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.

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!!!!

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.

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...."