First semester
Hey, I know you! You were my class mate in my senior secondary school for about one year and then you went to that high school, I went elsewhere. I knew you studied in that college because one of my tuition friends from pre-university (11th and 12th) was in that same class. And now we're back in the same class! God, you've changed.
Seniors - that one is my friend's sister's classmate's brother.
Wow! So the Inter-Collegiate festival is coolly called a fest. And just what the hell is a workshop? Uniform, again?! Ohmygawd, this is a clerk's dress!
Internals for average 25. OK, my next internal is on next month, same date. Better start preparing.
Exam - most of them have bitten their fingers so much that they are no more nails on the fingers.
Second semester
Oh god, not again you. I've had enough with you in my workshop class.
Seniors - wow, just look at them running for interviews and project stuff. When will I ever be a professional like them?
Fest again, yippie!! Something worth to see. The brown uniform is no more brown, its more like an auto-driver's dress.
Internals, alright. Three weeks to go, pull up your sleeves.
Exam - Gotta study harder than last time.
Third semester
Actual lab work. OK. The system isn't starting, maybe chanting "Open sesame" might work.
God, oh god! Output please, come on!
Fest, shall we go?
No more brown uniforms!
Hey, I just realized I'm in second year!
Internals - Two weeks - what should I be studying and what should I chuck?
Exams - Why did they put this subject in the syllabus?
Fourth semester
Boring classes!! Yawn!
Time to get lab manuals inside observation books.
I wore brown uniforms?!
Oh, the internals are up. Wonder what subjects do I have this time?
Exams - Useless university. Reval results come after your marks card with lesser marks do. And I gotta apply again! Sniff.
Fifth semester
Classes? They still exist for us?
Time to see who else's executed the program we have to do today.
Internals - Not back again. Fine, I will study!
Placement - Formal dress. Check. Great hair. Check. Smile. Check. How will I fare? Gulp.
Exams - Routine torture. Let's just finish it.
Sixth semester
Just what the heck is 75% attendance in third year?
The year of pen-drives! Who cares about writing programs?
Internals - There are internals this week. Wonderful, I was thinking of bunking.
Placement - Companies are no more useless than College is.
Exams - Xeroxed question papers are worth more than one single text book/notes is.
Seventh semester
Final year! Seniors! Hmm, come to think of it...there's no difference.
Our juniors are better than us? That's alright, anyway the college never had proper priorities and interests in the first place.
Lab - One day, all programs, no execution, observation and record books corrected. Job over.
Internals - What test do we have tomorrow? I'll read this portion, you read the other one.
Exams - Sleepless nights.
Eighth semester
Lifted code. Working well. Seminars done. Project - a closed chapter.
We'll utilize the rest of the time to see more fests in colleges whose names I just got to know.
Internals - Stepping in the class. Internals? Why didn't anyone tell me? Alright, let me sit next to that geek there.
Exams - Crappy things. Help from old exam papers. Same question means luck or the measure of your creativity in answering.
UNCLE HILLBILLY
Sometimes retirement takes away all. And I mean all. Uncle Hrishikesh, or as my cousin calls him - Uncle Hillbilly, is at best at his outstanding-yet-effortless potrayal of a person who's out of place. I repeat, retirement takes things off. Even good dress-sense. He came over to meet me before leaving back to his nest in Darjeeling. And again, tactless, he came to visit me while I was in college working over a project, with (god forbid!) abysmal clothes.
My peers gaped at him. One of them even said, "NO! You have to ask permission from the head of the institution for us to donate some money". He replied, with distorted vision at the ceiling, "Eh?! Donate, no miss, I don't donate a thing. I sell very good antiques in Darjee though. You want a very nice scarf to cover yourself with warmth, don't you miss? I have a very old one, but warm one...". He went on until I pulled him out of the room, leaving my peer with the look of incredulity shining across her face.
"What are you doing here?", was all I could express my ingratitude of seeing him in my workplace. "Come to visit you, neffie. Last visit before I leave to Darjee". Like you won't come back again, thought I.
But before I could actually express this deep regression of mine, he unfortunately said, "Introduce me to your friends. I might find someone who would try my antique comics of Chacha Choudhary. You young kids love them". I cried with horror! I retorted, "Uncle!! No way!".
"But you loved reading them when you was a kid. I still have those collections", he said. "I was a kid then, I am not one now!". And my embrassing situation was to descend upon this moment. He said, "Oh you are still my neffie-kid. Give your Uncle a clap!". My friends sniggered with mirth. One of them was even crying with joy. My teeth shattered in disgust. "It's called a hi-fi! Alright, I'll introduce you to them, but no comics deal. And you can't say no or buts for that!". He smiled and followed me as I said everyone's name and told them Hrishikesh was my uncle. They all mockingly replied in unison, (just when you need to be embarassed once again) "Hi Uncle Hrishkesh!!". One of them pipped, "Absolute joy to meet you! Too bad Shanky's missing this". Okay, looks like today will be my 'strip-your-happiness-away' day.
Uncle started his wonderful talks, "You know, I know this nephew of mine ever since he was like this old". He gestured a height. "And I have seen him almost naked when his cousin pulled off his pants while they fought over a bike-ride". Oh no! Disaster! I cannot believe he mentioned that in front of my friends, which even included giggling girls.
To evade any more of it, I thank god for making one of my teachers call me for some work. It was rather mixed, I felt bad for my adventures were to be revealed with a clear limelight, but good because I hadn't to face them in front of me. Then came another feeling, and I smiled. Heaven knows how much my friends will be tortured by him.
After sometime, fifteen minutes almost, I joined them back. He went rattling on, but now not about me. Bingo, his antique shop and how sweet that he equally tortured them. They were tired, the guys absconded saying they'd been called now. But the girls weren't easily provided that advantage.
They were clearly torn between the temptation whether to buy antique jewellery at the cost of 10 rupees or whether to avoid doing business with an almost stranger and run away from his orating lecture. Oh dear girls, poor you!
Then, the teacher who had thought my uncle was a nobody saw me, him and the girls and realized he was a known person to one of us. I whispered to her, "He's my Uncle ma'am. He's come to see me". She replied, "Oh! Sweet of him, call him inside the department. I want to talk with him". Oh boy! A new headache. Wonder if she'll lecture him to being tactful.
Said I in a barely audible voice, "Uncle, my teacher wants to speak with you and is inviting you inside the department. Shall we go?". "What? You have a cheetah that speaks and is inviting you to dinner? Son, cheetahs eat people! Surely, you must have known that!". "Okay, that's it. Come with me, Uncle", and I pulled him inside and told him to shush.
My teacher started to speak, "This is very nice of you sir, to have come to the institution, and see how your nephew works here". "Ah well, miss, to be frank, I don't suffer from constipation and yes, I agree that very few have that hard luck to face it". She rolled her eyes. I adjusted, "He means he's happy to be here. You see, my Uncle is a little hard of hearing, so it would be better if you could speak a little more loud". Another teacher quipped, "Well, that's how we work in class, don't we? Make ourselves loud and clear. Nice to meet you sir".
"Yes, ma'am. But why do you want to be a cloud in the rear? Seems a very foolish idea to me". "No Uncle, she said she's pleased to meet you". "Oh! So I am the cloud in the rear? Nice to meet you too miss".
All of them smiled at him, and yet he smiled back with no realization that he was being laughed at.
She then gave me an inquiring look. I whispered to her, "You see, my Uncle here has suffered from a sad thing in the past. And ever since...". She interrupted, "I understand. [With a louder tone]What do you do for a living, sir?".
"Oh me. I sell antique things in Darjee. Used to live in Mumbai with my wife, Sadhana. She was taken away in the serial blasts [Collective sigh over here]. I wasn't. Maybe I had to live with selling antiques and meeting Adi, once every six months". "Who's Adi?", said another peer. I replied, "He's almost my cousin, a naval Officer". The girls oo-hed to this. And the guys, "Wicked! That must be an adventurous life, dude".
"Yes, yes. Life is wicked. But nevertheless, I've never met anyone so strong and silent like Adi. He just comes over and talks to me about how his life is empty, with nothing extravagant to cover it up. Yes sir, life is sad". I couldn't help a grin, one minute Aditya's a hero. The next minute he's living a Spiderman's life.
Shanky, one of the guys. exclaimed, "But all the fight in the sea must be amazing! It's not like some charity work some people want to take up!", he added looking at a girl. At this point Asha, the same girl, who is passionate about charity, lashed back, "Charity is much better to take up than speaking ill words to strangers like you. And even speaking ill about your own friends". She stormed out of the room, without another word.
Iliaz, another bloke, guffawed, "Well, that went very well smoothly. God alone knows how long will you take to realize to become friends back. What if tomorrow you land up in a trouble yourself Shanky and Ash does the charity for you?". Shanky looked like he'd been slapped in public. He went off the room like Asha, and said no reply. Iliaz laughed again, some of the girls were stating that he should not have spoken like that. Iliaz never cared, he waved his hand and said, "Come now girls, he's behaving rather rudely to himself".
"Why, yes yes, it is rude of myself to having been stayed for long time, I must leave. My train to Darjee is in about one and half hours. Oh my, is the watch right? It says 2.30". He'd been wearing this one past three years, a stopped watch. "It's stopped Uncle, and I don't know for long are you going to look at 2.30 everytime and say the same thing".
We bade goodbye to the teachers and walked towards the main gate. We saw Asha standing on her own looking at the sky. When I said a hi, she turned to look at us with an obvious sad-heart-but-grimacing-face look. She replied my hello. I asked, "What are you doing here?". She said, "Nothing. I umm..was thinking of my mum who I lost in a car crash". I spoke nothing. My Uncle, who was till now gazing at the sky himself after looking at what Asha had been looking at, said "You know, sky changes clouds and colours sometimes. Once you have roaring thunders and then there is later a rainbow. Life is almost the same". Perhaps that was the most appropriate thing he'd ever mentioned in over a decade.Even if he was oblivious to what Asha had just said.
Asha looked at him and smiled. "Uncle, you're right. Even though knowing this fact, we understand it better when it's felt. Thanks Uncle and have a safe journey and take good care of yourself". She just left with a nod, back to the college.
"Uncle, even if she was hiding something more. You were very good!". And this was a genuine surprise for me. He added slowly, "You know Asha likes that young man". "What?!", said I. "Yes, she likes him very much and is worried she might lose him. He likes adventure, like he mentioned".
"But who....Shanky! Waitaminit, how do you know this?", I asked, with a definite loudness in my voice and good he understood what I asked. "Didn't you notice? That's why that young man was very rude earlier in the department of cheetahs. Beats me, why they call it cheetahs. You even asked me what was wrong. I knew then too. When you left me as I talked to your friends, this girl kept looking at something below and I saw the same young man there. I just thought he would be here standing somewhere up here, and she was looking at him once again. I couldn't find him, but I noticed that the sky's looking bad. It might rain in some time. I better reach the railway station earlier. Well, nephew, nice knowing your friends, see you".
I stood silenced. He doesn't know where his first shirt button fits. But he knows this.
I asked him, "How could you realize that she likes him? It might have been that they may have fought against each other". He replied, "Neffie, at your age, people actually fight when they want to be proven they're right. But they say such rude stuff against others pretending that they don't care, because they care a lot. I have crossed your age a million light years away. Oh! The light's fading away. Bye-bye neffie!".
I only said, "Bye Unc...le" which faded into the atmosphere. But he started with his walk.
Maybe Uncle is more experienced in thoughts than rather just age. He continued walking on, he exclaimed with yell, "Why is it 2.30?".
Well, maybe not so experienced.
Me, as me and ghost
Slash. Red marks on the wrists. A woman runs away from the line. Next, a young girl. Another slash. A huge line of kneeling women with hair let down and men, actually more of women, wait for their turn to be hit on hands. A weird looking man with a black, dusty overcoat walks over them with a huge rope in his hand hitting each person knelt with it.
This is not an old Bollywood movie. It is happening in real in remote villages of India. And this incident just narrated is in fact a festival, to those who believe that they possess a devil in them and this is a sure way to ward the ghosts off.
Back to the village scene. I meet an old lady who seems warm enough in the crowd to explain what this is all about. She said, "This is one of the most auspicious days for us all. We will become blessed by god because we are scaring the ghosts away, and by doing so our families will unite, it will grow. Some find their suitors easier by doing this". I asked her, "But isn't this all a made up stuff? I mean, if you really wanted your families to reunite, all you needed to do was talk to them. Finding suitors can become easier if you started educating yourself and communicated to the world outside this village".
"You city people are always like this. You rationalize everything that comes your way. What is wrong in thinking of a supernatural thing? Have you never felt or feared for existence of a ghost?", she retorted. I said, "I have feared, but because of the ignorance of what it is and what stories people have told me. Mind you, they were stories. I have no absolute fact that they're actual ghosts I could believe in". "And that is true, because even I've seen one". Now things started amusing me. I asked her what happened, how did it happen, and how exactly a ghost looks like.
She rolled her already big eyes in enthusiasm and narrated the story to me. "I was coming back from a village fair with my two sisters. It was almost midnight. Actually it was the time the ghosts wander through the world". Get real lady, I won't fall for that. Like where do the ghosts go in the remaining hours of the day?. She ploughed, "It is a lonely place where I live. Near my home is a banyan tree where I saw the ghost hovering in mid-air without feet. It was pearly white in colour and just faded away into darkness". "Hold it, if it emits a pearly glow, how come it faded?", I asked. "You fool! Ghosts can appear and disappear!". Yeah, we don't need your wand Harry Potter. But she didn't stop. "When I went back to my home, I heard noises and anklet sounds". I really was getting amused over here, one minute ghosts don't have feet, next minute they wear anklets. "Believe me! They exist and by doing only this makes the ghosts go away. I'm most sure of it, definitely, definitely!". She started gasping for breath, protuded her eyes out. And then she added this, "I didn't do anything. It was all her fault. Do not punish me". She held her hands to protect her face.
Suddenly, I began to realize something. I spoke clearly and firmly, "No, you must be punished. You have been found guilty and will pay a price for that". She started crying "No, no, no, no! Spare my life, please. I will not succumb to your rules and regulations, its my life!" She sure made a great deal of noise. People surrounding us yelled, "A ghost! A ghost! She must be slashed". Then I cried, "No! Leave her alone. She must be treated first". I pulled her away from the crowd, that wasn't easy, thanks to the men who kept saying I was doing a sinful act, and women who wailed and cried and had a tug-of-war with me. Luckily I found my car nearby and pushed the lady inside and then started the vehicle and drew away from the place.
She kept gibbering away about having been drugged, having to face the society because of losing out on a marriage. Then came the most important fact that I was looking for, she said this, "Being alone is a power, no one to give reasons for, no one to be answerable for". I asked her slowly, "Just how many days did you have to do that?".
She replied to my surprise, "I have been living as an outcast for most of my life, I lost my sisters when I had been to a village fair". The truth now shone. She could not disassociate reality from her hallucinations. And why, because she became an outcast in her earlier life. And it is because of this she assumed ghosts too. People here do not have much education to support their thinking. Naturally, it would be limited.
Right in front of my very eyes, I see two different contrasting worlds emerging. One with Airtel releasing their digital TV and the other with an entire village worrying about ghosts ruining their family lives. Just where did the distance start? Or is it even a distance or our ignorance? Okay, there are urban people who do get scared of ghosts. But trust me, its not the ghosts that they're scared of, but the thought of it. Majority of us worry because we still don't know what it truly is.
I am right now, myself, writing this idea of a ghost. The true me has been covered by several layers of complexities, and I become reflected differently to each and every one. This is a natural thing for us humans to do, by default. This is a sign to hide our vulnerablities to people who we really don't know and/or don't want them to know us. We have secrets, things not to be told and stuff like that. One cannot hold everything in the mind, therefore we have a family and freinds. I, now have a tiny worry about my own self in my life that no one knows about. At this point of time, I'm stranded alone, with horrifying thoughts stuck with me. At first, I try to calm myself, hoping that good thoughts will take over me. Alas, no. The opposite happens and happens in exponential proportions. Until my mind has things under control everything is fine. But this is seriously a bad day. My mind loses the grip. I go against the rules of my own living. And now you see me, what do you reckon I am? A villager will say that a ghost has taken over me. A doctor would say I'm having my nervous breakdown. You, assuming that you're neither, will say I've gone mad!
More than proving the existence or non-existence of ghosts, it feels sad that even though we're growing up in technology ladder, we still have people who seem to me as stuck in time. Lost there back to those ages. Just exactly where is human existence leading us? Why are we truly building all this knowledge, discovering things, inventing new stuff?
This is not an old Bollywood movie. It is happening in real in remote villages of India. And this incident just narrated is in fact a festival, to those who believe that they possess a devil in them and this is a sure way to ward the ghosts off.
Back to the village scene. I meet an old lady who seems warm enough in the crowd to explain what this is all about. She said, "This is one of the most auspicious days for us all. We will become blessed by god because we are scaring the ghosts away, and by doing so our families will unite, it will grow. Some find their suitors easier by doing this". I asked her, "But isn't this all a made up stuff? I mean, if you really wanted your families to reunite, all you needed to do was talk to them. Finding suitors can become easier if you started educating yourself and communicated to the world outside this village".
"You city people are always like this. You rationalize everything that comes your way. What is wrong in thinking of a supernatural thing? Have you never felt or feared for existence of a ghost?", she retorted. I said, "I have feared, but because of the ignorance of what it is and what stories people have told me. Mind you, they were stories. I have no absolute fact that they're actual ghosts I could believe in". "And that is true, because even I've seen one". Now things started amusing me. I asked her what happened, how did it happen, and how exactly a ghost looks like.
She rolled her already big eyes in enthusiasm and narrated the story to me. "I was coming back from a village fair with my two sisters. It was almost midnight. Actually it was the time the ghosts wander through the world". Get real lady, I won't fall for that. Like where do the ghosts go in the remaining hours of the day?. She ploughed, "It is a lonely place where I live. Near my home is a banyan tree where I saw the ghost hovering in mid-air without feet. It was pearly white in colour and just faded away into darkness". "Hold it, if it emits a pearly glow, how come it faded?", I asked. "You fool! Ghosts can appear and disappear!". Yeah, we don't need your wand Harry Potter. But she didn't stop. "When I went back to my home, I heard noises and anklet sounds". I really was getting amused over here, one minute ghosts don't have feet, next minute they wear anklets. "Believe me! They exist and by doing only this makes the ghosts go away. I'm most sure of it, definitely, definitely!". She started gasping for breath, protuded her eyes out. And then she added this, "I didn't do anything. It was all her fault. Do not punish me". She held her hands to protect her face.
Suddenly, I began to realize something. I spoke clearly and firmly, "No, you must be punished. You have been found guilty and will pay a price for that". She started crying "No, no, no, no! Spare my life, please. I will not succumb to your rules and regulations, its my life!" She sure made a great deal of noise. People surrounding us yelled, "A ghost! A ghost! She must be slashed". Then I cried, "No! Leave her alone. She must be treated first". I pulled her away from the crowd, that wasn't easy, thanks to the men who kept saying I was doing a sinful act, and women who wailed and cried and had a tug-of-war with me. Luckily I found my car nearby and pushed the lady inside and then started the vehicle and drew away from the place.
She kept gibbering away about having been drugged, having to face the society because of losing out on a marriage. Then came the most important fact that I was looking for, she said this, "Being alone is a power, no one to give reasons for, no one to be answerable for". I asked her slowly, "Just how many days did you have to do that?".
She replied to my surprise, "I have been living as an outcast for most of my life, I lost my sisters when I had been to a village fair". The truth now shone. She could not disassociate reality from her hallucinations. And why, because she became an outcast in her earlier life. And it is because of this she assumed ghosts too. People here do not have much education to support their thinking. Naturally, it would be limited.
Right in front of my very eyes, I see two different contrasting worlds emerging. One with Airtel releasing their digital TV and the other with an entire village worrying about ghosts ruining their family lives. Just where did the distance start? Or is it even a distance or our ignorance? Okay, there are urban people who do get scared of ghosts. But trust me, its not the ghosts that they're scared of, but the thought of it. Majority of us worry because we still don't know what it truly is.
I am right now, myself, writing this idea of a ghost. The true me has been covered by several layers of complexities, and I become reflected differently to each and every one. This is a natural thing for us humans to do, by default. This is a sign to hide our vulnerablities to people who we really don't know and/or don't want them to know us. We have secrets, things not to be told and stuff like that. One cannot hold everything in the mind, therefore we have a family and freinds. I, now have a tiny worry about my own self in my life that no one knows about. At this point of time, I'm stranded alone, with horrifying thoughts stuck with me. At first, I try to calm myself, hoping that good thoughts will take over me. Alas, no. The opposite happens and happens in exponential proportions. Until my mind has things under control everything is fine. But this is seriously a bad day. My mind loses the grip. I go against the rules of my own living. And now you see me, what do you reckon I am? A villager will say that a ghost has taken over me. A doctor would say I'm having my nervous breakdown. You, assuming that you're neither, will say I've gone mad!
More than proving the existence or non-existence of ghosts, it feels sad that even though we're growing up in technology ladder, we still have people who seem to me as stuck in time. Lost there back to those ages. Just exactly where is human existence leading us? Why are we truly building all this knowledge, discovering things, inventing new stuff?
My slave
Your blood listens to my heartbeat
Your breath, controlled by my lungs
Your every move, watched by my radar
You eat, if I allow, only air
Oh how sweet it is to avenge like this!
Worse than a gruesome animal
You, my ego, are nothing but
A stinking thought for a better survival
Your mind is impulsed by me
Your living is decided by me
Your ideas are mere wishes
For it is I who channel them
Oh how sweet it is to avenge like this!
Fitting exactly like a slave
You, my ego, are nothing but
A perfect victim of my feudal system
Holding these reins
Empowering on you, sloth
is a feast to my life
Doubtlessly I need you
For if you not here
Which gullible skunk should I control?
Try as hard to escape, I know you will fail
For without me, you cannot even live
You are mine, yes you are
I hold our death button, till you survive
Your breath, controlled by my lungs
Your every move, watched by my radar
You eat, if I allow, only air
Oh how sweet it is to avenge like this!
Worse than a gruesome animal
You, my ego, are nothing but
A stinking thought for a better survival
Your mind is impulsed by me
Your living is decided by me
Your ideas are mere wishes
For it is I who channel them
Oh how sweet it is to avenge like this!
Fitting exactly like a slave
You, my ego, are nothing but
A perfect victim of my feudal system
Holding these reins
Empowering on you, sloth
is a feast to my life
Doubtlessly I need you
For if you not here
Which gullible skunk should I control?
Try as hard to escape, I know you will fail
For without me, you cannot even live
You are mine, yes you are
I hold our death button, till you survive
One moment, two stories...
I settle myself wondering about getting a good ride home might be possible or not. Me and my friend, lay estranged in a deserted road, I doubt we would even meet a mosquito. We both walk in silence and my friend cursing the blasted travel agency car for losing out over an inhabited land. The driver said he’d call the people of his agency. Both of us said that’ll take us a lifetime. “Crap! You don’t get traffic when you need one.”
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The bus is shaking and well loaded with travelers and outnumbering them is the heavy artillery of goods brought by petty salespeople and stinky fishes. Getting even an inched seat is a miracle. God’s grace, I have the window-sided one. And my only companion was my ipod. The only way I can fall is to break the metal barriers (if they are truly metal, that is). Still vibrating in the seat, my seat-mate seemed to possess an invigorating perfume. You’d rather call him a skunk.
Looking on forwards, there was a stop approaching and a person followed by another waiting to get on the bus. Really, how much do you think Indian vehicles can hold?!
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Phew, scorching sun. Complete lonely road. Puff. Pant. I said, “This should be called THE vacation”. Gulping some of that saliva in me, I rest down the transpired shades of a tree nearby. My friend couldn’t take it anymore. “Damn! We here are breaking our necks to find at least a place where we can find a transport and there in the city you get more than enough of the transport you need. Some vacation! This is getting worse than daily work.”
We continue walking, still cursing under our gasping breaths. After a half hour, we can hear some commotion behind some tall bushes on the right side of the road, where we hear a bus honking. My friend’s face glowed, “Finally, let me run ahead and find if we can get on it.” Dropping the heavy luggage on me, he ran towards it. I couldn’t make out what was happening behind the bushes. I walked patiently and reached the place only to find the bus leaving without me or my friend. “Darn you! This place is worse than a cemetery!”
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“Thank god, those guys were not allowed to enter. I doubt we would even have a place to breathe otherwise.” The bus rattled on much to find another stop after fifteen minutes.
People started pouring in without even hearing the driver’s plea about the number of people already inside. There was a silent fight and two roguishly-looking men spoke in the native language very seriously. I wondered what had happened. Then, all of a sudden the people who had just climbed the bus jumped out and shouted to other people in distance. Slowly, they started running towards the bus. Someone in the bus shouted something in fear and the passengers started dismounting in frenzy. Thinking that it might be better to stay for sometime in the bus and then leave might be a better option, I clutched tightly to my ipod and looking around what was going on.
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Fifteen minutes after the bus left us, we walked and walked till our feet got tired and sat down on a rock as a pitstop. Slowly, we heard noises and saw people running towards us screaming in terror. Both exchanged mystified glances. We could see a haze of grey over the clouds. My friend said, “Maybe a house or a community is burnt. Let’s see what’s happened.”
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The heat! It was getting onto me. Unbearable, searing heat. My skin started burning like molten lava. It was peeling off. My feet couldn’t withstand any longer. I started moving around crazily in the bus. People were screeching at the top of their voices. And yet I could hardly see a hand helping out for me. My senses were gradually losing out.
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We ran towards the source of noise. We even heard a police jeep racing on the road and yet it went past the horror of that noise. Bus on fire! People shouting out, some even trying their best to help people inside the bus. “Holy crap! Did you know we were turned down by that bus a quarter of an hour ago?!”, said my friend. I nodded my head in shocking silence. What if we had been in it. As I watched in horror, I could hear voices from inside the bus. Both of us ran to help them, but as we closed on in the bus, a rogue stopped us and told us to get out in the native language. “Are you insane?! There are people in there. We have to save them!”.
“You cannot do anything now, son”, said an elderly man with a skunk like stink on him. He was weak by small burns, alive nevertheless. He continued, “I was lucky enough to know their native language and even beckoned my fellow passenger to come out. He, on the other hand looked out of the window still wondering what was going on. This is an attack by some people of high power. It was meant to be a bandh today. Although the bus continued without that knowledge.”
“That is no reason to set buses on fire!” enraged my friend. And yet, we stood there with nothing to do but silently cry. After a while, the fire puts down itself and both of us still sat in the vicinity having mixed feelings. Lucky not to be in that fate and worry over the people who were stuck. I walked towards the debris, my friend did not wish to accompany. I stood there gazing at the selfish natures and thinking that one day, even the makers of such a dreadful sin will die. So will we. A tear flowed out as I saw an ipod with the earphone hanging out of one of the burnt windows.
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The bus is shaking and well loaded with travelers and outnumbering them is the heavy artillery of goods brought by petty salespeople and stinky fishes. Getting even an inched seat is a miracle. God’s grace, I have the window-sided one. And my only companion was my ipod. The only way I can fall is to break the metal barriers (if they are truly metal, that is). Still vibrating in the seat, my seat-mate seemed to possess an invigorating perfume. You’d rather call him a skunk.
Looking on forwards, there was a stop approaching and a person followed by another waiting to get on the bus. Really, how much do you think Indian vehicles can hold?!
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Phew, scorching sun. Complete lonely road. Puff. Pant. I said, “This should be called THE vacation”. Gulping some of that saliva in me, I rest down the transpired shades of a tree nearby. My friend couldn’t take it anymore. “Damn! We here are breaking our necks to find at least a place where we can find a transport and there in the city you get more than enough of the transport you need. Some vacation! This is getting worse than daily work.”
We continue walking, still cursing under our gasping breaths. After a half hour, we can hear some commotion behind some tall bushes on the right side of the road, where we hear a bus honking. My friend’s face glowed, “Finally, let me run ahead and find if we can get on it.” Dropping the heavy luggage on me, he ran towards it. I couldn’t make out what was happening behind the bushes. I walked patiently and reached the place only to find the bus leaving without me or my friend. “Darn you! This place is worse than a cemetery!”
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“Thank god, those guys were not allowed to enter. I doubt we would even have a place to breathe otherwise.” The bus rattled on much to find another stop after fifteen minutes.
People started pouring in without even hearing the driver’s plea about the number of people already inside. There was a silent fight and two roguishly-looking men spoke in the native language very seriously. I wondered what had happened. Then, all of a sudden the people who had just climbed the bus jumped out and shouted to other people in distance. Slowly, they started running towards the bus. Someone in the bus shouted something in fear and the passengers started dismounting in frenzy. Thinking that it might be better to stay for sometime in the bus and then leave might be a better option, I clutched tightly to my ipod and looking around what was going on.
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Fifteen minutes after the bus left us, we walked and walked till our feet got tired and sat down on a rock as a pitstop. Slowly, we heard noises and saw people running towards us screaming in terror. Both exchanged mystified glances. We could see a haze of grey over the clouds. My friend said, “Maybe a house or a community is burnt. Let’s see what’s happened.”
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The heat! It was getting onto me. Unbearable, searing heat. My skin started burning like molten lava. It was peeling off. My feet couldn’t withstand any longer. I started moving around crazily in the bus. People were screeching at the top of their voices. And yet I could hardly see a hand helping out for me. My senses were gradually losing out.
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We ran towards the source of noise. We even heard a police jeep racing on the road and yet it went past the horror of that noise. Bus on fire! People shouting out, some even trying their best to help people inside the bus. “Holy crap! Did you know we were turned down by that bus a quarter of an hour ago?!”, said my friend. I nodded my head in shocking silence. What if we had been in it. As I watched in horror, I could hear voices from inside the bus. Both of us ran to help them, but as we closed on in the bus, a rogue stopped us and told us to get out in the native language. “Are you insane?! There are people in there. We have to save them!”.
“You cannot do anything now, son”, said an elderly man with a skunk like stink on him. He was weak by small burns, alive nevertheless. He continued, “I was lucky enough to know their native language and even beckoned my fellow passenger to come out. He, on the other hand looked out of the window still wondering what was going on. This is an attack by some people of high power. It was meant to be a bandh today. Although the bus continued without that knowledge.”
“That is no reason to set buses on fire!” enraged my friend. And yet, we stood there with nothing to do but silently cry. After a while, the fire puts down itself and both of us still sat in the vicinity having mixed feelings. Lucky not to be in that fate and worry over the people who were stuck. I walked towards the debris, my friend did not wish to accompany. I stood there gazing at the selfish natures and thinking that one day, even the makers of such a dreadful sin will die. So will we. A tear flowed out as I saw an ipod with the earphone hanging out of one of the burnt windows.
Lady at the door
Knock, knock!, "Who's it?". Knock again, "May I know who that is?". "Just open the door!!!, I'm freezing over here".
I open the door to see myself as a shivering person with tattered shabby clothes. What the?. "Thank you very much. That was very polite and humane. I usually hate all these snippity snooping, mushy love, sympathy, but you opened the door because of your curiousity". You have no idea how much its increased now though. "You see, the very inportance of living is the curious nature of humans". Dang it! I opened the door for a sermon?? "Listen here ms. um whoever you are, I just opened the door because you said you were freezing. My buisness here is only to help you grateful with the thought that I'm not you". She smiles.(???)
"You're right, yes. But beyond the veils of buisness if not then emotions lies an in-built nature of pitying which I hate and you are deviod of it. This is the reason why I have come to you in the first place..". Hmm... interesting yet boggling. I like being praised like that."...and I know you love being nourished that way. You like it when someone talks you with the minute details of chivalry". Impressive. "May I know who you are?".
"Not now my dear, the time is too insignificant and you need to know more important things than who I might be. I understand you are a complex person with the idea that you have to be answerable to people, even though you hate it?"."Yes but I never asked for it. It was given to me". She pauses."I also understand you think that you're some kind of a lonesome hero who is on earth to make other people happy?" "Well, lets not put into that sense, but sometimes people get wary and dont understand me". "Thats exactly what you're doing..". She gave a smile."Yes, but listen lady, I have a reason". "Oh, others also do".
Hold it, she asks me to open the door and talks about me as if she knew me as a mother would. But I keep quiet and try to listen to her.
"I also know why you have changed into a person to whom everything interests yet you dont like it. You can bring a life into people yet you grope one for yourself. Face it girl, you've lost someone." Who?. "Yourself, your happiness, anger, sorrow, excitement have all become secondary to you and nothing stands in the top. No wonder you've become like this". All these words hit like a pang of guilt that I never pampered myself. "You're right. I have forgotten to love myself". "No, you haven't. There is still a hope. But that is only possible if you make a move and realise that whatever you dream, imagine, long for with so much love cannot happen always. Sometimes it gets too demanding to become someone else just because the other person would prefer you being that way. Sometimes people did like you, but they never got the chance to understand who you really are."
" It was unfair. But I assure you, the next moment in your life you will be a more grown person when you see it again. You will realise how to react with it."
"Will I ever get back that?", I choked. " This is life my dear. I tell you its a vicious circle. No one can bring back those happiness. Neither can you find a person who can do so. Because that phase of life was special and will remain special till your last breath exhales into the world. But I know one day you will look back at it with only smiles, no pain at all". "Thank you, ms.......?"
"I'm no one, but I just came to make you realise that you have a very bright future. Forget those erased writings and make a new one now. Everyday the sun rises and sets. Life is not only made of career,love,friends and responsibilities. You need to find out your identity and start packing for the voyage that you cannot even imagine". I was touched. I was crying for the first time on my own will because I wanted to. She din't force me, neither did I hate it. But every drop of tear was lightening my heart."Now let me say who I am". She heads to the door, opens it and stands there with a smile. " I was you just some moments back, when a lady, frozen and shabby, came to my place and told what I said to you now...."
I open the door to see myself as a shivering person with tattered shabby clothes. What the?. "Thank you very much. That was very polite and humane. I usually hate all these snippity snooping, mushy love, sympathy, but you opened the door because of your curiousity". You have no idea how much its increased now though. "You see, the very inportance of living is the curious nature of humans". Dang it! I opened the door for a sermon?? "Listen here ms. um whoever you are, I just opened the door because you said you were freezing. My buisness here is only to help you grateful with the thought that I'm not you". She smiles.(???)
"You're right, yes. But beyond the veils of buisness if not then emotions lies an in-built nature of pitying which I hate and you are deviod of it. This is the reason why I have come to you in the first place..". Hmm... interesting yet boggling. I like being praised like that."...and I know you love being nourished that way. You like it when someone talks you with the minute details of chivalry". Impressive. "May I know who you are?".
"Not now my dear, the time is too insignificant and you need to know more important things than who I might be. I understand you are a complex person with the idea that you have to be answerable to people, even though you hate it?"."Yes but I never asked for it. It was given to me". She pauses."I also understand you think that you're some kind of a lonesome hero who is on earth to make other people happy?" "Well, lets not put into that sense, but sometimes people get wary and dont understand me". "Thats exactly what you're doing..". She gave a smile."Yes, but listen lady, I have a reason". "Oh, others also do".
Hold it, she asks me to open the door and talks about me as if she knew me as a mother would. But I keep quiet and try to listen to her.
"I also know why you have changed into a person to whom everything interests yet you dont like it. You can bring a life into people yet you grope one for yourself. Face it girl, you've lost someone." Who?. "Yourself, your happiness, anger, sorrow, excitement have all become secondary to you and nothing stands in the top. No wonder you've become like this". All these words hit like a pang of guilt that I never pampered myself. "You're right. I have forgotten to love myself". "No, you haven't. There is still a hope. But that is only possible if you make a move and realise that whatever you dream, imagine, long for with so much love cannot happen always. Sometimes it gets too demanding to become someone else just because the other person would prefer you being that way. Sometimes people did like you, but they never got the chance to understand who you really are."
" It was unfair. But I assure you, the next moment in your life you will be a more grown person when you see it again. You will realise how to react with it."
"Will I ever get back that?", I choked. " This is life my dear. I tell you its a vicious circle. No one can bring back those happiness. Neither can you find a person who can do so. Because that phase of life was special and will remain special till your last breath exhales into the world. But I know one day you will look back at it with only smiles, no pain at all". "Thank you, ms.......?"
"I'm no one, but I just came to make you realise that you have a very bright future. Forget those erased writings and make a new one now. Everyday the sun rises and sets. Life is not only made of career,love,friends and responsibilities. You need to find out your identity and start packing for the voyage that you cannot even imagine". I was touched. I was crying for the first time on my own will because I wanted to. She din't force me, neither did I hate it. But every drop of tear was lightening my heart."Now let me say who I am". She heads to the door, opens it and stands there with a smile. " I was you just some moments back, when a lady, frozen and shabby, came to my place and told what I said to you now...."
THE DECIDER
The day was nearing to get over, the evening was a pleasant one. But tensions were running high as the final match drew near. Two rival teams, fighting for the top. The players were keeping up with their spirits and emotions. People had come over to just watch this spectacular battle. The anticipation was over, the waiting had finally got over. Glory was waiting for the winners.
To my dismay it started pretty bad. The first set, no matter how much my team tried lost out very badly. Anger was mounting up with many of them nearly to tears. The second set then started. The referee was ready, so were the opponents. "This is it, we have to win this set...." My breath was a little bit fast but steady. I was waiting all these days to just show them, to just win this one...and I am right here lost out with my team.
Then came a feeling which i still have no idea how to describe.
I started playing with only one determined focus, to play and get it right. Not bothered about what the world was doing, who were cheering, shouting, chanting, praying to win. I felt alone, as though i'm here to face a huge giant, the so called match. The game began with a new set. It shot off brilliantly with our team racing ahead to win. Everything was going with such a dream like pace, nothing seemed to enter into the heart, forget the brains.We showed them no mercy and won this set. YES!!!!! this is the way, we love the sweet smell of winning through hard work and great play.And the game stood now at a tie....
Now came the final and deciding set. Our game started very good just like the second one. We roared off to lead the opponents by a good number of points. The opponents couldn't believe what was happening. Our every move was a point more. We played like we had never before with people cheering away madly. Nothing seemed to stop us. But we did stop, the final result was that we lost.
We lost not because we did not play right but the reason was something else. Notice that I had said we were rival teams? That explains everything. Yet why did I write this in a blog? There was a feeling I said about, something that was much beyond my understanding. It just came to me as a breeze, told me.... Never fear for what might happen, just do what you think is right. And to this day, I have tried imbibing that spirit with almost everything but thats just a forced one. The real feeling is something extraordinary, it controls just about everything. You are no longer worrying about the future, you have forgotten the past. The only thing that matters is the present which is in your hands. You can change it or just live with whatever comes. The choice is yours.
To my dismay it started pretty bad. The first set, no matter how much my team tried lost out very badly. Anger was mounting up with many of them nearly to tears. The second set then started. The referee was ready, so were the opponents. "This is it, we have to win this set...." My breath was a little bit fast but steady. I was waiting all these days to just show them, to just win this one...and I am right here lost out with my team.
Then came a feeling which i still have no idea how to describe.
I started playing with only one determined focus, to play and get it right. Not bothered about what the world was doing, who were cheering, shouting, chanting, praying to win. I felt alone, as though i'm here to face a huge giant, the so called match. The game began with a new set. It shot off brilliantly with our team racing ahead to win. Everything was going with such a dream like pace, nothing seemed to enter into the heart, forget the brains.We showed them no mercy and won this set. YES!!!!! this is the way, we love the sweet smell of winning through hard work and great play.And the game stood now at a tie....
Now came the final and deciding set. Our game started very good just like the second one. We roared off to lead the opponents by a good number of points. The opponents couldn't believe what was happening. Our every move was a point more. We played like we had never before with people cheering away madly. Nothing seemed to stop us. But we did stop, the final result was that we lost.
We lost not because we did not play right but the reason was something else. Notice that I had said we were rival teams? That explains everything. Yet why did I write this in a blog? There was a feeling I said about, something that was much beyond my understanding. It just came to me as a breeze, told me.... Never fear for what might happen, just do what you think is right. And to this day, I have tried imbibing that spirit with almost everything but thats just a forced one. The real feeling is something extraordinary, it controls just about everything. You are no longer worrying about the future, you have forgotten the past. The only thing that matters is the present which is in your hands. You can change it or just live with whatever comes. The choice is yours.
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