He looked deep down in his heart, searching the reasons of the restlessness and the never-felt pain which was literally tearing out his soul from his physical body. In the cacophony of so many unanswerable questions, reasons were lying like half-lived fish, just taken out of the life of ocean. When reasons don’t seem obvious, passion starts reigning mind. But this passion was different in the sense that it was not for getting the reasons but getting out of the reasons... and the questions... and its damn answers. He saw his numb eyes, big nose and big dark-scattered hairs in the glass filled with dark liquid put above the table. The whirling of Fan, the flickering of tube light and the alcoholic smell, had made the ambience look like no less than a horror movie. He was lying like a lump of flesh on his easy chair, putting his legs above the table and one hand holding the glass and other in his lap. The packet of new classic cigarettes was lying down saying “smoking causes Cancer” sounding like the worst joke of his life. In one sip he finished the glass. He felt fire burning down his body. He could hear the pounding of his heart as if it was being repeatedly hammered. He tried to lift his hands but perhaps they were not his now. They did not move. He felt something pulling out him from his body and this pull was terribly unkind.
Grrrrrrrrrr-----His mobile vibrated. With all his effort he moved his eyes and saw number flashing “Mom”. Tears rolled down from his eyes. He felt so helpless. Thoughts started swirling into his mind. And these thoughts came like tornado, storming out everything. For the first time at the verge of dying and living he got scared of death. He got scared of missing the love; the beauty of life. Love comes like tornado. one can't resist it but can assist it. The horror of life turned into a wish to live eternity. Life was looking so beautiful in the eyes of his loved ones. He disdained himself of doing this. But he had already done it and there was no "ALT +Z". He felt something dawning upon him. Perhaps his soul was trying to come out of his ailing body. And at the next moment he got fainted.
“Life is beautiful”
“This inspiring book has not only made a world record for the most selling copies but also has changed the life of millions. And today, we are highly privileged to have the speaker, the author of this book, Siddhartha Kashyap, also the founder of LIB (Life is Beautiful) international welfare organisation.”
In the midst of thundering claps, a man, in his late 60s appeared at the podium. He had charismatic radiant eyes. He closed his eyes and felt the God inside, perhaps thanking him for giving his life back, 32 years ago.
Everyone comes here for special purpose. There are nothing like good and bad things. There are only “things” which shape us, forge us to be ready to serve our purpose.
Her spectacle ridden red eyes were trying to run away from the crowd as soon as possible. Every person was looking so alien, so dreadful. Her heart was pounding so fast, it felt it could come out anytime. She closed her eyes; took a long-breath; chanted a prayer, perhaps to stabilize her trembling soul. But it was of no use. In the high decibel of the noise she had already lost her ability to hear her own words. Somewhere at some meters away she found a corner. She moved towards the corner with her shuddering legs but alas! Her blurring eyes were proving too difficult to keep open. She fell down and in a few hours she was laying against white bed-sheet in the government hospital.
She didn’t know who took her there. She moved her eyes everywhere to search some known faces. But there was no one. Finally she closed her eyes.
So how are you feeling now?
She heard a male, soothing yet concerned voice, but not sure if it was for her or someone else. She opened her eyes slightly...As the image in front of her was misted down, she saw an young handsome man in his late 30’s standing beside her and looking directly into her eyes.
For a moment she was flabbergasted and then with shivering sound she murmured...
“Feeling okkk...”
There was a small gap. Questions were not being asked. But in between the space of the two there were so many questions swirling around.
“Thanks a lot for taking me to hospital. I don’t know what would have happened if you did not come.”
“It’s ok. It is not a big deal. Anyways I had called your dad when you were not conscious... got his number from your mobile.”
“By the way, you live in Sarnath. Then what were you doing here...?”
“I am Rishita, Professionally a teacher...I teach English, here in Sunbeam school.
And what do you do??”
“Me...?
I am Ajeet. I run a NGO who is working for social issues like begging, poverty, caste-ism etc."
“That’s the reason why you took me to a hospital.” She smiled...
“Not exactly...however it is part of my work... our NGO works also for women-empowerment.”
"Women-empowerment!!" She said with a sarcastic smile...
"What happened... is it a joke...??"
"Might be..."
She tried to say more and then put a sudden pause as she just wanted to choke the words coming out of her mouth...
Tell na...you seemed to have something to say... let it come... I want to know...
“Women’s Empowerment! Is it not a big word only to pronounce? Every year Government celebrates one day as women-empowerment day and start envisioning empowerment of women. Male-chauvinism is lying in the DNA of society. It is incurable. I hope when god would again create this world, women will get the equal status as men have.”
He was wondering what happened to her all of sudden. It seems that the fire inside her heart was just being translated into words....
He tried to calm her...and replied confidently but politely...
“I don’t know.............But.... Society is changing.... Our constitution has a provision of gender equality. Women are doing a marvelous job. Government has started new schemes. Education is changing the attitude of people. Once people get educated, I hope this would do a tremendous change in the structure of society.”
“So you are saying that Education will remove suffering of women. Do you any idea how women are being treated in corporate or any working institutions? Eve-teasing, molestation and vulgar comments have become part of their routine. The person who writes articles about the women-empowerment is charged with molestation. They say dowry is a crime; then can you tell me who is not criminal, even in your 'educated class' people. Society is not changing...it is just disguising...... camouflaging..."
"Oh! Come on...Many people are not taking dowry. Our laws are getting strict. I am running NGO and I know how many such cases have been handled by police."
"Then they must have gifts... :P"
"You are behaving like a misanthropist... I don’t know why? Anyways I cannot justify our society more. At most we can try to make it good if it is bad..."
"I cannot comment. I have lost all my faith to this society and its impotent laws."
As discussion was getting hotter, an old man in his late 60’s entered in the room. His worried face and moving eyes soon confirmed that he was her father.
"What happened to you dear...?"He said as he was about to cry...
"Nothing Dad...Just the weather...Days are too hot"
"Anyways he is Ajeet; he took me to the hospital..."
"Ajeet!!... Ajeet Saxena... (Pause for some seconds)..."
"So you are the son of K.K. Saxena..."
"Yeah! But how do you know...??"
"I know... just leave it..."
"Thank you so much for taking her to the hospital..."
Saying this, he lost his control on himself and tears trickled through the corner of his eyes... He could not believe that just two days ago the father of same person has rejected the proposal of marriage as he was not able to match his status...If he could give 2 lakhs more, he would have matched....He did not know if Ajeet knew it or not but he was wondering who is guilty... Ajeet, his father or this Society.
I had never imagined even in my wildest dream that one day our two years old-matured-committed relationship would get an end. And it was not a terrible dream. It was a dreadful reality. We had fought many times over trivial issues...and fight was not new...but our break-up was shockingly new. In a moment the castle of love, built in two years was collapsed down and was washed out by the tears of our eyes...
This was no way less than a nuclear explosion. My soul was being constantly stressed out of the body. A fire in the whole body was igniting which was reflecting by my faded-desiccated-wrenched face...
My friend suggested me to have a tour as it would make me feel better. So finally, I decided to go Goa, where I first met her. Might be I could end her memories from where it started. So I took the flight to Goa and next day I was at the calangut beach. It was first time I was alone physically but I knew how hard it was to be alone mentally...Mentally, I was still cursing my fate to fall in love with her...If memories of past could be wiped out...I surely would have done...
I was walking along the beach. The wave, going up and down, on the beach somewhere reflecting our relationship...Happy moments and then unhappy moments...but every-time this was giving a new strength to our relationship...But this emotional exodus had drowned everything; our faith, our trust, our love...
I was watching every imprint; my feet were stamping on the brownish-wet sand. But there was something absent today...I felt my imprint incomplete, ugly, dreadful and feeble...A symmetry was missing and perhaps I felt absence of her feet which were first time imprinted into my heart at the same beach two years ago...
I felt miserable. As miserable as I have never felt before in my entire life...I got shivered with an unknown and alien sensation...And like a Hindi movie...I felt the need of something that could at least make me to forget all this...
I moved to wine shop...I had never had wine before...So I was nervous what would happen...However, the pain I was tolerating was many times bigger than my nervousness...I said the waiter to make a pack...He asked, “Which one, Sir”
“Anyone...”
For a moment he was puzzled to hear my answer...But soon he said, “Fenny, it would be better for you, sir”
Perhaps he had known that It was my debuted drink...
I drank one pack after mixing it to Limca...I felt weightlessness but still I was conscious...
Again I was at the beach...
I murmured as I was reading a poem,” See the waves near the beach, so amazingly inviting to go and take a jump in the enthralling beauty of existence and satiate the ignited fire in the mixture of the divinity of sun-light and playful bluish water.”
My words were so feeble against the strong yet soothing winds that only I could hear what I said... It was my senses that were being translated into words...abstract for others...but complete for me...
My mind was tempting so vigorously that I could not wait to put my clothes off. I ran against the wind; kissing the wind; embracing and feeling the sweetness and in few moments I was in the sea, caressing gently the water; trying to mingle myself completely; yes, completely...like a drop in the ocean...
It was my best bath I have ever had...It did not only clean my body; my whole conscience was feeling fresh and rejuvenated.
I moved towards my hotel...I saw couple walking on the wet sand grabbing each other’s hand, it reminded me the day when I proposed her and promised her to be with her in every circumstances...I felt a guilt...A guilt that a fresh and rejuvenated soul could not bear...I did not know who was right and who was wrong...I felt a sudden urge to talk her...But I did not know she would talk me or not...I knew I had broken my promise and I needed to apology...I dialled her number on my mobile...Mobile rang and with each ring my heart was pounding like ebb and tide...And suddenly she picked up the phone...My heart was stopped...I could not speak for a moment... But I had to...With a whispering sound I said, “I am Sorry.” And these three words were many times difficult to speak than those three words I had spoken two years ago on the same beach...But the feeling after this was same...A heavy weight of guilt on my heart was thrown out... As I disconnected my phone, I saw an unchecked message saying “I am Sorry” that had been sent 15 minutes before I called her...
Doctor says that when a broken hand heals...it gets more strength...And fortunately our momentary break-up and make-up made our bond stronger; more resistant...
And one day when I told her about this story...She giggled, “Had you really drunk wine? I cannot believe...looks so bollywoodish...doesn’t it?”
“Yes! I had...but please don’t remind me...I am feeling embarrassed... “
“Really, so do you need another pack?” with saying this...she burst into laughter...
I pretended to have a cold gesture but inside I knew that I was wishing to hear her laughter forever....
Love stories have not always tragic ends...they have happy endings too... :)
Heaviness of clouds, stillness of air and frequent roaring of clouds were assuring a heavy rain. On the muddy slippery greenish road, they were running with a fishing rod in their hands. Soon, they were on the bank of river. After searching a perfect place, they put their fishing rods in between the elegies and JalKumbhi, they were incessantly watching the small wooden stick above the water that was sporadically vibrating in the presence of their hunt (fish).
Whole day passed. The two, Prakash and Gita, had caught enough fishes and now they were about to depart. Prakash was Sixteen years old and Gita was two years younger to him. They studied in same school, and despite having difference in their age, they were in same school which was often a subject of pride for Gita that irritated Prakash too much. But, No doubt, they were close friends. Their friendship was as old as they were. At one moment they fought and the next moment they were friends. “Sorry” and “Thank you” were not in the dictionary of their friendship. There was spontaneity, an innocence that brought them always together.
They were in the age in which people begin to see such relationships with their constricted-crassness spectacles in the shadow of pseudo morality. As Prakash and Gita were not of same caste, it was also a grave concern for so called moralist. Soon, their parents were familiarized with this issue which was a hidden threat to both families.
They did not realize when their closeness was dragged apart. Soon they were in different school. Often Prakash saw Gita with her sad eyes in midst to his cousins and siblings in her way to school that made him restless but as he was aware to the consequences he never dared. They did not talk yet both were missing each other. They were missing their togetherness. They were missing the thrill, the joy they used to felt while hunting the fish with their fishing rods. They were apart but their memories were instilled in a way that they could never forget each other.
Time passed. Now Prakash had done Diploma in Electrical, and was now working in private company in Delhi. He was now 22 years old. But still his memories were as fresh as he was just 14 years old, wandering with Gita in rainy days on muddy pavements. Praksah had left the village since he was eighteen and today after getting his job, he was going to his village. His eyes were impatient to see the glimpse of his childhood in the greenery of fields, in the fragrance of its air, in the touch of his 18 years old life. The three years of distance had washed up all the old attitudes of people towards Prakash. Now, he was no longer “Prakash” of the past who was once summoned and challenged for his immoral behaviour.
Soon, the village, the river, the air, the rainy season caught Prakash in his old memories that brought a storm. A storm that could even shook 22 years old man. Whole night, he was not able to sleep. And in the early morning, he decided to meet Gita, disregarding all the consequences.
With the help of his old friends Prakash arranged a meeting with Gita in the evening.
For the next five minutes, neither of two spoke. The silence was broken down by Prakash as he said...
“You are getting married, are not you?”
Hiding her dismay she replied averting her eyes...
“Yes! I am....and what about you”
“What about me? Are you asking if I am married or not?”
She whispered,” yes! “
“Ok! I am not...I am not going to be in future too...”
There was a conviction and desperation in the voice of Prakash.
They continued their discussion which often turned to sobbing and crying. Finally, they moved to their respective home with unknown feelings and hidden motives.
After 10 Years
It is a sunny morning. A middle age man and woman are enjoying the morning tea in the peaceful ambiance, glistened by red sunlight and scented by the fragrance of refreshing –cool-cozy morning air. T.V. is broadcasting news which is saying about the news of a boy and girl who have ran away from their home despite of different religion and have got married. A riot has broken off. Some people are saying it unfortunate; some are saying Immoral; some are saying it is a religious conspiracy... But soon it takes the two ten years before when he had hold his hand and still she is feeling its warmth in her life. This was the warmth of their love which made them to face insurmountable difficulties after they ran away from their home. Pearly drops trickles through their eyes. The man puts her hand on her, presses her hand slightly. She feels sweetness, a comfort, an overwhelming shivering in her body. Let people say it good or bad but they know it was the best decision of their life. “Love conquers all”.
This is a story of a woman who had lost everything in his life. She had no purpose to live. But one day her life again filled with love, laughter and poetry.
*It is a purely fictitious story.Any resemblance to it is purely coincidental.
“You never realize death until you realise love“
I could not understand this quote until I met her. Yes! There is death because love gives you a new life. I too got a new life, a life full of love and full of wish to live till eternity. I remember when she first entered in class and I, sitting with my back bencher friends was looking so vigorously. I would not say that it was love in first sight but still it was something I never felt in my whole life.
Time passed. My heart got strong to convince me that I was in love with her. My eyes, who were so obsessed with her image were witness. My mind which always remained occupied with her thoughts was another witness. Realizing the sensitivity of my being and strong convincing facts provided by witnesses, I got the final verdict from my heart that I was in love.
“I am in love… But does she like me? Would she love me?”
These were questions that were pinching and trying to bleed my heart. More often, to cover our weaknesses we turn into philosophy. I became a philosopher. I was happy realizing that love is a state; it need not be mutual; at least nature has given us freedom to love anyone and this is the best gift to mankind.
I saw her when she looked away. I still don’t know why I was not able to see directly in her dark expressive eyes. May be , I was afraid of me; I was afraid of the word ‘love’; I was afraid of rejection.
Finally the day came, we were in farewell party. She looked stunning. But a subtle layer of melancholy was in her face. My heart was beating fast; I could not imagine how I would live without seeing her. I thought that I should express my love to her. But fate had some other things to do; I heard that one of my friends had already proposed her. I was dumbstruck I did not ask what she did. I left the college and tried everything to blot her out from my mind.
Five years passed. I got selected in IIT-JEE and got a good job. I had to visit my native place. I got in the train. I was reading the news-paper. Suddenly, I got shocked on my fate to see her, sitting in front of me. I wiped my eyes many times as I was not sure it was mere my imagination or a reality.She was looking more beautiful in her red Sari. I was very familiar with her dark expressive eyes and it was reality. How could I forget those eyes which were once mirror of my love?
Oh, what was that…She had a mangalsutra around her neck…I was shocked…
“How longer have you been married?”
This was the first question, I ever asked to her in my whole life.
“Oh, you remember me. I thought you would have forgotten me. “
“Two years! You know, Rahul, he is my husband.”
“Oh, it’s great. You had better invite me. I would not have missed it. “
“Really, I never knew you would have so much time to come to my wedding. You were so busy in school days that you got no time to talk to us. But anyways, I would like to invite on my son’s birthday, would you like to come? “
“It’s my pleasure. I would love it. Oh, I really did not expect that you would have son too.”
“Tell me what are you doing? When is your training going to start? “
I was dumb struck how did she know about my training. I even did not tell her about my education or job.
“Training..? It would start from December in Pune. By the way how do you know about this?”
“Everyone is not like you. We have some time for friends too. “
“Friend”… I was like in heaven when she called me friend.
“Friend…? “
“Oh, I am not in a level to be your friend.”
“Please…don’t say this…really! You see me as a friend.”
Silence…there was a pin drop silence…
…This was silence before the storm…
Storm came. It rained. Salty water trickled through the corner of her eyes… moistened her rosy face…she did not speak a word…but her eyes spoke a lot… I could see what I had lost in the tears of her eyes… we got off the train but I am still in the train of her thoughts…
Dear Friends!This is my first attempt at this genre to which I am quite unfamiliar. So thanks for bearing it. :)
Mr X is lying on the expensive cushioned mattress. His eyes are half-closed; his breaths are slow and heavy. His forehead is shining with the oil. He is in white Kurta-payjama. The fragrance of artificial scent of Ferrari brand has superseded the scent of medicine. He is as restive as a dead body. Sometimes his lip is quivering as he is praying or saying something. His son Y and Z are standing both sides, besides his legs. Some of his relatives have also entered into the room. Seeing his condition, their eyes are moistening. They are not able to stop crying and praising...” what a noble man he is! He is the man of determination. Just See his achievements, where he was and where he is now, a poor farmer boy to billionaire.”
Mr X is half dead for his family. But Mr X is still as awakened from inside as he used to be at any business deal. All the events like images with sounds are rounding in his head. He is seeing the desperation for being rich, being successful in his college days. He is reminding how he was feeling jealous of the students from prosperous family; how tensed he was when for the first time he was called for interview; how his goal of doing social service lost its identity in the zigzag path of corporate world; how he has chased the source of fruits and never has tasted them; how an emotional gap is created between him and his wife, between him and his children due to his workaholic nature; how he used to fear from death and now when death is near he is feeling more peace and calmness as he has never experienced in his whole life. For the first time, he has time to think of something beyond his desire of success, beyond his business. He is realising how ridiculous and unimportant his stresses and tensions were, who used to present at every time before any deal and after any deal who finally led him to death-bed, merely in his fifties . He is not repenting but thanking and praying to god, if it is possible to give him some more days to relish this beautiful world with the open eyes, with open heart. He is reminding the lines which he had once read,” When death touches you, it gives a new life.”
It is sunny morning of spring. In the garden, the trees that were bare few days ago are now covered with new enchanting green leaves. Wind is flowing from the east with a fragrance of wetted soil. Some children are running against the wind. Some are playing marbles on the smooth yellowish ground surrounded by shrubs and bushes. Some are making Charakhi by cutting the mango leaves, and linking it to the cot, in a hope to make the cot fly like an aeroplane. Their warbling is mingling in the wind and making it alive, an animate being. Some are staring at the earthy waterway flowing beside the tree from the tube-well to the dry fields and are putting the boats, made of leaves. Some are running, massaging and wrestling into the waterlogged fields.
“What are you doing here? Go and read! These things will not make you rich.” (An earnest middle aged voice swells in the ambiance.)
“What is to be rich, father!” (An innocent voice inquires).
“After becoming rich, you will be happy, my boy!”
“That means I will not have to read, once I become rich.”
It was a sunny morning. The fresh zephyr of coziness was embroidering my whole body with a mystical feeling. I walked along the river-side, surrounded by lush green trees, reflecting its greenery into the calm, cool and bluish water and booming its beauty to divinity. Birds were out of the next and were clamoring as they were doing their morning prayer, feeling their gratitude for a new day to live; a new day to relish; a new day to explore. I was feeing the silence inside, going deeper and deeper as I was witnessing everything happening around me. The semi-circled Sun, in the red crust was rising in the far horizon, embellishing the sky with a blooming redness, and layering the blue sky with an exquisite creativity. I was walking with a full awareness of every movement of my body parts and appreciating existence as an overwhelming gift.
Suddenly as I approached to the temple, the scenery took me to the reminiscence of my past, an unforgettable wound that pinches my heart, trembles my existences and obstructs the seed to plant, to flourish which was sowed in my childhood with pure, delicate, and unaltered hands of me and her. I remember her inviolable hands in my hand, swinging simultaneously up and down, harmonizing the inner-gaiety and levity in a rhythmic fashion. A mystical feeling and unison of senses, running through my body to her, was centering the turbulence of feeling in the heart. My eyes were witnessing her pretty face, dazzling black eyes, her half-closed black hair in the layout of blue sky, spectacular green trees, and breezy chilled air, in the morning shadow of temple. When I looked into her eyes, the veils of intellect, shame and modesty mingled into an ocean of an unknown, which my heart deciphers today as ‘Love’, a feeling of laying out for no reason, for no gain and still gearing up for any pain. The day was the last day of my heavenly life when I heard that she was no more. I know her loss was heaven’s gain and still today, in the rain of his remembrance, the petals of flower boom, spreading the aroma of love, happiness and livingness in my barren life.
