Mourning

Today she hated the solitude of the sea. The roar of the high tides made her feel that the sea is crying for a companion. And she knew that she was on the shore that night to accompany the vast water body that had drowned itself into its own tears, for she was also amongst the poor lonely creatures of this unkind universe. Both of them, probably, needed each other on that full moon night. The large drops of rain water weren’t enough to wet her. Each drop of salty water coming out of her gloomy eyes bore massive turbulence that was good enough to destroy everything around her. The wrath inside her heart contained much more menace than those frequent lightening. Ponderous repent had provided her adequate weight to confront the strong wind blowing against her face. But her moisture laden eyes, unaware of the agitation of nature, were lost in another world, looking for a twinkling star on the surface of the sky shrouded in grey clouds.

The day had started like any other day for that forty-odd year old lady surviving in the countryside. The golden rays of dawn, arriving from the other side of the sea fell on her eyes to wake her up. She hastily completed her ablutions and woke her daughter up.

“Wake up, my daughter! We have to leave for selling fish. We need to rush,” she told her twenty two year old daughter Radha, shaking her shoulder.

“Yes Ma, give me few more minutes of sleep” Radha said, moving towards other side of the impoverished old cot.

By that time, Radha’s father, a fifty year old, large bellied, partially white haired, black colored man had woken up and was preparing to leave for the sea with his small boat and a frail net perforated at innumerable spots. The lady quickly mudded the floor of the stone-walled house and left for the town with her daughter putting the fish in a hard jute bag on her head.

“You know your father caught scores of large fish last evening. We can earn a lot of money today.” The lady eagerly told her daughter.

“That’s great news! We can plan a good rich dinner tonight, Ma”, Radha told showing her joyous eyes.”

By the time the sun gained its full strength, they had already sold all their fish and they planned to move towards their home. On the way to home, they decided the things they needed to purchase to make a great dinner. They stopped in a nearby grocery store. While purchasing the foodstuffs, the lady saw her husband on the other side of the street. She was a bit amazed to see him at the centre of the town during afternoon.

“Radha, your father is nearby. Let me tell him to reach home early this evening so that we all can enjoy the hot, delicious food. Till then, you purchase the items”, she said moving towards the street.

Before she reached him, he had already moved far away. She hastily coursed the street only to find few people handing him some currency notes. She was puzzled because it was she who sold fish and earned money. In order to get hold of the happenings, she tried listening the proceedings from some distance.

“I won’t give you more than three thousand rupees. That’s more than what we usually give.” one of the black-goggled person told.

“Sir, I think it is quite less for such a beautiful piece. Can’t you give me five hundred more? Please!” he cautiously argued with a sheepish smile.

“No, Hari. Now you are asking for too much.” the other person clarified.

“Sir, haven’t you seen my daughter? Isn’t she worth five hundred more? And what difference will it make to wealthy people like you? Please understand sir. Five hundred more can confirm my liquor for 3-4 more days. Samjho Saab!”

“This bloody won’t leave without five hundred more. A beautiful girl at this price is not a bad deal. I will make sure she fetches us much more than that.” One of those persons whispered in other’s ear.

“OK Hari, three thousand five hundred done! I have already paid you two thousand. You will get the rest once you hand over the lass to me. So, when shall I visit you?”

“Thank you, sir. That is so kind of you. You can take her away tonight when everybody around would be sleeping”, Hari replied.

“OK, we will be there in time.”

The lady was horrified with his conversation. She somehow protected herself from her husband’s vision and hurriedly moved towards her daughter.

“What has happened Ma? Why are you in such hurry?” asked Radha watching her mother moving so fast towards her.

“Nothing, my daughter. Let’s move towards home.”

“Fine. Let me take the foodstuffs with me.”

On the way back home, there were no words on her lips. She somehow stopped her eyes from moistening. She frequently slowed down, saw her daughter from behind and then gathered momentum to match Radha’s footsteps. She kept thinking about the past when her child was born. How happy her husband and she were! How frequently they argued over the resemblance of their child’s face with theirs. She was thinking about the day when she had fought with her husband while choosing a name for their child. She recalled the bliss on Hari’s face when Radha had walked on her feet for the very first time.

To be continued...

Oasis

Once upon a time, there lived a spirited and inquisitive young man in a small community on the periphery of a hot and rigorous desert. He had to travel miles to collect small amount of water for his day-to-day living. The water that he usually obtained used to be full of dust and mostly tasteless. He always dreamt of getting some cool, sweet water that could bring heavenly respite to his athirst heart. But he didn’t know where his dream aim lied. Fortunately for him, one day, he came to know that a holy saint had visited his community. He went to that saint and told him about the dream of his life and asked if he could help him in his quest for a pool of water that could satisfy him. The saint told him that such a destination lied on the other side of the desert. The young man’s eyes lit up. But the saint also monished him about the perils that he could face while crossing the desert. But he was determined enough to face every hurdle; to defy every challenge. He prepared for his venturous trip and left the community the next morning with roaring spirits.

The first few days were marked with immense exuberance. His head was high; his feet moved fast, his body knew no bounds. But as the pursuit progressed, his resources started falling short. But he refused to look down. Even the bold sandstorms couldn’t descend his stalwart liveliness. During his trip, he saw several oases that served as places for rest during callous heated days. The oases were surrounded by nice green carpets of cushy grass. The ponds at the backyard of the oases acted as the sources of water. The water that they provided was not the cleanest but they certainly served as respite in that dry desert. The young man was thirsty and hungry as well. But he didn’t care about spending any time at those stations. Reaching the other side of the desert was the only aim of his trip.

As he progressed, his body started showing signs of vulnerability due to lack of food and water. His feet started feeling the weight of his body. His eyes were marred by extreme heat. The strong wind blowing across the desert was adamant to blow him away. He badly needed some life-saving water. At that time, he didn’t care about the sweetness of the water. He looked back but he had moved far away from the oases. He couldn’t even think about retrieving back to one of those oases. He was on the verge of a starving death.

He fell on his knees. Suddenly, he felt the vestige of a human being beside him. He looked to his right and found the saint standing nearby. The saint asked him what arrested his avid march. The young man described the whole journey to him but was still clueless about the fact that despite his extreme vigor and young body, he couldn’t reach his goal. The saint smiled and told him that though he showed great courage and energy to chase his dream, he didn’t plan his journey well; he didn’t show respect to the resources that he needed to reach the destination. The frantic avidity to enjoy only the ultimate victory protected him from the small chunks of felicity that lied on the course of victory. He had got the lesson from his angel. And then, his fatigued eyes tardily shut down in peace…

There is no point burning firecrackers during explosions. Its sound is pronounced only if kindled during pin drop silence...

My Shadow

When the sun brings a pleasant morning with itself
My shadow starts fabricating itself to accompany me

When the ignited rays show their full strength on my face
My shadow cleverly hides itself behind me

When I turn my face to save myself from the scorching sunrays
My shadow slyly comes in front of me to make its presence felt

When the sun gets overhead and beams unkindly
My shadow tries to dissolve itself into my arms

When dusk comes closer and light starts to fade
My shadow lengthens itself and prepares to go away

When my nervous feet move through darkness looking for a company
My shadow smartly fuses itself into the gloom leaving me alone

Next day when the sun brings a pleasant morning with itself
My shadow again starts fabricating itself to accompany me

I don’t know why I still call that unfaithful ‘my’ shadow….

All's Well That Ends Well

Oh yeah, all’s well that ends well! That’s what I uttered when I went through my GATE result in the afternoon. The result was supposed to be put on the internet at 10 in the morning but I was in no position to keep myself awake till 10 AM after going through (yet another) night out.

Though I am only a third year student, I decided to write GATE when I heard my batch mates murmuring something about writing some examination. I moved towards them and asked what that buzz was all about. They told me that they were ambitiously looking forward to GATE this year only. Since I had no clue about their unusual decision, I asked them why they were so eager to write the examination this time around. And I was more than convinced after listening to the reply.

“Yaar, agar is baar GATE clear nahin hua then we can get an extra chance to write the examination in our 4^th year. Moreover, we will get an idea of the examination pattern this time”, one of my mates said.

The reply sounded logical to me. It’s amazing how ridiculously our mindsets have changed after our three year stay in IIT! There used to be a time when we easily and sometimes, humorously solved every question in almost every given book for JEE. And today, even an examination of far inferior quality sparks a blaze of diffidence and even, some scare in our hearts. I think I didn’t tell you the fact that this bunch of fools (including me) belongs to dual degree program of chemical engineering. That’s why we all are so concerned about our nice monetary scholarships during the fifth year of our stay in IIT.

Anyway, let’s come back to the GATE drama. So, we eventually decided to purchase GATE forms. But, my dear, nothing comes free of cost in this world. The next hurdle was to arrange an amount of Rs. 1000. My contacts all around helped me out yet again. It hardly took me two minutes or so to arrange that relatively small amount of money. I sound like some bhai in Mumbai. Don’t I? It is another matter that I haven’t paid back that amount to my ‘contact’ till now. I am planning to pay him back only when I get my first scholarship (lol). I hope he is not reading this. Hey reader, even today, I am need of some cash. Can you lend me few bucks? Please. I will return it back to you tomorrow, for sure.

I have this uncanny knack of deviating from the real matter. Sorry for that. Anyway, so the form was purchased and it was delivered at the GATE office on the evening of the scheduled deadline. I know I am among those impossible guys. There is no need to repeat that. Few more shocks are yet to come. Keep reading. After that evening, I had no clue about the date of examination. Life went on with usual ease and carelessness.

“Abhi to bahut din baaki hain yaar”, we normally told each other. But, the irony is that time shrinks at impossible rate. Months reduced into weeks and weeks contracted into mere few days. It was time to purchase the book to prepare for the examination. I went to Bersarai, looked for a book that comprised last ten years’ question papers but the book wasn’t available in the bookshop. The guy in the shop told me to visit the shop on the next day. What the heck! Who cared to visit him again on the next day? Time was flying by and I was in my notorious I-don’t-care mood. Finally just five days were left and my mate shook me up.

“Yaar, ab to sirf 5 din baaki hain. Ab to book khareed le. Fir saath mein padhte hain. Maine bhi abhi tak kuchh nahin padha hai. 2 log saath mein padhenge to kuchh kar lenge examination hour mein”, my mate told me. He tried his best to convince me.

It was time to purchase the book. I went to the shop again. This time, luckily (rather unluckily), I got the book. It cost me a hefty amount of Rs. 90. Goodness me, these books have turned so costly these days (lol). But only purchasing the book can’t serve the purpose; it has to be read as well. I brought it to my room and placed it nicely on the shelf and didn’t see it for next few days. Now it came down to the last night before the examination. I could feel the heat of the moment. I removed the dust from the cover of the book and solved question papers of last few years. In my case, the word ‘few’ means ‘two’. That was more than enough. Then, one of my friends signed into messenger and I can leave anything to talk to her. And I mean it when I say anything. Oopss!!! I talked to her for an hour or so and when I told her that I was supposed to write an examination the next day, I didn’t know that I was inviting an avalanche. She was all over me. So, I signed off after promising that I would study. I tried but you know, I couldn’t go on for too long. It was time for a break. I decided to go to sleep after playing a game of tennis on my computer. You can easily guess what happened thereafter. If you can’t guess, well, for your information, yours truly spent whole night playing games on the comp. Yes! I went for a night out. I know you are again pulling off your hair. But sorry, I can’t help. I am what I am (lol again).

Finally, the much awaited D-day arrived. (Was I really waiting for that day to come???) I woke everyone up. Usually, others wake me up but since I went for a night out, it was my turn to wake them up. Then we went out for a picnic..err…I mean for writing the exam. It was no less than the fun we usually muster during a picnic. All the examinees in the room allotted to me were at least 5 years elder to me and I looked like odd-man-out…may be, odd-child-out. The lady there for invigilation came to me and asked if I were in the correct place. I looked around and said that I was there for the examination only. She still couldn’t believe me. It was only when I showed her my admit card did she accept my words. It was quite humorous. While I was writing the examination, she came to me and told that I looked like an 18 year old baby. Baby??? How can she call me a baby? I really hated her words.

But I purposefully wrote during those three meaningful hours. I used all my pre-IIT problem solving skills, for I have hardly learnt anything in academics during my last three years’ stay in IIT. I came back to my room and I hoaxed some of my friends by telling that I didn’t turn up at all for the examination. Knowing the kind of guy that I am, most of the people believed me! Then, I cleared the fog. I had pulled their legs yet again.

Now, after getting the result, and after a comfortable success in GATE, I don’t regret my night out, my carelessness, my outspoken desire to talk to my friends. I know I don’t waste my time when I talk to my friends, when I go for a night out, when I show some carelessness. This is what I call ‘a careless care’!

Now I am planning to throw a party. Be there at time. I know you are wondering “where and when?” For the answer, contact me! Cheers!!!

A Lively Game, A Gamely Life

Every evening, when the classes get over, a bunch of zealous guys gather in the backyard of a hostel to enliven themselves; to regain the energy that is lost throughout the day. Two of the guys are chosen as captains and two teams are created. Toss is called and the teams get ready for a game of cricket. For these guys, it no longer remains a game. It becomes a combat of existence. The small playground turns into a battlefield. Players mould themselves into paladins. The rules of the game are made stricter. Discipline is the name of their revived format of the game. Playing over-aggressively is considered as grave a crime as playing too defensively. Every run scored is cheered and every wicket taken is celebrated. Even a minor error in the field is followed by bitter vociferous shouts from every corner. Opponent players sledge each other. Each player is supposed to be on his toes. This game is not for light-hearted people. Frequent burning eye contacts and nerve racking comments get the adrenaline in the veins flowing at impossible speed. One can easily feel the heat of the moment. Complacency is lethal in this territory. A lax player is shown the gate. The sharks of the game swallow the small fish. There is no hiding place in this warfare. Each one of players is ready to draw the first blood. Every wound gifted to the opposition is applauded by the teammates. Anything like spirit-of-the-game is not recognized in such fierce battles. If one can’t fight, he is supposed to expire. Controlling the happenings becomes the call of the hour. Even the players of one team compete healthily against each other. It brings the best out from everyone. Warriors in that battlefield struggle hard to win; win at any cost. The better equipped, more unified team wins the competition. And every loss is taken on the heart and it creates an opportunity for the opposition to take pride and make mockery of the losing team. Sarcastic comments are passed to the losers. They get nasty and show no mercy, for they receive none. But the best part of this whole situation is that everything is done within the pre-determined laws. Even the slightest deflection from these rules is not entertained and badly criticized.

Similar is the case with our lives. In fact, life constitutes several such battles. Just the form and the format of the battles change. One always competes with organisms around itself for survival. More the number of battles one wins, the longer he survives. One who can’t adapt to the extreme conditions doesn’t suit this place. Nature doesn’t celebrate fragile creatures. It’s all about deceiving precarious situations and coming out with flying colors. Victory is synonymous to survival. History announces the fact that a species that couldn’t shape itself according to the environment ceased to exist. Endurance is a mixture of aggress and defense. Any threat to our motive of survival should be curbed. And if this approach doesn’t prove handy, then only defense mechanism comes into play.

Sometimes, even the healthiest species terminates. Thanks to some bug in the programming of the forces of nature which are beyond our control. We know it better as luck. At times, this mysterious force assists the weaker species and hence, allows it some space to exist. And when it gets cruel, it ruins the strongest giants. But it is something we will never get hold of. It’s cheesy but we are forced to respect this irrepressible power as we have no other choice. What we can do is to be prepared to defy ourselves from every form of menace and develop an unsurpassable defense mechanism and hope that nature doesn’t play its unenviable, unloved game.

But the irony is that we ourselves are the biggest threat to our race. As said above, over-aggressiveness proves as fatal as anything else. We have done well, till now, to defend ourselves against other races capable of destroying our existence but the lust of conquering everything that this universe presents and the unhealthy competition among human beings has developed such a situation that we have lost our vision to distinguish between peril and vitality and thus, we are facing the danger of self-destruction. We human beings are our richest resource and we need to preserve it. We dream of discovering life on other heavenly bodies but if we can’t respect lives of our own fellow beings, the quest on other stations of universe will lead us nowhere….

A Judge

It is around 12:30 AM and despite my best efforts to sneak into the dream world, I am here writing a post. The happenings during last few days have left me sleepless, restless and more deplorably, hopeless. This current state is not very uncommon to me. Such a trauma hits me every now and then. And sadly, it takes me quite a while to come out of such woeful situations. I hope it won’t take me so long this time around. It all started when I was talking to one of my mates about my usual nagging problem of going-into-a-shell when things go horribly wrong, and his response was—“Come on friend, you think about a hell lot of things. That’s your problem!” And he disappeared with a cautious smile on his face. I had no words for him. He had left me speechless.

Not too many people empathize emotions. And it hurts when people whom one considers close to himself come up with such savage replies. So, how do we define friends? How are they different from acquaintances? People usually consider those people as their friends whom they hang out with, whom they celebrate their birthdays with, whom they often talk with, whom they share SMS jokes with, and most appropriately, whom they enjoy being with. But, usually, that enjoyment level and henceforth, the relationship start deteriorating once a person starts taking his friend for granted. Most people in this highly materialistic and practical world seek enjoyment from everything and every relationship they are associated with. But when a person needs some constant help from his friend, the relationship is usually pounded. Promises start to vaporize, the everyday-hanging out gives way to avoidance and the popular saying “A friend in need is a friend indeed” becomes a burden. That’s the nature of this modern era!

I was going through one of the forwarded mails in my inbox that talked about a person who CAN’T be considered as a friend. It goes like this…

I am not your friend if:

• You have to think before you speak to me.
• My presence ever makes you feel uncomfortable.
• You have to thank me for everything I do for you.
• You have to say sorry for everything that you don’t do.
• You have to ask me for favors.
• You think I would not be curious to know your new philosophy of life.
• You go by what I say and do not understand what I don’t say.
• You think that listening to your dreams would put me to sleep.
• You would rather keep quiet when you really want to talk.
• You hesitate to ask me to stay back when you think we should be together.
• You take too much time to tell me what I mean to you.

Sounds captivating... Does it not?

People usually use a number of adjectives for their friends like—best friend, close friend, good friend, very good friend and what not. A person even went further to define a bad friend! All these adjectives sound ludicrously eccentric to me. As far as I am concerned, a given person is either my friend or NOT my friend. These are two mutually exclusive sets. The worshipful word ‘friend’ is self-explanatory. It doesn’t need any adjective to pronounce its vitality. But I have seen people who tend to ignore one friend in the presence of another and people to whom a new friend matters more than an old one. There are also few characters who force their friendship upon others. I hope the concerned people are reading this and recognizing themselves.

Let’s imagine how those satirical people might be differentiating their friends. I suppose that person might consider one his best friend if he avoids all eleven above mentioned characteristics, a very good friend if he nullifies say, eight of those points, a good friend if he keeps off five of those and a bad friend if he annuls three or less points in the list. Isn’t that ridiculous? But no matter what I say, people do differentiate between friends. Moreover, they often misread acquaintanceship as friendship. I have learnt the hard way that there is a definite, sharp line that separates these two relationships. Experience is a cruel teacher because she gives the test first, the lesson afterward. But the scars painted by this teacher on the face of life always remind us the mistakes we had committed in the past. And I am glad that I am learning this lesson sooner than later. But I must accept that the pace at which I am learning this prowess is ridiculously sluggish.

Though one can’t judge every person perfectly, one can always get better with experience. The more you get hurt, the more you learn about the ‘techniques’ of choosing friends. It might sound over-optimistic and even idealistic. But at the end of the day, it certainly proves worthful. A cautious and calculated approach while choosing friends can do wonders. We human beings have developed all kinds of institutions where we can learn different arts; be it engineering or dancing or managing business issues but it is pity that we have never been able to evolve schools that can teach us the ways of judging people in a sublime manner. I wish we had few such ‘refuges’…