Silence Over Disagreement !!!

Expect The Unexpected !!!

 –  Dummies Guide To Travelling At Nights …… Alone     

The clock on the tower at the middle of junction ticked 1 in the morning. On deserted road, walking alone at that hour of the day, my thoughts flew back to the comforts of the distant ride in the car half an hour back. It was evident that the time was running against me. Not a single vehicle passed by in the past 30 minutes.  Another 15 miles of journey awaited me, and I walked looking back intermittently to see if any vehicle would appear.

And I walked…..

………………………

“Oh come on dude. A hundred cab’s pass that way even in the middle of night” , I claimed.

“I have travelled that way even at 2 in the morning at times”, I continued as two of the curious one’s listened.

“So, Lets do it then”, one of them affirmed.

And we proceeded to book the tickets for the 10.30 show in a theater in the middle of the town.

……………………….

The horn from a approaching vehicle brought me back to reality.

I made my move, turned back, pointed my thumb in the direction I intended to travel and I waved. I tried putting up a face of a school kid trying to get that couple of extra marks which he requires to pass the examination.

And the fellow zoomed past me. I was not sure if he paid no attention, or if I was even visible to him.

“F*r ,” my impatience grew and few words of praise escaped. Infact I shouted I realized. The echo from the flyover wall was loud enough.

You never know who that Good Samaritan who would dare pick you at the middle of night be.

You never know.

As my brain tried searching the broken link of the thoughts that it was occupied with, the ear’s heard the rattling of another approaching vehicle.

The action of the hand seemed involuntary as it took positing of waving for a lift in the direction of my travel. And I stood watching patiently as the vehicle neared.

The wind blew in a rhythm like the waves of the sea on a full moon, strong and high, yet steady.

And I watched the vehicle move past me in equal speed with which it neared. I hung my head facing down and uttered those words that escape the mouth when in frustration, intentionally this time.

I heard the vehicle halt couple of blocks away.

 “he is the man !!!” , I turned back and ran towards the vehicle, wondering if he would give me the lift.

………….

“Dude, its already 12.30. I seriously doubt if you will have any mode of transport at this hour”, he exclaimed. “Lets go to my place”

“buddy, I have been travelling this route for years now, “ I boosted on my experience of travelling at nights. “I will find something or the other & reach I will !”

“Suite yourself “, he bayed a fairy well at the point he dropped me.

Another 15 miles of journey awaited me, and I walked looking back intermittenly to see if any vehclie would appear.

And I walked….

………

“I am going towards X-road, will drop you till the junction”, the man in the car said.

“You will find something or the other from there to your destination “, he advised.

“Anything will do sir”, I said to him in a thanking tone as I seated myself by his side.

“where on earth are you coming from at this hour!”, the man questioned as the vehicle picked up some speed.

“A movie- “, I replied too quickly I realized. The overflowing happiness of finding a lift after 40 minutes of walk on a winter cold night made the response time fast.

“Alone ?”

“Oh ! no no”, I was equally quick.”Alone in this route!”, I replied in a broken tone. The shivering made the tongue flicker sending the words intermittently out of mouth.

“I see”, the man exclaimed as he halted the cart at the junction as promised. “from here you will have no trouble going forward”

I showered couple of words of gratitude.

I was at the comfort zone now. There was movement at that junction and I was to make the choice.

And I choose, to have a cup of tea.

The junction was a busy place at any hour of the day. At night , there would be tea and snacks availbale.

The old lady was kind enough to keep the tea hot with all the utensils she had, and 5 bucks she charged for it was fair enough.

“It’s the British you see”, I heard a man speaking. At once I knew he was speaking to me as there was no other soul but for the old lady who paid least attention to any customer.

“they made us addict to TEA & the Chinese to OPIUM”, It was evident that he was drunk. Even as he sipped his cup of the tea, he spoke.

“I see”, I had no choice but to speak, “I never knew that !”, I was ashamed at my ignorance. What if it’s a drunken man speaking, he had a point.

“you youngsters have no knowledge of our history,” he stated to speak. And I made a narrow escape thanking him for that one point of wisdom he showered on to me.

I could hear him continuing the topic with another of the poor souls that halted for a tea , as I crossed the junction in search of another of those good Samaritans.

Another 5 miles…………..

………………….

“Boss, come on, I am going that way !”,  the Sardarji gestured as he spoke while I crossed the road.

“Oh ! thanks sir”, It was as though fate waited for me on a bike at the junction.”Thanks a lot!”

The first line he spoke as we set off brought my world to halt.

“Am a bit drunk”, he said with a smile I would define – teasing.”Hope you don’t mind !”.

“Dont mind – what the hell you think I am , super man ?, that I will jump to safety if you hit a road divider or worst case a speeding lorry”, I said to myself bewildered at the calmness with which he confessed.

“Stop the Damn bike- “, I wanted to shout but the next line he uttered, silenced me.

“Am a COP !”

……………………….                                                                                               To Be Continued…

The Learnt Discuss !!!

Sane or Insane!

The vehicle was sparsely occupied. An old man found his way past Ajay to the seat right next to the front entry. Another fellow occupied the seat beside the old man, adjusting himself to comfort before the bus set off to accomplish the hour long journey that lay ahead.

Sitting by the window Ajay felt the breeze brush past his earlobes. The cold air found its way into the eardrums sending a chill all over the body. The climate was cool, not intensely though, but sufficient enough to force oneself to cover the ears from the wind that blew.

The next halt of the city bus saw a mother and her child boarding in. The child was no ordinary. It walked in an unnatural manner, lifting each leg with a tremendous effort, as was evident, and placing it forward. Reaching out to the nearest support, the kid would lift the other leg. The mother helped intermittently.

Different, the kid appeared, as most of the eyes, Ajay observed, gazed the creature. Some of which were astounding and some were sympathetic. The kid would pay no attention to any of it though. It went on ascending the steps.

The old man, instantly lifted himself, apparently vacating the place for the kid. The young fellow however paid no attention to the scene.

“Can’t you see, they need a seat? Get up and go back”- an aggressive shout came to the young fellows way. He knew at once, to the intensity of the voice, that it was intended to him, and without a moment’s pause, the fellow made his way backwards. Although the lady searched to find from which of those curios mouths that the voice emerged, probably to shower a line or two of gratitude, but failed to identify which of those few lot made that remark.

And the duo found their way to the seat. The kid gestured his mother, a language only the mother would understand as was apparent. From whatever she understood, she took out the monkey cap and slid it over his head. The kid chuckled, as the mother kept sliding the cap. And everyone watched.

The cold breeze was no more a trouble for him, and he faced window wise and clapped and moved his head in a way only he could do, possible cause of the different ability he had.

Almost everything surprised him. And everyone watched, smiling, at his acts. He giggled whenever there was a little breeze past the window gaps, chuckled when his mother got hold of his hand that he tried waving out of the window. Insisted for tickets. Pulled the change out from his mother’s fist and handed to the conductor. He had a smile to offer and a little wave of the hand to every new passenger that boarded from the front door.

He waved to the bystanders at every stop, saluted the traffic police. As the bus moved past the Temple, he joined his hands in a way to pray and bowed. He clapped at the pigeons that flew over the Lake. Everything amazed him.

And he watched, the frustration people bore on their faces for every little thing that happened, the despair  they showed on every stop that the bus halted. He watched the impatience they experienced when in traffic. He smiled at one of the passengers shouting on the conductor for getting a rupee or two back, at the lady that stated a fight with the one next to her for not giving her enough space to sit. He was surprised as to why the driver shouted at people waving hands in the middle of road (requesting to stop the bus).

Ajay kept thinking who sane was, among the two. Was it the boy that amazed himself at every creation of the God, or the rest of us who were disgusted at everything. Was it him, that kept smiling at everything that came his way, or the so called people with common sense who frown at everything that do not occur the way they expect.

The boy made a move to gesture the driver, to stop. Possibly his mother told him that next stop is where they get down. The driver showed no concern.

“Stop the damn bus!”, Ajay shouted from where he was. “The kid wants to get down don’t you see.”

The bus set off after the kid & his mother got down, and Ajay knew the answer.

"Sanity Has Nothing To Do With Happiness" Ajay Thought. 

I Might Stand High !!!

After 2 Years

A Wise Thought !

A Small Place

Lets Accept It !!!

The Reminder

Friday mornings call should have never come…….

……………………..

“Chindi choor !!!” , that’s how I would start the talk usually.

“Kaminey!!!” And a fickle smile audible enough from the other side.

My turn and “kahan margaya re itne din se ?”

“Tu kahaan hai hateley” he would reply.

The answer would be followed by a lengthy, almost never ending talk with no head and tail.

“Hyderbad main aake bhi peecha nahi chodetere tum logaan, chain se jeene nahi dete ree!” , he would utter with a witty voice after getting vexed up of my nag’s.

“jeena kya beeta , marne ke baad bhi nahi choodenge !!!”, I would answer ,and what I would hear will be the smile turning to a laugh.

Never ever imagined that day would arrive so sooner.

………………………

An alert on the lappy woke me up on the morning of 14th November. It was quite a lazy morning being a MONDAY. But the sleep escaped the eyes at the reminder.

It’s his birthday, unfortunately an unhappy one for everybody acquainted with him. It took a while to get to reality that he was no more.

Memories are what am left with. A vaccumme occupied the thoughts.

I remember now, he never said NO ! Be it for a cup of coffee at 12 O’clock in the night or useless project discussion at 4 in the morning, and nor for the late night chatter in the corridor of the hostel from 12 to 4.

And when I caught him smoking I would shout “jaldi maregaa chindi choor”

“Tu bhi shurukar pina hateley nahi to tu tension se aur bhi jaldi marega”, was his answer with that never fading smile of his.

Identity of his own. A Brand.

A “Take for granted” person he was. Reach out to him, and he is there for you.

Memory takes me back to the time when I was in a critical time of submitting a prototype of my project. I was in a state of absolute frustration as the model was not taking the right shape.

A mechanical design flaw was destroying it. Middle of night I woke him up for help. And at a moment’s glace he was at work with me fixing that thing. We worked almost the whole night I remember and the next day was a relief for me.

“don’t even think of thanking – made me stay awake whole night for a f* small thing –“ he shouted out of the corridor.

“I will repay it dude- some time “- I replied.

“Yeah yeah- get me a cup of coffee for now “ was his answer with a tap on the back.

………………..

Time ticked faster it seems in the past two years. We hardly met a couple of time.

And just a week back I got a call from him asking if we could meet that evening.

It was almost 30km distance which needed to be traversed and he insisted he would come down on his bike.

“By the time you reach here, today will become tomorrow”. I said

“Next week on Saturday- I will come half way and we will meet there –“ I assured and he agreed.

………………….

A call to my mobile woke me up at an odd hour on the morning of THAT Friday. A quick look at the watch and it showed 8.20 A.M.

Unwilling I lifted …

“Bharath met with an accident on his way to office”, the voice on the other side trembled as it spoke.

“What !!!” - I dint believe my ears.

“He died while being moved to hospital!!!”

..............................

That call should have never come, I wished as tears rolled in my eyes.


Regret is what I am left with, for not meeting him on the previous Sunday.

A promise of mine would remain un-kept for life.

He left us in sorrow and despair on 11.11.11.

….. In Loving Memory of Bharath Vasi.

Friend,Guide, An Icon,The Brand Man

Hope -

Hope - Hmmm..
Hope ..........
Hope is what it takes to stick to a fight....
To believe , there will be light.. even after the darkest night....
Hope is what it takes to keep walking the path the instincts suggest
In daring to rise after every downfall , walking again without rest......
Hope is what it takes in going ahead even with the future's uncertain-ness ...
In chasing that dream , the eye conceives & the brain harness......

 Hope.........

Finding Happiness

I was told happiness can be found on the next turn - I travelled & took that TURN - & Alas what I realized that it was way too late......

I neglected the little boxes packed with ouches of time I could have spend with my Maa.......was way too busy trying to un-solve the mystery behind the Pythagoras theorem.....

I overlooked that concern my Papa would show in knowing how my day was...........My homework would buy me couple of laurels.....

My sister insisted on playing game of the caroms which she never won against me - but never gave up the fight,...... I was too tired to talk to her even........

And after a quarter century of life - I stand at that very turn I began......

Searching for Happiness ....

Back then I was told I would find happiness down that road I was instructed to traverse - the beaten track......

And Now - I know not, what the path I would take will lead to ... The uncertain future.......

But - I will not miss all those beautiful moments that I get to be with my family -
the strongest of my strengths ... the luckiest of my luck's..... they remain at my side in what ever I end up in....

Thank I must , to the ONE for such a wonderful gift......................

Indian Formula 1

What more can one ask for. The biggest sporting event  "F1" in India. 

Gazal Lost Its King

       

Jagjit Singh - The Mesmeriser   

      

      Gazal lost its king - One voice that you would not like to forget. One voice that would make its home in your thoughts let your mind be in any state. It would stay there soothing you in the saddest times or showering laurels in the happiest moments.

Hardly a day passes by without humming any of his works.

Hoshwaloon ko Khabar Kya - The ecstasy of love well depicted in this master piece. No other song , I came, across can make you feel the joy of being in love.

Wo kagaz ki kasti wo barish ka paani....... it reminds of the childhood as though we are reliving the whole of the events. 

Syaam Se Aankh main Nami se hai.... the memory of the departed ones or of them that we miss deeply. 

A great loss it is to the Music world which is rapidly changing with exodus  towards fast track music.

A soul touching voice will no more be heard. But it will surely wander the thoughts - 

Meri Awaaz Hi phechaan hai....Gar Yaad Rahe.............

Steve Jobs - Dots Yet To Be Connected

           The change maker is no more - The Dots are yet to be connected. But the trail he left behind will surely be cherished for ages to come. The God of  "I" things I would say - So does the world.

The Sugar Spun !

The cycle bell that Rajesh would ring gathered 20 odd schools kids outside the Primary School.

”Buddi ke baal “, the kids would refer the eatable that Rajesh sold. Primarily cause it appeared to be bunch of old lady’s hair, and secondarily, they did not know if it has any other name as such !

At 5 bucks a packet, Rajesh managed to sell 30 odd in an hour of time. 

His day started on a usual note just the way it does on every other morning. He worked on the machine that made the spun sugar. He then packed a  bunch of spun sugar, usually pink, carefully into polythene. The school was quite near to his home; hence 50 odd samples would suffice for the morning. He can very well 

return after the classes start and prepare another 100 for the lunch break. He would have a 50 of them kept aside.

He however waited for someone anxiously at the gate. A kid it was, that would buy most of them. It was 5 past 10 already and the a view from the gate indicated the classes began , yet there was no sign of this boy. 

“Is he not coming ?, should I wait or go !“ , Rajesh thought as he kept staring at the right turn at the end of road , from where the boy usually came.

It was almost a year ago that they met. That morning Rajesh was at the school gate with his spun packets. He managed to sell very little that morning. it was a cloudy  and it started to rain eventually. 

Rajesh tried moving his bicycle to look for shelter, but the vehicle refused to move cause of the chain that stuck the wheel from moving. By  the time he could free the wheel from the chains grip, the rain had his packets drenched and what was left behind was the sticky liquid dropping out of the packets.

There  were enough packets that would add  up to a KG or Two of sugar. That meant a  huge loss  compared to the little profit he made. A loss implied a night without dinner for his family.

He sat by the footpath. Few tear drops escaped his eyes out of sorrow. A night of suffering is all it counted. 

Moments later, there came and stopped a car, a black one.  It had an amazing glitter all over its body. At  the front was a still circle with a inverted Y, Rajesh observed. He was too depressed to think what on earth it stopped in from of him. 

A boy  of around 12 or 14 years of age  got down out of the vehicle and walked straight to him.

“What makes you cry!”, commanded the boy with a tone of authority  rich men are adorned with. 

Without a word Rajesh showed the packets hanging from the stick, most of which were soaked in water.

“Get me a 50 of these in the afternoon- I will buy them at 6 bucks each….” saying thus the boy turned and walked to the car. The driver of the  vehicle had already opened the door for the boy to get in, however the boy stopped and turned to Rajesh.

“I want every one of them, miss the count and you will miss all the bucks…” and moments later the car zoomed past him into the school. 

Rajesh did not get why the boy wanted to buy so many of them and that too at a price higher that what he usually sold at.He was excited and thought no more, rose to his feet, got hold of the bicycle and stated home. On his way back the same car overtook him with a lightning speed.

Rajesh hurried back from home with the number of packets the boy told him, to be on the safer side he carried some additional numbers....."miss the count and you will miss all the bucks…" he remembered

He was  surprised to find the boy  at the spot they met, minus the car with the inverted Y in the metal circle. 

“You are late. Anyway. Did you get 50 of them? “, the boy questioned with almost a similar tone.

“Yes I did!”

“Count them!”, he ordered,  “fast!”,  not paying much attention to Rajesh’s panting.

Rajesh parked the bicycle and counted the packets.

“Faster!” the boy got impatient at the speed with which Rajesh counted.

“Forty, forty one, …… “, 

“Enough! Take this and give those to Me.”, he handed 300 bucks. Before  Rajesh could react, he grabbed the stick removed the extra packets and hung them to the bicycle and gone he was.

Rajesh, though happy, could not really figure out what one  earth the boy was going to do with them.  “Might be his birthday!” he thought to himself as he started the ride back. 

It was after a long time he was happy. 

The other day, the boy came to where Rajesh parked his bicycle. Paid him 300 and took 50 packets.

“Can I know what the occasion today is?” Rajesh questioned curiously.

“None of your bloody business okhaii!” answered the boy aggressively.

The next day the boy came, he bought the same quantity and left.

And this continued to almost a year, Rajesh never questioned the boy there after.All he would do was to keep 50 packets  and sometimes a  100, aside without selling even if he ran out of general stock. He would wait for the boy and the boy never missed to buy.

One day the boy did not come, nor did he turned up the next day. And the next and the next. Days passed. 

He did not come even today.

Rajesh was anxious why the boy did not turn up. He walked into the school to enquire. It was after long time that he stepped inside that school again. The one which use to be his until that unfortunate event.

He was unsure whom to ask. 

“Rajesh!” he heard someone calling.

“You are looking for Sidharth, if am not wrong?” a lady questioned as he she neared him.

“…I ??”, 

“The boy who bought sugar spun from you!”

“How did you know that?”

“Well, Sidharth told me you will come looking for him when he is gone. So you stated going to school with you savings I learnt?”

“Who told you that now?”

“Why do you think he would buy 100 of them on the month ends?”

“…..”, indeed , Rajesh thought to himself. The boy would buy double the quantity, and that too one or two days prior to the end of month.

“Where is he now?” Rajesh questioned the lady.

What the lady told in return was something unbelievable. With a heavy heart Rajesh walked by the school compound.

“Why should it happen to  him!”, it was  heartbreaking to hear that. “it’s unfair God” he shouted skywards in sorrow.

Rajesh sat on the bridge over the canal on the banks of which the school stood. It was almost a year and a half that his father expired. Unable to pay the fee, he continued his father profession. Little he made to feed himself and his mother. But after he met the boy he made extra bucks. He saved some to go to school. 

Now  the  world  seemed to  at standstill but for the steam of water that was flowing with a rhythmic sound. 

A pile of packets by the wall captured his attention. 

A pile of packets, partially pink in color........

I Exist Damn It! What If My FACEBOOK Page Does Not!!!

“Are you not on FACEBOOK! “

“Hmm! “ , Raj replied with a half a smile to cover up his discomfort.

“Really? “ , came the question his way…..

“Hmm”.. Raj maintained a status quo. Lately he adapted to appear calm, even though the question annoyed him.

“I can’t believe it!“ the fellow exclaimed, as though a punishable offence is committed.

“You have to “, he made the point clear & leaned back to rest and closed his eyes.

“Being so”cialized, these days, implies a FACEBOOK, that’s the bottom line.

       The journey was exhaustive being lengthy. And Raj was happy to find a fellow of his age to chitchat with. But the fellow’s over enthusiasm about knowing stuff Raj did not, kept Raj frustrating as they moved on.

    “Hey... Did you ever see anything like this” he stated after an unconcerned HI, showing yet another of those electronic gadgets from his bag, besides the N* Nokia, A* IPAD, F*T* watch and some more of those cozy thing he was adorned with. He had almost everything a person of his age is expected to have.

“That’s a present from my cousin: cool huuunhh!!” … “Ofcoures from US “he informed, as if he expected the question.

“But I can’t believe you are not of FB. Come-on half of the world is!”…and he continued

    FACEBOOK has this, FACEBOOK has that… it has what ORKUT or TAGGED do not have and what it has not, that ORKUT and TAGGED have….

And he made an attempt to invent putting his brain at work … once at least …

“You know what… There should be forum in FACEBOOK for people who are not on FACEBOOK… “

“In there people who are not on FACEBOOK can explain why they are not on FACEBOOK…. There must be reason rii’ght. …. Trust me half of the world is on FACEBOOK. There must be sooo”lid reason to be not on FACEBOOK..”

“if they were on FACEBOOK and they no longer are … then what made them to move out of FACEBOOK…… who the hell would want to move out of …. FACEBOOOK : the most happening thing around…….“ he continued not being bothered if he was listened to.

“You must talk to Mark Zuckerberg about this……!” Raj interrupted, rather aggressively after his tolerance reached to verge of breaking. After all he heard the name a 100 odd times…..

“I was saying who would want to move out of “FACEBOOK””, it was evident he was trying to prove there was no world if no FACEBOOK. What Raj wondered was if he paid attention to the his statement….

“By the way… who the hell is MARK Z… Zuc.. What’s that …. Dint catch you….” ….

“ it’s ZU’ KAR’ BERG” Raj replied with a notion of pride.” He is the one who created the FACEBOOK“he concluded.

“Ohh……! “He exclaimed and he turned to face the window. One could see a certain inconvenience in his attitude. Raj assumed he felt sorry for not being abreast of the man who made half the world stick to his invention……

“Who cares anyway….”, he broke the silence with the same enthu as before, ”So I was taking of a forum in FB…” he continued being least worried of the information that was provided.

Raj paid no attention to what was being said…. wondered how the meaning of acquaintance is being changed
from being physically aware of a person to virtual sense, in the e-world, where one is least certain of the identity people provide.

“Guess what I have 1400 friends out there in the FACEBOOK ! “.. he declared after a momentary silence ….”Four”teeeen hundred odd you see….” He concluded expecting Raj to be bewildered at his achievement.

“ohk”, Raj subdued his anguish. Replied merely to respect the protocol of conversation.

“and they span, all around the world… “ he continued, unconcerned, “500 from the US, can you believe it. ?” …..
“do have a bloody choice!”. Raj ruled out sarcastically.

“u don’t believe it right !!!”, he took the sarcasm to disbelief..

“God save him from my wrath, I am about to burst.” Raj told to himself. “I believe you my friend…..!”, he replied trying to sound normal all along.

He never cared to listen to the conformation and he continued,” how can you even think of believing, you never even sa”w the FACEBOOK! “

He struck the wrong note. Raj was out of mind at his last words.

“How many friends you said you have?”, Raj was angry, but tried sounding tranquil.

“What? .. “ he was surprised at the question .

“Friends! How many of them you have? “
“1400 plus “

“Give a count including your real life friends”

“Another 20 odd! “. He replied after a moment of thought.

“Good.. When did you last talk to any of you real life friends?”

“3 days ……. 4 .. a week back I guess “

“Now think well before you answer the next question …. Say you are in deep trouble, god forbid, and it’s a matter of life and death; give a count of people who will come to your rescue- !”
……………….
“Three or four may be! “, he was alarmed no doubt.

“Where are they from? The FACEBOOOOK ? “

“No, they are my school mates and a couple of them my neighbors.”

“When is the last time you had a talk with any of these people whom you can count your life on?”

He was silent. It has been ages one can sense.

“And you claim to have 1400 odd friends. I don’t say it’s not a worth to have a chain of contacts. Or a page in the social network. But that’s not life. FACEBOOK cannot be life. “

He turned pale; Raj knew he would dislike the whole conversation. But he pulled the string harder, and pay the price he must.

“Its people around us who count. They are the real ones. They deserve our time. That is what I feel” ……

“ I have 20 odd friends, I meet every one once in 2 days, I talk to them , their families, we party we share …. We live… We exist! “

“My FACEBOOK page doesn’t exist, but I do……..!

Now…………Ask yourself! “
…
…
…
“Dude, What you do?”, Raj broke the silence, which lasted for a while now.

“Sorry sir “”,

“I said what you do for a living? “.

“I work at the reception, for a continental hotel! And what about you sir? “

Raj smiled and said,
“Well…….
…………. ……I program…………..
……………………….for the FACEBOOK”……………………………………………….”

               And silence is what followed as the plane soared, piercing its way past the ambush of clouds and the sun, after traversing half the world, continued its journey down the western horizon……

The Bicycle

         The T-Wave that struck the city recently left no part of the social life untouched. Auto’s, the only mode of transport back and forth to office, went on strike, the other day. Some way I managed to reach office. Going back was now the challenge I had to face.

            I set out. Walked past the main gate, and was aghast to see not a single vehicle to take a ride on. Couple of calls I made to enquire the cause for the horrific state. Waited for a while and seeing no light of hope, I let me legs do the job.

            People of the same profession are sympathetic to their fellow mates, and to exploit a lift under such circumstances is easy. But that hour in the day saw not many coming off their duties and there was not much movement on the road. The few, who came, were already booked with fellow riders and I was left with no option but to walk my way back to the junction from where I could manage to get a city bus.

            I walked… though the junction looked to be at farther end of the world cause of the tiredness clouding the body and soul, I walked. And after a few steps I heard a bell ring of a bicycle. Surprised I was, for, on this path I walked, a bicycle was least expected.

            I turned to see who that gentle man was, that dared move around on a bicycle. The surprised was levitated as I found that the rider was a little boy, of 10 or 12. He could barely touch both the pedals at a time. And he made a herculean effort to ride the bicycle over the elevated road.

            A boy, of 10 or 12. With curly untidy hair. The dress he wore was on the verge of being torn. Most part of it was dirty, little that was neat, had cloth patches used to cover up the torn part .the feet had cracks, evidently because of the chemicals the cement has. Paint like white shade covered all of the visible skin and most part of his dress. A boy of 10 or 12.

            A ray of hope, I realized, on a path which saw no vehicle for 15 minutes. But with the attire I possessed, would I take a ride? , pondering thus,

“Could you give a ride?” I requested the boy who kept pedaling as he moved past me. He stared at me as though I made an unpardonable crime by intervening into his world of joyousness he made out of the bicycling.

He stopped after couple of steps. Possibly for the innocent face I put up, or at the attire I wore.

“Sit”, the boy commanded.

“You sit, I’ll ride”, I insisted as I caught hold of the handle.

“Nop, I will ride!” the boy never left the handle go out of his grip.

“No, you will not be able to! let me ride”, I replied at the innocence of the boy. ”you are just a little kid”, I tried bullying.

And he handed his vehicle to me. We set off, once I made him sit on cross bar…..

“Where do you work?” I questioned out of curiosity.

“Back at the construction “, he replied, “my mother, father, and uncle work “, he continued, mostly, enthusiastically.

“No school?” I asked. I could see his face turn to an expression we call frown.

“T-Band – !”, he said.

“Hmm…. Where are you going then? “,

“To get a cigarette packet!” the boy replied, “to the junction!”

“You smoke? “, I teased.

“Noooooooo… for my father, mother. Uncle and their friend!” he smiled as he replied.

“Don’t they know it’s harmful” I questioned to see what he would say. He nodded as an answer and smiled.

            My muscles were stressed at the effort I put up. It was ages that I rode a cycle. Ages it has been that I even touched one. Or well... the truth is that the body has accustomed itself for a stress free life. It’s the mind that is stressed out in the kind of work I do. The body, it’s at resting state most of the times. And for a sudden motion from stand still, after effects are deemed to follow.

“What work u do..?” I asked him breaking the silence which lasted for a while.

“I carry brinks to the top and empty cement trays to bottom”, he replied. “And I water the walls when all bricks are over!”

“And what are you paid.”

“My father knows it!” he said. ”he buys me a rubber ball and couple of chocolates now and then.”

“He promised that he will buy a dress this Sunday. But there was no work for two days. So he doesn’t have money now.”

            There was no work for two days. I remembered the T-Band and yet another national band called by the opposition condemning the price hike.

“We dint even had breakfast today”, the boy interrupted my flow of thoughts.

“Mother said, we have to save some grains for couple of days, there could be more bands soon.” the boy concluded.

            Save the daily wages the family gets, they seem not to have any regular source of income. And the price hike and agitations add to their misery.

We neared the junction and my thoughts were filled with vacuum as I peddled.

There was misery, suffering all around.  Question was “who is responsible?”

“wanna eat something ?” , I asked the boy out of concern. Long days work it must have been.

“May be a cup of tea? “, I re-questioned after he nodded.

            He took the control of the cycle back as soon as I got down. And before I could even make an attempt to offer him something, gone he was………. 

The Seat By The Window!

“ is someone sitti……..” I felt I heard someone saying ……
    The voice damped out…….deep sleep gulped me…… why would I love to break such a heavenly Trans to answer a stupid question…….“is the seat occupied ! “……….. generally
& if it’s a man who is asking ……..particularly !!!
    I dint move a bit. The hand ki that I used to cover my eyes provided a blurred visual of people searching for places to seat themselves.
    I boarded the bus to the city at the start point and there were hardly 3 to 4 passengers. Although I sat by the window initially, but altered my place to the one next as the cold breeze of 6 in the morning, that was finding its way from the miniature gaps the windows left, was piercing the body like the sharp knives cutting through the soft skin, once the bus setoff.
    And eventually, I was carried to the heavenly worlds of dreamland where I wandered the beautiful landmasses the waterfalls, deserts and past the oceans and …… .
“ is that seat occupied ! “ the voice commanded , I could sense.
Crap!!!
    Such was the nap that an hour passed in a blink of an eye. I wondered when we traveled that 30km and reached the next major stop, which at other times is a hell lot to cover particularly on the dusty roads partially under repair most of the times.
“The seat…….” The man became restless. I could not gather why he insisted on enquiring me until I saw the baggage on the seat by the window.
    The Bag ……….. My Bag , I remember placing it there.
“I guess so…….!” I finally replied.
    That was the punishment I could give for disturbing ….. thrice…….
    The man moved onto the next vacant seat behind me…..
“ keep walking ……….!” I felt the joy restore, which I lost when he woke me out of the nap of utmost ecstasy.
    And I slid back the Handki over my eyes to prevent the ascending brightness, as the sun started to appear, from stealing off, that little drowsiness that was left behind.
And
“Is the seat occupied !!! “ …………. I heard someone utter…………..
“ Nop ………….. not at all “, I said as I moved the baggage to my lap and gave way to the person to the seat by the window, smiling all along !!!
    Of course it was a lady……… fairy?......... can say so………….. fair enough though ! if not fairy!
“Not every day one happens to acquire such a lively (lovely) co- traveler”
    Someone truly said………… “Every dog………….!” Ahh…..not an apt comparison I suppose.. yet
    Well…… she settled and no sooner she did, I observed that little of the drowsiness escaped off the eyes.
    The brain became alert. Chemical imbalance, I read it sometime back, out of extreme excitement possibly cause of high sensory activity which might involve vision as well, triggered by the proximity effects …… that’s a bit of information I suppose.
    And the handki moved to my pocket,…………….voluntarily
    And we set off again to cover rest of the 4 hours of journey.
………………………….
    The ring tone of a mobile woke me up……
    Not sure when I slipped to sleep.
“What the H….” , I held my words. After all it was her mobile.
    Never mind ….. I thought.
“….office ! …. No … won’t be going today! ,” I (over)heard followed by a chuckle…..
    The sweet voice sounded like a hundred violin’s playing “Come Josephine in My Flying Machine!” at the background.
    God has a way with the design of the female species, I thought.
    If the girl is cute, Then let the voice be sweet. – I smiled to myself at the thought, and felt proud of the discovery. Unfortunately I had no one to share it with.
    There is another side of it I realized. If the girl is cute, then let the boy hear her voice as sweet, irrespective of the modulation her throat brings about – and the smile faded…..
     Gaad izz great !
    And I decided to start a conversation. After all, not every day you get to make a friend.. girl to be specific.
    The call ended…. I made up a question in my mind “ which company you work for…. “ that sounded apt for the situation. Safe and diplomatic. All is well… I told my conscience. My heart raced. All of a sudden I could hear nothing but my heartbeat. It’s a stranger that I must start to talk. The words passed off the throat.  Reached the mouth I could feel…. And
“…….. “ , I felt I spoke, but the voice never came out ,I released. And she put the mobile back to her handbag, closed her eyes to rest.
“shit ! dumba** “ , my brain prompted the heart ! or the other way round as I leaned back out to mourn on my failure.
    Trust me; the words never came out of the mouth.
    Half the journey was already covered I realized.
    The time showed 8.30.
    Another call to her mobile and my fortune favored to listen to that sweet voice.
“ will reach by 11. Not sure if I will go to the office. ..” she replied…
    Fate, I assumed, gave a second change.
    The call ended….. I had the question at my disposal… “ which company you work for…. “
Ya .. that’s the question … apt one…. I practiced to myself a couple of time…. So as not to sound stupid…. My heart raced as I rehearsed…. I could hear nothing but the question and the heart beat intermittently.
“ which ………. !” ,
    Ah… ! she turned to face me…… for a moments glace and back she leaned and closed her eyes.
I clearly saw her this time, I was left dumbfound.
     She turned out to be prettier than I assumed she was, at the first time I saw her . Drowsy I was. And the proximity of a female species does make the mind go crazy. I had little more that a glance to decide on her features then.
    Little more than a glace I had, even now. But her face glowed cause of the sun rays that escaped the window on the other side, that hit her.
    Did she hear me? ..
    Did she not? . I pondered scolding myself all the way for being an introvert.
“nine onza nine…. nine twoza eighteen…. Nine threezaa twentyseven….”, a girl on the front seat was uttering.
    And we smiled. She smiled.
“so you work for a software firm….!”
    Bravo …. I asked just to find the glace to extend to a stare in amazement.
“Of course yes! “She replied. “About you?’
“hmm ... unfortunately!” I took my turn to reply and she burst into a laugh.
    God indeed has a way with pretty girls.
“which company? “, I questioned.
“Wipro …… And you! … Don’t tell me you are from Wipro As well!” she said in a teasing tone.
God ……… indeed.
“ha ... no no… it’s CG!” I replied with a smile following her.
and we kept talking……bout work…..bout qualification….. bout recession….. bout nativity and nothing at times.
     She amazed me in every possible way a girl is expected to. And she smiled at my silly answers. Exclaimed at the little truthful information I conveyed just to see her wondering.
    Time flew with Josephine in Flying Machine….. faster the clock changed.
   Why does happy time end so fast, god has a way with that too….. I had no choice.
And we neared….
    She explained a route to the office, which I pretended not to be aware of …. Just to hear her speak of course.
    And she did it in quite a detail that I felt like telling the truth that I knew the route….
    But ….. I never said so.
    Fortunately her residence was on the same route and we decided to board a city bus once we reached the city.
    We found couple of seats similar to the one we traveled to the city in.
    One by the window and the next one to it.
    I offered her the seat by the window…… the bus was completely occupied with that last two vacant seats being captured by us. Couple of people boarding behind us and were forced to stand.
“should I ask for her number? mail id? … “was the next question that constantly hit my thoughts after every pause we took of the conversation?
    And before I could push myself beyond that threshold to dare ask a contact, her destination was reached.
We shared a fairy well….
    And she got off the bus leaving a vacuum in my thoughts.
    The world suddenly went numb... Nothing really seemed real.
    I was doubtful if I was even travelling in a city …….. or was wandering in a desert of loneliness…
“Do you believe in destiny” my conscience questioned.
    If I do, then we would cross ways some time ……
“can you give way please!” …….
    I was dragged to reality before I finished my conversation with my conscience.
“Sure …..!”, I lifted my face just to find ………….
    And the pleasure restored, heartbeat raised, and unexplainable joyful inconvenience surrounded me as the bus took pace ………….
GAAD IZZZ GREAT !