made to uproot it. But it was deep rooted, hence considered quite difficult for each and every piece to be unearthed. My father came out with a plan. Five kilos of salt solved the problem. The entire hole created by the partial uprooting of the tree was filled with salt. I had a last glance of my best friend that day.
Since that day until now, I still feel my best friend tried everything to come to the earth to meet me. Alas! I couldn’t do anything to save it.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Consequence of taking revenge from a dog (1990)
It was during our summer vacation. My third brother (Bapini) and I were moving around the town. We had gone far away from home. We were not allowed to go so far at that age. Bapini was a self-proclaimed good singer. He was singing and I used to support him by creating music with my voice. All of a sudden, he stopped singing and held my hand tight. I asked him, “What happened, bro?” He answered in a trembling voice, “Look, who is coming towards us.” I looked in the direction he indicated. My father was driving back home in a car. No second thoughts. I shouted, let’s run away.
I thought that we would reach home before my father reached. We were just half a kilometer away from home. As it was a narrow street, the car was stuck in traffic. But I would not take that as a reason. I thought we were running faster than the car. I was also creating a back-ground score (dik-chik-dha) with my voice as it happens in movies, for obviously I was not any less than a Hero to myself.
Both of us were just 100 meters away from home when I saw a dog sleeping on the road. It was the same dog that came to our home in the morning when I was sleeping and took a rice place with its mouth. I was observing the dog taking the plate, but it left our home before I could get up.
First, I thought of kicking the dog. But then, I thought it would not be a right decision as there was a risk that it might bite me. So what to do? I was getting closer and closer. At the end, I decided to jump over the dog and disturb its sleep as it had disturbed me when I was sleeping in the morning. Without any second thought, I jumped over it. Guess what happened? I was successful in disturbing the dog. However, it reacted in such a rocket speed that the entire story took a new direction. I was bitten by the dog in the air, a really rare scene to watch.
I came back home after 15 minutes. My father had reached home. My brother was studying like an innocent boy. My mother and my grandma found me moaning with pain. They came to know its reason from me. My father was informed about the same. Everyone was tensed as there was a myth prevailing that one who is bitten by a dog behaves like a dog if proper treatment is not provided.
I was taken to the Medical on the same day. The doctor suggested to take 14 injections around my naval with the first one on spot. Do I need to describe how much pain I went through? I don’t think so. After that day, I was taken to the medical daily for seven days. I never had a tummy but the soar belly appeared like one. For one injection, I used to keep an ice on the belly the entire day. People used to ask me how it felt and I used to respond with a silent.
My maternal uncle came to see me after seven days. My condition was narrated to him. He came up with an idea. He said that he had seen people acting like dogs even when they had taken 14 injections. He suggested that I should have been taken to an ayurvedic doctor. My family members agreed to that. I was more than happy, no more belly-piercing injections.
The next day, my uncle took me to the ayurvedic doctor in a village which was 30 kilometers away from my home town. It was 9 o’ clock in the morning. The doctor came with some medicines and asked me to take it then and there. Within five minutes of taking the medicine, everything got blurred in front of me. I felt like sleeping. And I end up with sleeping.
For next two days, I don’t remember what happened to me. In my uncle’s words, I was taken to a well when I got up and forced to take a bath with 42 buckets of water. He says, I used to jump like a dog with every bucket poured on me. I was taken to my granny’s home on a bicycle. I had to spend two days with my granny and grandma there. One night, both the oldies were sleeping in each of my sides when I heard a noise. I got up and found a cat running. The cat appeared to me as my third brother. He ran after it address the cat “Bapini.. Bapini..”. I reached a rice field following the cat which then disappeared. I realized my granny and grandma were holding my hands tight and dragging me towards home.
After spending two days in granny’s home, I had to be taken back home. I was traveling with my uncle. I got into the bus and told the conducted that I had been under medication because of being bitten by a dog. Two people were made to get up to get my uncle and me seated. In the bus, my uncle showed me his wrist watch and asked me “what’s the time?” His watch seemed to be totally flat without any arms and numbers. I asked him why he was wearing a watch of that sort.
I reached back home. On the eighth day of taking the medicine, I had to eat a special cake. My granny had come to my home to prepare the cakes. I ate four to five of them. My uncle came in the evening. He showed me the same watch and asked “what’s the time now?” I looked at his watch and said “it’s six thirty.” He gave a smile followed by my mother, granny and grandma; but all my brothers and sisters laughed.
I thought that we would reach home before my father reached. We were just half a kilometer away from home. As it was a narrow street, the car was stuck in traffic. But I would not take that as a reason. I thought we were running faster than the car. I was also creating a back-ground score (dik-chik-dha) with my voice as it happens in movies, for obviously I was not any less than a Hero to myself.
Both of us were just 100 meters away from home when I saw a dog sleeping on the road. It was the same dog that came to our home in the morning when I was sleeping and took a rice place with its mouth. I was observing the dog taking the plate, but it left our home before I could get up.
First, I thought of kicking the dog. But then, I thought it would not be a right decision as there was a risk that it might bite me. So what to do? I was getting closer and closer. At the end, I decided to jump over the dog and disturb its sleep as it had disturbed me when I was sleeping in the morning. Without any second thought, I jumped over it. Guess what happened? I was successful in disturbing the dog. However, it reacted in such a rocket speed that the entire story took a new direction. I was bitten by the dog in the air, a really rare scene to watch.
I came back home after 15 minutes. My father had reached home. My brother was studying like an innocent boy. My mother and my grandma found me moaning with pain. They came to know its reason from me. My father was informed about the same. Everyone was tensed as there was a myth prevailing that one who is bitten by a dog behaves like a dog if proper treatment is not provided.
I was taken to the Medical on the same day. The doctor suggested to take 14 injections around my naval with the first one on spot. Do I need to describe how much pain I went through? I don’t think so. After that day, I was taken to the medical daily for seven days. I never had a tummy but the soar belly appeared like one. For one injection, I used to keep an ice on the belly the entire day. People used to ask me how it felt and I used to respond with a silent.
My maternal uncle came to see me after seven days. My condition was narrated to him. He came up with an idea. He said that he had seen people acting like dogs even when they had taken 14 injections. He suggested that I should have been taken to an ayurvedic doctor. My family members agreed to that. I was more than happy, no more belly-piercing injections.
The next day, my uncle took me to the ayurvedic doctor in a village which was 30 kilometers away from my home town. It was 9 o’ clock in the morning. The doctor came with some medicines and asked me to take it then and there. Within five minutes of taking the medicine, everything got blurred in front of me. I felt like sleeping. And I end up with sleeping.
For next two days, I don’t remember what happened to me. In my uncle’s words, I was taken to a well when I got up and forced to take a bath with 42 buckets of water. He says, I used to jump like a dog with every bucket poured on me. I was taken to my granny’s home on a bicycle. I had to spend two days with my granny and grandma there. One night, both the oldies were sleeping in each of my sides when I heard a noise. I got up and found a cat running. The cat appeared to me as my third brother. He ran after it address the cat “Bapini.. Bapini..”. I reached a rice field following the cat which then disappeared. I realized my granny and grandma were holding my hands tight and dragging me towards home.
After spending two days in granny’s home, I had to be taken back home. I was traveling with my uncle. I got into the bus and told the conducted that I had been under medication because of being bitten by a dog. Two people were made to get up to get my uncle and me seated. In the bus, my uncle showed me his wrist watch and asked me “what’s the time?” His watch seemed to be totally flat without any arms and numbers. I asked him why he was wearing a watch of that sort.
I reached back home. On the eighth day of taking the medicine, I had to eat a special cake. My granny had come to my home to prepare the cakes. I ate four to five of them. My uncle came in the evening. He showed me the same watch and asked “what’s the time now?” I looked at his watch and said “it’s six thirty.” He gave a smile followed by my mother, granny and grandma; but all my brothers and sisters laughed.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Acceptence is Repentance (1996)
This is the most awaited day of my life till then. Everyone I knew gave the day a lot of importance, sometimes considered it as a milestone in one's life. It was the last day of my HSC (10th) exam. The paper was Geography. I was not at all good in that subject. Before the exam starts, some of my friends were discussing about their plans for the evening. Some thought they would start drinking alcohol and some preferred smoking. But out of all this, the best thing that captured my attention was that of a movie.
Three of my friends, sitting under a tree, were planning to visit a movie. They were talking about some scenes they saw in a promo. It was quite alluring. I sat by them to hear what they were talking about, almost forgetting about today's paper. To end their discussion, Purna said to Srinu and Kunja that each of them needed to spend just a little more than 5 rupees to visit the movie. Now, it was interesting for me. I had all the three reasons to be a part of their plan. First, I had never visited a movie by then; Second, it was the last paper of HSC; and third, I had more than 10 rupees in my pocket. So before the bell rings when they said, "so it's a plan" and placed their right hands one over the other, I also put my hand on top saying "yes, it's a plan." All three of them, looked at me in astonishment. I felt like an uninvited guest, but it's okay when the matter was about a movie.
It was decided that all of us will meet at 12:30 PM at the same place after the exam. The test was scheduled to take place between 10:00 AM and 12:30 PM. I would say it was a 2 and 1/2 hour disaster for me. After answering every question, I started thinking about the movie. Around 12 O' clock, I was totally lost. At about 12:15 PM, when I came back to my senses and realized that I still know the answer of one question. Before starting to put the answer on the sheet, I found my movie partners outside the window. They gestured me to submit the sheet. And I made up my mind to leave the exam hall, beating all the guilty feelings. Without giving any second thought, I submitted the paper and left the hall.
We waited outside. Three public carriers came and went. I couldn't get into them. They were over crowed. All the other three got into the vehicle and jumped down when they saw I couldn't make it. On seeing a vehicle from far away, Kunja let everyone know about his decision that even if I couldn't make it that time, they would leave for the movie without me. I felt very embarrassed. I made up my mind to jump into the vehicle no matter what happens thereafter. But Srinu and Purna had a different plan. They knew I was not more than 35 kgs. When the vehicle arrived, Kunja got into it through the front door, but the other two waited till the back of the vehicle faced us. Then, Srinu hold my left shoulder and the right one was possessed by Purna. Both of them shouted "Jai Bajrangbali" and jumped on to the rod at the back side of the public carrier. There was no way we could enter into the vehicle. We had to stand on the rod for 15 minutes. I was trembling frivolously. But, anything for a movie.
The vehicle took 20 minutes to drop us at the theater. I was astounded to find the huge crowd outside the main gate. Hundreds of people were waiting for the gate to open. Kunja collected money from all of us before running to the ticket window as the gate opens. When he left us, his shirt was totally tuck in, hair was nicely combed. And when he came back with four tickets, he had only two buttons left in his shirt, hair were looking at the sky. But, the excitement of watching the movie overshadowed everything. We watched the movie sitting in the front row.
Three hours of entertainment ended at 5:30 PM. I reached home at 6:00 PM. All the way to home, I was thinking of a plan to misguide my eldest brother. Srinu and Purna guided me a little. But Kunja was the best. He suggested me the idea that I should say that the vehicles were too crowded, so we had to wait for a spacious one. Everyone agreed to the fabulous plan. All of us bid adieu outside my home. Then, I entered into my home. I took five minutes to walk five steps. Watching a movie in a theater was considered to be a sin in my family. "What would happen to me when my brother would come to know about this?", I thought.
I wished my brother didn't ask me anything though the plan was all set. My brother was teaching some of his students. He looked at me. I didn't look into his eyes, actually I never look into his eyes. He didn't ask me anything. I passed him and was about to change my uniform, he asked "why so late?" I started trembling. Kunja, Srinu and Purna! I don't know why they didn't come to my mind then. He asked again, this time a bit louder, "where were you until now?"
"I.. I.. I went to watch a movie", I confessed as my right hand reached near my right chick and left hand near my left butt.
I expected a tight slap in my face and two to three kicks on the butts. On the contrary, he reacted with a smile after five seconds and asked, "how was the movie? I couldn't get a ticket. How could you manage to get one?" I said, "Kunja got it for me." He said, "Ok, go and get freshened up. And, listen, don't make it a habit. I forgive you because this was your last day of HSC exam. By the way, how was the story?"
Three of my friends, sitting under a tree, were planning to visit a movie. They were talking about some scenes they saw in a promo. It was quite alluring. I sat by them to hear what they were talking about, almost forgetting about today's paper. To end their discussion, Purna said to Srinu and Kunja that each of them needed to spend just a little more than 5 rupees to visit the movie. Now, it was interesting for me. I had all the three reasons to be a part of their plan. First, I had never visited a movie by then; Second, it was the last paper of HSC; and third, I had more than 10 rupees in my pocket. So before the bell rings when they said, "so it's a plan" and placed their right hands one over the other, I also put my hand on top saying "yes, it's a plan." All three of them, looked at me in astonishment. I felt like an uninvited guest, but it's okay when the matter was about a movie.
It was decided that all of us will meet at 12:30 PM at the same place after the exam. The test was scheduled to take place between 10:00 AM and 12:30 PM. I would say it was a 2 and 1/2 hour disaster for me. After answering every question, I started thinking about the movie. Around 12 O' clock, I was totally lost. At about 12:15 PM, when I came back to my senses and realized that I still know the answer of one question. Before starting to put the answer on the sheet, I found my movie partners outside the window. They gestured me to submit the sheet. And I made up my mind to leave the exam hall, beating all the guilty feelings. Without giving any second thought, I submitted the paper and left the hall.
We waited outside. Three public carriers came and went. I couldn't get into them. They were over crowed. All the other three got into the vehicle and jumped down when they saw I couldn't make it. On seeing a vehicle from far away, Kunja let everyone know about his decision that even if I couldn't make it that time, they would leave for the movie without me. I felt very embarrassed. I made up my mind to jump into the vehicle no matter what happens thereafter. But Srinu and Purna had a different plan. They knew I was not more than 35 kgs. When the vehicle arrived, Kunja got into it through the front door, but the other two waited till the back of the vehicle faced us. Then, Srinu hold my left shoulder and the right one was possessed by Purna. Both of them shouted "Jai Bajrangbali" and jumped on to the rod at the back side of the public carrier. There was no way we could enter into the vehicle. We had to stand on the rod for 15 minutes. I was trembling frivolously. But, anything for a movie.
The vehicle took 20 minutes to drop us at the theater. I was astounded to find the huge crowd outside the main gate. Hundreds of people were waiting for the gate to open. Kunja collected money from all of us before running to the ticket window as the gate opens. When he left us, his shirt was totally tuck in, hair was nicely combed. And when he came back with four tickets, he had only two buttons left in his shirt, hair were looking at the sky. But, the excitement of watching the movie overshadowed everything. We watched the movie sitting in the front row.
Three hours of entertainment ended at 5:30 PM. I reached home at 6:00 PM. All the way to home, I was thinking of a plan to misguide my eldest brother. Srinu and Purna guided me a little. But Kunja was the best. He suggested me the idea that I should say that the vehicles were too crowded, so we had to wait for a spacious one. Everyone agreed to the fabulous plan. All of us bid adieu outside my home. Then, I entered into my home. I took five minutes to walk five steps. Watching a movie in a theater was considered to be a sin in my family. "What would happen to me when my brother would come to know about this?", I thought.
I wished my brother didn't ask me anything though the plan was all set. My brother was teaching some of his students. He looked at me. I didn't look into his eyes, actually I never look into his eyes. He didn't ask me anything. I passed him and was about to change my uniform, he asked "why so late?" I started trembling. Kunja, Srinu and Purna! I don't know why they didn't come to my mind then. He asked again, this time a bit louder, "where were you until now?"
"I.. I.. I went to watch a movie", I confessed as my right hand reached near my right chick and left hand near my left butt.
I expected a tight slap in my face and two to three kicks on the butts. On the contrary, he reacted with a smile after five seconds and asked, "how was the movie? I couldn't get a ticket. How could you manage to get one?" I said, "Kunja got it for me." He said, "Ok, go and get freshened up. And, listen, don't make it a habit. I forgive you because this was your last day of HSC exam. By the way, how was the story?"
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
My interaction with Mumbai Local Train (December, 2006)
It was December 2, 2006. I had to travel from Mankhurd to Kurla in a local train just two days after touching Mumbai. I was extremely excited. I had never imagined Mumbai without local trains. And it was, say, my first interaction with Mumbai.
A train arrived just one minute after the scheduled time. I was trying to gather all my guts and energy to get into it. Everyone behind and in front of me ran to find their spaces. Just after 10 seconds, I realized that I was in the train. Then followed a breathless journey of 15 minutes. While getting down, believe me, I had never experienced so much humiliation at a single time. Someone pushed me, someone kicked me. The same thing happened with others too. But unlike me, all of them were shouting and laughing. I was very eager to know the reason of their irrational reaction.
For next several months, I became a regular commuter. I got habituated to the crowd along with their pushes and kicks. One day, all of a sudden, I realized the train was not that crowded. It generated a sense of ecstasy in me. For the first time after joining, I reached at my office with my shirt properly tuck in. Only a fellow who has ever experienced the same thing can imagine the extent of my happiness.
But end of the day, I didn't feel good at all. It was like living a simple and struggle-free life. It's strange but my entire body was aching as it hadn't got the daily massage. Then, the following days went as always. And after a period, I stopped traveling by train as I shifted to a flat close to my office.
It was December 2, 2007. I had to travel from Dadar to Andheri. I was very confident. The year long experience in traveling by train was a support to my confidence. The same thing as earlier happened. There was no need to get into the train. People were so supportive that they didn't give me a single chance to decide whether I should travel by this over-crowded train or wait for the next one. It took 10 seconds and their work was over. But getting down was not that easy this time. At Andheri station, people, of course, pushed me out of the train. And as always, I didn't apply my self-earned energy at all. But the fact that worried me was that I was pushed back by the people who were yet to travel by the same train from that station.
I was on the fence, standing at no space, and getting suffocated. For a short period of time, I realized whether I existed or not. The next stop was Borivili. Someone told me that I had to jump out of the moving train; otherwise the same thing would happen again. The most interesting fact about me, at that time, was that I had a broken leg. An old man, more than 60 years of age, provided me with courage. Could I make it? Yes, only after making a narrow escape from getting my second leg fractured. Well, all that ends well is well.
I reached home safely. But one thing that forced me to scratch my head is that it's a long one year, but no difference was there for the commuters of the so called life-line of Mumbai. And, experience! What's that?
A train arrived just one minute after the scheduled time. I was trying to gather all my guts and energy to get into it. Everyone behind and in front of me ran to find their spaces. Just after 10 seconds, I realized that I was in the train. Then followed a breathless journey of 15 minutes. While getting down, believe me, I had never experienced so much humiliation at a single time. Someone pushed me, someone kicked me. The same thing happened with others too. But unlike me, all of them were shouting and laughing. I was very eager to know the reason of their irrational reaction.
For next several months, I became a regular commuter. I got habituated to the crowd along with their pushes and kicks. One day, all of a sudden, I realized the train was not that crowded. It generated a sense of ecstasy in me. For the first time after joining, I reached at my office with my shirt properly tuck in. Only a fellow who has ever experienced the same thing can imagine the extent of my happiness.
But end of the day, I didn't feel good at all. It was like living a simple and struggle-free life. It's strange but my entire body was aching as it hadn't got the daily massage. Then, the following days went as always. And after a period, I stopped traveling by train as I shifted to a flat close to my office.
It was December 2, 2007. I had to travel from Dadar to Andheri. I was very confident. The year long experience in traveling by train was a support to my confidence. The same thing as earlier happened. There was no need to get into the train. People were so supportive that they didn't give me a single chance to decide whether I should travel by this over-crowded train or wait for the next one. It took 10 seconds and their work was over. But getting down was not that easy this time. At Andheri station, people, of course, pushed me out of the train. And as always, I didn't apply my self-earned energy at all. But the fact that worried me was that I was pushed back by the people who were yet to travel by the same train from that station.
I was on the fence, standing at no space, and getting suffocated. For a short period of time, I realized whether I existed or not. The next stop was Borivili. Someone told me that I had to jump out of the moving train; otherwise the same thing would happen again. The most interesting fact about me, at that time, was that I had a broken leg. An old man, more than 60 years of age, provided me with courage. Could I make it? Yes, only after making a narrow escape from getting my second leg fractured. Well, all that ends well is well.
I reached home safely. But one thing that forced me to scratch my head is that it's a long one year, but no difference was there for the commuters of the so called life-line of Mumbai. And, experience! What's that?
Sunday, August 30, 2009
One of my two best friends, whom I lost in 1989
I don’t remember when I started walking. However, I am sure I must have taken longer than others to balance on my legs. Anyway, that is not the point to be discussed here. It’s about one of my two best friends, with whom I spent 7 to 8 years of my life, since the time I started walking until I lost it. I was so attached to it that maximum of my time during the days, I used to keep hugging it or stand beside it, leaning. It was hard for me to tolerate if someone else touched or hurt it.
Okay, let me first describe the features of my best friend (The White Frangipani flower Tree). Height about 7’, perimeter of the trunk – not more than that of a just married woman’s bangles. Every morning before I get up some street woman came and plucked all its flowers. Though I had never seen flowers in the tree, I knew how its leaves could be used. My mother used to pluck three leaves from it every morning for her prayers. She used to keep the leaves in front of the Basil plant in our courtyard and place some sweet on it as “Offerings” for worship. During those days, I used to ask my mother if the flower tree felt pain when she plucked the three leaves.
For several years in my life, I used to wonder if it was a tree without any fruit and flower. But one morning, when I got up early by chance, to find my friend imaginary beautiful in the early morning. It was filled with white coloured flowers looking just like an Oriya bride draped with a white saree for the marriage ritual. In front of my eyes, a woman was plucking all the flowers from the tree and the white coloured tree turned into green within few moments. I felt like pulling the woman’s leg so that she would fall down on the floor from the stone she was standing on. However, I soon realised that with all my power, I wouldn’t be able to even tickle her.
Though I never believed in destiny, they say how long we stay with anyone in life is already fixed on a prior basis. My father decided to detach my friend from our lives. I felt like someone was going to cut one of my body parts, but was too young to even stand before my father, rebelling was far away from coming into existence. He was a man of strong opinions. Changing his mind was almost impossible for anyone in my family. So the day was fixed when my best friend in front of our house was to be uprooted. The reason was cited to be the parking problems.
I was not informed about the date when the tree was to be uprooted. One day, I got up only to know that I lost my friend forever. Running towards the spot, looking at the hole that was created after uprooting the tree, shedding two drops of tears into the hole, these were the only things I could do at that time. I was feeling so helpless. I thought if these people had asked me for suggestions, I could have suggested the idea of shifting it to some other place. I didn’t know whether it was possible for them or not.
I was only eight years old then. Everyone was considering me a child. Truly speaking, I found all the grown up people in my family, whoever was directly or indirectly responsible for separating me from my best friend, to be more immatured than I was.
Okay, let me first describe the features of my best friend (The White Frangipani flower Tree). Height about 7’, perimeter of the trunk – not more than that of a just married woman’s bangles. Every morning before I get up some street woman came and plucked all its flowers. Though I had never seen flowers in the tree, I knew how its leaves could be used. My mother used to pluck three leaves from it every morning for her prayers. She used to keep the leaves in front of the Basil plant in our courtyard and place some sweet on it as “Offerings” for worship. During those days, I used to ask my mother if the flower tree felt pain when she plucked the three leaves.
For several years in my life, I used to wonder if it was a tree without any fruit and flower. But one morning, when I got up early by chance, to find my friend imaginary beautiful in the early morning. It was filled with white coloured flowers looking just like an Oriya bride draped with a white saree for the marriage ritual. In front of my eyes, a woman was plucking all the flowers from the tree and the white coloured tree turned into green within few moments. I felt like pulling the woman’s leg so that she would fall down on the floor from the stone she was standing on. However, I soon realised that with all my power, I wouldn’t be able to even tickle her.
Though I never believed in destiny, they say how long we stay with anyone in life is already fixed on a prior basis. My father decided to detach my friend from our lives. I felt like someone was going to cut one of my body parts, but was too young to even stand before my father, rebelling was far away from coming into existence. He was a man of strong opinions. Changing his mind was almost impossible for anyone in my family. So the day was fixed when my best friend in front of our house was to be uprooted. The reason was cited to be the parking problems.
I was not informed about the date when the tree was to be uprooted. One day, I got up only to know that I lost my friend forever. Running towards the spot, looking at the hole that was created after uprooting the tree, shedding two drops of tears into the hole, these were the only things I could do at that time. I was feeling so helpless. I thought if these people had asked me for suggestions, I could have suggested the idea of shifting it to some other place. I didn’t know whether it was possible for them or not.
I was only eight years old then. Everyone was considering me a child. Truly speaking, I found all the grown up people in my family, whoever was directly or indirectly responsible for separating me from my best friend, to be more immatured than I was.
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