"windmill"

In famous novel, "Animal Farm", pigs who were the rulers of the farm start building a windmill which will supply their farm with electrical power. All other animals in farm are made to believe that construction of windmill was necessary as it will make their lives easy with machines operated by windmill power doing the work for them. With passage of time, this task was made sacrosanct with its value so firmly ingrained into their conscience that all other issues like shortage of food, longer working hours, partial treatment among animals were dwarfed by it's worth. so effective was the brainwash that animals would happily let go off their rations, work on Sundays voluntarily for the completion of windmill. Any damage occurring to the windmill, even if done by a storm was painted as a mischief done by enemies (humans) of neighbouring farms who were jealous of the prosperity of animal farm. Instances like these further helped the rulers to divert attention of other animals from above mentioned other causes which could have led to resentment among animals against rulers.

This novel was based upon Russia after 1917 revolution, but inferences can be easily drawn of every ruler in history of mankind with it. Modern India is no exception. If we analyse present Indian politics, Shri Ram Mandir at Ayodhya and Kashmir issue would be the two windmills around which majority of our Politicians have played their politics. Likewise, poverty, unemployment, deteriorating environment, pathetic living conditions don't bother common populace much, bas Pakistan ki band bajni chahiye aur Mandir wahiin banna chahiye.

But credit must be given where it's due. Present government has shown audacity to construct it's windmills and they must be lauded for that. Majority of our generation never believed that there would be a final and conclusive judgement on Ayodhya in our lifetime or the Paki PM would be reduced to a joke no one cared about. It has happened now and from now on, lets hope that there are no more windmills to construct rather than the ones which improve the lives of common populace.

Delhi Diaries

   

     It was around 6:30 in the evening and I was moving swiftly towards the Metro station after a tiresome day at office. It was mine second day at Delhi, the National Capital and I was still calibrating myself to the tune of the mega polis. Funky metro trains, overcrowded roads, paan spewing rickshaw drivers, artificial looking girls in short skirts, chic shopping malls, beggars and a sea of people everywhere. All in all, a total contrast to mine Himalayan state . Here life seemed ten years ahead and twenty times faster. Hailing from such a silent state and having to live now in this city, I was in middle of a culture shock, right in my very own country.

So, I was about to enter the metro station  when a voice  addressed me as ‘Babu ji’ from behind.

He was  a middle aged man, most probably in his early forties, with uncombed hair, a uniformly thick moustache with a grey beard , a thin and a long face. He was wearing a checked shirt, untucked with dull black trousers.

Kya aapko hindi aati hai?  He asked

Ji , aati hai...kyuun?  i asked back

Babuji, hum Maharashtra ke  rehne  waale  hain, yahaan  ghoomne  aaye the par aaj subah hamaara saara samaan kho gaya, please kuchh help kar dijiye, waapis ghar jaana hai, saari family pareshaan hai..he said pointing towards two other ladies standing 2-3 steps away with full gloomy faces, maybe in a culture shock too, just like me ;)

Aap hamein apna address de dijiye, main waapis pahunchte hi aapke paise bhej duunga, but please abhi kuchh help kar dijiye, main aapke paanv haath lagata huun…he continued with the most sober tone I had ever heard by then in my whole life.

His agony and helplessness pinched mine innerself .

Well!! Can’t get more bad than that…dilli jaise shehar main bina paison ke, hey bhagwaan!! Kitna dukh hai iss duniya main..i thought.

To abhi aap waapis train se jaaoge? I asked him

Ji..he said

Kitne paise lagenge? I asked him.

He gave me a rough number.

I checked my purse.it was a new job and I hadn’t got any salary by then. Still I pulled out some of mine last currency notes with a smiling Gandhi on them and handed over them to him, wonder if Gandhiji laughed so much in his real life.

Bahut bahut shukriya babuji, he said

Have a safe journey, I replied.

He seemed happy….so was me. Kind of felt great after having helped someone getting out of such a great mess.

“ab toh swarag jaane se koi nee rok sakta” I thought ;)

Well!! Couldn’t help myself from being captivated by that feeling then. Don’t know why, but normally , we keep on doing bad things  in our lives without ever contemplating  about consequences of our actions and sometimes, when the noble part of us inside questions us, we try making up excuses  to justify ourselves, many times blaming  others also just for having a mental peace of mind and when once in an eternity, we do one good thing by chance, we believe ourselves to have the purest soul on the planet, having atoned for everything with one good gesture.

So, that was my time of bartering the fruits of mine misdeeds with gods. I felt like an angel for a few minutes then, possessing the most noble soul  to have graced the earth.

A few days later, me, Raveesh and vivek, my roommates, after having dinner were sitting on the benches  outside GIP mall in Noida. We used to walk upto GIP mall at sector 18 Metro station every evening talking, mostly about our corrupt politicians, bad education system, weak infrastructure, government policies and a zillion other things, which we believed to be in a  much inferior state  in comparison to our western counterparts.

  We happen to be that part of our present  young generation, who have  benefitted the most from the economic strides made by our country in the last two decades. We have the best jobs in market available right now, surplus money and a  promising future, even then we  have nothing but frustration to show at the current handling of our country by our politicians. Usually, it’s a moral responsibility of educated people of a society to show light to those who can’t see it by themselves, to rise against  the evils, but ours is a strange generation. Here, a eighty year old retired sepoy from Indian Army fights government on its face with rest of us liking him on facebook.

Bhaiyaa, akele  facebook pe Anna Hazzare ko like karne se kuchh nee hota.

But still most of us do it, believing that we have contributed our part.

So, like any normal evening, we were sitting outside GIP mall. Vivek was telling about the art of photography in ad shoots, like if it’s an ad of a handbag, doesn’t matters how much hot  the model is, or how less clothes she is wearing, your eyes will fall instantly on the Handbag.

All three of us were glaring at the gigantic poster of a handbag company hanging on the front face of the GIP. Vivek was busy analyzing the poster while Raveesh listened attentively to him, trying to come up  with counter questions while i was hoping for that picture to turn into life. Suddenly a kid appeared on my side. He was around six years old, wearing  pants with infinite holes and a shirt with no buttons on it. He wiped his nose with his wrist and said,

Saab, bhookh lagi hai, paisa do…

It was 10.40 PM.  I gave him a two rupees coin. He ran away from there jumping. I was watching  him running past the outer barricades of mall when I heard Raveesh’s voice from behind.

Yeh kya kiya tune?

Kya kiya maine?? I asked back in ignorance..

You just gave that kid alms…

Then!!!  I shrugged my shoulders,  what’s wrong in that…

Dude, haven’t you seen Slumdog movie..its all  system, these kids work for mafia, who deploy these kids on every street just to make some easy money and by giving these suckers  money,  you are just contributing to this rotten world…raveesh said.

Buddy, what’s the deal…it was just two rupees and that kid seemed really hungry…I replied trying to justify myself.

Achha!! Jis tarah phudakta hua wo gaya hai….lagaa  nee ki he was any hungry… raveesh said..

Maybe koi rehri waala ho wahaan…I said.

11 baje kaun rehri waala hoga wahaan…dude he went straight to his uncle...vivek ,who was until then,  busy with poster , said.

Bata raha hoga wahaan ki kaise ek 27 saal ke gadhe ka  f***  banaya…raveesh added…

Rehan do tum dono… ek to kisi bande ne ek bachhe ki help ki aur upar se tum do ho…trying to pull the leg of the Bill Gates now...khotey..

Both of them smiled.

This ain't yours goddy goody himachal buddy....vivek said...you don't  give alms here, every penny you give like that makes the anti social elements fatter, often motivating them to kidnap more kids, and they amputate most of'em. Just imagine yours very own kid kidnapped and blinded..how would that feel...

pretty bad...i said ...

hmmm...so next time whenever you think of turning into a Bill Gates, just go to any of the million charity sites online and donate there....Its Delhi...we do things here that way...vivek said..

i was silent for a few minutes.... thinking about that child, who was probably again faking hunger somewhere else. Suddenly, my thought went towards that Tamil guy also...maybe, he was a fake also. i asked them indirectly about him that just suppose you happen to meet a guy from Maharashtra on a vacation, who has lost everything that very same morning, what would you say to that guy...

 bhosdi de, ghar se aaya kyuun tha??? vivek said

why??? i asked.

yaar sab fraud hote hain yeh...bheekh maangne ke naye naye tarike...and they make more money this way....he added.

Raveesh started smiling hearing that.

Kinne deke aaya tu? he asked

500 !!

buddy, u gonna learn big way  about life here... its a hell lot more different then the world in your books...he said.
yaa...seems like that to me also..i said calmly..
did he appeared like he was from Tamil Nadu?  raveesh asked again..
nope..and he spoke Hindi pretty well too...i had a doubt then also, but dunno why i did that..i said
 koi naa yaar...hota hai...mistakes are  part of life..just make sure you don't repeat them... he added
i was  really really ashamed of my utter foolishness by then.

 i just thought that what about he was really stuck..what about he was telling truth...99.9% chances are that he was lying but what if he was in the other 0.1 %... just imagine that also......i said

we aren't saying its your fault yaar..thing is you should have analysed him...we meet everyday a hell lots of people like that daily..and from every part of our country...and nearly all of them do this for easy money...even if we give money to a single one of'em, we will be corrupting them more...and India is a pretty big country with big hearted people...so those people  always find that 'someone', who'll trust their lies...one guy a day...their life is made...and that trust of yours encourages them...vivek said...
and a guy who's really stuck, mostly won't go for money like that...there are a million ways to earn money...just imagine yourself in such a position...will you do that in case you get stuck...raveesh added
never in a million years...i said thoughtfully...hmmm...mistakes happen...trick is never to repeat them...


Well...I was silent after that. They say it right, you grow everyday and that day was just that day.

lame, lamer, lamest !!!

It was a pleasant summer morning at Dharamshala. I was coming back to my office from bus stand to my office in a bus, seated on the seat behind the front door. A girl was standing right next to me. She was around 5’ 4’’, in early twenties, wearing blue jeans and a white sleeveless top. She had a very beautiful face, with untied hair falling over her shoulders. Needles to say, like any normal guy, I was regularly peeping on her every now and then. She was attractive and I was doing my best to impress her. For a second, I even contemplated giving her my seat, just to break ice but then thought it to be a bit being too bold on my part. So I held my self back, trying to figure out a better idea.

Five minutes had passed since the bus started and I was completely in love with her. I had thought of marrying her and living happily ever after….yeah, men can be insane sometimes. Soon the conductor came, I paid my fair, she did too, probably a college student or a lecturer there, as she asked for a ticket up to college station.

There was also a guy standing there. I hadn’t noticed him until the conductor asked him for fare too. He was around twenty, spiked hair, a loose bag hanging over his shoulders, faded Levi’s. he also asked for a ticket up to college, giving over a 100 rupees note to the conductor.

Don’t you have a 2 Rs coin?? Conductor asked angrily as if the guy had just done his daughter.

No…he replied sheepishly.

Well, then you’ll have to get down..i know your likes, always trying to save money like that. You people have money to spend over at CCD’s, malls, but none to pay your fares….blah blah…from where I am going to get 100 Rs change at this time….blah blah..why are people so irresponsible…blah blah…nonsense people…blah blah…conductor seemed like a guy who was tired of getting ass kicking’s from his wife every day and was waiting to erupt anytime..

I tried not to care about it as it’s a usual thing in our lives. Upset conductors, mischievous students etcetera etcetera. The unusual thing was that a very beautiful girl was standing next to me and I was still watching her .she was also looking at the boy, who was standing there with his head bent down, literally in tears, while the conductor humiliated him.

God , I loved her eyes. She was searching for something in her bag. Soon conductor whistled, Bus stopped and conductor told the boy to get down mid way. He got downwithout saying anything.

Hey, excuse me…she yelled at boy at high tone..holding out a two rupee coin in her hand..but she was late in searching for it as the boy had got down, and probably she wouldn’t have believed that conductor will boot out the boy for just 2 rupees.

“ aapne 2 rupaye ke liye use neeche utaar diya???”..she asked unbelievingly to the conductor..do you have anything human about you?

Madam, aapko nee pata, yeh log aise hi hote hain..100 rupaye kaa note lekar paise bachaate hain..you don’t worry..i know how to deal with such people…conductor said.

2 rupaye kaun bachaata hai aajkal…are you insane?? Kaam aise karne chahiye ki log yaad karein..she was really angry now..expecting that middle aged bald fat midget to be sucked up in some black hole. She told him a full deal about whatknd of animal he was.

On my side, it had never occurred to me that I could have helped the boy. All the time, I had a two rupees coin in my hands, but never in my dreams, it had occurred to me that I could’ve used that coin in the best way ever, but I was busy, dreaming about having babies with that girl. I hated myself for being such a retard.

She was still standing there, looking more beautiful now.

I tried to look outside, ashamed of myself. Well!! Men can be lame sometimes .

life of paradoxes :)

Sir wants all of new joiners to write something in 1000 words by evening, our Manager told us.

Sir, you mean we have to write a story, Ishan, a lean 22 year old guy asked.

Can be anything, story or anything you feel at home writing about, Sir replied.

Okay!! Now why do they want the Zuckerburg to write stories? Praveen, turning his chair towards me asked.

No idea mate, I replied smilingly.

It sucks man, I’m a programmer, gimme some fuckin’ programs to code, that’s what I’m good at, not writing some crappy stories, he said throwing his hands on table.

Maybe they wanna see how creative we are, how artistic we are or how beautiful we can think? , Gaurav another new recruit, who was sitting to the other side of me said, He was thinly built, with short curly hair, wore specs , IAS aspirant with always a billion questions with him.

Dude, its govt sector, nobody gives a fuck how beautiful you think. The only art that matters here is to create ways to shirk work, Praveen said again. He was in his early thirties, with a lot of struggle behind, probably one of those guys, who at 18 expected the world to be theirs once they dived in, only to find the realities a bit too bad in taste.

I don’t think so, said Gaurav. There are many public sector units in our country kickin ass right now. ISRO, DRDO, ONGC’s to name a few, he added.

and to top it all, Indian Railways, even with a minister like Lalu Yadav at helm, it’s the most profit making organization right now in entire country, I added, with an iota of pride that I knew things too.

Lalu was minister three years ago, where do you clowns live anyway, Gaurav shrilled, making a face, as if he was male Maneka Gandhi and I had just shot the last living tiger on planet.

Okay, okay you kiddies. Stop fighting, we have to write na, so why so much whining, sandeep, who was sitting over a few desks away and listening to us, barged in, saving myself from more public humiliation.

So, what you gonna write about?, I asked him.

Lokpal bill, pretty hot topic these days, he said. What you’re upto?

haven’t decided it yet, said I.

I had a thing for writing since I was a kid. It’s the only thing about which I believed myself to say anytime… Okay!! , I can do that. And that line of Gaurav that maybe they wanted to see our creativeness had stuck somewhere in my mind. So, I started pushing my neurons pretty hard in every direction possible. Two hours passed, my head started aching, but nothing came in mind. That’s the problem with deadlines, you really aren’t able to do things which you normally do with yours eyes closed. Here every new idea seems more fascinating than the previous one, muck like FTV, where every new model looks way hotter than the previous one.

After lots of soul searching, I decided to write a story about an old man, whom I had met once at Kangra bus stand, in acute poverty, but who still preferred to live with dignity than traversing shortcuts. It was something regarding our moral dilemmas, about whether to or not to corrupt ourselves, when things stand pretty much against us. So, I spent rest of the time developing this story.

By evening, all of us were done. Sir came in the evening and we submitted our stories. I was pretty much satisfied with my article, a bit excited too. In fact in my daydreams, I had even imagined my article being chosen as the best one amid lots of admiring eyes [] and tones of appreciation. Soon the day ended. Sir went, so did our seniors, me too, nothing happened. Maybe they’ll announce tomorrow, I thought.

Back at home, dreamer inside thought that maybe they’ll send the best story for interdepartmental competition, then Inter Bank level, National level, international level, Man booker, Nobel for literature…well, well, well, no one pays for dreaming, right? ;)

Next day also passed like that. Everybody was busy with their work, I was restless, was kind of unable to figure out why it was taking so much time to judge the best one.

I went over to the Sandeep’s table. Dude, this website sucks, I told him, referring to the website he had designed for the bank.

You seem out of work, why don’t you design one, he replied.

Well, when are they gonna declare the results, I came straight to the point.

You still waiting about that nerd, maybe the guy wanted essays for his children.

Not possible, I cut him, he would have been more specific then.

Yup…even I am also waiting for the result, mine was a pretty good article, he winked.

Dude, you copied from Wikipedia, I saw you.

Okay!! What ever, why don’t we ask the manager, he said.

Good idea, let’s go.

We were standing in our manager’s cabin. He was sunk deep in a pile of files.

Sir, when are we gonna have the results, I asked him.

Which results, he asked back, trying to figure out what I was asking about.

Sir about those stories you made us write the other day…added Sandeep.

Ahh.. the stories, that wasn’t a competition.. those were just for reference of your handwriting for future… he said, with a smile on his face.

Well, that was one of those moments when I really want the earth below my feet to sink and suck me up.

I came back to my cubicle, holding my head.

They really don’t give a damn about talent.

"of unknown faces and name less people"

May 2011, Chandigarh.

I had left my earlier company of four years and was searching for a new one with full vigour. Every morning, I would get up, dress up in my formals and used to visit those petty job consultants and other companies for interviews with sun blazing overhead. Every passing day took a bit of me with itself. Summing up, a pretty frustrating time. Life seemed to be at its lowest ebb, but still, hopes of getting through those times and prospects of happy days ahead livened me every morning and with every failure in the evening, I would console myself by saying “things always get worse before they get better” Its times like these when we know about our true self, when we start appreciating life, when we start acknowledging the happiness we get from living every moment of our lives. For most of the time, we are alone, thinking about our mistakes in past, watching others excel in their worlds, in other words a perfect front row seat in a game called “life”.

Outside, on my way to bus stand, there was a pavement alongside the road. It was cemented one, with equally spaced trees on it. There used to be a beggar there on it, usually sleeping on a dirty blanket with his head resting on one of the bricks circling around the trees. He was around fifty but looked much older  due to a fully wrinkled face. He had small eyes, shrunk  in his eye sockets, a thin nose and a long beard. He used to wear a patched grey shirt with a checked lungi, and going by his appearance, he din’t looked like a regular bather too.

I was living there for the past two years and I wondered why I hadn’t noticed him earlier. Maybe because , like I said earlier, I was too busy to notice things in my life earlier. In the first look, he looked like an ordinary beggar but as I walked past him every day for my job pursuits,  a kind of cosmic energy engulfed me everytime…..giving me an air of positivity. There was something about him. Unlike others, he never begged to anyone, but was just lying there whole day. I used to pass that pavement everyday and to this day I don’t  have any clue why my curiosity about that beggar kept rising. Each day, , I would pass him, staring him and wondering who that guy was….meybe he was some kind of secret agent from CBI….or maybe from CIA…those guys nose around everywhere…I used to wonder. There was this growing urge inside me, which everyday pumped me up to say hi to him, whenever I passed him.

It was a Monday evening one day and I had just crashed out in another interview, for which I was preparing for last full two weeks. I was devastated and had walked right from sector 17 to Manimajra, an around 10 kms walk in utter confusement. I was engrossed in my agony and had no idea about how much I had walked when suddenly a voice from behind asked me;

Beta, time kitna hua? (what’s the time, son? )

I looked around at the source of the voice. It was him, at his usual position, in his usual attire.

Its 6:43 pm, I said.

I hadn’t talked to anyone in last two weeks except to my interviewers that day. My heart felt kind off heavy. Freshly booted out from the interview, I was in a deep anaesthetic state. My feet were aching due to continuous walking. I don’t know why. But I just stood there. I wanted to move but it felt like suddenly gravity below my feet had increased tenfold. I sat there on the pavement, facing road, with my head resting on my hands.

You okay son, he asked.

Yeah….am fine.. just a bit tired…I said.

I was looking at the traffic, at the people, moving helter skelter towards their destinations. On the opposite side of road was the weekly vegetable market, brimming with life. I sensed that he was still looking at me from behind, probably studying me, trying to find what was wrong.

Seems like a nice view from here, watching everybody move…I said.

Yeah…actually…kind of..it is..he said.

Don’t worry!!,  things will be fine….he said calmly.

Yeah.. they always do, I said…it’s the uncertainty of their happening which bothers me.

Well, life will teach you that also..he said smilingly.

Hmmmm…its one hell of a teacher anyway…..it first tests you, then teaches you…I said

So, what is it about? He asked

Had an interview today, was preparing since last two weeks, only to find out that they hired someone with contacts…damn people, I said.

These things are bound to happens…gods will keep testing you with stuff like that. You just have to do your karma, else he’ll take care of, he said, pointing his finger towards sky.

Don’t know, I don’t really buy this Karma shit and there is no god watching over here either. Here men rule boy, we make our own destinies with our hands, doing goods and bads…well !!, it doesn’t matters here. In the end you become the mirror of what you have done. It’s been happening around for the past three months in my case. I just try doing my work but always something bad comes up…over which I have no control, I said.

I can understand yours position … beginning of professional life , rough challenges, a few failures in the beginning after a careless childhood…and now suddenly life seems hell… he said.

You know, he added, it’s the times like these when we are tested by gods…..it’s the times like these which show us our mettle…about what we can do on our own and what we might end up becoming later in our lives.

Both of us were silent for some time after this. Night was darkening around, street lights were turned on by authorities. Traffic was still moving there with full life. After a brief pause I said;

Sometimes I feel like running into my parents lap once again, crying…. Complaining them about how much I hate this world…. About how much I am afraid of this world here so far away from home…but alas!! Am too big to do that now….i said smilingly.

Kid, this world is also big enough to do your things, he smiled back….and loving enough to play into…just you have to figure out what you want to play and like they say, when a man’s fight is with himself, he’s worth something. You don’t have to worry about the world, its yourself, you have to look into. World has enough problems for itself to worry about right now.

He seemed quite a good guy. Indirectly, he had told me to set my act right.

I have another interview on coming Saturday…. I’ll give my best shot this time..i said..

Yeah, I know you will…he said…. And don’t worry, you’ll be through this time, just work hard and leave rest upto the gods… they are always watching and they always take care.

I smiled at that.

You really don’t trust gods…he said.

Well, let’s see what happens, I said getting up.

After that day, I used to come down to that footpath every evening for an hour or two and we used to chat everyday. Really, there was something amazing about that guy. Monetarily, he was a beggar. But by his sheer intellect, he could have given the best a run for their money.

Come Saturday, it was my big day and I nailed it that time. Heading back, I got a blanket and a pizza (sounded crazy) and went joyfully to that pavement. But to my utmost horror, he was no where to be  seen. Believing that he would be back soon, I waited there for two hours, but nothing happened.

I checked back later in the night also and in the following evening also, but he never showed up again. I couldn’t understand what I meant. Earlier that week, he had told me that everything happens for some purpose. Many times , we are unable to understand about the occurrence of things , but still there is a purpose there always.

I wasn’t able to find any purpose in that case…. Maybe gods, whom I refuted so much, were there…who just happen to come down into our lives as unknown faces, when we need them them the most.

sense '&' nonsense

What's the time? taya ji (my uncle) asked me, giving me the cup of tea he had just brought for me from the shop.
Its 10.15 pm, i said.
that bus is half an hour late, will be here by 11 pm...taya ji said.
how come?
dunno...your dad just called me.
Me and taya ji were at bus stand to receive my parents, who were coming from Shimla that night. It was the month of December and gods had just wrapped a fresh layer of snow around mighty Dhauladhars that day,submerging whole valley under cold waves with mercury shrunk around freezing point. Cold waves seemed to have sucked the life out of the valley.Bus stand was also in a lifeless state with very few souls present there.
So, idea of spending 45 more minutes in such weather saddened me.I tried to concentrate on my tea. It was Kangra tea and its splendid aroma always kept my senses in check during the harsh winters in our valley. I was fully under my pashmina shawl from head to toe.
"Excuse me, is the bus for Jammu here yet?" , a guy asked me.
I looked up, he seemed to be in his early twenties, six feet tall with a lean build, a normal forehead, small brown eyes and a long pointed nose.He was wearing a long kashmiri coat and a black woolen cap.
I dunno...can't see any here...i said..why don't you check with the guy at reception.
I did,there is no one there, he said.
I looked around, there was no one there really.
maybe he's sleeping in the dorm behind, i said.
He smiled and sat next to me..placing his bag under the chair.
i looked at my watch again. it was 10.20, felt like that weather had slowed time also.
are you also going somewhere? he asked
not actually.....just waiting for someone, i replied.
How about you?, you are from Jammu or just a pleasure trip, i asked him
no, he said, I'm from Srinagar, so just going back home.
Srinagar..i repeated...wow man, you are from heaven.
He smiled and said, no buddy...nothing like that, your place is beautiful too. i fell in love with the beauty which nature has bestowed upon this place.
well!!!, thanks for that..i said smilingly.
hmmm...I'm Ankush, by the way..i said.
Jeeshan, he said, holding his hand out of his pocket.
Jeeshan.....cool name, i said.
ya, my Abba gave it to me...he said
so, are you a student? i asked
no...not one right now he said, did my bachelors two years ago, then banged my head on UPSC's walls last year and now the whole world is zooming right in front of my eyes.
ha ha....what happened?
well, i perished in mains..was kind of disturbing after studying so much for an year.
Don't worry mate, these tests are for robots anyway, who can study for sixteen hours everyday mechanically, i said comfortingly.
ha ha...exactly...he said...most of'em are nerds.
apart from that, you still have enough time to reappear again...just take some time off from your studies, freshen up and hit'em again, i said.
ya..exactly...i did that...haven't touched my books for past three months..was selling woolens with my uncle here...he replied in a kiddish enthusiasm with spark in his eyes.
what....you were selling woolens??? i asked in amazement..
yaaa..he said..my uncle comes here every year and since he visits every village here, it was an excellent opportunity to see the real beauty of the place.
hope..you weren't disappointed, i said.
not at all...like i said, this place is amazing..so beautiful temples, lush Fields, tea gardens...i loved every moment i spent here.
hmmmm....you are really a vagabond..
kind of...he said with a brief smile on his face.
He seemed a jovial kind of guy. we kept talking on various issues. we talked on cricket, bollywood starlets, corrupt politicians etc etc..for thirty more minutes.Then his bus came, he took mine face book id, promised me a Kashmir coat and hurriedly left for his bus.

Taya ji looked under the chair, on which he was sitting, after he left.
what are you looking at? i asked
are you mad or something??, when will you start seeing things as the way they are, you are twenty five now...taya ji said without answering my question.
What happened now?? i asked..wondering what wrong did i did
what happened now?..taya imitated me...you should know who to talk with and whom not too..
i held out my hands in exasperation....signalling i wasn't getting anything.
din't you noted his name...taya asked
it was jeeeshan khan...pretty cool one.
dunno what's wrong with this generation....nothin was cool about that name.....he could have been a fuckin terrorist, taya said...
Tayaaaa....i said in a slow tone...he was just a guy like me...and he loved Sachin Tendulkar...and moreover he's attempting civil services....he'll be a commissioner some day...
Now taya gave me a look as i was a fuckin terrorist too.
everybody loves Sachin, taya was unmoved...and they don't become commissioners..they blow commissioners..
ahaan....tau..i said..throwing my arm around his neck jokingly...why you old guys think so much..all fingers aren't same...
don't bring fingers here kid....we have a history...all I'm telling you to be cautious...rest you know better...taya said...
we don't have to reference our history for everything, i thought...instead why don't we give our present a chance to be peaceful...i remained silent this time because this debate of proving one right and other wrong could have gone to eternity....like many of our numerous conflicts since time immemorial.

okay!!!, i am bringing one more tea for you..tau said...
sure..i said...turning  my ipod on.

life rumblings

It was a typical May afternoon at Dharamsala that day, a bit hot with mercury in early thirties. Except for the noise of buses and their shouting conductors at bus stand, everything else seemed to be setting its equation right with the nature. Behind stood the mighty Dhauladhars, with their snow capped peaks towering over the beautiful valley of kangra. The valley, with dhauladhars as its vigilante, was calm as ever, brimming with life.This valley is known all over the world for its pleasant weather, scenic beauty, youthful rivulets, amazing painters, pristine temples, tea gardens, authentic chinese food, fresh weed and Dalai Lama. When sun bakes up the plains in summers, valley is full with all kinds of tourists from everywhere.
So, i was sitting at HRTC's canteen at Dharamsala bus stand, having lunch with ronnie. We're going to Chandigarh, 150 miles away, where both of us worked and boy, going away from home from such a beautiful place, it sucked big time. I often wondered why our government couldn't create enough jobs at our place, why on earth we had to be so far away from our homes.
okay!!, I'm going to get our tickets from counter, you finish your meal and meet me downstairs, said ronnie.
Okay, get a window seat....i said.
10 minutes later, i was boarding the bus. Unfortunately,due to holidays season, neither of us got a window seat.
its gonna be a stale afternoon, i thought.
we put our bags inside and sat on ours seats. Ours was the second last ones, adjacent to the emergency door.
Here is number 42 and 43, said a female voice from behind.
I turned around to have a look at the speaker. It was a girl, around 5'7'' in height with lean built, small eyes and a very beautiful face. She was wearing light blue jeans and a yellow T shirt. Her other friend was short and stout. From their language, they appeared locals, probably students studying somewhere else.
Bus started. Rons was still cringing about not having the window seat.
 When will this  bus reach Chandigarh?  a voice asked me from behind.
"around 6 hours", i said, turning back.
at that time,i again looked at her. She really had a beautiful face, so beautiful that i wasn't able to keep myself away from staring at her continuously like a painter studying a painting.She was busy arranging play list on her cell while suddenly out of nowhere, she looked at my side and caught m red handed staring at her. Our eyes met and a mild electric shock ran through my whole body. Hurriedly i turned around and pretended to look other way. I was bowled by then by her. There was something about her , about that face, about those eyes. Felt like it was love at first sight, mine three hundredth forty third one.
Rons was busy with his ipod and i was restless., busy making plans to initiate a conversation with her. i turned back again. She was listening songs on her cell now. Goddd!! i truly madly deeply lover her. i  Thought of asking rons for help but feared he will start making fun first, referencing my earlier antics.
I employed every neuron in the brain at full throttle,but really nothing was coming to my mind.
An hour passed like this. After lots of consideration, i decided to say a simple "hi". Collecting strength, i turned back again, held my hand hi enough to say "hi" in the most girly way, but fate had something else to offer. There she was, sleeping, with earphones on, leaning against the window. Air from outside was striking against her face, making her air falling helter skelter on her face. She seemed magical. God can be cruel sometimes.
I was getting mad now,wondering what if she had already someone called someone special. That thought saddened me. Like this four hours passed. Bus stopped at roadside eatery for tea. we got down.
So, any luck with the long lady at back seat?... asked rons
what girl?? with a fake puzzled look
Ha Ha....do you think you can fool your uncle with this kid... you know which girl i am talkin about.
How can you know.... you were listening to your ipod whole time, i said
dude, i wasn't listening with my eyes, anyway leave it, why you haven't talked to her yet, i think she's also into you.
How?
she keeps looking hereafter every ten seconds. she is talkin to her friend but her eyes are really looking here, she'll be easy, just go and say "hi".
but, there are so many people here, what if something goes wrong... i said.
how will something go wrong??? you ain't rapin her mate... no one kills for saying hi...don't think too much, it ain't rocket science, just go and say "hi", said rons in a single breath.
i took a deep breath gathered my courage..... hurry you dumb, stand up and go there.. rons was furius by now.
well, i stood and started towards their table. She glanced at my side, felt like she also knew what i had in mind. I looked at that face again, felt better but luck had other plans. Just as i was about ten meters away from her able, conductor whistled.
Damn....i murmured.
rons was holding his head with his hands.
Bus started again. we're sitting on our seats. Rons pinched me, telling me to say hi to her again.
dude, you got only two hours window now, do something or you gonna blow it up the same way you did with that last gal with short hair....rons was saying
don't mention that...you are making me uncomfortable now...i pleaded.
no! i'm not...just making sure you don't make same mistakes again...he said

i slowly turned again. She also looked at my side, ours eyes met again. i felt uncomfortable again and again turned back.Go, she was killing me with those stares. Time was passing by, rons was continuously mumbling something about me being a coward and i was deplorable.
Soon Chandigarh came. i still did nothing. By now i was having a philosopher's outlook, telling rons that maybe its was like that only, maybe god wished like that only, maybe gods did it for some good.
But actually both of us knew that i was lying. Thought of never seeing her again saddened me. i was silent with a gloomy face on my shoulders, while rons was collecting our bags.
we got down.
walk fast now, you tragedy king, otherwise you'll loose the last bus also now..said rons.
From domestic bus stand, we had to take a local place, unfortunately which was leaving in five minutes. Pacing up, i looked back, she was going towards the interstate bus counters. Maybe they were going to canteen. A sigh escaped my mouth.
we got on our local bus.i was looking outside, watching some kids play in the park nearby.
Don't worry, its always tough to get a girl's number like that.... rons said.
i was silent again.
yaar..its a long life..these pretty faces keep popping up in life..you'll get someone eventually.
dunno yar... i think she was the one... i wanna fall in love once..i said.
if you think she was the one, then she can still catch her...get your ass up and start moving, she'll be out there somewhere....rons said with a saint's ascent.
dunno why i couldn't say hi to her..... i said with a low voice.
because you are a nut....you live as if you have to get character certificate from everyone .Dude no one gives a damn about what you do, there are a billion people out there, no one has time for others, and she's still here, you can still get her.
i closed my eyes. Her face flashed somewhere inside my brain. i really loved her
okay!, i said, lets get her then.
By now, bus had started moving. seeing us coming towards the door, conductor gave us a menacing look. maybe he was also tired after whole day's work.
wrong bus uncle..said me and jumped out of the moving bus and ran after the inter state bus stand.
Rons was behind me.
its like a fuckin yash chopra film..he said breathing fastly.
yaaa..kind off..i smiled.
we're scanning every counter there like sniffer dogs of a bomb squad, but she was nowhere to be seen. But still i was positive, believing that gods couldn't be so harsh.
Okay!! what if she says "no" for her number...i asked rons in a lighter vein.
then i would say that she's a cultured family girl who doesn't entertains loafers like you.
wow, i said..and what if she said yes...
well..in that case..she can be a slut....
whattt..... a slut...no..she isn't a slut... i disapproved instantly.
dude..if a girl gives her number to every tom , dick and harry like that in the first place, then i wouldn't be having a high opinion of her.... said rons.
buddy..whats wrong with you..girls can be good natured too..fond of making friends.....you surely need to improve your mentality towards like the fairer sex.....i said
i dunno..just saying what everyone says and whats practical.... he winked.
There's nothin practical in this moron...its due to blots like you that females suffer so much here. Its people like you, who make this world unsafe for women....
what..now its all my fault..rons said laughingly..dude you are literally raping this girl with your eyes since times immortal and now even after she is gone, you are still chasing her  like dogs and telling
me that my mentality is wrong.
what...i'm not raping her you fool....mine case is different....i'm not like that...
ya ya....if we do then its rape and if you do then its sex...rons said with his hands up in the air.
now don't borrow philosophies here....you know what i felt for her....i said.
well...stop criticizing me and search yours princess....he said thumping his fist on my back.
we searched every nook and corner of bus stand...three times but she was nowhere to be seen.
i was really feeling bad.
Don't worry boy, everything happens for good....rons patted my back.
what's good i it now..i said a bit bitterness in my tone...
well atleast i can't say now that she's a slut with certainity...
i ran after the scoundrel...got him, and punched him hard.
ha ha...now you are channeling your desperation through me....rons said..no issues buddy....its no more a bollywood film... be practical..you should have said earlier...but anyway love = loss.
and how's that?? i asked him...
well...for a start, you lost the girl first, suffered mental agony, and then you lost the last local also...
money is not a problem..i said...
it should be..it buys happiness... rons said

happiness can't be bought with money..i interrupted him...

money can buy anything...he said
and how are you gonna buy happiness with money...
well i would have added a hundred more to the one fifty, which we are going to pay for auto now, and would have banged a girl instead.... he said, frowning his eyebrows...
that's happiness for you...i shrugged my shoulders with a broad smile on my face..
yaaa..it works pretty fine for me....he said with eyes opened to the fullest.
and really at two fifty rupees....damn neat...why don't you do it with goats...you'll get happiness for free....like a cherry on top..i said laughing wildly.
hmm..now the romeo is laughin...he winked..
we reached auto stand.  Moon was shining above...i was still in her hangover, but thanks to rons jokes, i was feeling better now...well.. what to do..i sighed..some other day...some other time...i murmured and got inside the auto.