Best Friend's Wedding Gift

Today was Geet’s wedding day.Geet had turned 25 last year and that was the time when her parents started looking for a groom. Geet, a jubilant young girl with lot of eccentricities, also was happy about it. She never thought that she could also fall in love. Although her wedding was kind of arranged, but still, now that Somesh was going to be a part of her life, she loved him.
It was a busy day. Muhurat was at 11 O clock at night. Geet was so tensed, excited. After the wedding very shortly they were to shift to US. So more than anything else Geet had to think of all her possessions that she would have liked to take with her. Her childhood memories, those big eyed pics of hers where she used to have a strange fear of the camera!! She also remembered that fluorescent blue dress of hers which she so fondly bought but wore so few times. Her friends used to poke her because of that dress...how can it be so BLUE! And then her numerous collection of Ganesha Idols...small, big, crystal, golden, silver, all kinds. How can she not take her “Ganu Darlings” with her? But yes, there were so many things to take and so much less time left out. As she was ruminating, her mother entered the room.” Geetu dear, we are going to open the old wooden chest kept in the corner of the terrace. Would you like to come along to see if that contains anything you need?”
Suddenly something flashed in Geet’s mind. Yes that was it. She said “Maa, do you remember that old chain you gifted me once? That chain with a smiley as locket? It used to be my favourite…oh...I wanted it so badly”
Her mother remembered. It was a neck chain with a small yellow locket. Was not so costly but then it bore memories of Geet’s childhood. Since Geet was getting married and going to be settled miles away, her mother was a bit sad, she could not have thought of parting from her only daughter.
Everywhere there was a chaos in the house. Decorators, event management group, caterers and then a whole lot of relatives arriving. Now in all these chaos what’s the use of searching for a trivial chain .But Geet’s mother found it really very important. It was something which Geet wanted on her wedding day. Meanwhile one lanky guy came up to her saying “Kakima, the flowers have arrived, where do I keep them?”...”O! Wait I shall help you with that, they need to be properly kept”. Geet was still pondering, what to take and what not, perhaps she was thinking of all the memories she would like to take with her and leave beside others. Memories, they say, you can never wipe them off, but with time, they move backward and forward, they blur and brighten. Geet had worked in various companies in her career of last three years. She was a classic case where HR department should have concentrated so as to reduce attrition. But yes, now, when she was finally well settled in her job, she was getting married and leaving her job. Meanwhile, Geet was looking at her red coloured banarasi; her wedding saree wrought with golden zari work .It was something about which every girl would have thought of. At one point of time when Geet used to be very tomboyish her friends said that she would finally wed wearing a “banarasi jeans” because wearing and managing a saree was not perhaps her cup of tea! But now she looked into all those girly things, those jhumkas, bangles, necklace, payal, sparkling, and tingling. And she could not believe that she was actually going be dressed in all those just few hours later. Just few hours later Somesh would be arriving and she would be his, forever. Earlier whenever the topic of marriage was broached, Geet used to be totally clueless. As she herself used to say that she had very less understanding of all things which can be called “romantic” and “futuristic”. But now she felt complete satisfaction that she too understands the depth of certain relationships! Suddenly her mother was calling her aloud “Geetu, Geetu, come beta...see what’s there in this chest, shall I throw all these or you need these? “
Geet readily rushed towards the terrace. They had a big house with a shaded terrace at one part of the third floor. It was her favourite place. Whenever she had nothing to think , and she felt blank, she would come and stand in her favourite corner of the terrace. It made her rich and free from all kinds of paraphernalia. As she stepped into the terrace she felt an overwhelming sadness that in no way she could have taken the terrace with her. Will she get such a place in US? Will she be able to see the sky so clearly amongst the concrete jungle of Chicago? Somesh had given her a fair idea about how life in US would be and how she would not need to cook anything because everything can be obtained tinned and canned there. Although it relieved her a bit from her phobia of cooking but it did remind her whether “Pani puris” that she used to get at the end of the street can also be tinned? She asked Somesh about Durga Puja at Chicago and he said yes, there were few of them more being in NewYork, but does that really matter? When the people with whom she used to enjoy the celebrations would be miles away from her, how could she be more sensitive to Durga Puja at Chicago? So before marriage she made it very clear that they would “try “to come home at Puja times.
Her mother was still calling her...”Geetu, decide beta, tell me...I need this chest empty to store the flowers, there’s no place”
As Geet was drawing close to the chest she could feel a very familiar fragrance. A fragrance she had known for years, since her XII th standard. They say we get the best of our friends while in school but surprisingly Geet met her best friend when in Std XI and then she was in college. When she wonders how two people who were so different could be so good friends, only one name can come to her mind and that’s Suhana, her best friend. They shared some unforgettable moments of camaraderie with their madness, their eccentricities and their smiles. Suhana had always been the more matured, responsible type and Geet the maverick. Suhana would give hours of long lecture to her on life, on how she planned for her future but somewhere both were very similar. They both never gave a second thought before deciding to go out, were never tired of their stupid jokes and were always on the heels to explore. So in a way, they became friends, best friends, sisters and companions. As Geet could feel the fragrance she realized this was the chest where she had dumped all the gifts she got from her friends, comprising mostly from Suhana. As she came forward she could see that set of three monkeys, being referred to as Geet, that wax Ganesha idol, that golden Ganesha, smiling jovially onto her, brown laughing Buddha, showering all the luck onto her.
Geet could remember all those days. Friendship, for most people is for a certain span of time, when one is growing up and in dire need to make the world feel of his presence. We need to know new information, new things, new tricks, and new topics and hence we need friends. But then as time passes by, new things become old and old friends become distant. May be same things happened between Suhana and Geet. Suhana had to relocate herself on account of her work and then onwards she had always been away. Initially there were phone calls, messages, mails .But then Geet was too busy in handling her new life, new friends. What went wrong between them may be Geet too did not realize but now Suhana was a distant friend. As Geet was looking onto all the items, she could feel all the memories. Somewhere she did feel alone. Perhaps some misunderstandings are never sorted out. She desperately wanted Suhana to be there on her wedding day. She could imagine all the photo clicks where her best friend would not be there. Sometimes Geet realized that Suhana wanted to communicate something so ardently, but once priorities change it becomes very difficult to reach someone. Somewhere Geet felt guilty or may not be! But she could remember Suhana’s last call to her...”Geet, you were not there when I needed you the most” .Geet, the way she was, could not make out any meaning out of this...what did she mean when she said that she was going through worst times? And how worst was it? To her forecasting skills, she could not have thought of any other reasons other than Suhana getting a “B” score instead of her habitual “A”. Could she have asked Suhana about what had happened? May be Suhana would have waited for one call from her, who knows, how desperate and hapless she was!! But then never did Geet call Suhana and some of the calls and messages from Suhana went unattended and then at one point, they too stopped.

While leaving Kolkata Suhana had gifted Geet a teddy...it was a white teddy with brown eyes, brown bow, and red jacket and she said “Geet, remember me, and take this gift as if this is me...whenever you want me I would be there and in this way you would also know how I am”. That was when they were 17 and now after almost a decade, Geet could hardly remember of the worn out, discoloured teddy. As her mother was picking up each and every item from the chest and discarding most of them, Geet felt like crying. Should she keep those or throw away? Does it really matter to her now? She doesn’t know where Suhana is, she never made any effort to know, and now she wanted Suhana to come to her wedding, just because she wanted to get a picture perfect?
Geet actually started waiting for Suhana’s call. Although she never invited Suhana to the wedding but she knew that Suhana must have, by this time known about it. They had some common friends. Somehow it didn’t happen to Geet that she should call Suhana and invite her. May be she just forgot her. But now that all their childhood memories had been reincarnated, she felt a strong urge that Suhana should have been there. After all they planned so much. And shouldn’t the best friend be there on such an occasion as wedding? Shouldn’t Suhana be telling her about her bridal make up? She missed all those. You can perhaps substitute functions but not human beings. So Suhana with her little lost looks, mostly uncombed hair and those thoughtful eyes was not around.
Geets’s mother was waiting for her to take the decision whether to throw away those unnecessary items of worthless memory or to still hold on to them while Geet was lost in herself. It took some time for her to return to the practicality of the present. She looked into the wooden chest. A lot many greeting cards emerged, so many things scribbled on them with multi coloured sketch pens...as Suhana used to say...cards should be colourful. Many other things also emerged...like an old lantern, some clothes, an old blanket, along with those broken pieces of memory. And then slowly as they were approaching the depth of the box, there lay the teddy. Geet used to call it Guttu, her best friend personified, gifted by her best friend! Old, dilapidated, faded. All the memories were flashing in front of her eyes and slowly she drooped and tried to hold Guttu in her hands. She could feel the drops in her eyes and as she was holding Guttu, the teddy, it collapsed. Perhaps years of ignorance has taken a toll on it and its wool ,the stuffed cotton inside, the brown eyes, all were lying scattered on the terrace. And then it emerged...from among the debris....the shining , sparkling chain with a yellow smiley...Geet remembered some day she had stuffed that inside Guttu and then stitched it. Perhaps Geet received the wedding gift from her best friend...who knows where was Suhana then...May be in some unknown place, miles and miles away from her, never to come back.

Glass Wall

Recently I encountered a friend of mine who is in dire need of help because she is trapped in a room where nothing could reach her!! I tried hard to communicate to her, I shouted, cried, banged but nothing happened. Then I realized that at some point of time this has happened to so many of us! May be me too! We are humans and we cannot help but sometimes get trapped in these glass boundaries beyond which we cannot progress. Sometimes these boundaries are self imposed sometimes by society. We don’t even realize how far away we are going from our loved ones and when we do, it’s too late. Or rather sometimes we don’t even try to realize. We are so obsessed with either our happiness or our grieves that we never know when it’s all over. And this made me truly sad. We can make people understand small things but not basic things. Why should someone would have to communicate repeatedly that the person is very ill and at least a friend should ask that how that person is? But some people are blind as always, more concerned about the oncoming events of their lives .May be a little more sensitivity to near and dear ones could have made them better people. But I do not blame this on them, because they are unaware and really they may deserve some pity!!
And truly speaking damage control doesn’t really help once the damage is done. I keep on saying this. That every relation has a threshold and better we not cross that. Because once that’s crossed neither the love remains nor the interest, at least in my case. May be that threshold varies, may be the persons vary but what remains constant is the absence of the person when you needed him/her the most. And somehow I do forgive but I cannot forget..in spite of my amnesia and habit to forget things like keys, spectacles, wallet etc (may be I particularly suffer from TIA...Tangible Items Amnesia). So damage control may get us back colleagues and well wishers but not friends and if one is happy with that, nothing to say but really life is quite miserable without true friends !!And so the point I needed to say , which means the entire idea behind writing this post was that lets give some thought that we do not get trapped in this invincible selfishness (either due to business and specially happiness) that we part from things which are more precious.

Why I dont like Arranged marriage

People, specially those who count among my friends often tell me that I am being impractical by not having any faith on arranged marriages.Perhaps every person has his or her own philosophy of life and abides by his/her principles (I do respect that)and I too have those.Those who know me, know this also how determined and clear I am in what I beleive in.So here comes another of my beliefs and that is, I dont at all beleive in arranged marriages.

Without trying to justify what is right and what is wrong I can only say what I think because I am not the right person, for that matter nobody is the right person to comment on this and this has no correlation with the marriage being successful. Yes , it is true that statistics says that arranged marriages are more successful, atleast in India.But isnt thats only the expected? Thats because we Indians are mostly very fond of "what society says, thinks,comments or even dreams " about us and so in cases where the marriage has been fixed by society , is also "so called" stable.Also , for me arranged marriages lack ownership which means somehow we want to take a joint decision, hence breaking off an arranged marriage is also a joint decision.So isnt that obvious that people who couldnt decide by themselves during marriage would have less probablity to decide by themselves to call it off? Hence the result!! To me getting married is completely personal choice and perhaps I can fall in love with the worst person but is that a folly? I say no. Because I respect my freedom to take this most important decision of my life, I enjoy the whole idea, rather being a "yes papa no papa" girl.And why not be happy if this makes sense to your life? Because we all have different definitions of happiness. To me it may be derogatory to realize that my life partner has been chosen by someone else and I have been "selected" first on the basis of my family's wealth, status, my education , my beauty and then if I pass, at all, the cut-of marks I am selected on the basis of what I am. And by that time two families start expecting so much that in a way people become biased and say a "yes".

I may sound ridiculous if I say that I would rather prefer not to marry than to go for an arranged marriage.Very strong statement, isnt it? But I remember one of my friends saying that its not like semesters that we "have to".If some people are more happy taking their lives decisions themselves then let them be. Somehow I fail to understand why getting married to any person is more standard and normal than staying alone on one's one terms. So sharing everything..from our emotions, resources, family and the bed with someone you dont even love is more valid than staying alone and living on one's one terms?Somehow I fail to understand that.Some may say that only the initiating process is arranged and then its all about whether you can fall in love or not and then you take the decsion.But isnt that too simulated? Infact simulated love marriage! which too I fail to understand..truly sometimes I think I am too dumb to get those nuisances of so called "normal , standard, practical" life. But really doesnt matter..may sound very obstinate and over confident but again its all happiness and being comfortable with oneself that matters and I cannot be a hypocrite..yes thats my favourite word as by now everybody who know me might have known.

So I can fall in love first, second, third, fourth...times and fail and then again fall in love but still I would prefer to take decisions of my life based on my very own choices be it marriage, career or anything else and then again if I go wrong I will mend myself but still take decsions myself and so on...

A Yes to a No

One of my friends tells me that he is frustrated with life. It has been thrice in his lifetime of 26 years that the girl of his choice has said a “no”. And of course it’s not the same girl who has said a “no”. He was tired of listening to all “No’s. His parents would say “no”, his teachers would say “no” and who not!!He would wonder sometimes about where had the “yes” faces disappeared! He felt sick.
In fact this struck me also. Where had the “Yes” faces disappeared? Where are they? Someone who could just say a “yes” without weighing each and everything. I may sound too irrational in my opinion, but don’t we need some people who would just be there, without thinking of tomorrow? Yes I agree we need to weigh things, but aren’t we spending too much effort now a days for this “value analysis”? And as I was pondering over this two faces emerged before me, two people with whom I have been friends for a very long time. Although some “great minds” who are too obsessed with present and future may feel that I am cribbing for them,cribbing for the past etc etc, but I certainly do not have any such intension. It is all about admiring some people who deserve it.
I met him when I was in Std XI and then onwards I have always known him as someone who could make others laugh at his expense. We used to mock at him, but then at the end of the day how many people would be there who could make himself so stupid that others smile? And some of them were not even his friends. He would imitate so badly and so sincerely that one could not ignore him. He could sing well and I still remember how we used to sing, rather shout in the college canteen. He would dance like mad in the college festivals and sometimes I used to think what kept him going! Some of his PJs (rather bad PJs), they are still shared among our friends circle and in an instant we start laughing. And who can forget his “Good morning “mails after joining work...so refreshing, so sweet (although forwarded). Being stupid made sense for him and now after about 10 years of knowing him, makes sense for me too.
Another has also been my friend for a long time. In fact she has been the person with whom I have fought maximum times and again been friends. Once again I met her too when in Std XI.Perhaps Scottish Church College had at offering the best of friends for me!! We used to go for city hopping and I still remember all those days of Durga Puja pandal hopping. During those days we were so unaware of the city details that more often than not we used to lose track of directions and lanes. But then never I found a “no” on her face. It was constant fun. Be it getting down from the bus and drenching in the rain or tasting our favourite “Fuchka” at the nearby stall in our college. Jhalmuri, chowmein, rolls, fuchka all made sense for us. And any day, any time you just ask her, and there she comes with her bright big eyes (which she used to call “Bullock cart’s headlight”) and an ever smiling face.
But guess all “yes” faces are somewhere lost in the crowd...some “santa-banta” faces and some “dumbo duffer” faces....Can just hope to find some more!!! And just when I was writing this,luckily I got one :)

Fatigue

Dayananda , a nondescript man of around 55 years was getting ready. As he was combing his hair the strange sound was coming..."kchhhhhh...krchhhhh...khrhhhhhhh".His head was like a barren land surrounded by fertile vegetations. All the years of negligence had carved out silver glossy dimensions...somehow over the years he found it more interesting and intriguing to nurture ones thoughts than ones hair, skin, and appearance.Dayananda was a professor in the nearby Leelabhai College of Arts. He was the only Economics Faculty of the most neglected department of the college. However, he had always managed to get grants, approval for new books, arrangement of events , more than the department deserved. There were only 14 students enrolled and as he said it gave him special opportunity to take care of each of them personally. Although his profession as a lecturer gave him immense satisfaction yet his quest for knowledge was not satisfied. So , last 5 years he had been actively into writing various papers and books which meant that he didn’t get any time at all to think of himself. And he was quite successful at it. Various invitations for him were pouring in and slowly he was into the elite section. And why he shouldn’t be content if he had such a nice family to share all that joy? Dayananda's family included a daughter, Shanti, a son, Divya Shankar, his wife Neeti and his most beloved granddaughter Rishita. His wife had passed away long back when Divya was just 10 years old. Since then, he had been with his kids in their ups and downs and tried his best to “act’ as their mom and be their father as well. He was combing and looking into the mirror, thinking of his early courtship days with his wife. Does he have any regrets? No not at all, he was quite happy. He had his own priorities and he had enjoyed every bit of it. One thing when he looks back was that he had been so much in congruence with his family throughout his life that he had been the best dad, best husband and a man with least expectations, minimal demands.
But this time he was a little frightened, a little apprehensive. In his endeavour of knowledge quest, he never knew when he developed some ailment until it started paining him in the chest. So far in his life he had been quite a healthy man , so probably his friends and family never had thought of him as being ill. And this was so true about Daya,most people in his vicinity would not think that he too needed some care. Whenever there was any issue, the onus of solving it had always been on him. Sometimes he felt tired of it, but then he thought that may be most people were not in a condition to leave behind ego and approach others.Afterall very few could have this simple thought that talking to friends doesn’t make one small. Such a Dayananda was going to the hospital. He was quite amused as he was going there first time for himself and he was quite sure that it’s all because of his culinary choices that he had got acidity problem. Before this he had been to the hospital many a times. When any of the people in his neighbourhood was in a problem, he was the first to go, in spite of his busy schedule. May be he was so used to his laid back life of about 20 years that the past 5 years of busy schedule couldn’t just drive him away from his social service.

Daya dressed himself up in a light yellow shirt and brown trousers. For a moment he thought whether those were his lucky ones, but then he was so sure about his acidity problem that he stuck to whatever he wore. His family did not seem very inquisitive about his going to the hospital, after all it is quite normal for a middle aged man to go to hospital occassionaly.The only thing that stuck to Shanti was now, after he gets well, he would be able to keep his things in place, neatly because she was tired of doing household work and could not, in any way give extra space. Shanti’s life was centred around her family and in this course when it had shifted from being centred around family to being centred around cooking, cleaning, dusting and decorating probably she also didn’t know. So she desperately needed time for herself. She was still unmarried and may be her loneliness gave way to eccentricities. To her, Daya was a good man; just a good man and she never wanted to go beyond that. Daya had always wanted to see some respect for him in her eyes, but somehow his emotional quotient was too high to match with her seamless efforts towards household work. So both of them were like two extremes, never able to appreciate each other. But being his first issue Divya thought that he shared a special connection with Shanti. So just when he was about to leave he had this tint of desire in him that may be she would just like to come along with him. And his son, what could he expect from his son, he was a busy man and had never had time. It was only during dinner time that they would meet. But conversations were not more that "how are you” types. Neeti, his daughter in law was someone like Shanti 5 years back .She was so meticulous about everything and so full of life. Sometimes she would just marvel Daya with her uncontrolled creativity .Sometimes Daya would just ponder over the transitions people have like Shanti had, like Neeti might have. May be people tend to lose sensitivity very early to things which are too close to them.
Daya, as usual without any demands, decided that it actually doesn’t make sense that people would accompany him. He was not going to die and he was old enough to take care of himself. So giving this rationale to himself, happily he set his journey towards hospital.
Amravati hospital was about 10 kms from where Daya stayed. Instead of driving his car (as he was feeling very tired), he chose to take a cab. When he reached it was about afternoon. As he approached the main gate he was welcome by a huge board, written on it the names of all the doctors, their qualifications and specializations which he could hardly understand. So going by his own knowledge, he found the name "General Medicine" most approachable and hence immediately he got an appointment with the dean of that section. It gave him immense pleasure that he had been able to select the right person in such a little time. The beautiful lady sitting at the desk gave an appointment of 12.30 pm and in turn asked him for 450 bucks. God!!! Thought Daya, just for one visit they need 450!! And on top of that Rs 100 extra for registration. It was really irking him. It was not that Daya didn’t have the money but to him spending so much on just a doctor was of no value addition. Anyway, since he had already landed in the hospital he had no other choice. He was keenly waiting for 12.30 when the attendant took him to the corner room, Room no 9 , where a bulky man in maroon shirt and black trouser was sitting. He was speaking to someone in phone and giving instructions about what to eat when. As he saw Daya coming in he greeted him and asked him to sit on the chair in front of him. By this time his call was over and he was looking directly on to his face. Daya didn’t know where to start. So he thought its best to say what he had and what he thought."Doc, I am getting a strange pain in my chest and back and I like spicy food, probably acidity?"The doctor did not actually look very happy with this self diagnosed patient of his but was calm. He got the details of the pain, and then as usual scribbled something on his notepad. He asked him "Look Mr Sharma, I have written few diagnostics tests, get it done asap.Only then we can come to any conclusion”. When he came out of the room, he was again guided by the same attendant to the counter on the other side. This was specially meant for diagnosis. As he apprehensively asked the man sitting on the other side of the desk about the prerequisites of the tests and the total amount corresponding to those he was very optimistically told about the entire process.”Sir , the doctor has rightly given you some 11 tests.5 out of which are to be done in empty stomach .So please come in the morning without eating anything. Also you should have a minimum of 12 hours gap between your last food intakes. There is one ultrasound and rest are after food tests. The entire procedure would take about 4-5 hours and cost only Rs3500.Shall I book your slot for tomorrow?” For a moment the word “slot” seemed incomplete to Daya and he thought of the letters “er” being added to it. He could not decide what he should do. But then his pain was also becoming uncontrollable, so he thought better to get those done. So he booked next day’ s “slot”.

As Daya was getting back home, slowly one thought was creeping into his mind. Is all this worth doing? And if really he goes through all these he “must” be diagnosed with at least something, at least to justify the expenditures. But it should be , of course something very trivial. He was thinking all these while travelling and he didn’t realize when his home had arrived. He was eagerly waiting for people to ask about what had happened in the hospital. As he stepped in he could see Neeti, dusting the sofa and scolding little Rishita. He was so eager to share his first experience with himself in the hospital that almost the entire story was at his mouth. Neeta looked at him calmly with an “again” on her face but didn’t ask anything. Daya , a little disappointed, walked into the kitchen where Shanti was preparing kadi , which she makes really well. Shanti was a little concerned , so she asked “You came back? Nothing serious I hope?Papa!you were panicking just like that”. Daya didn’t realize , why, but her last words irked. At dinner table his son was very passionate about the new Hindi movie release and hence Daya didn’t feel to be an intruder into his happiness.

The next day, nobody knew that Daya was going to the hospital. Early morning as prescribed without having breakfast he came out. The time taken for the entire process seemed to be more than predicted and the process was also not that smooth. From one counter to the other, from one process to other, quite like B school placements. However although it was very draining for him, but it gave him some time to watch so many varied people, all at one place, all with one thought but with different ways of reacting to it. He saw the very old mother holding her old son’s fingers. She couldn’t even stand straight, yet she seemed confident. He saw the man in half pant with his pregnant wife, taking care of every small thing. He saw the family who came with their son, daughter –in-law and grandson , only for the check up of the lady. He watched the doctors, nurses, kids and kids’ parents. It was a new experience which he could not have explained through his economics. It was something more than that. The most amazing part he realized, that how every human is of value to someone or else. However ugly he may be, however old and fragile he may be, he had someone to value him, unlike the ugly world of economics. He tried hard to equate things, to form norms of equations but in vain. Finally when the entire process for him was over he was asked to come back later , or the next day to get the reports.
Getting back to home it was almost the repetition of his previous day experience. Once again he realized how sensitive all can be to things which we can see and not to things which we could have felt. So his shaggy unshaved rusticness matters but his being upset was just a feeling secluded to himself.
It seemed the doctors were also in a state of confusion about Daya’s ailment. So tests, reports ,retests, new tests, revised reports all continued for the next few days making him fragile than he actually was. Somehow he started believing that he should have some disease. He must have. The trigger which started on account of cost effectiveness became a way to prove some people , some people who were so very close to him. Now he really hoped that something serious should happen to him. He was getting more and more impatient to know the reports, to prove that he was actually ill. He had always believed that all problems could be solved by sorting them out. If two people wanted to sort out their differences cant they? Or at least one can be sure of what went wrong!!!In his case he had no explanation for the loopholes in the system , in the minds of his loved ones or in him and nobody else seemed to be interested to dig out the cause. May be being apathetic saves time, energy and efforts , he thought.It was not that he was someone so speial in his eccentricities that his beloved ones never even found time to ask him a simple question about his health, but the problem was that everyone had their own priorities and poor Daya didnt fugure out in their priority inspite of having given his lifelong efforts towards them.
The next day was the final day. The final reports were expected. By this time he had taught himself not to expect anything , so silently he came out of his house. While he was travelling, lot of things were happening inside him. He was thinking about his childhood, his parents, his friends , everyone. Suddenly he realized how vague his thoughts had been so far. Oh yes!!! Vague and in despair !!! All of his people had been so right in judging him, isn’t it?? Life for everyone is full of faked things, fake happiness, fake choices , fake compromises, fake sacrifices and fake friends , so why not fake illness? Once someone had told him that how could he be ill if he was jumping around with his granddaughter!! So was the joy of playing with her in spite of his illness a lie or the illness a lie? It really struck him. He was really an attention seeker may be, quite true at his point of age, he thought. He was hating everything around and the same time this new realization gave him freedom. It really didn’t matter to him who is there for him, for whom he adds value.
Daya was mechanically driven to the hospital , he collected the reports, didn’t even bother to look at them. Once again guided by the attendant, he was taken to the doctor. This time 500 bucks came out of his pocket so spontaneously that he could have never imagined otherwise. The doctor looked serious and concerned , explained him details but nothing mattered to him. He could hardly hear anything.
The next Daya was sitting on the roadside footpath, intensely speaking to himself, thinking, and then speaking. He thought of his parents, staying miles away from him in his native village. He always missed being with them and sometimes felt guilty too. After all it’s only them for whom he had so many demands and who had never asked for anything. His mobile was ringing, repeatedly...” Maa calling” and a roadside dog, sitting beside him was passionately biting his medical reports..prescriptions....Who cares? and Who cares!!!!

By My Side...

When in the odds of all times, we walked through
I thought you know me the best..
And in the greens and yellows we sailed through
Don’t you think so my dearest?

In all those hours of solitude, you gave me a hand
And I could feel how special I am from the rest,
You made me feel home in this unknown land,
Don’t you think so my dearest?

I could shade tears, I could laugh aloud,
Thinking you would be standing next,
In my smiles,vagaries & failures,still by my side you stood,
Don’t you think so my dearest?

And then when there came a chilling blow,
When the storm was rising high, amidst
All unknown faces I needed you,
Were you there my dearest?

To you

When in the darkness of night
I wake up suddenly,terrified,
Hopeless,blank,without any light,
I think of you, I miss you.

When on my bed I lie,
All alone,numb and still,
I can feel you, sitting by
My side, sweet and caring.

When I feel like breaking into pieces,
When I am mocked by everyone,
You come to me and take away all my pains,
And I sleep peacefully.

When amidst oceans of deep unrest
I am at the verge of sinking,
You lend me your hand, lest,
I would have been lost forever.

When I seek someone very own,
In between thousands of unknown faces,
Your image emerges, you are my very own,
And I feel pacified.

I am a part of you,
I am in you, always,
You make me exist,I hope I was with you,
Always and forever............


(This poem is dediacted to my dearest mom and dad)

What if....

What if the last drop in the ocean dries,
And the thrist of hope is carried forever,
What if I get lost in the unknown sighs,
And then comeback never?

What if the sunlight never reaches the ground,
And forgets its path somewhere on the way,
What if I say I never wanted to be there,
And then forget everything that comes on my way?

What if the rainbow never shows up again,
And all the colours are forgotten,
What if I never go to search them?
All colours become faded and rotten.


What if all the goodness glances vanish
And there are no friendly smiles?
I too draw an end to it,
And hatred pervades everywhere, for miles and miles..

What if I say that I want to break into pieces,
And shatter all in vicinity?
What if I diminish to a point,
And travel towards infinity?

What if I free myself from all false ties,
And travel the blessed path forever,
Will you still remember me , my dearest,
If I am not there?

Silence Says...

I can sing a song for you
A song that brings you joy shower,
But never will I come to you,
And you shall know me never...

I can tell a story to you,
That will soothe you and remind you of good times,
But never will I need anything from you,
Though I will be a friend for all times....

I can be by your side,always,
In sunshine and cloudy days,forever,
But always will be parted in our ways,
And you will know the reason never....

I can love you, be with you, be a friend of yours,
And make your life the best,
But I can never be yours,
Till I lie silent, at eternal rest.....

Illusion

Do you know the little fairy
Who lives near the old castle,
And spends swiftly her hours,
Tingling,singing and talking to flowers?

Do you know the little fairy
Who peeps from behind the clouds,
And the reddish tinge on her cheeks
Brightens from behind the silver lining as she peeps?

Do you know the little fairy,
Who plays with the stars and the moon,
In the magical hours of dawn and dusk,
And who flies up above with the skylark

Do you know the little fairy
Who laughs for no reason
And who is always so humane,
Who dances with the first shower of rain?

Do you know the little fairy
Who fulfils everyones's wishes,
And consoles the forsaken child who cries,
With her feathery touch and bright big eyes?

Do you know the little fairy,
Who speaks with unspoken words,
And showers the joy of first love,
And then sits at peace like a dove?

Do you know the little fairy,
Whose round big eyes say everything?
With her love and care she nurtures everyone,
She lives everywhere and within everyone.

A Maiden's Little Desire

She is my dream, though a distant vision,
A token of love,who knows where is she?
My soul, my passion,
Yet so far away from me

She wonders in the secrets of my heart
A desire veiled from everyone,
Her smile makes me laugh,her wounds make me hurt
Oh!She is my very little imagination

Her small paddy feet dance in rhythm,
Her innocent face blushes in the mystic moonlight,
And her bright big eyes,they twinkle
My little hope is untouched from every false delight.

Though a fancy, yet very often,
Her thought veils all my feelings,
And my bitter parts soften,
And my life drenches with the offerings.

And I forget every gloom and pain,
She leads me too a brighter world and shows a new way,
Full of smiles and hope, though all in vain,
As she is still so far away....

Love for You

Let me lift my soul and my heart far away from thee
Where the songs of spring are not sung
And no one with hope and love comes to me
Friend , I have forgotten thee.

My bones ache, my voice trembles, my heart pains
All my senses have become dead
I have waited for you many a days
Friend, now I have freed thee

For ages I have confined myself in darkness
And subdued my passions for you
I have veiled myself and lost my face
Friend, I have forgiven thee

You have won everything you urged for
For me its only some reminents
And now there is nothing to adore
But friend , I have loved thee



(Written on 30.10.2000)

Lost

I searched for myself amidst the grey and white clouds,
Ladden with the burden of moisture
And floating in the highest of sky tower
But I could find myself no where, no where

I searched for myself in nature's green
In the bud, in the leaves, and the dreamy flower,
And all that is unknown, undeciphered, unseen,
But I could find myself no where, no where

I searched for myself amongst the lifeless concrete
In each selfish cage, in each suffocating bower
And looked for myself in the darkened shadows
But I could find myself no where, no where


I searched for myself in the songs of the wanderer
Hoping to be retrived by someone, somewhere
In life's song, in the rainbow of its experiences
But I could find myself no where, no where

I searched for myself in the deepest ocean
Where all hide their gloom,secrets and desire
Cant I see myself in him, I asked?
But I could find myself no where, no where

An Incomplete Ode

Every time you say how alone you are,
Haven’t you seen me walking by your side?
Every time you see the cloud up there
Don’t you see the glow of golden beside?

You say there is no one
I say it’s only you,
The stars are many and only a sun,
Is there really nothing to do?

In the moonlit night
When we walk down that lane..
Can’t you not see our lives ahead, a bright light—
Can’t you not see our lives together wane?

In the shadows of darkness
When there is no light to lead the path
I can hold your hand and close my eyes
And be with you till the eternal path

Can’t you read those unsaid words?
Or may be you are too close and still so far away,
May be I will be lost and never be back again
May be ....................


(Written on 28th June, 2009 at 1.30 am)

For me forever ?

Will you be there my dearest?
Standing by my side, when the first ray of sun,
Strikes the green meadow?
Will you be there my dearest?

Amidst the lifeless jungle of concrete,
Where I will find myself alone and forsaken,
Travelling the endless, unblissful journey,
Will you be there my dearest?

Among thousands of faces,
Where everyone disbelieves me,
When I will seek you with a glance of faith ,
Will you be there my dearest?

In my pensive moods,
In shadows and brightness ,
With me, within me, forever,
Will you be there my dearest?

At the end of the long tiring path,
When I will stand at the fading hours of my life,
And wait for you to hold my hand,
Will you be there my dearest?

In the last freezing hours when my heart cries for you,
When my soul strives for freedom --
And I say the final adieu,
Will you be there my dearest?

Castaway

It was a long, very long path.Madhu was walking down the lane, hurrying for her classes. As she took the turn she saw him. What went inside her she barely knows! Yes it was him or is it someone else? Because in all these months she had several times seen him just because she wanted to see him desparately.She stopped for a moment, thinking , might be again she was going through the same phase of semi halucianation.But no, it wasnt.It was actually he, a tall dark image was approaching her. As she realized this she thought what to do. Should she turn back and in turn get late for the class, or talk to him or just ignore him?



In these few months life has really become tough for Madhu.How do you actually interact with someone with whom you want to talk so desperately and yet cannot. As they got close to each other he approached her with his everlasting smile. She had no option but to greet him and then they together started walking down the lane to the college. They were talking of all sorts of things, but somewhere she felt awkward. She could not drive away that feeling of being "unwanted”. She tried hard, but how can she forget that she is just a "replacement" and was never a priority? She hated herself for this- after all she cannot stake her existence by being a replacement. She, Madhu has her own, very own existence and in any case that is not compromisable.

But hasn’t he changed? Isnt he genuinely sorry for what he did? Might be, might not, after all 7 months is not small. And in these 7 months, advices have been poured over her, time and again. Her judgement in choosing friends has been questioned, mocked and criticised. People have tried to give her crash course on the selection process, something which she dislikes so much- after all individual lives are all about their own judgements. And what can she or for that matter he do if she is not one of the top priorities in his life? She cannot blame him for this but yes, she can blame him for the perception he had created in her mind about their friendship.

Then she thought that what was the need for him to come back after 7 odd months. He was happy and she was trying to acclimatise herself with the new settings of friends. Initially she would skip her lunch just because he was not there to share it. And then she would leave the classroom early so that both of them are not left out alone. But then she had got new friends, to whom she mattered. So she was learning a life without him and then he returns. Why? She never understood what was the need for him to go away and then again come back? Wasn't he sensitive enough to understand what she desperately tried to make him understand? Yes, it was continuity of relationship. She expressed this time and again. She knew once that is lost she would never be able to deal with him normally. And exactly the same thing happened.
Now that he is there, she can neither ignore him nor love him. They can neither be enemys nor acquaintances nor friends. And when she sees him speaking to a group of friends, she calmly avoids them and walks away along anther path. May be the problem is within her or somehow he is unable to make her understand that she is also "important"?
Who knows when these two friends will come back to terms once again or may be they will be lost just like some other unforgettable chapters of life.

The Vendor and I

It was a dark , very dark night--
Hours of solitude were cruel and killing;
Happiness and gloom, nothing was in sight;
I found myself empty, existence was stinging!

My eyes could see nothing,
My senses could not feel those drops in my eyes,
Silence was irking, every limb was aching,
Life seemed a dale of imitations and sighs.

Then I saw him with his glowing eyes,
I saw the vendor, who sells everything,
From happiness to pain, from laughter to sighs,
His vision was deep and penetrating.

The vendor seemed so ugly and dismal --
His clothes were torn and lacked splendour,
He was different, yet lethal,
His face reflected a cruel vigour.

Yes, I know he was the worst human,
But he was also the most truthful,
He was savage, cynic and brutal,
He looked innocent and yet aweful.

He lived in the castle -- odd and drowsy
That stood beside the ocean of sanguine waters;
The structure was faint and shabby
And amidst was a lake of tears.

I thought all these and then I asked myself
Why am I glad at his arrival ?
For a moment I repented, I cried to myself,
I searched for someone else, I searched for a lost damsel.

I turned to him and asked,
"Can you sell me my past time?"
He exclaimed, scouted and mocked!
As if I had commited some crime.


Then he replied ,"Yes, I sell everything and I sell to all,
But can you buy those?
Those years are but a mirage, a betrayal to the soul,
Some memories of a forsaken life, just like a stale rose."

I was shocked at my incapability,
My failures have once again struck me!
Yet I was content and free,
And free from those years that followed me.

Then I could see an auspicious glitter in him,
He looked confidant and dauntless,
He selled what he had to, he was happy to the rim.
And I knew he bought my darkness.

Comeback

Dear friend,why are'nt you laughing?
Its a land of happiness where you are,
The stars shine bright and the church bells are ringing,
Trace of gloom and sadness is very rare;
The nightangle sings songs of spring,
The buds are about to open their eyes,
The leaves murmur, the branches swing,
The ocean has hidden in its breast all their sighs;
And the lovely flowers that grow by the roadside
Are dancing too in rhythm,
They have known their existence too is a pride,
As the sun smiles for them;
The tiny pebbles on the street move about randomly
As the soothing breeze carries them
The dust,the rusty leaves are all happy;
Everyone is lost in the game;
Now the green leaves have forgotten to mock at the yellow,
And they together ornate nature's home,
The ocean,the rivers - small, big, deep and shallow,
They all have rights to loiter and roam;
The trees are bowed with fruits on them,
And they are no more selfish, no more rude,
They feel no grievance , no shame
Perhaps they have known the joy of motherhood;
Every trivial being, big and small laugh,
Its the victory of joy over gloominess,
And its a glorious return to nature,
Dear friend, its your comeback to happiness.

Who Knows?

My friends do not know me,
I come from a mystic nation,
I cant laugh, I cant cry , I cant foresee
I do not have any emotion

The mirror does’ nt show me
The ocean stays still
The mountain bows to me
I am the master of my will

I stay calm , when mortals lament
I pass by the dead lanes
Without a drop trickling down, so silent;
I reside above all feelings and sentiment

I do not wish to know anyone
But I know myself,oh, who says!
My courage says it to everyone
I make my own ways

Who knows when my oddness
Had become me!
Who knows when my lonliness
Had overpowered me!

Who knows when I was desserted
And thrown out to face the cruel self
And then least cared
Who knows when I succumbed to death.

(Written on 05.02.09 at 12 am)

In my dreams...

In the depths of dream was I,
When I saw you my friend,
In the depths, alone, there I lie,
Waiting , waiting for the end

I saw a light in the distant lane
Who knows from where did it come
A spark that made me feel alive again
So much my own , so much warm

You came like a gust of wind
And swept everything close to me
Who knows what else is to unwind
And what else is there for me to see

A stagnant pool of water was I
You transformed it to a river
A river that washed away every sigh
A river that may reach you never

An old rusty lock , few discoloured pages
With no one to write a new story
Some idle moments and a stack of memories,
You sought to find out the key

I feel your fragrance in the misty air
I feel your presence in my sadness, in my delight
A friend who is so precious, so rare,
Why cant you see me in your sight?

A stormy winter may be like you
Sweeping away everything
I cry, I urge , but nothing replies to rue
Over my void , leaving behind nothing


And suddenly when my eyes open, I see the reality infront
As stale and silent as ever
Once again set to haunt
Because the river may be lost forever

(Written on 04.02.09 at 8pm)

An Ode To Life

The antique apertures were all closed and dark,
The air rarefied,
Inside the castle was she, struck
With sorrow and horrified.

She grew up in that way;
And never met anyone.
She lived life in a deadly way,
She had never waited for someone.

The castle stood high up in the air,
It was majestic and gorgeous,
It symbolized pride and splendour,
Its apparent hardness was obvious.

People were all afraid of the strange structure,
No one ever dared to enter it,
The emotions in her never did rupture,
The castle was a rare piece with sky above and earth beneath.

And then once in a bright morning,
A narrow sunbeam did make its way,
Through the tranquil ancientness, so overpowering,
It was perhaps the only courage of the day.

She was struck with surprise,
As her face did illumine,
With the countless glowing device,
And she entered into a new world of sunshine.

Now she was happy and gay,
For her old strangeness she did repent;
New hopes bloomed in her way.
The tender touch was so sentient.

Her heart was dazzling with delight,
The heart that has been untouched for days,
Now her happiness touched a new height,
And she thanked the bright sunrays.

It taught her to love, it taught her to live
Her notion of life and its miseries changed;
The passionate particles knew to contrive
Her oddness, and her thoughts from east to west ranged.

She now understood, it is only affection
That can give and take everything,
That gave her an unsaid satisfaction,
And the heavenly gift to her from the glowing sunbeam.

(Something needs to be written about this poem.This peom I wrote when I was 16.This is my first poem .Although I used to write some pretty decent poems as a kid, but then before this one came, I last wrote when I was in Std V.So can say this is my first poem.It was 11th Nov and I woke up suddenly at 4 am,( you only know how unusual is that for me!), because suddenly it happened to me.So one can say, that it is really my dream poem and very close to my heart)

Why I am NOT a Symbian

Dictionary says Symbiosis means "any interdependent or mutually beneficial relationship between two persons, groups, etc.".But do I really belong to that category?
I have many faces - red , green , blue,white and so on.Am I myself aware of those faces?Sometimes yes and most of the times no!They keep on changing like masks.They make me puzzled. I remember once I dreamt of being a carbon atom where my face goes for substitution reaction.Perhaps that was an overdose of organic chemistry in the early years of your life when you just begin to "make" masks.But now I find how true that was.Now I can make,wear and sell masks.My faces are not individuals, some of them like parasites.Creeping creatures who constantly struggle with each other, in an unending endevour to defame each other.And not only this, I sometimes even forget which one is my real face?May be that lies below all these masks!!And why is it so shy to make its presence felt ?May be because the new faces are so much overpowering.But sometimes when in the lonly hours I look at myself I feel desperate, desparate to tear off all those .None of the faces are in symbiosis, none of the faces want each other.How true that is when we see things around us.I may sound skeptic.I may sound pessimistic.But isnt that true?We all have faces, we all are constantly struggling to project the best face.Illusion, they say sometimes makes you happy.True.We human beings are living life in a kind of illusion.We are utmost sensitive to our own needs , be it materialistic or emotional.And we do everything for people we love.Isnt that utmost self centeredness?Because we cannot live without them.Because as humans we are also like parasites who need support and reinforcement to survive.But how often do we think about other people?Isnt the charity we do is also for self satisfaction of being benevolent?I know I can never arrive at objectivity in this regard.When I looked into myself I found that I am a mixture of heterogenous thoughts with contending forms of human rationality and self enforced definitons of logic.I give replies to only those questions which I would like to address and even those questions were formulated by me.We have travelled a long path since the days of Feudalism to Post Modernism all to determine the true human nature.But it seems like a mirage because whatever I think,I think about me,and I mend all the ways to fit that.And when other people criticise me then they too do the same.So I can never get a true picture of what I am.All my faces ,they argue with each other and finally the one wins which fits the situation best to satisfy my personal satisfaction.Hence for the same reason I can treat two different persons differently, I can love one person and hate other ,both having same "specifications" and I can utilise the same dimension of time in different ways.
So all my faces are prime characters in the play called Bidisha.And they cannot mingle with one another, rather all of them exist, in perfect animosity, because the faces ,if they would have been similar would have become one single unit.Their very existence is because they are so different and antagonistic.So I am not a Symbian and I cannot be a Symbian.I only need to identify all those faces..may be one day I will be able to see the multi faced me ....

An Autobiography of a Weathered Leaf

Do you know me my beloved?
I am a torn, yellow, weathered leaf
Of your premises, that is swept
By every small blow of wind, yes, I am just a weathered leaf.
My destination is nowhere
I am carried there, where the gusty winds take me...
I abide here and there
But no one offers a home to me
And whenever I pass by the lanes
Where I can feel your fragrance
My tears come along, like a thousand rains,
And my urge deepens for one glance
My roads are never the same
Sometimes, I travel along the red countryside
And sometimes by the rugged lane
Sometimes across the barren rocks and sometimes by the seaside.
In my endless journey, where the path never does cease
I carry laughter, tears, success and failures with me
I talk to flowers, birds and the gentle breeze
I sleep at the cradle of the shadowy tree
But again, whenever I see myself
In the lucid watersIt reminds me of my green days and I seek myself
In some lost days, in some forgotten years.
And while I travel in the lands far, far away
Yet there's something that holds me back to the past
A bunch of hopes, some stale memories of happiness and gay
And some unspoken feelings that forever last....

P.S. This poem reminds me of JU days..some lost memories,some forgotten lanes...

Soul Dies

Life seems to be a burden of my dead desires,
Hope, nothing but a very distant vision,
Likelihood of some happiness is nil,yet the cruel hours
Are gliding on and on.

There are many men around me,
But yet I am desserted from the crowd,
I have known myself and they have known me,
Oh!I cant love them,I cant hate them,I cant cry aloud

The nature is scattering its sparkling beauty
Everywhere can be seen the glory of sanguine sunshine,
But I can perceive a dark world within,devoid of serenity
A world where I can find nothing mine.

I still carry the burden of my rotten desires.
And survive with the support of some stale memories,
Things were never like this in the past years,
Now I have faced complere seiure of all my feelings.

Everything remains unchanged and the same,
But I am lifeless and tired of pretensions,
My captivity has overpowered my name,
And I am left with my own ruins.

I have never known my sin,
Yet I am lost and I will come back never
I have no tears to shed at my coffin,
My soul has died,my soul rests forever.
PS. : This poem was written long back in 2000 

Imperfect Impressions

Above was blue sky standing still,
Below the vastness of concrete,
A lifeless, terrifying thought,
As if something was unknown, something secret;
The thought was unknown, profound and redolent
And a bemoaning voice could be heard
From a very distant place --a prolix, incomplete thought.
Yet silence pierced through every heart,
Every heart was blank, timid and obsolete,
Motion was still and stagnant,
All changes had already occurred:timelessness was now set,
To make each one foolish, each one vacant


The next was a speedy road—a busy junction
Everyone looked for a moment at the options,
And then turned on—never waiting for anyone,
For anything, each one lost in their own notions
Time appeared at a new pace—each heart—incomplete and unfulfilled, running away
From everything, from everyone and from themselves,
Perhaps, all decided to run on an endless, unblissful and cruel way.

In Search of Eternity

The path never ceases –travels from way onto way,
It is covered with the leaves of antiquity
That are woven in the earth’s muddish array,
As if seeking someone, as if in search of eternity.

The clouds float high above and watch beneath;
Often bemoaning, for their life’s vanity;
They are born, they wander, they die in a myth,
As if in search of a cherished desire, as if in search of eternity.

The ocean, hiding the gloom of thousands in its breast
Receives all, nurtures all – full of divinity;
Centuries have passed, but the ocean – never does it rest,
As if deemed to be immortal, as if in search of eternity.

And that poor old man – with torn clothes and gloomy face,
Bearing the burden of man’s cruelty
Also struggles and survives, worn out in the selfish race,
As if in search of life, as in search of eternity.

Tears wont come

Tears won’t come to me
I have had much of them
You can try as much as possible, may be
But tears won’t come…

Because life never stops and never does it let you stop
Because the oceans go on and on
Because there is some strength in every rain drop
Tears won’t come…

Days sobbed in despair, days, so deceitful,
That I have had…
But they never did defeat me, not at all,
I assure, tears won’t come…

I hate tears, I hate weak moments
They take away everything
And now, that nothing is left to me but laments,
I know tears won’t come…

Let them rest in peace and freedom
Free from my eyes, my soul, where they irked,
Let me see new colours of dawn,
I am happy, tears won’t come…

Stay with me, see with me
To see the clouds unveil the sun
Share the joy and be a part of me,
You will know, tears will never come

Before End Comes.....

Where the ocean shrinks to narrowness,
Where all hopes fall into the dark,
Where each road ceases,
Dear friend, I have crossed that mark….

Where the flowers loose their fragrance,
And the birds – they forget to sing and fly
Where gloom resides in every glance,
Dear friend, now I feel to die….

Where all colors mingle into gray,
Where silence stops to conquer all things,
Where tears stay dumb -- only the eyes say,
Dear friend, I have tried every means….

Where one looses every identity,
Where no hopes lie ahead,
Where desires wait for infinity,
Dear friend, it has been a long time since my soul is dead…

Illusion

The girl watched everything.Their glittering clothes and eyes,their hope ,the unsaid, unexplained lustre in their eyes.The girl. she is just 22 , heading towards an infinite world, in a MBA school.Truly MBA schools give you everything other than time with yourself.Because you have to think of the community, how to make money and then all other means of how to preserve that money.The girl, so lean and so similar to all other girls of her age was almost indistinguishable in the crowd.The crowd had a work to do, that is to cheer up the children.The girld had worked with those children and many others by virtue of her work with the NGO.The children belonged to the backward classes of the society , and the MBA college ,being a premier Business School has to have some CSR activity to promote its benevolence.

Every year the children particpate in the B school festivals.They dance ,they sing ,dressed in beautiful dresses.They come down to the stage like little fairies .They have been with the NGO for a couple of years now.And the NGO has been successfully able to support these children.
The girl, with a spark in her eyes was looking at those children.Children who belong to a class where they dont have any right to dream,and even if they dream,they can only think of lots and lots of money pouring onto them,without even giving a thought where that money comes from.Children who have grown up watching Shahrukhs and Amitavs, teaching them how everything is possible in life . So is it so actually?The girl thought. When she was at home, (where she had not been for a couple of years now), her maid used to idealize her way of dressing up.She would try to do it exactly the way her employer did.The maid respected her so much.But why was it not possible that her maid would have tried to copy her perseverance for education?Why is it only glamour is something to be copied and improvised upon?May be because at some stage you dont have an idea of what to choose.
And now see these children.Under the supervision of the NGO they go to school,they study.But when they come to the festivals, wearing those beautiful dresses arent they attracted by the glam of MBA? a place where mostly students from most affluent families come and try their luck in increasing their already existing money? Arent they illusioned by all these? Will they ever be able to study in these colleges leave apart aspire to become CEOs?
With these stream of questions banging her head, the girl realized that may be these children will never be able to do all that they dream of now.In India there are thousands and crores of people who meet their destiny just beacause it is their destiny! And she cant do anything about it.
With this may be a few lines fom Tagore would have been appropropriate:
"Aguner poroshmoni chhoyao praney...
E jibon purno karo, e jibon purno koro...."

Beyond Time

The sky is mine,the angels are all my friends,
I want to see them,I want to speak with them,
And watch them rejoice beyond the ends,
Dancing and singing in a eavenly rhythm.

I want to look through the cloud,
I know they can never shadow me,
I want to see through then and laugh aloud,
As they play and chatter with me.

I want to peep into the abode of stars,
And perceive the fairy living in the mystic world
When the graceful wonder passes the idle hours,
Adoring her beauty and looking onto the entire world

I want to see the first dew on the green leaf,
When the dawn slowly comes into existence
I want to feel its joy and grief,
And see how it gets drenched in happiness rains.

I want to hover with the the running waters.
As they go on flowing in a n incessant way,
Travelling from land to land ,visiting several harbours,
And carrying burdens in their long tiring way.

I want to rejoice in the verdant of nature,
I want to listen to its song,enjoy its beauty and grasp its rhyme,
And loose myself in the unknown of nature,
I want to cross the limits of eternity and move beyond time.

An Ideal Day for an Ideal MBA!!!

This New Year, that is beginnig of 2009 has been a spectacular one!!!We SCMHRD ians have been taught to accept anything and everything without uttering a word and then again find out all devious means to escape from that.Atleast life here, so far has been like this.So we can nicely accept the fact of "grounding" some 80 people for the entire semester,"grounding" people who on an average are 24 years old,who have decent work experience !!We can accept to do 30 hours of weekly library reading rather "time pass in library" inspite of the fact that we have classes of only 10/8 hrs a day.So to accept something and to do something is altogether different.So now we know that somethings are just to be accepted.But we cannot say anything because somehow we have lost the courage or else we are too reluctant to show our talents here.Ofcourse out of this,some people have emerged,whose level of sustainance for scrap has been quite low and they have urged to change the system.But one thing I have learned after coimng here ,is nothing can kill you if you want to survive.So 10 hours of class.acads,non acads,Surpirse exams with no clue about what exam it is(rem we have only 13 core subjects in 1st sem),and tantrums- all these can just be a part of your curriculum to make you more strong and not "panic" in every single thing.So just one day before exam you can go and rock in a party,chill and sleep.Because we are future CEOs and we should not get tensed.But we should know how to get the work done.Hence we should have a good bunch of friends who should be good in doing assignments and understanding enough to share that with us.Yes,it is true that friends are meant to help and share,someone with whom you spend a good time and then remember those times when he/she is not with you and I do strongly believe that but what if friendship is based on timely basis where you have pockets of friendships and you fit each person in those.That is,you have a best friend before exams,you have another for partying,and then another..and so on...and lo!!!Its so similar to somethings way back!!!And ofcourse we should be good at MS Word and MS Excel,yes ,we have to be,otherwise our teachers are intelligent enough to understand a "copied" assignment if we dont change fonts and colours!!! And expectations!!! As future CEOs we should always lower our expectations for things we have worked hard ,for things we DESERVE.Because other people may get more leverage.After all luck and packaging are important factors in being successfull.So how does one go about it?My suggestions are :(And see I am not asking for any consultation fees)
1.Be social.When you meet any body behave as though the person is your best friend and this is the last time you are going to meet him/her
2.No need to know yourself,just know how to project yourself in a way that gets your job done.
3.You must know how to say the samething in a different way.Seriously it DOES HELP...even in office meetings!!!
4.Be able to go to any body and ask for the assignment which you are going to blindly copy.Dont be ashamed.It is your right.
5.Learn the trick of avoidng and neglecting friends because you cannot have an infinite number of friends.So choose the most productive ones in terms of incentives.
6.Be very sensitive and understanding for your own needs and expectations.When it comes to others,always say that you were very disturbed hence overlooked their problems.
7.Learn to respect people whom you dont want in your life.Remember they are Class C items(aka ABC Analysis),or else they are like old saris kept in the upper most shelf,hardly used,that gets torn along the folds with time.
8.Always think that you are going to die the very next day.So today you can do anything and you will be forgiven.
9.Lament for all the things you have not achieved and when others do so please do not forget to criticise.
10.DO NOT PANIC.

So having said the ten commandments ,now I proceed to say why I feel that the 1st of Jan ,2009 was an ideal day.We had made interesting plans for 31st but because some people feel good to put others in trouble,we had an exam on 1st.But I didnt panic(Rume 10).I decided that I may die the next day,so why not take the exam and die?(Rule 8).Hence inspite of being sad for the fact that 31st midnight is screwed,I criticisd others who were sad ,gave them gyan and in turn gave enthu to others for studying(Rule 9)!!!Thus I proved to be of great help, and thats because I am very sensitive and understanding (I also need some entertaintment on 31st right!!!And "helping" others is not bad right!!!)(Rule 6).And then on 1st morning,took the exam--had studied so much ,was awake the whole night,that exactly knew how to put the old wine in new bottle.(Rule 3).So exam went so well!!!Then had class,diligently attended the class.But I needed a break and hence could not attend class till 8.30 in the evening.I do respect the prof and I do think that it is good to attend the class,but when I did an ABC analysis of my needs I found that I should go out with friends. Hence bunked two classes(believe me I really wanted to attend)(Rule 7).Had a nice time with friends.And on top of that on 1st Jan I have wished some 100 people,including those I have met in person and others through sms ,phone ,mail etc.Most of them are people about whom I care the least and vice versa.But may be on 2nd Jan ,they will not be there,may be I will not be there,so I wished them and they wished me(Rule 1).But yaa,there are some loopholes also,its not that only I will always get the opportunity to apply the ten commandments on others.So I was neglected by some , who feel that I am Class C.True! every person has his/her limits!!!(Ruke 5).Finally ,didnt have an assignment to do that day, so didnt get a chance to showcase Rule 4.See,we dont get to imply everything on a single day,everyone is not so lucky.
So in all 1st Jan has been a perfect MBA day which implies that the whole year (since I am very superstitious) will be like this.This is good actually.Atleast I will learn something.Otherwise,someone someday has said to me that I should have been a BA.With all due respect to all those who are BA., you only know what it means when people say that why did'nt you do a "BA" instead of being in JU,learning all the skills in class bunking,uttering slangs and doing all the masti !!!So now that I am not a BA ,rather M"BA", I aspire to follow all the rules religiously this year and work very hard on the rules.
P.S : Just tried to follow Rule 2.....