The Cotton Princess of Paithan

Close to the city of Paithan, in a small village called Sauviragram, which lay along the banks of the great river Godavari, lived a woman named Ilaa. Being cotton farmers, her family was well to do, but not
among the richest in their area. It was the harvest season, and cotton had to be picked from the plants. The wholesalers and traders from Paithan would be arriving in just a few weeks, carrying gold and goods
for barter. They would exchange what they carried for the cotton that the farmers grew. The bales of cotton had to be ready in time! Work was at its peak!

But Ilaa was not to be found in the fields. She wasn't working. Instead, she was sitting by the banks of the great river Godavari.

'I am sick of this!' she grunted loudly. 
‘Ssshhh…Ilaa don’t shout, you are not supposed to’, said Manasi by putting a finger to her lips.

‘And why so, because I am a woman’

‘You know it Manasi, you have seen me throughout. We have been friends from our childhood days. Tell me one boy leave alone a girl who knew all the vedas and shastras the way I do.’

‘You remember when we were 11 years old and GuruJi informed that it’s the last year of learning for us. Every girl in the village was happy except me. I wanted to know so much more, but my father refused to go against the customs of the village.’

‘He always knew I was more able than all the other boys, he even wanted to support my education but the customs of the village prohibited him to do so.’

‘If it wouldn’t have been GuruJi I would never have learnt Accounts. He agreed to teach me as he saw an eager student in me, and my father devised a way to send me for his medicines daily to GuruJi’s house. You know Accounts is so interesting the amount on both sides equate and then…’, her face lit up with joy remembering the early days and tears rolled down her cheek, both at the same time.

‘Every girl dreams about her marriage. You know whom I always wanted to be my companion’, Ilaa said resting her face on her arms looking towards the reflection of
the Sun in the river.

‘I know Saumya, GuruJi’s only son. He sent him to Nalanda, to master the arts of Accounts, so that he would return and help our village, no one has seen him since, he has been gone long it has been more than what 8 years, but tell me something, I know I am not as intelligent as you are, but the cotton traders come to trade; they take the cotton, exchange goods or gold for the value and leave. How Saumya or GuruJi or anyone for that matter can help. The process is as simple as…’ Manasi was about to complete but interrupted by Ilaa.

‘Yes I know but do you know what the correct value of the cotton we produce is, are we paid correct amount of gold? A sack of cotton sells for 8 gold coins in the Deccan region and for 7 in the Bengal region and how much do we get?’

‘What…we are paid only three gold coins, and sometimes four’, Manasi almost shouted in surprise.

’Every year they have the same excuse that they need to pay multiple taxes to the Mughal emperor in order to procure cotton from the villages’

‘But they have all the documents which they show regarding taxes…’, answered Manasi.

‘And who will verify them if they are genuine. They have calculated the same taxes over repeated number of times just to get rebate from us. For ex they just need to pay a onetime tax to the Mughal government in order to trade cotton which includes purchasing and selling process, and they say they have to pay once for purchasing and once for selling and then for crossing borders, to gather these information Saumya is out there learning and gathering all information’, said Ilaa.

‘Okay I see…Now I get it why Saumya our savior is out there’ said Manasi as she chuckled.

‘Do you remember Ilaa, back then in our childhood days you too looked so similar, It was a strange thing but it was so hard to distinguish you both as a child, you both had a striking resemblance.’

‘Okay but tell me one thing, how do you know so much about the trade and taxes and all, did GuruJi told you all this?’ asked Manasi.

‘No Saumya did.’

‘But how he writes to you, I mean. Who delivers the letters to you?’

‘No one’

‘Wait a moment, you mean he comes to meet you’ asked Manasi her eyes open wide in surprise.

‘Yes we have met multiple times since he left. We can’t stay from each other for long.’

‘ We married here at the banks of Godavari last week when he was here, Mother Godavari stands witness to it and of course we two. We have also consummated our marriage’, spoke Ilaa looking in Manasi’s eyes proudly.

 ‘Wake up Ilaa…What about your husband? Don’t you remember you have been married already?’, said Manasi angrily grabbing Ilaa’s arms.

‘Yes I remember I was married at 12 to a 70 year old man which was only to fulfil an old promise, which my grandfather did to Eknath’s father that we would wed a girl from our family to theirs...’ ,paused Ilaa briefly before starting again.

‘ …I was the only girl and look what fate had in store for me, Eknath didn’t had any child so after his wife’s death I was married to him. And now as he is on his deathbed, they want me to beSatimata. Never. All this just to fulfill a stupid promise. I want to live. Saumya will be coming any time soon and I will be gone with him. We two will escape leaving this place behind, the place which only reminds me of shackles. No more shackles Manasi, No more shackles, No more shackles…’, she got up speaking these lines and Manasi watched as Ilaa headed towards the cotton fields.

It was the same evening as Ilaa returned from the fields she saw Eknath’s condition deteriorate. GuruJi was called upon to check the condition.

GuruJi walked slowly through the gates of Ilaa’s house. He reached the room where Eknath was sleeping.  An oil lamp was kept on the window above the bed, the flame fluttered as Ilaa stood by the bedside waving the wooden hand fan.

She stopped as she saw GuruJi enter and folded here hands.

GuruJi sat beside the bed on wooden chair. Ilaa waited anxiously as GuruJi took the left wrist of Eknath to check the pulse and looked up towards Ilaa. He shook his head after sometime and let go Eknath’s wrist. 

‘No GuruJi you have to do something, he cannot die, he should not die’, pleaded Ilaa. 

‘He cannot be saved Ilaa, it’s just a matter of time, may be an hour or so’, said GuruJi. 

‘You don’t understand GuruJi just make him live for one day, please I beg you’ Ilaa fell in GuruJi’s foot and started crying. 

‘You have always been like a daughter to me. I always thought to ask you for Saumya from your father but I waited too long for the return of Saumya and see what fate had in store for you.’ he wept and left the place.

The news of Eknath’s death spread in the entire village and the panchayat immediately made the decision that Ilaa would be sati and will burn along with Eknath and ordered the necessary arrangements to be made. According to the village customs, a hut was supposed to be constructed inside which the husband’s body and wife would be locked and burnt.

Women from the village started offering prayers and preparing Ilaa for the ritual. Manasi was by her side. GuruJi came at the night to meet Ilaa.

He asked everyone to please excuse him as he wanted to talk to Ilaa alone. After some time Ilaa started crying loudly which drew everyone’s attention.

GuruJi opened the door and came out after some time.

A bamboo hut was constructed at night inside which Ilaa was supposed to be cremated alive along with Eknath’s body, which would be locked from outside.

The next day everything happened as expected and Ilaa burnt inside the hut along with Eknath and with that burnt her many dreams.

After a couple of days the cotton traders were supposed to start the trade as the villagers waited for GuruJi to come and start validating the transactions. GuruJi came to the village market along with a man.

The man wore a turban on his head, had a full beard and moustache, he wore a loose robe which covered his entire body. He looked extremely composed. His appearance suggested that of a Sufi saint.
The villagers got up and greeted GuruJi with folded hands. 

‘Saumya come validate the transactions and check if the taxes mentioned here are correct’, said GuruJi.
Everyone was shocked and murmurs started among the villagers as Saumya the only son of GuruJi came back to 

the village.
Saumya took the papers and carefully examined each of them, circled the errors and highlighted them to GuruJi. 

GuruJi then took these matters with the traders .They were shocked as they could not defend their theory this time and had to pay the villagers at par with the Deccan region.

The villagers danced in joy as they earned more than they expected.

Saumya was seen as a savior and the villagers bowed down to him, many even touched his feet, but he never spoke a word and kept to himself.

Most of the time he kept to himself and kept writing his findings. A close friend of GuruJi confirmed that, Saumya has vowed not to speak until the vow that Sivaji took at Raireshwar of Swaraj is not fulfilled. His respect grew even more after the murmurs.

Few months passed and one day suddenly Manasi fell ill. GuruJi examined her, but Manasi did not open her eyes and remained unconscious.

GuruJi returned to his home and told Saumya of Manasi’s condition.

‘She has completely given up. She doesn't want to live it seems. Her husband is old. She fears Sati is coming her way as well. Will you go and have a look at her?’ asked GuruJi.

Saumya nodded in a ‘Yes’ and started towards Manasi’s house along with GuruJi.

As they reached the place GuruJi asked everyone to leave the house and to wait outside. Saumya checked the pulse by holding Manasi’s wrist rubbed her palms, her feet and then rubbed her chest. Mansi did not respond. 

He then looked at GuruJi and GuruJi nodded in a Yes.

‘Manasi, get up look I am here’, he spoke softly in Mansi’s ears and Manasi opened her eyes.

‘You are not Saumya, you are Ilaa, but how can it be possible?’ she asked.

Saumya removed the beard, the moustache and the turban and indeed it was Ilaa.

‘How did all this happen?’ asked Manasi.

‘You remember the night my husband died and GuruJi came to meet me. He asked as why I asked him to keep my husband alive for one more day and I told him about me and Saumya…’

‘…He then told me that Saumya was murdered by thieves who robbed him on his way yesterday as he was returning to the village at the forests surrounding the village. After that he talked to me about how my father contacted him and told that he has hired men to dig a tunnel below the same hut and placed a girl’s body inside it.’

‘I had to get in the hut open the remove the lid from the tunnel get in, place the girl’s body in the hut and remain in the hole for few days.’, said Ilaa.

‘When I went inside for the first time I felt like being a Sati as my Saumya was no more. But all the knowledge and hard work of Saumya would have gone in vain, so I lived and was rescued two days later. And then the cotton came to rescue as GuruJi made me a beard and moustache with it and also a false belly.’

Suddenly the door banged open and in came the members of the panchayat.

‘You thought you will do this sin and we will allow it.’ They took Ilaa by her arm and dragged her out in the open with the whole village looking. 

‘Pray to your God you are going to die, you sinner’

‘Yes I have sinned by helping the whole village prosper so that no Ilaa is sold to another Eknath. I have sinned by passing the knowledge of Saumya to you. And you ask me to pay to God.’

‘You know how I got my name. Listen all of you especially all the women there was a king named Ilaa and he mistakenly crossed a prohibited forest and was cursed to be a female by Shiva.

Later on the persuasion of Goddess Parvati, he turned down the curse and allowed Ilaa to switch genders every month. When even God thinks that being woman is a curse, why would I pray to the Gods? You do as you wish.  

But why should we immolate and why not the men when we die? ‘

‘You want to refuse any help if it comes from a woman so refuse your wife’s help when she bears your son. Refuse help from mothers when they feed you her milk. I know you can’t refuse that. So please go on and kill me and with me kill the one chance our village got to flourish.’ shouted Ilaa.

‘Burn and die’, yelled a head of Panchayat and threw a fire torch at her. Ilaa started burning but did not resist.

At one instance there was an eerie silence, which was soon broken by women crossing the men, pushing them aside and putting out the fire on Ilaa using a blanket. Ilaa succumbed to the burns 2 days later.

GuruJi implemented the notes complied by Ilaa, and not only Sauviragram but all the neighbouring regions benefitted immensely from the book featuring Saumya’s findings and research on the Cotton Trade Knowledge and Taxes validation.

Slowly Sauviragram turned into a Cotton Export Hub and the generations prospered, the core of which remained the book compiled by Ilaa on teachings of Saumya.

In the current day you would find a shrine dedicated to Ilaa and Saumya which is of prime importance to the people of the region and is worshipped before every Cotton Export Fair.

The wall on the shrine reads

 ‘Here lay the remains of wife and husband, brave Ilaa and Saumya of Sauviragram’.

Celebrating Bapu's Birthday...

I celebrated Bapu Gandhi’s birthday in a manner he would not have approved of. Yet, I, shamelessly describe myself Gandhian. I raised my glass of a single Malt Scotch Whisky to wish his sprit life eternal and prayed: “Bapu, may our words and action be guided by you.” We know we have let you down many times; we sing Vaishanav Jan To Taimey kaheye Jo Peerh Paraye Jaaney Ray and Ishawar Allah Tere Naam. But, we do not hesitate to go for each other’s throats in disputes over temples and mosques.

Even we have named a township after you, GANDHINAGAR. The man elected from there led a march which ended by breaking down a Muslim place of worship. Gujarat, the state we honour because you were born there has as its head a man who connived at the killings of over a thousand Gujarati Muslims, forgetting that a Gujarati Muslim was your first client and took you to South Africa to fight his cases.

Even were there a growing number of bigots who believe that your preaching ahimsa - nonviolence – deprived us of material qualities and made us a weak nation. Consequently we call you the father of the nation, we are confused about your role in nation building. So all we do on your birth anniversary is take a chhuttee from work; go for picnic or zoo or a cinema without subscribing your motto: “Work is Worship”.

I persist in believing you were the prophet of our times and showed us the right path. We know more about you than we know about any of our prophets because their lives have been over laced with miracles imagined by their follower. You exposed yourself with absolute candor hiding nothing. You believed in Satya –truth- however embarrassing it was for you. So, though I do not share many of your values, I do my best to be truthful. I often fail but do not give up only because of the things I learnt from you, is to never give up. So raising a second toast to Bapu: “May your spirit continue to guide us till kingdom come”.

Written by- A common man on a common paper with a common pen on a common day.

Anand

The Entrepreneurship-I

"5 for balcony,5 for balcony....".
"I need 2 but you are quoting too much..."
"It's GUIDE sir.Dev Saahab, Wahida Rehman, SD Burman...It's already nominated for Aksar Awards"
"What did you say, which awards?"
"Ahhh Aksar Awards, it's an amrican award sir"
"Ok,Ok anyways tell me how much for 2?",the man asked drawing out his wallet.
"10 sir,it's a house full, you won't get a seat anywhere in town."
"I will pay 6", the man concluded.
"It's too low sir. I am sorry.", I rolled back the tickets in my sleeves.
"Ok forget it we will look for someone else", he turned back to the woman beside him, probably his wife who was sad already. She wanted him to pay 10 probably because Dev saahab looked better than any Indian at that time.
"This rat here speaks English, you scoundrel it's Oscars not Aksar...huh Aksar, get lost", they moved on screaming at me.
"Here Sir", they turned at once when I called them.
"6 it is", I pulled out the tickets, and he pulled out the coins from his wallet.
"6 it is? you see, I told you these rats here and there, they just overprice a movie.", he waved the tickets to his wife telling this.
"Sir you won't get them for 6 anywhere, anyways can you repeat the awards name once more, I didn't get it".
"It's OSCARS. O-S-C-A-R-S, got it", he repeated pointing fingers at me.
"Aus-Cars,Aus-Cars,Aus-Cars,Aus-Cars", I kept on repeating them as he left with his wife. I did sell them for 6 but I wasn’t overpricing earlier, I paid a price for being ignorant, it's a price for learning and nothing is more satisfying, when you earn a learning. I have paid many more prices before, even to come close to spelling Oscars...Aksars.

The Chase

"Tuntun run", screamed Raju The next moment we were running, chased after by some big boys and it was only a matter of time before we would have landed in their grasp.

"Catch them, don't lose them this time", shouted one of them.
I was running out of my breath. They were almost at my collars. He stretched out his arm and suddenly there was a left turn which was narrow enough for us to slip in. After getting out a new lease of life we ran with all what was left. We crossed the main road and they missed us in traffic.

"It was close", said Raju.
"He almost got hold of my collars...Ufff", I told with a sigh of relief.
"Like this rat...haa", and he was there. He caught both of us by our necks. We started to retaliate but after two slaps, we gave up. It was not the beating that we were worried about...it was the money they would snatch from us.

You could not trade in someone else’s place or area just like that. Elphistone cinema in Patna, Bihar was their area. Everyone wanted to trade there, as it was the place, people from upper class came and were ready to shell out those extra penny for movies. So you can understand the competition part.

With swollen faces and empty pockets we reached Agam Kuan. We used to visit this place whenever we felt low, and our attendance was quite regular at the place at least thrice a week or so.

“Did it hurt you much this time, Om?”, he gave me an annoying look.

“Watch your mouth, I told you not to call me…”

“Ok Ok Raju, I am sorry. Tell me are you hurt much?”, I asked him raising both my hands up to my ears.

The Introduction-I

[I am close to 10 years old and I share my name with the 1971 movie featuring Rajesh Khanna and Bachchan 'Anand'. No one knows or has ever cared to ask my name. . I was named ‘Tuntun’ after one of the famous comedians of the time. I used to mimic her quite often.
 There was a story behind Om's name too. He was named Om Prakash, after the famous supporting actor/comic actor of the time. He hated his name as much as he hated his parents. So he went a step further and changed his name to Raju after the super success of the recent hit Guide in which Dev Saab’s character shared the same name. Every time there was a blockbuster, he had a new name, some of the previous were Dev after Dev Saab’s character in Teen Deviyaan, Rakesh from Tere Ghar Ke Saamne, and Mohan from Dosti were the few I remember].

“Not much”, he replied.”Your face seems much swollen anyways” , he said pressing my face at various places.

“Tell me something about this place, why we feel so good coming here every time”, I inquired.

“There was a king who ruled this place once; people called him Ashoka ,the Great...They say this was the well where Ashoka threw ninety-nine of his elder brothers after killing them to obtain the throne of the Mauryan Empire.”, he said looking towards the well.

“Then why they refer hi to as Great…He was a murderer…”, I asked.

“A psycho may be, but they say his heart melted and later he took up Buddhism and did some great stuffs …” , he kept on adding until I interrupted him in middle.

“What is Buddhism, how did it change a man so cruel to a man he finally was?”

“Shut Up will you, please”, he yelled grasping his head with his hands.

“Ok Ok I just wanted to know, its fine, its fine”.

After being silent for a while we decided to return to our place.

“I am sleeping in my garage; I can’t go home with these marks or will be awarded with some more. What about you?” ,said Raju.

“Who cares, they never ask?”, we waved each other and walked towards our home.

I reached my home. Coming after 10 would mean no food so I was prepared. Drank enough water and went to my room. It was a small room about 8 by 10 just inside the boundaries of the house property but away from the building where others stayed.

The Introduction-II

I was one among the five children of my parents. Third from the top , third from the bottom. The sisters were younger than me Lata and Asha(named after the sisters with the golden voice) and they loved me like anything. My father used to run a hotel which earned quite well. I call it quite well as it was enough to feed a family of 9 (Both my elder brothers were married) and also take care of our education. I used to study.

The Dream

I loved English. I always had a dream to visit London. As I put this wish of mine one day before babuji, he smiled and patted me and asked me.                                                                   ”But how are you going to cope up, you don’t know English. If you learn English,I promise I will take you to London on one of those planes”. He sold me a dream and I readily bought it. He passed away last year and with him passed away my dream, but I didn’t give up on English.

The Entrepreneurship-II

It was hard for me to figure out how a hotel business which was sufficient enough to feed all of us suddenly turned out into a loss affair. Meanwhile every time there was a marriage in neighborhood, my sister in law’s jewelry were all flash along with matching sari which I saw was never repeated.

One day I was refused the school fees and sometime later I was told in order to earn my food I need to work in my own hotel. I remembered sitting on babuji’s lap behind the counter and making castles with the coins. I was handling castles of used plates by the customer’s now and cleaning tables at time, all this to feed myself thrice a day , that too in my own fucking hotel.

One day it came to my notice that the hotel was up for sale and my brother was relocating to some place called Tatanagar, he had landed himself some plum job in the steel factory there. He wanted to sell the hotel and take the money along with him. He always had a knack for money but he was my brother and I respected him almost like babuji. He was like 18 years elder to me. 

All this was going on when Johny Mera Naam released. Dev saab played Johny in the film,people as usual went crazy and Om Prakash aka Dev aka Mohan aka Raju , went on to you now what?

“When are we going to watch it Johny?”, I asked .

“You know how much are they paying for a ticket in Elphistone,12 can you believe, 12 for a ticket”, he smiled looking at the sky.

“I am in no mood to repeat the Guide stint, keep me out”, I said.

We went in silent mode for some time and then I asked.

“How much did you say 12 really, that is fucking too much.”, I was excited.

“Yes I bet even if we make 10 deals you know after our and Shyam’s cut we would be able to save at least…[contd.]”.

The Entrepreneurship-III

We made 20 each, that day. That was way too much without being caught. In few days I was on a train to Tatanagar. We went to a small area called Telco Colony. We were living in a quarter provided by company with two rooms and a common hall. With my brother and sister-in-law, settling in a room and two sisters settling in another, I had to stay in the hall. It was ok for me. My brother went to work and I did all the housework. I missed Om a lot.

My brother rented a shop in the local market . It was a paan shop. We all went for the puja and after the prayers it was opened. A guy named Sharma ran the shop and split the profits with my brother. Few days later the profit started to deplete and my brother’s frustration inflated. Soon Sharma was kicked out and search for new Sharma started which ended on me.

I used to wake up at 5 open the shop at 6 , return for lunch at 1 and go back to the shop at 4 only to return at 10.This happened back and forth. I heard people talking about a movie where Hema ji has walked on shattered glass pieces with naked legs. Next day after lunch instead of going back to my shop I went to Natraj to watch Sholay. It was not very difficult for me to remember OmPrakash would be Jai now or may be Veeru.

The Wardrobe

Meanwhile I was an adult now . One day I was informed that I need to stay back in shop and need not come over for lunch. The lunch would be brought up to me by my sisters. I knew I was being cut off from the family and with all due respect, it was not my brother but my sister-in-law. She thought it was hard for them to live in a house after she had two babies, a boy and a girl.

Next year when the third one was about to arrive I already knew what I would be asked for. It happened exactly as I thought.

“You need to move to your shop and stay there. Its not that we are asking you to leave but still, you are a young boy, its your time to prove to the world. Work harder”, I turned back and began to leave.

“Take your things”, called my brother.

“I have nothing to take. I don’t have anything”, I smiled and left.

“And one more thing…”, this time it was my sister-in-law. “Try to eat in a hotel instead, I won’t be able to send Tiffin through the girl,as they are grown enough and its not proper to let them go that far alone”.

I came back to them, touched their feet for the blessings and left. It was a Sunday afternoon, a pleasant one at least for most of the people.

I really had nothing. Two Shirts, a pant to wear on special occasions and two sarongs, it was my wardrobe.

The Cover Up

“Some guests will be expecting you tomorrow, so come to house tonight. Sleep there”, he said.

“Here buy some new clothes”, he said pulling out a 50 note.

“Is it necessary?”, I answered.

“Yes of course. If I have come this far to meet you it means it is important”.

“I have money. Don’t need them, thank you for asking anyways”.

Next day I was at the house. The guests arrived and I was introduced.

“He is Anand, my younger brother. He is a Supervisor in the steel plant. He is a Graduate”, my brother said.

I was not surprised but shocked. I got what was going on. They were here to marry me. I talked to my brother in the other room and he asked me to remain quiet.

In a few months’ time I was in Bihar again and only one evening I got to know it was my wedding tomorrow. I even tried to run but was caught and was made to swear for all my brother did for me.

I went to my marriage. Yes I went to my own marriage. I was not able to see her face, but was very nervous. After the ceremonies, when we two were alone. I started with an obvious question.

“What’s your name?”, I asked her.

“Anita”, she said and looked at me for the first time.

”Educated?”, I asked.

“I am a graduate”, promptly she replied.

“Is it before matriculation or after that”, I asked.

“They said you were a graduate too. You are joking right”, she was amused.

“Look I need put few things before you. I am hardly a fourth grade pass. I am not a supervisor. I am a paan shop owner, but make more than the supervisor.”

She stood up and I could see tears rolling down her face.

“I only got to know yesterday that it was my wedding .I am outside just let me know in the morning what you decided. Your decision is the most important. You are free to leave me if you like”

“Just leave me alone”, she said looking angrily at the ground.
I began to move out to the common room outside the bedroom which was decorated for our first night with flowers all over. I turned back at the door towards her and said.

“I just wanted you to know one thing. I am not an educated man. I am not even half as good looking as you are but you know I have already prayed to God whenever I had a wife, please make her name start with ‘A’ ”, I moved out telling this.

Next morning I was ready to leave. Her father instructed her to make my arrangements to leave. I looked at her. She came and placed a packed suitcase beside me.

“That’s not my bag. You made a mistake”, I said.

“That’s mine.I am not going to pack yours.You need to do it yourself”, she said. I smiled and entered and quickly packed my suitcase. We were ready to leave.

                                                                                                                                                                [To be continued…]        

The prayers and the pinch...

Slowly it turned into night with a dim moon. 1935 hrs was what my digital watch displayed. I have been sitting here for around 12 hours now with my gun, my sandwich and with all the pain.

The silence of Drass was penetrated every time the heavy guns roared. There was not a single movement seen on the streets. July 2^nd India and Pakistan were at war over Kargil.

The only means of communication was through the rattling of bullets. The longer we asked the questions, the longer the answers we received.

I was on a rooftop probably a school, and at the elevation, I could easily see the bunkers through the periscope. It was the advantage of height they had, and thus were targeting us easily.

I was desperate may be because I was hungry, my eyes were pulling down. I had tried eating my sandwich but time and again someone from the other end answered,without even me asking the questions. I slowly pulled out the sandwich and took a bite. I started biting it from every possible side and making various shapes out of it, finished it in 4-5 bites.

I suddenly had an urge to smoke. I wanted it badly. It was dangerous. The flash might be seen in the darkness, and there were enemies watching, but I decided to take the risk.

I had a hand rolled cigarette, held it with my lips, I rolled my fingers over the lighter. I saw the cigarette meeting the flame and almost immediately came an answer. It hit the wall on which I was resting. I lied down parallel to the roof and checked the wall. It was alright until my fingers came through a hole. I knew something was wrong. The bullet had made it to the other side. I could feel the warmth of the blood oozing out.

I was hit in the spines and as I tried to get up, another one passed through my shoulder and I fell flat on the roof. Laying there I waited for my end. I prayed with a belief. A belief that I have always regarded my country as my mother, so she must also be praying to save her son. Slowly after half an hour or so, I started falling drowsy.

The next when I opened my eyes, they were illuminated with light. I was confused as I was alright, completely alright. There wasn’t a hint of pain. I checked, I wasn’t even in the same outfit. I was wearing a one piece cloth,something like a white gown. I felt something around my head covering it, sort of a crown.

I knew I wasn’t alive, this cannot be real. It had to be the afterlife. I felt bad and started feeling completely hollow. I was away from my family members and I knew there was no returning back. With all the thoughts in my mind, I finally broke down and started crying.

Just as I started crying I heard a voice.

“You are crying here, are you sure?”, the voice was loud, clear and bold.

I turned towards the voice and saw a man not old not young, in his early fifties, a vibrant face with a fixed smile and a prominent cut mark on his chin quite fit staring at me. I knew it had to be him, the one, and the almighty. I bent down and held his feet and kept holding it with my eyes closed.

“Are we going to talk like this, by the way what are you doing?”, he looked amused.

“I know you are God”, I said with my eyebrows raised.

”And what made you think so, about me being God?”, he asked.

“I know, you see you are in completely white clothes. It can’t be a mistake. You are the one”, I joined my hands and said.

“From which country are you?”

“India”

“Ohhh…India, so I think you have a lot of ‘me’ sitting in your parliament. I mean most of them are dressed in complete white”, he said.

“Aaahhh… you are actually…”, I scratched my head over this one.

“So who are you? What are you doing here? What is the place and what…”, I was interrupted in between.

“Now you are doing the right thing, I am here to answer questions. Ask me if you have any. Do not hesitate.”, he replied.

“What is this place and how am I here, I don’t remember anything after I got shot”, I asked hurriedly.

“Tell me something, what do you think happened to you?”, he asked me.

“I think I am dead. This is my after life and at present...I am in heaven.”

“It seems you know much than me. I think you last breathed... some 90 seconds back”, he told having a look at his watch.”And anything will seem a heaven when you compare it to the current condition of the place you live in.”, he chuckled.

“You see my mother told me a story when I was a child… ”, I interrupted in between with my query, “I am the only son of my parents, my father died when I was 4.My mother took all the pain and raised me. Now it was my turn, to serve and look after her. Instead I left one mother for the service of another. I joined army, because this was what my father did... and even his father did. They say it is in my genes. You know what genes are…?”,I asked him.

“Yes of course, I mean I have heard about them, some helical structured objects, we can only get to know the thing in detail once James and Frank are here. They still have their time left.”

I was confused with the answer but stuck to my question and continued”…and now I stand here away...from both my country and my mother. My life is a complete failure then. I could neither serve my mother nor my country. You know what my last wish was ‘I have always regarded my country ……’”

“Yes I know, I have always regarded my country as my mother, so she must also be praying to save her son, I heard it."

“Still I am here; it means she didn’t pray for me.”, I asked folding my arms.

“Let me tell you something... As far as the definition goes, A mother is the greatest creation of nature. We can take nothing away from her. It is our duty to meet their prayers and demands before anything else...as they seldom ask anything for themselves. You know a mother is a mother; 'she is not even a woman once she is a mother'. So never again question the faithfulness of a mother”, he said convincingly.

“Ok I am sorry, then tell me if everything was right, why am I here? ”, I was sounding desperate.

“You see the man who deposited two iron pieces in your body had also been hurt badly by your bullet, and his mother was also praying continuously from the time he got wounded.”, he said.

“But they are infiltrators, terrorists; it is our land where they have their bunkers. I am not wrong. I am absolutely right. You are being partial. I was doing what I was supposed to do. I was serving my country.”,  I asked.

“And he was serving his, he was carrying out his commands from the superiors, both in the nation’s interests.”, he replied.

“But you know they are wrong, I am right.” I tried hard to justify my point.

“Tell me one thing; who decides your fate and tells you what is right and what is wrong,the group of people sitting in the cabinet do...the procedure is same on the other side. And I am not interested in supporting the views of the bachelor, poet who heads your country or his counterpart, the man who publicly appears with arms and heads the other side.”

“I will tell you a story about a case, the best part is, it’s from your country. You want to hear it.”, he asked.

“Do I have a choice?” , I asked raising my hands sideways.

“No, I don’t think so.”, he answered.

“You know we have a lady who headed your country once. And after her demise it was her son who filled in her shoes. It was not possible for anyone to actually replace her but the most obvious choice was her son. She loved him very much and always wanted him to stay out of the trade. He was too innocent for the post and not as strong as her.”

“Ok I got it, you are talking about Mrs…..”,I spoke in excitement.

“You know the name, even I do. Let us keep it to ourselves. ”, he said hurriedly and I decided to retreat.

He continued. “Every single day after she came here, she spoke to me , she was only worried about her son. She was concerned about his health. The dangers he was in. She was well aware of the troubles he might land himself in by listening to others. I asked her about his friends down there who could have supported him. After a long thought she spoke about one of his friends. She described him as the biggest phenomenon the nation has ever seen.”

“Of course the whole nation is the admirer of Mr….”

“Let us keep it between”, he said.

”…ourselves”, I replied with my thumbs up.

“The problem was...she was not confident about him too. She knew even he won’t be able to support him...due to his own problems, when he will need him the most. She was not ready to see any remorse in his son’s eyes. He was unaware of many things which were shortly about to follow. She worried a lot about him and almost cried every time she showed up.”

“So what did you do?”, I was into the story completely.

“I asked her, what do you want me to do for him. She said she just wanted to hug him tight and tell him everything will be alright. she told whenever he was in trouble, how he would come to her, keep his heads in her laps...tell her that he felt the safest here, she would pat him and he would sleep. She said she wanted to tap his head. Telling this she got up and began to move. Just before leaving she turned back and told, he has not slept properly for ages now it seems. I could clearly see tears rolling down her cheeks. She was not happy. I tried to tell her that even she did not know what she demanded and would later repent it, but her motive was very clear. We kept it.”

“I was in a great fix. All of a sudden we received another prayer from a mother who as been praying continuously. We had to verify why was she praying, what was her motive. It was related to her daughter and we were shocked when we learnt her motive. She was praying for her daughter’s death.”

“I don’t understand. This is a bit unusual. ”, I was surprised.

“A bit…let me tell you the whole part. Her daughter joined a terror outfit about which she come to know only a few days earlier. When she tried to stop her, she found out that she had already stepped out on her mission.”

“What was the mission?”, I asked.

“To assassinate the person who was leading your nation. You get the connection now. The lady has always admired the leader, but somehow could not convince her daughter to do the same. The terror group her daughter joined, convinced her to convert herself into a human bomb and she was on her way to end the life of the most loved leader of your nation.  ”

“Her mother constantly wanted her daughter to die, as she had a family after her, and she feared her involvement would only bring her family shame. In addition to this there would be many persons who would simply dye without any cause. Her prayer was noble and the motive unquestioned, one of the best we received. We let both the mother’s wish go through. There was an explosion. The place was such that least number of persons got injured.  ”

“What happened to the lady, did she come back to you the next evening?”, I asked curiously.

“No she did not, I went on to look after her and finally spotted her near the spring, with a man resting in her laps peacefully, and she was tapping his head. I understood he was here and she had no more reasons to come back to me.”

“Now I think your case is a bit similar to this. I received prayers from your mother as well. You would be surprised to know what she has demanded...she would only eat after she had heard from you. I feel it was a bit unfair on your part. For that person to live, it was not necessary for you to die...there could have been other measures as well...Also I feel you need to take care of your mother. She is alone and lonely and no one to take care of her. So son you are also wearing white. Just like me and when I was a kid we used to do ‘Same Pinch’”, he smiled.

“Yes , But I don’t understand…eeeeeeeee”, I almost screamed as he pinched me in my arms.

“It hurts boss…ohh”, and he did it again.

“I will pinch you once more son, take care.”, he pinched me for a third time.

And as I opened my eyes, I saw my face illuminated with light. I tried to restrict the light by covering my eyes with my hands, the light was switched off and I turned to my left, to see the windowpane. The reflection was clear. It was a hospital. I saw my reflection and looked the white gown I was wearing...I then quickly touched my head...I felt the skull cap they use for covering the head during operations, probably my crown.  I quickly realized the similarity.

I started asking the nurse. What happened to me, how long I have been here and she didn’t respond to any of the questions but instead directed me towards another man. A man not old not young, in his early fifties, a vibrant face with a fixed smile and a prominent cut mark on his chin , quite fit staring at me.

“I am here to answer….”

“…all my questions. I know”, I interrupted him in between.

“Oh Yes, exactly. You know we just had a miracle in your case. We had lost all hopes of getting you back. You were almost dead for five minutes. And then as a last measure we pumped this life saving drug in your body, not once but thrice through injections.”, I smiled.

“Can I make a call, my mother would not have not ate anything.”, I asked him.

“Use my phone.” , telling this he punched the digits as I directed.

“There’s the ring.”, he handed over the phone to me.

“Hello, Maa.”

“Beta, how are you and where are you. You don’t know how relieved I am to hear you.”

“But I am not, why have you not eaten.”

“How do you know this….”, she was surprised.

“Cook , my favorite stuffed tomato, I am coming back , we will have tomorrow’s dinner together.”

“Sure, I am dying to see you.”

“And Maa I love you.”, I hung up telling this and handed over the phone to the doctor. He turned back and started moving out.

“Doctor, will you please come here,”, I called him.

“Thank you and same pinch”, I pinched him in his arms. He smiled and left.

 [ I would like to expressly convey to you (the reader) that were I to accidentally defame, purge, humiliate and or hurt someone's person or feelings as a result of them reading and or acting upon any or all of the information and or advice found here at my blog, it is entirely unintentional of me to do so.This blog is a result of a creative thinking and nothing to do with  reality and is a comlete work of fiction...I repeat a complete work of fiction and it's only related to a perception.I believe in my country and thoroughly respect the leaders,who parted their lives to strengthen our democracy.]

Untouchable in day

I remember that was an extremely hot and humid period, temperature almost soaring to 45 and to add more substance the humidity level was 96 that day in Kolkata may be it was then when the almighty thought enough was enough and suddenly out of nowhere the clouds went overcast.

We looked up at the sky smiled and felt the cool breeze. There wasn't a single human complaining...everybody wanted this.

I was at home and it was around 9 when it started. I am always mesmerized by rain fall. I get lost in the sound and sight of the heavens washing away the dirt and dust of the world. Memories of running, splashing so carefree as a child come pouring in as a welcome reprieve from the worries of my day.

The rain pattered and the wind rapped against all the windows in the entire area as long as my eyes swept. Although it was a chilly, dreary day, something pleasant could be felt in the air. The clouds shrouded the sky with an eerie, ominous blanket.

From my bedroom window, a couple could be seen walking against the unnerving storm. They were laughing and awfully cheerful, despite their umbrella had blown away, and their clothes were being soaked. Judging by how they had dressed, they were undoubtedly coming back from a restaurant, or some other occasion. Their faces were too far away to be closely described, yet their smiles could be seen from miles. The man had his arm around her; the rain was dripping down both of them.

I stretched out beneath my blanket, trying to catch some memories of childhood. I heard the rain hit the roof and drops hit my through the window. There wasn't enough money around to get actual glass, so we used plastic, but sometimes it came undone from the wind, today was no exception. I got up and pulled the plastic off entirely. I looked out, as rain hit my face, making me blink and turn away for only a moment. I always had loved rain... it meant father would stay inside and read to us or talk to us about his days and we were ever interested to hear him.

With all the thoughts in my mind I thought to step out as the rain slowly stopped it was around 11 if I could remember. The weather was amazing. There was a change the leaves looked much greener .I went to the foot bridge over one of the most busiest roads in the city. It was quiet almost no traffic and the lights were dull.I sat down at the steps when I saw a slim figure approaching me from the other side of the road,carrying a backpack, dressed casually walking on the steps she looked like a college girl, the only thing which did not permitted me of thinking that was the time.

I saw her going past me. She restlessly went to and fro on the foot bridge. It was not usual for a girl to be there this late at the first place. I was thinking the possible reasons of her being there and finally decided to speak her and as I approached her before even I could have uttered a word she said,"1500 bucks for the night. Please don't bargain.".

I compared my thoughts about her and the reality and then I could only smile nodding my head down.

"No Thanks",I replied.

"Ok come on now a 1000 is fine.",she told with her eyebrows raised.

"No,I said no", I replied immediately.

"800 Ok lets go.Which area?", she was desperate this time.

"I already said you no. Why don't you understand?", I almost lost it this time on her.

"You want it for free now, isn't it...first of all the weather and then customers like you...just".

"Excuse me, did I ask you anything, why you calling me a customer"...I cut her in the middle and spoke out.

"Then what are you doing at this time on the bridge...wait a minute are you just like me?",curiously she asked.

"Oh Please shut up will you.Just leave me alone.",i went down to the steps and sat there.

After some time she came and sat on the same step as far from me as she could. I saw her and started  to leave the place.

"I am not going to eat you...and please don't behave like a doodh ka dhula person.You would already had thought of nailing me when you first saw me. The only fact which stops you from doing so is the fact that I am a call girl. I tell you all the men are same. Nobody wants to pay.", she finished taking out all her frustration.

"You know everything don't you.",I replied with an annoying look and clapped.She looked away from me.

After a few moments of silence she searched something inside her bag,I tried not to look but couldn't help and looked through curiously and finally the activity stopped and her hands came out of the bag with a Classic Milds pack of 20 in one and a lighter in another.

I smiled as she took one out and lighted this. It was my brand. I looked at her with a tempting look and then she fired back.

"What now, here's have one now come on don't tell me that you don’t smoke...".I was more than happy to take one from the pack and light it. I thought may be I should have been a bit polite.

"So where you are from?", I enquired.

"Dohrighat, its a small village in UP you wouldn't have heard.",she replied.

"And how come you are in pro...I mean..."

"Prostitution" she intervened with a loud,clear and instant word.It was surprising how easily she uttered it.

"Yes ,whatever",I agreed.

"Forget it that's a long one...What do you do...where do you work or are you a student?".

"I work as Programmer in...".

"Wait, I see a potential customer coming.I can't waste the whole night chatting with you.",she told me looking at the person coming over the bridge.I saw her at some distance talking with the man.The man replying and then moving forward and she following him to some distance and then she gave up.

"Mothe******r you want me for 500 go and f*** your mother at home she is up for free.",she yelled.

The person came back to her throwing all his stuff and slapped her as hard as he could and then grabbed her by neck.I immediately rushed to the scene and removed her from his grip.

"Take it easy man,it's ok. You may leave".,I said him covering her.

"I'll kill you bitch...It will just take a push from this bridge and you will be gone...Bloody slut.", he approached her shouting. I came in between and asked him to leave.

I took him by his arm and gave his belongings telling him to leave. Finally he left. I turned back to see her sitting at the steps smoking another piece. I went and sat beside her.

"Are you alright?", I enquired.

"Ya don't worry it's usual." she answered taking a deep puff and pushed the packet and lighter towards me.

"I think you should have probably chosen better words.",I said politely lighting my stick.

"Please now don't teach me manners. I have enough of them.", she said annoyingly.

"Ok Ok fine.",I raised both my hands and then we were silent for some more time. A chai wallah appeared passing with a kettle in his hands and cups in his bucket.

"Simmy,what happened no customer's tonight?",asked the chai wallah and poured a cup for her looking towards me.

She looked at him and asked her to give me a cup as well.I reached out to my wallet to pay but he refused.

"It's monthly account Sir.",he left picking his bucket.

"So your name is Simmy,Is that your real name?"

She finally broke her silence after a few puffs.

"My name is Jyoti.Jyoti means light that's what baba told me."

"Ok so tell me how did you come here? What happened?", I carefully asked the question. As she was sitting at the ends water droplets tricked through the shed of the foot bridge over her and she moved a bit towards her left and then started.

"I am an intermediate.It was the maximum my parents could have paid for.My father is a farmer.There was an advertisement in a paper about a job interview.There was a telephonic interview and then they told me I had come down to the city for the final round."

The water trickled from the other end and it was my turn this time to move a bit right.

"My father arranged me some money to stay here and take the interview.My mother gave me some extra from her savings.They had a hope that I would earn some good money here which would support my 2 sisters for their further studies."

We saw another person walking up the bridge.He came up and asked her "How much?".I looked towards her and she smiled for the first time."I am busy",she replied and moved a bit closer to me making way for him to move up.

"Can you light another one please?"

I quickly pulled out one,did light it and raised it towards her.She had a long puff.I quickly repeated the same for me.

She continued."I gave the interview and was asked to stay at a place provided by the company.Two of the officials one of whom was named Prasad turned up at night and asked me to follow them and you know what they did.I was pushed into this then and there."

"You know I was sold to a man in his 40's at 15000 for the night.They said a virgin fetched more.I was given 10000 after my first night.I did send all the money to my parents.It was sufficient for them If I would have earned at the same pace.I accepted it as it was the only left path after that night." She talked about everything, about life and dreams and her home situations.

"Three days later I was sold to another man for 15000 again I had to act like a virgin this time and then it continued."She spoke about how she was hesitant in the beginning, but Prasad advised her that many girls have sex before marriage. Also after girls sell their “first time” they can pretend to be virgins to make more money.

“I wanted to make more money so I agreed.”,she said lighting another one this was our fifth straight.Every time Jyoti slept with someone she got 30% and he would keep 70%. “Customers” were to be introduced by the broker Prasad; she only needed to go to the designated locations.She earned much initially.Later Prasad asked her to just go the locations and he would settle her share at the end of the month.

“Ever since then, I had to see 2 to 3 customers everyday each time the price was anywhere from 5,000 to 10,000 per night” Jyoti said every time the customer was introduced by Prasad, she would go to the designated hotel and have sex with the stranger. Every time she gave all the money to Prasad, but Prasad never split the profit with her.

Jyoti recalled how she pretended to be a virgin every time. “Price was very high for virgins.” Prasad and this other guy would go the market and buy a duck, pigeon or other small animals. They killed the animal and collected the blood. When there was a customer, after negotiating the price, they would make her bring a piece of sponge soaked with blood and go to the designated hotels.

Every time before she had sex, she would put the piece of sponge soaked with blood in her, afterwards, if “customer” saw blood, they would think she was a virgin and gave substantial amount of money.

“It was very disgusting. In the beginning I could not even eat. I always feel the animal’s blood was still in me.” Jyoti said, but because she needed to make money she still did it. And just like that, she pretended to be a virgin sold her body for 6 month.

“In order to pretend to be a virgin, every time I had unprotected sex” Jyoti said, she was always worried about catching sexual diseases. But for the money she could not refuse “customer’s” demands.

We could hear the bird's chirping.It was around 3:30 and the chai wallah returned.He poured another cup for us and left.

"This is it.",she smiled and looked at me.

"And what happen with Prasad and the money they owe you",I asked her.

"They never parted with it.I asked them once and got beaten up regularly.So I fled the area and changed my name.Don't know how long I would be able to?",She said sipping from her cup.

"Why don't you go to police. I mean they could help."

"And what would happen next. Let’s say they will help me with Prasad and what after that I am earning good for my family. Both my sisters are pursuing MBBS from Delhi.My parents think I work in an MNC.I don't want their dreams to shatter."

She continued "You see people love me at night and I suddenly turn untouchable in day.People fire weird remarks at me when I pass so I avoid getting out at daytime so better it's time for me to get some sleep.You may leave as well."

She collected her stuff and got up to leave and watched her descending the steps.

"Jyoti",I called her.She stopped and turned behind.I moved towards her and raised my hand.

"It was nice meeting you."

"Hey I forgot to ask what's your name?",she asked.

"Kabir...I am Kabir." shaking hands with her. She smiled and had a final look at the touch.

“I wished we would have met in other situations. ” , I said still holding her hands.

We walked in opposite directions.

“Kabir” she shouted and I turned back “Thanks” she said kissing her palms which I touched  .

Kabir...

My omega seamaster 3110 beeped as I looked on. It was 3:00 a.m.

My eyes were hurting, my body needed rest and most of all my mind needed to forget everything.

I pressed my eyes harder in order to get some sleep. As I closed my eyes I tried to recollect memories the changing of the guards at Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, St Paul’s Cathedral, the trip to The Alps and of course Jane my wife and our last conversation.

I was packing my last bag which contained all the required documents.

"Please Sean”, Jane said in a sad tone.

"It's alright we have discussed this”, I replied turning to her.

"You are doing absolutely fine here, we don't need that extra package, forget it Sean, we are just fine"

"It's not about the money Jane" "you know me, it’s once in a lifetime opportunity, they are sending the best guy available at THE TIMES for this assignment and that's me, you should be proud of me”, I assured her.

"I am proud of you but please that place is not safe, I have read about it”, she instantaneously answered.

"Don't worry the local authority will be at full help plus the police support will be 24 hours."

"Why can't you just listen to me" she broke into tears "Is your assignment more important than me, please don't Sean please”, she hugged me and started sobbing.

I cupped her face in my palms.

"I have to go Jane it's important, I have committed" "And I want you to prepare a long vacation list so that when I come back, we immediately fly to places with you like this”, saying this I lifted her in my arms and swung her. She smiled at last and I left.



My watch beeped again. It was 4:00a.m.

I touched the semicircular roof over my head as if touching her face.

I raised my head to notice it was still raining by the sound of gushing water but nothing was visible as it was dark outside.



"Get some more sleep, it’s impossible to move in these conditions”, said Comrade K adding some twigs to the fire with one hand while resting his other on AK-56.



It was hard to believe I was lying down in this hollow cemented pipe about 4 feet in diameter in a forest somewhere in Jharkhand for about 40 hours now and that too with a naxalite sitting next to me. why didn't I listened to Jane was the only question in my mind.



By every passing minute I was getting weak not only physically but mentally. In order to divert my mind I started thinking something else. I closely looked at Comrade K.There were some strange things about this man. He didn't spoke much. He never walked, ate or behaved like others in his team. In fact this was the first time he spoke to me but the most surprising thing was his name Comrade'K' just 'K'.



There were twists in my stomach due to hunger and now even water was limited around 300 ml. I crawled to the other end and tried to sneak out my head from the outlet of the pipe, came back wore my shoes and decided to go out in search of some food.



"That's not a good idea.”, said Comrade K.

I turned back to look. He was still in the same position adding twigs to the fire.

"I don't need suggestions”, I hurled back at him.

"These conditions are ideal for snakes.”, he always spoke in the same pitch.

"I said I didn't need suggestions”, I almost shouted at him.

"Yes you don't need suggestions you are intelligent people from intelligent countries”, for the first time he uttered the words in a sarcastic tone.



"Yes we are, and not like you’ll. You people exploit your country, exploit the villagers, abduct a journalist who came all this way leaving behind his family to do some good to your people and you talk about country, it doesn't suits you.”, I was not finished yet.

"And you…you don't even have a name, may be your parents were in hurry...huh buddy”, at this last line he gave me a stare, the fire reflected on his face and his eyes were clearly burning.

"Enough! Shut your mouth and sleep”, he said grinding his teeth.

"Why just because you have a gun, I should shut my mouth. I do not deserve this place, I do not deserve these conditions and I do not deserve an ignorant, lowbrow like you...Do you think I deserve this life?",I shouted on his face.



"I am not sure about yours but I don’t deserve this life", he yelled back at me.

"I wasn't born with this thing”, raised the AK-56.

"I am not an ignorant I am a qualified person probably more than you and I…I never exploited anyone, just let the rain get over and then Get Lost”, I was shocked whom I was talking to and with infinite questions in my mind I turned away from him.

"Just remember one thing never ever talk about my parents again”, he said pointing his index finger towards me and gently shook his head.

"And the name is Kabir."

My Favourite Day

From the time I left college I saw people posting some pretty usual posts on fb “Hey I got my first salary”,”My first day at office”,”My second day at office”,”My third day at office” some surprising ones were “Look at my professional look and others which don’t even qualify for the list”
I never thought of posting any such thing as I didn’t noticed any difference because I loved writing codes this was all I wanted to do until today I didn’t knew what I was missing…
Until today when I was going through ways and roads and passed through people there were many of them,a girl  staring at me with probably all the colors available in the market on her face and when she smiled even her teeth were wearing some sort of a pink colour…A mid aged man probably in his 50′s hurling water balloons at me which I survived some how…Kids runnin after each other to paint their already painted faces…and a lot of people just simply meeting and moving on the streets…for some reason they were happy extremely happy…
And then I came across a college hundred of students were playing colors,dancing in the water showered upon them from the top,they were ecstatic,they were enjoying and then I realised I was there a year back,As my auto passed across them I could easily see somewhere in the crowd there was akhil,asif,ashish,ranu,avinash,abhi(I am sorry if I missed anyone’s name) all of them looking at me and smiling and suddenly they started chasing a boy caught him and painted him and then the boy turned back looking at me and asking me to join him…It was me…
I reached office,picked up the newspaper,the coffee machine served cappuccino at a click with all sorts of sound and suddnely I wished the place could be same…and as I walked through the bay to my seat I thought my destiny bought me a seat,an opprtunity in one of the biggest software exporters of the world…I will be ever obliged to GOD for the same…But what it took in return was huge,a chunk out of my life and till today I didn’t even know what I had left back…
So I have already worked over three months and drawn a handsome salary(thrice:-) ) from the company…Today I feel it was my first day at office…Happy Holi to all of you…