Ek Chidiya.

Recently I watched this song on YouTube, again and again. I felt very happy and satisfied. Maybe I enjoyed it more at this age rather than when I was a child. Maybe it is not meant for children at all. Maybe the message it conveys, which is still very relevant, is for the elders. I never thought that this old song could be so new to me. I played it again and again and since I had learnt the lesson, all I wanted was to be a child again.

But after some time I was in pain. Although for no apparent reason, I felt terrible. I wondered how can that same child who knew nothing about anything become so mean, selfish, cynical, self-centered, and at the same time such a fuck-up. How can society even allow this type of processing and packaging? I felt as if those Moral Education lessons which were dined into me until class 8th were in tatters and I flushed them time and again without even realizing it. What about those stories In English and Hindi subjects which always had some meanings and lessons to take home? I now realize they only floated in my mind but never settled in my heart. I could score good marks in those subjects but what about those marks now! I am failing miserably and I want to redo my entire course. And there are ‘practical’ people out there who would tell you “Don’t worry about such petty things; this is your life, live it as you want”. I call those people double standards people. They know what is wrong and what is not, but they don’t want to accept it.

Sometimes you find people who can see through you, even if you inadvertently want to blind them with your fake appearance and mundane demeanors. They give you subtle but sufficient hints to do some introspection and by introspection I don’t mean filling a questionnaire when you have nothing to do, I mean doing it all the time, every time, each single breath. I felt the same watching this video, as if this song knew me completely.

So when I was done watching this video, I was silent for the longest period of time and I was busy reminiscing about good old days. I tried to recall everything I could. For three hours I was lost in reveries alone, I chuckled alone, I cried alone, I thought alone, and then I slept (alone?). What came to me as a cool breeze in a cold, dark and dry night, left with sunshine and dew in my eyes.

My Story

This is not a story of courage or passion or endless love; it is merely a description of the things which happened to me during my stay at IIT Roorkee. I did ‘something’ inexplicable under insane innocence. I don’t want to classify those feelings or emotions,under the influence of which I acted. They were so pure to be polluted, so beautiful to be defaced. But categorizing everything is a human tendency after all. Society always gives a name to everything and then demeans it.

I have had three crushes in my life and the last one was a girl whom I saw in second semester of my stay at Roorkee and it was the strongest and the most permanent crush, for some time. It was a fine evening, clear and bright and it was the last day of THOMSO-05. For my friends, THOMSO (IIT Roorkee’s Cultural Festival) meant dancing like crazy on dance floor and it was same for me as well. There, just right there in the middle of the dance floor there was a girl, sipping a coffee. When the world was dancing, she was not. When I looked at her, there was a girl beside her, and that is when I thought “Teen Tigaada Kaam Bigada”. So, beside that girl with a coffee, stood my third crush. I was never so stunned; it was as if the earth stood still for a few seconds. I went forward without knowing what to do. I approached her and as always I faltered at the last step and started talking to the girl with a coffee instead. When she seemed helping I inquired casually about name and college of the girl beside her. I declared about my crush to my three friends; a soon-to-be bald guy, a thin one and a smart ass. I asked them what to do now. They were unanimous and they said they had a plan.

The plan was simple and pathetic, simply pathetic (of course I realized it later). As a volunteer for Security, we had a duty to streamline the flow of people and also to check the entry passes for main events. The last day’s main event was Exhilaration. The smart ass was a poly-man (one who uses politics in everything). So, smart ass arranged our duty at girl’s entry gates. According to the plan, I would be given the ‘chance’ to stand at entry gates and when that girl comes, I could talk to her. It was like ‘a date, at an entry gate’. The thin guy was very excited since he had, yet another, crush on the thin girl. Soon-to-be-bald guy was happy as well but because of unknown reasons. The smart ass had always been a happy man. What a good plan, I must have thought and so everything went according to the plan except the fact that the girl didn’t come to see our main event. More than insult to our Cultural Festival THOMSO, it was a deadly blow to the plan. I waited at the entry gate for the whole event. Dutiful Divjot Singh. I was sad and I had never been so sad. I told my friends about this and asked for their suggestions or opinions. Smart ass confidently said, scratching his back “It will be alright. It is just a temporary hangover.” The thin man looked serious and said “Let’s watch DDLJ”. The soon-to-be bald guy was confused and anxious and so he inquired “Tomorrow we have Dharmendra Singh’s tutorial, right?”

Then we went to Bus-Tea (a hangout near Roorkee Bus-Stand) for a party thrown away to us by our seniors. In the meantime I called the tall girl who was in her hostel. Since the I knew about the college of my third cush, I inquired the tall girl about the whereabouts of the team from that college. She told me that they had left for their college in the evening itself, just before the main event started. The tall girl was concerned and asked “what happened?” “Nothing. That’s the whole point”, I replied. I learnt the lesson harder way: “Thou shalt execute first, and plan later”

The tall girl and the thin girl tried to help me by making a hoax call to the college of my third crush and somehow they managed an e-mail id. I still wonder, “How did they do it?” Whenever I emailed to that id, it would rebound back but I tried. The mail would be a blank mail with just a ‘HI’ in it. I didn’t know what to write. I didn’t know what I wanted. Things went like this with stupider methods and ways but I didn’t give up.

Anyways, after a few months, the third semester begun and on a Friday evening I decided to go to the college of my third crush. I called the thin guy and asked if he would go. He was very enthusiastic and asked “When is the train?” “8’O’Clock”, I said. “So let’s go”, he yelled.

We rushed to the station, bought two tickets and waited impatiently. We boarded. As soon as we entered, we knew it would be a tough journey. I felt a need of an oxygen cylinder. The coach was filled with the smell of cow dung. “Either there is some huge pile of cow dung or a cow”, I guessed. “I guess both”, the thin man said. After a few minutes, we found one seat. It was a large seat and it was just at the entrance, near the door. We sat on the floor with our feet on the steps of the coach. It was comfortable and I could see beneath my feet, time was moving fast, may be too fast for me. After an hour or so, there was a half empty berth. Opposite to that half empty berth, a big ass man was sleeping on another berth. The thin man saw an opportunity there, since the thin man had minimal dimensions, he sneaked into the empty space formed between that big ass man’s relatively smaller legs and the compartment wall. I occupied the half empty berth. At 4:00 in the morning we arrived at the station.

We were tired and our clothes were stinking. “I have never felt an urge to bath. Never. Not even in winters, when I skip this mere wastage of water for six days. Not even in those days. Man, I want to bath”, thin man said. He was serious when he said this. “Six days?” I asked. “I mean it is O.K to skip three-four days. It is acceptable but six days is some figure”, I explained with a Better than thou approach. We searched for a bathroom and we found a majestic one. A wall with white tiles and two taps with running water, we did hit a jackpot.

The platform was empty. There were dogs, rodents and squirrels playing their usual hide and seek games. There was a half conscious drunkard, a fully unconscious man with a rugged and torn jacket, and there were two fully conscious lads planning to take an early bath. After taking a kind of shower, we now wanted a bench so that we can rest for a while before starting the journey. We sat on a bench under one of the sheds and slept. I woke up when the sun peeped through several holes in the shed and touched my eyes and whispered “It is time for the brightness”, and I rose. We reached the gate of the station and searched for a vehicle. I was excited, nervous and my thin friend was hungry. We scouted for some hygienic food stall but compromised on the hygiene part. We ate aloo ka paratha and dahi and then went out for a vehicle. After several rounds of bargaining, we finalized a deal with a Rickshaw puller. He agreed to take us to college for Rs 250. After one hour of journey, we reached our destination; College of my third crush.

……….Contd

Let’s Talk

The White Dove was flying high and was trying to fly still higher and faster. The White Dove wanted peace or may be was running from someone. As the White Dove looked behind, there were Crows with ugly faces and they all were wearing same hats. The Crows had in their hands some pieces of coal. The White Dove flapped faster and wanted to vanish from the dregs of the ‘society’. But in front of the Dove were some Doves who wore similar hats but these doves were all Black and there were too many of them. So theses Black Doves might have submitted to these Crows, White Dove thought. Suddenly the White Dove metamorphosed into an Eagle and started hunting them down, one by one, first the Black Doves and then the Crows. The Eagle was feeling the triumph but then he felt a heavy paw on his head and then similar attacks from the Big Animals and the Eagle was down. The Big Animals were also all black and wore hats similar to the Black Doves and Crows. The Eagle was writhing in pain and cursing them all and at the sight of this I woke up.

What a dream, I thought. At a drilling site, 40 Km away from the Base Complex (Agartala), in the hottest afternoon of the season, I was taking a nap in the cab. I heard distant voices of some agitation which is kind of endemic in the states ruled by communists. I neglected them and went to take another nap. After some time those distant voices were now crystal clear and the villagers surrounded my cab. I woke up as a new born baby wakes to the new world, completely uninterested and disgruntled. I looked around and they were shouting “Band karo Band Karo, Engineer ko Jail me band karo”. There were around twenty odd people some having sickles and some having axes in their hands. At first I wanted to join them and thought this would kill this boredom. But it didn’t take me much time to see that whenever they said “Engineer ko band karo”, they were pointing towards me. So in plain words I was that engineer whom they wanted to see behind the bars and I wanted to join them,wtf!.

I stepped out of the cab, graciously and decently, and I asked them politely “What is the matter? How can I help you people?” There was a sudden uproar as if they understood all of what I said.(they were tribal people and knew nothing but Bangla). Then a few middle aged men came forward and among them one man was ‘Sarpanch’ of that village. He seemed to me a decent guy but then he started speaking. He started introducing himself and that was the most f**ked up introduction I had heard, till that time. “From the age of 16, I started smuggling across the Indo-Bangla border”, he declared. What a great achievement, I thought. “I smuggled hashish, charas, ganja and later on humans. I got highly infamous and was caught various times but each time I was released, you know why? I still have several cases pending in 19 police stations but I am still free and I am ‘Sarpanch’ of this village. You know why?”

I panicked, “I… I have no clue, Sir” “Because my people respect me and love me and that is why I discarded all that shit and entered into politics and this is my first step as a ‘Sarpanch’. My name is Subhash Majumdar. So when people came to me to seek help regarding this land where ONGC wants to drill a gas well, it is my responsibility to help them”.

In the meantime I had called twice to my boss and he said it was not a big thing. “This happens now and then with ONGC’s Engineers”, he assured me with this. ONGC didn’t tell about this at the placement presentation, I recalled. “The site is disputed and you were sent to see how the things can go wrong so this would be your first hand experience and you are ‘Young Blood’ and you can handle things well”, my boss said. ‘Young Blood’! So you will screw me whenever you like because I am ‘Young Blood’

“Sir, we can talk and resolve this matter very peacefully”, I suggested humbly to ‘Sarpanch’.

“ONGC bought land from us and my fellow villagers are still to get their compensation. They have to go daily to SDM(Sub-Divisional-Magistrate) office to beg for their own money because ONGC says that they have disbursed the fund to the SDM’s office”, he continued “and now it has been around 4 months and these poor people are going to die and that would be because of you.”

“Because of me? I don’t have your money, in fact due to some SAP malfunctioning I did not get my own salary for two months and I think we can protest collectively”, I wondered. But I knew how this land acquisition formality goes on and tried to explain it “Sir, actually ONGC has taken this land on lease so the state administration has to be involved. We take this land for three years and give the entire compensatory amount immediately to the SDM’s office. Now it’s up to them to give it to the concerned people. So technically ONGC has no role to play but still I assure you that I …”

“Do you know how hard it is to maintain a family with seven children?” he asked giving some serious look on his face. I said nothing. “You would never know how to parent seven children with few yards of land, ehh??”, he questioned me rhetorically and stood there as if I were to answer it really. “Yes! I would never know because I think I will use condoms and they are cheaper than maintaining this army” but I remained silent, of course I could have answered but somehow I felt that I wanted to live. “So you wanted to talk and resolve the issues, right?” ‘Sarpanch’ said and I nodded and I thought I have won them psychologically and I was kind of happy because I thought I have handled this situation in a very admirable manner. “Let’s go to the police station and talk Mr. Engineer” he said and then a police car appeared with 3-4 constables and they came to me and said casually “Let’s go”. The agitating villagers started yelling again “Band karo Band Karo, Engineer ko Jail me band karo”.

I thought its not that bad to be at Police Station. Obviously it is not a preferred place to initiate a dialogue but there was no other option. So I went. As soon as I entered that police station, I realized that it was not the same as shown in Bollywood movies, the prison cell was uglier and worse than what we have seen. The prison cell was a long gallery with prisoners locked up on the left side and it was all too dark inside the prison cell and there was a horrible smell all around but this was really a well maintained police station with a chick at the reception.I walked to the reception to tell her the entire situation but then I saw my boss coming out from O.C’s office and he was trying to suppress his laugh. “What a good experience for you” and he winked and he told me to go home,matter will be resolved by these people.

“Go home and enjoy”, my boss said.

A Loveable Sunday

Six Thirty.Saturday.Evening. Most people in civilized world will be partying or relaxing and I am at my office in front of my boss. I am looking outside through the window. The downpour has just begun. The colors of everything have changed so dramatically. Trees, grass, buildings, tin sheds, flag post, dogs, cows, cars, tires, roads, fruits, vegetables, fish and people, everyone is so different. I can see that time has stopped. Nothing is changing. My boss is blabbering but he is seated calmly. I nod three times a minute so that my boss is sure that I am listening. But in actuality I am planning. I am deciding to go to some sightseeing. I have four options and I have to analyze them all:

1. Tripureshwari Temple: I don’t want to go to temple to see the beheading of hundreds of goats which is done so professionally that even Ford’s Assembly line and Toyota’s Just-in-time concepts will take inspiration. A goat is brought forward and its head is fixed in a groove made of mud for this purpose. One man will hold the goat, other will bring down a specially crafted axe sort of thing. And splash! The goat is divided into two parts each on opposite sides. Two men would come and take each of the portions and after doing some rituals would take the head and give the body to the original donor of the goat. No I am not going, again.

2. Wild sanctuary: There is a rare breed of white leopard in this sanctuary and if one is lucky enough, he may find it. Man is a social animal but animal after all. I live among so many animals and of variety of species. I don’t need to go to a sanctuary. And just for information my boss is nearly a donkey.

3. Neer-Mahal:- A palace in the water, but I have heard that this time there is drought kind of situations there and people have now started going there by their motorcycles since the boats need some water to operate. So I m not to see khet-mahal.

4. Kamla Sagar Temple: This temple at the border has many legends and true stories related to it, one of the true stories is when the demarcation of Indo-Bangla border was being done, initially this temple was given to Bangladesh, then bowing to a lot of pressure, India gave twice the equivalent land in exchange of this temple and its pond. This temple is called kamla sagar bari. This might be an interesting place to visit, I am done.

Right at this moment I heard something like “Divjot Singh, are you listening or not?”. Then I saw my boss jumping on his chair. I am caught, I thought. I forgot to give even a single nod to the boss. “yes sir, sure” I said confidently. “So then, you have understood the job, you can complete it and give it to me by Monday” he ordered. “Sir, I will give my best try”, I lied to him and came to my house and arranged a vehicle for the next morning.

The morning came quickly and I started the journey. It took three hours to reach the destination and there was beautiful drizzle all the way. I came to know that beheading process in the temple has just finished, so I rushed to the temple, did some ghanta-bajao session and came out with prasad in my mouth which was the best part of the trip, till now. As I approached the pond, I saw the actual indo-bangla border. I saw the marked pillars which are indicative of an international border. For the second time in my life, I felt Vande Matram in my veins. I saw Bangladeshi farmers going back to their homes, I saw Bangladeshi women taking their kids with them, I saw children playing the same game of kancha as children in india play, I saw a railway station very much similar like ours, I saw a train similar to ours and I saw a very old banyan tree, on my side of the border, under which some 20-25 people were gathered and listening to a person who was not a saint. I scurried upto there and sat to listen what was going on.

The orator was a middle aged person. From his accent I could tell he was either from Haryana or Rajasthan. He was speaking in hindi which was a refreshing change from bangla. The people were listening to a story which goes like this:

There were two best friends, each named Jitender. Both joined BSF at same time and their first posting was Kamla Sagar Post. They could be seen playing pranks on other soldiers or doing mimicry of some of their commanding officers. One day Jitender was guarding the border and to relax, sat beside a bush which grew over the border fencing and provided him some temporary relief from sweltering heat. He was lying there doing nothing, thinking of nothing, then he heard some movements on the other side of the bush, he immediately got into the position and asked “Who is there and what are you doing?” “Just having my lunch” said a girl in bengali accent. He asked her name and when he was satisfied that she was harmless, he again went into the rest mode. They talked for several minutes that day and went back to their duties. Next day Jitendra again went to the bush and expected the girl to be there. She was there, maybe waiting for him or maybe just having her lunch. They talked for around one hour that day and decided to meet at this spot as frequently as possible. Jitendra told this to his friend jitendra. Jitendra warned Jitendra of the outcomes. But jitendra was not listening; he was already dreaming. Jitendra introduced his best friend Jitendra to the girl one day. The girl was named Ruby, had been married for six years and had six children. Jitendra sometimes made fun of Ruby of carrying a volleyball team all the time. Jitendra was married as well and had two children. They started meeting daily now and chatted for hours. Ruby’s husband worked at a nearby kiln and Ruby used to take care of a small patch of paddy field. Ruby’s husband did not drink, he did not beat her, he took care of his children, he was a good father, but Ruby did not like him, don’t know why, she was confused a lot. Jitendra’s wife was a school teacher, she was beautiful, and she did not harass jitender’s parents, she was a good mother, but jitender was not happy. They both fell into the void created by their dissatisfaction and too many expectations. They were both falling with very little intention of getting out of it. Morning for both of them meant start of another day to talk with each other. They had agreed to a strange condition to their relationship, they promised to never see each other’s face and they kept the promise till the end. It was like knowing a person with mask on his/her face. But no one could hardly contemplate the sanctity of this relationship.

At this point, three women sitting in front of me erupted in tears. “Did I miss something?” I wondered. But each of them started simultaneously I thought it was all but decided or maybe they knew the ending of this story, which I could guess was not a happy one. The other people who were irritated and yet acted calmly said “please have some water” and “please control your emotions and pain”. In plain words they wanted to say “shut up” It took some while for them to regain themselves. In the meantime I thought, there was no need for the orator to explain that both Jitender and Ruby were dissatisfied with their married life, in fact this totally changed the characters. Anyways the story continued:

So they fell in love. They were told not to eat the apple, but they ate the whole tree. Fellow soldiers started teasing Jitender of his love affair but appreciated the lofty ideals around it. The village on the other side of the border also came to know of this affair. A religious meeting was held and it was decided unanimously that Ruby’s body houses a blemished soul which should be get rid of and the best way they could find was to lynch Ruby to death. Her husband was also a part of this insanity. Days passed and Ruby did not come to meet Jitender. He started getting worried. He managed to talk to a villager and assured him a safe passage to India if he could tell what happened to Ruby. That villager did get a safe passage and Jitender did get the news of Ruby. He was shocked to the bones. He was dead. A week later, in an ambush by the ethnic militants, 8 BSF soldiers died and both jitender and jitender were crippled for their whole life. Jitender’s lovely wife came to know about his love affair and so she divorced him. He fled from his house forever. No one knows of Jitender’s whereabouts. He must be living his life in obscurity. May God bless pure souls like them.

With this the story ended. I remained there for some time and then I decided to go back. I was happy, I was elated, I was proud of my decision of coming here and I was tired. I headed home and dropped myself into the bed.

Nine-thirty. Mo(a)nday Mo(u)rning. The rain has stopped. I am looking outside through the window. In my eyes there are still the last images of the orator when I asked his name and he said “Jitender” .

I am floating in this timelessness. But then I hear something familiar and moronic, “Divjot Singh, have you completed the work?” said my boss.

“Sir, I tried my best but I will complete it by today itself”

I lied again.

A Strange Guest

The clock ticked seven on a hot and irritatingly humid evening. I wanted to shift my bedroom to the bathroom but then I thought bathroom doesn’t have an internet connection. I stood up from my chair to go to the kitchen and to make a very nutritious food, maggi noodles. At the door of the kitchen was lying someone which was 80cm long, 2.6 cm wide and 2.3 cm thick. Thanks to civil Engineering which altered my instincts, everything I see, the first information I gather from my mind is their size and figure. So it took around 9 seconds for me to realize that, the creature which was lying on the floor was a snake.

I stood still as if I am the hunter and snake is the prey. The snake was there with all calm and composure. Its head was in opposite direction, it seemed like it was waiting for someone. From a distance I saw a seemingly innocuous cockroach strolling on an evening ride, may be looking for some food or may be an after-food walk. The snake pounced on it the moment it came nearer.

A snake comes in my house and eats a cockroach! This was gross and not upto the standards of a snake which can swallow a creature four times than itself. How degraded was the food chain here, I thought.

Since the snake was busy in relishing the cockroach, this was the high time that I look for some (Lethal) weapon. I went into the balcony and found one. So I had in my hand a big broom. The snake was of a strange colour, green on the top and white at the bottom. It was definitely a creepy circumstance. I wanted to shout “Help,Help” or send a morse code for SOS. But at the same time I also wanted to act manly. So with my weapon I attacked the snake with ferocity. The attack atleast made the snake realize that there was another living creature in the house. I was trying hard to control the wild movements of the snake which wanted to crawl into my bedroom. I said to myself, “Wait a f**king minute. I am a fan of MAN v/s WILD show on Discovery and that man eats snake by cutting its neck.” So I managed to open the door of the kitchen with my legs since my arms were engaged with my weapon. I took the knife and with a very heavy heart, I did it.

I mean I put the knife back with no act of heroism.

I was still struggling to murder it. I gave several blows on its head but it seemed as if it was enjoying them. Then the door bell rang. I checked the clock, it was Seven-Thirty, it has to be the maid. I elongated myself to open the door. She said “ohh, snake again”. She came with a confidence of a warrior, took the weapon from me, struck the snake’s head around 7-8 times and with bare hands threw the snake 16 meters (thanks to civil engineering) away from the house. What was she! I thought.

I took a sigh of relief and said “what a long snake!” She said “This was very small, two years ago I killed a snake of double the size”. “Ohh! Where was that?”, I inquired. She said plainly “In this house only”

What the hell! “is there any solution”, I prayed. “Not as such! Tribals eat snakes, by the way”, she answered.

And I am still a vegetarian.

AN UNUSUALLY USUAL STORY

Sunday Morning and I am still sleeping:- Unusual

A call from BOSS at 7:10 A.M:- Usual

I feel like killing him:- Usual

He scolds me without my fault:- Unusual

I react back strongly:- Unusual

Throws me a challenge:- Unusual

I accept it confidently:- Unusual

We go to the disputed site:-Usual

We exchange heated arguments:- Unusual

I feel an urge to kick his ass:- Usual

I feel like abusing him:- Usual

I abuse him:- Unusual

I abuse him, literally:- Unusual

He is embarrassed:- Usual

He is upset:- Unusual

I am confused:- Usual

He is silent for two big minutes:- Unusual

I don’t know how to react:- Unusual

I finally feel joyous: Unusual

I want to celebrate:- Unusual

He threatens me by going to HEAD-Civil:- Unusual

I call HEAD-Civil:- Unusual

I narrate him expurgated story:- Unusual

HEAD-Civil says “its f**king hilarious”:- Unusual

I ask HEAD-Civil to take care of the situation:- Usual

HEAD-Civil assures and again says “its f**king hilarious”:- Unusual

Next morning, the matter fades away:- Usual

I wait for another chance:- Usual.