Episode 9: Do it or leave it

"When we start listening to what our heart says..................!!!!!!!"

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''Do you think twice before giving a smile?'' ''Are your goals, not being achieved that makes you feel sad, most of the time?'' I got it now you have a feeling to achieve something that makes you unique.

What if I give you everything you wanted to achieve, in your life?

May be, a house in a posh, well opened area surrounded by broader,cleaner, roads all around your residence, beautiful street lights twinkling, sparkling in the evening when it gets dawn. A small garden, a coffee house on the roof of your home, opening in front of balcony from where you can feel cool breezy air, trying to kiss your cheeks. With your life partner and your whole family well settled, with a good family earnings making it into pounds.

What else, you would go for, after you feel that you have seen every movie you wanted, every place you wanted to visit on a tour ? Are you still  unhappy? Then it simply means you are not listening to your heart.


We middle class Indians hardly enjoy our lives. Every second or every other moment we are more of, successful in rejecting happiness. Surmounted by several family issues, our heads hardly accept, we can, too be happy. The  best thing, we can learn from western people, is that , they never refuse a single moment which promises them, a chance to enjoy life.  So why be shy ? or scared, in doing something that may make you laugh,a minute or more? 


Somebody is nobody until he expresses his talent. You may be very passionate about your hobbies. Reading, writing, visiting, singing, drawing, dancing or may be you are fond of clicking snaps but as soon as your world is restricted within you, nobody cares what interests you, the most.


Have you ever tried getting wet, in the rain in your crowdy street, knowing your neighbors, would not appreciate it, just because your age has crossed twenty five?

I never wore black goggles, never tried driving even a two wheeler. Using deodorant for a night out birthday party, would make me feel shy. Though I always dreamed of all these, only in my imagination.

No one could beat my singing talent, but my voice never crossed the bathroom boundaries.

I evolved more into, like a serious person though nobody knew I tried few hip-hop dancing steps in a closed room leading to successful failure of my dancing act, at the end.

This is what my teenage appears to me when I look back into my past time. Is every teenager do  like same?Why I never tried all those things that I should have? What stopped me, being what I was, from inside?

When I look back into time, when my childhood prevailed, running into paddy fields, spread-ed over several miles just to catch a colorful butterfly, flying alongside of a long river, may not make any sense to me now.

During monsoon, when it would go dark at noon, everybody in a group would run to collect wind shed-ed ripe mangoes, to fill their hanging bags. Watching rains for hours, getting wet for no reason, would make me happiest in the world.

Catching tiny fishes in still transparent water in a shallow canal, loosing fight for obtaining commonly collected ripe mangoes, would  appear as if we had lost the Mahabharata  battle. But next morning, everyone would be found on a new mission.

Almost every empty house at the offsite of the village, would assume to be ghost house for us. Few of us, would go into the house and speak loud, while remaining would run away very fast listening to echo of their own sound, carrying sandals in their hands. Reaching home, I would keep thinking of that echo,  frightened whole night.

But even then whatever used to happen, or whatsoever type of  feeling, sustained  my childhood mind, was thousand times more rhythmic than those which are presently sustained.

A city life. Run by machines. Day starts with alarm tones and ends with tiring  loads of pending work. Shopping at malls and eating at stalls. If we feel we should laugh we have to wait for finishing assigned tasks.
The fear that boss will grill us, shyness that  people would laugh at us if we do our work this way, will never let you live your life. If people say you are a foolish, you think you are gone and you become prey of your own. 


If trying a torn jeans makes you happy, being weird at looks gives you immense satisfaction, better go for it rather than waiting for somebody to come to you to insist it to happen. 


So do it or leave it but do not hang at interface. Once you pick up your best flair in you, the picked character  definitely will pick you. Once compatibility is established between your happiness and you, no body would dare to, badly deal with you.


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"Many things in life, would happen at times, when they are actually supposed to happen. And this realization changed my perception towards life. Finally I stopped running after things which were not under my control. I started listening to my inner tunes that ask me to follow what my heart wanted, not what my brain desired ."

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Episode 8 : Molding Machines

''It is really a hard core truth that it is only the first teacher who molds you, in a direction that makes you what you are today. This story presents a diversity among teachers who changed my life entirely. I am not an ideal person but still all my goodness that I have ever evolved into, is attributed to them.''

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Everyday she would save five rupee or a ten rupee note, counting or adding up to sixty rupees, that was my first ever decided tuition fee. I didnot know how she could manage this? I remember that day, she gave me a handkerchief in which, few coins were tied along with some folded ten rupee notes and then she asked  me to give it to my first tuition teacher as an advance amount.

It was my first tuition fee she had saved from daily hard home budget. Yes, you are right. She was my mother, my first teacher, who taught me counting, few tables, discipline and patience.

                                    

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She enlisted me on the top of the list as a first child in the entire family to have such a costly private tuition. She made my successful landing on a safe platform. I was handed over to a more simple  but sophisticated, humorous but equally sincere lady. My first official teacher.

She had a style of teaching that was different. She always praised students even if they were bad at work, worst at handwriting. I would not have realized that I was unique if she would not have praised my handwriting. First few alphabets that I wrote on a piece of paper, even though my alphabets pretended different dancing poses.

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I made it to pass, my primary level. I was being admitted to another school for further secondary education. My new sixth standard class teacher was a science teacher. 

I was learning English at home, by my own through a grammar book. Everyday, after learning a sentence from a book,  I used to practice it in my school by using it in the class. 

That day, first period, science teacher was sitting in front of me and one of my friend’s book fell down from  desk, onto the floor. He asked me to pick it up and give it to him. I denied him with an attitude saying ‘’I have not your servant.’’ On hearing to this grammatically incorrect sentence, she called me and said silently, in my ear, “ I am not your servant is the correct version of the sentence.’’

She would have said that in front of class.But she didn't. I learned how to correct people by being polite, secretly and more profoundly. Anger has no essence if you really want to induce corrections in a person. Things can really be effective if considered politely.

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Well what was my ambition was still not clear by the time I had passed my eighth standard. I thought I would  aim to become a good doctor or a more sophisticated engineer as I always used to hear only these few terms, from my parents since my childhood.

                                        

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I too could write, imagine and think. Thanks to my Hindi master, an optimistic creature, who made me realize I am not a bad writer and thinking too much is not hazardous. It puts you into another world. Words become your friends. Black ink becomes most important colour. And yes, it gives you power that can convert  ‘nobody’ into ‘somebody’ through the power of this ink. You are more loved by people, respected by your beloved ones. You feel fully expressed, happy and energetic.

My Hindi was improvising, better than English. He made me a poet. Every line he would read, in the class, from a poem, used to have several different meanings. Really he proved, ‘‘it is, not the circumstances that matter but, the perception towards them that make circumstances odd or even.’’

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 Days passed . I started dreaming more and working less. I became showy, overconfident as  I was continuously being praised by my teachers.

 I dropped my one year, thinking I would crack the national medical exam for M.B.B.S. But I failed. Got stressed out I thought life was finished rendering me totally into a big ambiguity about my carrier.

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I applied for university. Got admission in a good college. First orientation class. An old lady, introducing the department and faculty said, ‘We all here , not to compete with others but with ourselves.’’ This sentence though sounded very familiar but made me to promise myself to follow it.

When I saw the high class environment , in the campus, I started feeling more inferior and less prestigious. My focus changed from academics. I started spending more time trying to  adjust to a friend circle which was not, of my economic standard.

I went more reckless, disgusting and extremely careless about my studies, hobbies etc. Hence I hardly scored more than sixty percent.

Genetics class, afternoon period, that dedicated, sincere lady was busy, in drawing some flow diagram on board. Extreme corner desk, last table, I was continuously talking, murmuring with my friend, thinking she is not watching the conversation as for me her presence was an optical illusion.

After the class was over, she called my friend into the staffroom, and said to him, "You are a good student but if you continue sitting with Pawan, you will not remain a good student.’’

On hearing to this, a deep sense of insult pinched my self esteem. I felt I was better before the way I was. I pledged I will not change my positive or qualities which defined my identity. I started studying day and night. This had never happened before. I topped my college with a rise in percentage from sixty four to eighty four, scoring highest in genetics. My original lost identity was restored.

Thanks to her as she induced a superlative change in me, that helped, restoring my identity.

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As my masters finished, I thought I would get a good place to work. It was not easy as I thought. After passing through a stage when all ways were closing down, things were getting worst. I was denied , dragged, defeated by my own incapabilties. I had started thinking if my all educational journey would go waste if I was not able to get a good place to work in. So when I had nothing left as a hope, when I was broken, down, and denied. Suddenly a hope flashed. God sent a miracle lady into my life. She made me realize that I was still unique, honest, intelligent, common like others but different. My present research supervisor who secured my incoming few years to venture into research as her student. A very sophisticated  lady with very focused attitude about her quality work.

Surrounded by such teachers, surmounted by their supervision, I feel, I always wanted to become a good teacher. Whatever I extracted positive from these marvellous creatures, I tried to transfer to my students. My ongoing teaching at my home, encompassing twenty to thirty students every year, for past six years have helped me to evolve into a new identity. 

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''Whatever I have learned, accumulated, or have gathered during course of my journey either being as a student to as a teacher, is the result of continuous molding efforts of my teachers.And one thing that was common to all them, was that all of them were  good human beings who were less professional and more practical.''

Episode 7 : Silent Speaker

              ''Change'' is a slow phenomenon  and life is too small to realize it."

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Her presence will grasp you and she promises to induce many changes in you. She speaks occasionally. But when she starts, no body speaks, not because people are scared of anything but just because people find her talks, amusing.

Routine practical classes, everybody was busy in their group talks. Six to seven groups in a class. Professor had already given instructions and had left out. Loud jokes were being cracked . Some groups were at  serious talks, academic types and rest were busy,  in performing silly things like wandering in and out, of the class.

Majority in this class believed, if their attendance was taken, so there was no point in performing the experiment. So it was normal if you find, more students at tea stalls than in the class.

As a keen observer, I was busy in looking at students, in the class.

Extreme corner desk, a girl looked pretty calm, carrying a test tube and a piece of paper, with some calculation stuff, written on it and busy in organizing all equipments which she might need to perform her task. But she was alone in the sense, no body in her group,  had an intention to work out on the experiment.

I asked , " Why are you so bothered about the experiment as no body cares and even look at the stuff you do? ''

She smiled and just smiled and continued working, with no answer in return.

It was shocking to me because I actually realized what she wanted to say without actually speaking it.
Her ''Work'' seemed more important than answering and debating me.

Day was over but the actual awakening had just begun.


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Next morning, first lecture, room number thirty seven. Cell biology Professor asked few questions. I approached to answer, the very first. Very proud feeling as if I had conquered the ''Nobel''. No body knew, the answer came from my old notes, kept underneath the table which only few people, could see, from the back.
But anyway, I was successful, in impressing the professor and in pretending, I was the genius.

Time had started cooking the story. It had been only three days, professors started calling me, by my name.
I was approached upon, by many of my classmates, for my friendship. My inner man said , '' I am the genius just because I had topped my bachelor college.''

But being in masters, was different. Well, who cared as  my vanity used to shake me off, all day and night.

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Seventh day of this drama and dance of extreme fake pride, I was heading to arts faculty lawn, in the neighbor zone, to have my lunch, with many of my new friends including the girl who was silent and composed most of the  time.

Everybody sat on grass. Finished the lunch and decided to play a game called 'Truth and Dare' where a bottle was rotated and a question was asked from the person where pointed,  the stopped bottle's neck mark.

But when I was  caught in the game, by chance, instead of being asked, everybody said me, to pose a question which I would like to ask, from everybody sitting on grass.

I asked everybody to tell me five positives and five negatives about me. Everybody amused me with their answers. The butter melted more smoothly than I had imagined it would, with no salt.

Last turn, the silent girl said, '' I don't speak lies so I would not amuse you but will prefer being direct at talk."

'' You are a person who show off, a lot'', added the lady. I don't know why I did not cross question her,  may  be my heart accepted she was not wrong.

Assembly ended with a partial clarification of what she had just said. The talk had a severe impact rendering me, unable to stop thinking about it, the whole night.

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I wanted to clarify and get more noticed by this  girl as she was least interested in my company. It pinched my brain off. So, I joined her group.

A girl with extreme intelligency, at calculating work as if approaching accuracy was in her top priority lists, no matter if experiment finishes very late in the evening. Patience and determination WITHOUT any attitude.
I could not believe how deep thinker was she.

Experiment failed even after pouring the whole stamina into it , that day but still  she would not write anything fake in record file even if she worked hard and experiment failed. Her silence was more powerful than anything,  which might not need any vocal words to complement.

I started calling her, '' The Silent Speaker''.

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I remember, that examination morning, everybody carried thick, well presented, highly organised record files enlisting all experiments, performed, during the whole semester. I was very stressed out as my index page was missing. I went to see her for  helping  me in   noting down,  index dates.

Again I was shocked to see, what her register file contained. Only six or seven pages encompassing only five index entries. On being questioned she answered, ''Since she has not done experiments actually so she has not pen down those in file''. Simultaneously she laughed at her file too but I was amazed on what she  had just said as I could not see a single  mark of stress on her forehead.

I thought she would loose marks but examiners were impressed with her viva. May be her hard work had paved the way to examiners brains.

She again, conveyed what she wanted, but through her own style. And everybody had to believe that she was right.

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By now I had changed drastically. I felt more calm, less annoyed as  I realized what a true essence of being ''an educated person'' was.

I started focusing on being more realistic towards life and less towards being fake. Though I went far away from the competition stuff in the class but started conceiving real education that had nothing to do with marks but with true wisdom of knowledge.



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 Now I prefer being called as back bencher or an average scorer. But I feel the change that has seeded into me, is marvelous.

I feel graced for the fact ''The Life'' presented me such an incredible silent speaker into my life, as a friend.



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 She used to say, "  Have patience to induce positive changes in somebody's character, by producing the best of your polite efforts,  though, this may take time but believe me it happens''.

Special Episode 6: American Connection

They call it as ''A Journey of Faith and Healing' but I consider it, as 'a continuous state of war between 'Fear and Hope'. Kathleen Steele, an american woman whose marvelous determination and optimism towards life, makes her, an amazing woman. A lady from Santa Rosa, California who had to quit the post of an executive director of a nonprofit agency in San Mateo County and had to  sell the house to get her children's treated for the 'Lyme Disease', had no option left other than believing in herself and the 'God Almighty'. 




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Darkness. A small room where rests only fear, but still  a feeling of deep hope prevails in one corner of the same room. A pure soul in a body that feels pain, everywhere in and on the body. Skin allergic to light, ears fail to identify own mother's voice. Every joint pains and combing hairs irritates. Dannie, this is what, she prefer being called as, has 'Lyme Disease'. 




Away from the home country San Carlos, California, she resides and spends whole of a day and night, in a building which she has not got a chance to see it, atleast from the outside. Doctors and staff at 'NuTech Media World' a stem cell clinic at Green Park Extension, Delhi, hope to deliver and rejuvenate the eternal smile which  this girl's face is missing.


A creeping loneliness, desperately trying to grasp her upto a point where she finds herself loosing  every single hope. But hope has to win over in any case as her mother, won't let it happen.


Meet this amazing mother Kathleen Steele who had to quit her prestigious post as an executive director of a nonprofit agency in San Mateo County, and had to sell her house to get the treatment of her children done, suffering from Lyme Disease. 




May 2005, changed everything that related  her children's life. A pipe burst and seepage in the house that spread-ed the mold infection and a tick bite victimized Ari and Dannie making them  inhabit lyme disease.


 Ari and Dannie lost their social lives. Their long  indoor staying schedules caused their social friends to disappear. For many  years they received treatment for other falsely identified diseases as many of the symptoms mimicked the other diseases.


The journey took them from California to India.


Hats off to the mother who used to spend, almost whole of her day schedule,  in organizing and arranging for the medicines, crossing thousands of dollars a month. 


Ari is a very decent, well behaved american who is just twenty four. He is still very passionate about cars.  As a normal human being, he too wants to raise children and live a happy life. 


Even after the fact he is identified with the Lyme disease, he holds a firm faith that one day his life would become better and will be back on the track. A multitalented young boy who could be seen actively participating in extracurricular stuffs during his childhood school tenures, is very isolated now and away from his social friends.


When I met this family I realized, what a 'heart to heart' connection means . On  a coffee, Ari told me  his mother too have 'Lyme Disease' but she is more concerned about her children's cures, no matter what its consequences can be, if she does not recieve the treatment.


The chief lady doctor,  at the clinic,  is very straight forward,  in telling about medical consequences of any treatment or procedure, Dannie is going through, so she prefer being direct at talk.


But a mother is a mother. So if tears started wetting Kathleen eyes, it was natural.
I remember when Ari held his mother's hand and pretended to be very strong hearted  than her,  when doctor said, ''the higher dose of a  recently administered dose to Dannie, may keep her at somewhat higher risk of heart problems.''


On this note there was a pin drop silence and it appeared, things were going out of control but again, I must say the God is great, in the sense he chose me,this time to produce my presence before this family.


Suddenly it clicked my mind. I had recently visited 'The Sai Baba' temple, the same morning before I met this family, on the same day. I took out, two  spiritual roses from my bag and offered it to mother Kathleen telling her that these roses  symbolized my faith in  God. Thank God as this could breakup the negative silence and could rejuvenate the hope once again as I could see it, in her eyes. She rushed with roses to keep those, at Dannie's bed corner side.
She didn't want to delay a second.


Ari's body is doing well but on Dannie's counterpart this stem cell therapy seems complicated.
Even after the numerous side effects, doctors at clinic are enthusiastically optimistic as they say she will definitely  improve. 


It cannot be, only a mere fact of coincidence if I say God has chosen India, to be included as a very important chapter in their lives. Again it seems as if the God has signaled  that he is looking after this family, by coinciding Kathleen's birthday with his 'Easter  Sunday' a day that symbolized the return or resurrection of God Jesus.


  
Spirituality is the best gift which our country can offer to this family so I am trying my best to connect and in case it is perfectly blended with prayers, then I feel each warrior of this family shall win over  fear of anything to everything.


Ari's second phase of treatment has started and Dannie's treatment has just begun. Dannie is showing little signs of improvements but at a very slow rate.


I have a firm faith , we all including me,  Ari, Dannie and Kathleen will be able to meet over a coffee soon,  in next incoming months and this struggling phase in their life will be over soon .


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"God plans everything, decide events, allow people to meet at random  and believe me he sets all these coincidences to prove that he exists and hence,' hope and faith' has to win over any kind of  fear,  no matter , if it takes longer to heal but it has to heal."

Episode 5: Attention Seeking Syndrome

"A patient meets another patient, former being a victim of "Attention Seeking Syndrome" and other well perfected in spreading a rumor. If you just pass nearby him he will definitely catch you. He has evolved a lot and attacked on many just through the words. If you think you can escape I can  bet you on that. And in case your brains start ringing up even then you have to have your smiley faked. He will tell you everything though you can add your sentences, but only at few times in case if he breathes. His brain pets a worm I call it an attention seeking syndrome."

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 Hey! How dare you to sneeze? Don't you know the person at next window at neighborhood  is counting it. Don't give him a chance to capture you.

Oops! You are captured just in the morning. Morning at seven with an intention to victimize, he starts following you from the  back with his full stored potential accumulated over night. Oh man ! fasten your footsteps otherwise you will miss your breakfast. Don't even try to pretend you have seen him coming.Who  asked you to visit the dairy shop knowing he will be enjoying  reading  newspaper that's too the borrowed one at  corner down steps encompassing the dairy shop.


"Give me a liter of milk, a packet of baked breads and a quarter of cheese", said the man to the shopkeeper. This small sentence was more than enough for that bulky man sitting at the corner down steps to attack on me. His protocol to satisfy his thirst had just started.

Using his pet sentences he began, " How less you buy for your breakfast stuff?" I murmured and pretended as if I was in still bed, smashed my eyes and yawned.

Thank God this time I was saved from his boring vocal chord attacks.

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While going on my way to routine lab, I forgot to carry my wallet. Returning half way back towards my home accidently we faced each other once again, this time I was not prepared.


"He is very brilliant, talented and hardworking, going to become a future scientist" he said these words to a lady loudly to amuse me. I knew his technique, well, it was not new at all. He continued talking and I continued standing till  he withdrew all of my glucose. Drastically horrible.

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Somebody in the street had bought a new car and this man had a problem with the color.A new issue , that was on peak  of discussions. He has stories from his house. You can not deny him to telling and repeating. You have to suffer if he starts.


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Thank God, a complementary version who could beat this guy verbally too existed in the same locality. God is smart in sense he always makes pieces in complement. He had already perfected in spreading rumors with such a great and speedy delivery no one can bet to defeat him.

Something interesting clicked my brain I used my strategy to synthesize a story against him before this rumor man.

Hey it worked amazingly when this other guy who was fond of rumoring things  met the former piece.

 I was there too, enjoying the scenes that cured their diseases. Rumor man started telling his rumors to other guy without knowing that the rumors he delivered belonged to the same person he was talking too.

They debated,shouted got annoyed from each other. Scene lasted for an hour or so. Everybody enjoyed it across the street.

I knew what I had done but I had no guilt as if the whole locality was desperately waiting for this to happen. Meanwhile I rushed to my house avoiding as if I had no role. 

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                        "Its good to be naughty at some points in case it cures somebody" :_)

Episode 4: Believe Me Love Is Incurable

''A saga of a lady who chose "Power to Reject" things that society, imposed on her forcibly,  knowing that it would develop into, a deep pain and finally  put her into a situation where she would be only and only, surrounded by extreme loneliness. A lady who knew how pure her love was and she couldn't stop herself getting infected with an incurable love."

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A fourteen year old girl was being married to a guy who had just turned up sixteen. I remember the day when I met this lady. I couldn't see her face as it was covered with her long yellow aanchal ( a kind of veil) as she was going to follow up, the long  marriage ceremonial customs which lasted for eight  hours.
I enjoyed the ceremony just being as one of the groom's relative.

 The  ceremony ended smoothly that day.

Days passed. I was back home in Delhi.

It had been only three months for that marriage, I remember the day when  some of my relative's friend, told me, on a call that the groom had been missing, for nine days. He told me that the groom was not happy with the lady, he was married to as she had some defect in one of her eyes that made her look, not beautiful before her husband.

I went totally unsatisfied to the excuse, the husband made, that might had been rumored otherwise.

Twelve years passed. He didn't return.
                                                               
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Coincidentally, I had to visit the same village for attending one more marriage ceremony, so I got a chance to meet this family but this time I was very much concerned . I went to see the family though after a long time period.
                                                               
I approached the family and as soon as they identified me, I asked about the issues,I was interested in.

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It had been only fifteen minutes, I started talking, I was stunned to see that same married woman, worshiping the Lord Shiva.

As far as the rumor that used to describe her, was exactly opposite, she looked.

A beautiful fair lady wearing yellow saree ( Indian traditional dress) with a soft spoken, very impressive vocal sounds, asked me for a tea.

I was amazed as she had not been remarried but was still working as an ideally married  woman with no complains, with no  impression of being alone or any kind of lamentations. Her smiling gestures were totally unforgettable.

She believed he would return. She behaved as everything was normal.

She had no words of complaints with anybody, in the house. Waking up at five, in the early morning, finishing the  home tasks, was her daily routine including a rigorous continuous worship stuff lasting for two hours.

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Though she was not educated much, neither she was bad at communication. She might have inherited or acquired the essence of believing in pure love from her paternal family. She had nothing to keep with her except the hope.

I remember when she said, " God is great, and I have been believing in him since I started understanding my relationships, so God has no option left  other than taking my harsh tests."

I really had to bow before the lady for what she just had said. Speechless.

How come a lady could have such a deep and firm faith for a person who may or may not be alive as twelve years of time span, may not be small enough  for the faith to continue.

                                                                    .................

This episode would not have been complete until last december if  something that shook my head, would not has happened .


                                                                   ..................

The boy returned. He was caught pouring spiritual offerings in holy river Ganga in Haridwar. He was totally a transformed saint by now who had quit-ted  the materialistic world with completely lost desire of being into family relations.

Long haired, deep entangled mustache with dense hairs covering  half of his face. This is how he looked. He was forcibly taken home by two people who recognized him, at Haridwar.

This couldn't be a mere fact of coincidence that  he was caught by his relatives but was, the strength of the lady whose soul was tied with her husband.

 On being questioned, about his family and his wife, husband said, " While he was coming back to that day from Delhi to the village, he was attacked upon, by some trains looters who robbed him, for everything he had and then they threw him off the running train and then he lost his consciousness. Next morning, few saints found him on their way and took him, to a hospital and sold , all of their belongings to save his life. When he was back into his conscious they proposed him to choose, out of two paths, one that leads to materialistic life and other that requires to be sworn into the life of saints.He owed his life to them and he became a saint."



But the love of the lady was more powerful than the essence of being a saint. So he was caught. Now he seems to have accepted her deep love and hence he is back in her life.



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     " So the silent pains from which the lady was internally suffering had to halt"

Episode 3 : Parents Unsophisticated

"Are you a struggling creature from a middle class family trying to establish yourself in the society? Well ! Its always good to prove your affinities but not at the cost of temporal isolation from your parents. Oh!You will say now you have a very busy schedule so you hardly get a couple of minutes to share with your parents. 

Do your parents often complain  about your schedules and what if they deny meeting you in case you get to manage few hours of your so called busy schedule to have a word with them? Oh! Your sophistication sucks. Here I present a short  shared experience in my life that teaches us to value parental presence." 

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Suresh, a twenty and half year old guy, lucky and fortunate to have both parents assisting him in every small way they could so that he could succeed in meeting his life goals.

His mother even after being a diabetic for last ten years runs a small sewing center stitching ladies stuff. A thick pair of hanging eye glasses pretending to cover up very clear dark and patchy scars under her eyes. Thanks to hectic sewing schedule that has invariably developed into severe neck pain. 

Father remains busy most of the time selling vegetable stuffs though he also owns a small shop selling fruits products but being at extreme corner of the street, shop hardly benefits family.

It has been years if all of three have dined together as there always existed a rare probability of meeting at one time, believe me they all stay under same roof. 

How often you have been through a situation where you see your father but have no time to  talk even a word to spell for him, just because you are in a run to reach your working place?

The only dream Suresh  had ever imagined was to provide his parents with the best delicacy no one had ever received. 

For his parents the world is just confined within the limited spatial boundaries. They don’t even have any idea about kind of diversity that does exist outside their confinements his parents have created. 

They have never been to theatre, good parks, never bought a minute thing even from a sophisticated mall.

 Most surprisingly they spend 18 hours of a day trying to adjust and compromise in solving family issues.This is what actually prevails in every low or moderate middle class family. 

 So who else should owe assurance for their fainted desires and happiness? 

Resurrecting their lost original identity may not be as  easy to mention herein.

What if your parents are not educated much? How to vanish the communication gaps if it exists? 

These were of few questions Suresh started to find answers for.

Day 16, January 2011, Suresh cracked a national level entrance securing a handsome scholarship. Life took a turn for better. His salary was more than sufficient to earn happiness for his parents .

But Suresh's excess spending habit was by the time becoming trendy. Having a coffee at Costa or Cafe coffee day was now affordable. Dining at costly restaurants became a daily routine. 

He could hardly save anything for his family. So his parents continued working.

One evening when Suresh returned back home from work he found his parents missing. Things were burnt into the house because of the fire that broke into  the house. 

Both of his parents were critically admitted in hospital as he was told by the neighbors.

He rushed for a taxi to see his parents.

Thanks to God! It was not a severe accident but the incident was equally severe to leave its impact on Suresh.

Now his routine has changed dramatically. Now he spends few hours with parents talking, caring and prefer dining together and it is not very surprising to mention that they even go to theaters now. Giving a warm water-oil neck massage is helping his mother healing neckpain.

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 "So what I have realized  personally is  that owing few small things, sharing few hours can do a little but it’s really not that self-sufficient to value what our parents deserve. "

Episode 2 : Education Crystallized

"India needs more schools than malls, less pubs than book stalls."

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A group of school boys in a local Delhi bus, with upper top shirt button opened, loosened  necktie, pants swinging or stuck at waist bones and hairs spiked with a hard gel,  were enjoying passing comments on college girls going sideways along the roads and in the bus.


Though the bus had enough space to accommodate, but who bothers if any of the doorstep hanging school guy falls off the bus. You have to believe me with no choice left when I say this is the kind of crowd you will find in twenty first century urban city schools in India.


Almost every high school student, now,  has a mobile phone in pocket no matter if he has books missing in bag.


Some of them enjoy chewing tobacco stuff too. Teachers seem to loose their capture, control and punish policy and if anyone tries the policy, he is himself or herself in danger of loosing the teaching game as numerous laws entails more security to a student than they do in teacher's favour.


Even after IT revolution that promises to change India's face through electronic interventions, it is equally enigmatic to understand how a middle class man who cannot afford  two time good quality meals to survive, can now offer  mobile phones to his school going children to handle. 




After five hours of stay in school, every student on an average goes to a private tuition where the tuition master has to bear all of his or her responsibilities. Some of tuition masters may even be found  claiming to guarantee their student"s performance what astrology they follow I have no clues.  


Forget about class assignments and exams as recently Indian government has confidently made a rule that protects all failures upto eighth standard  to be recognized. It seems funny but believe me no student can be officially failed till this standard no matter if it takes years to pass next high standard where such rules are arbitrary to establish.


With ninety students in a thirty by thirty room having a single teacher entertaining an hour or so, just to take attendance may not be a funny scene to mention. But don't worry government is spending huge lumpsum  on higher education. But what if primary education system has its roots corroded. No body bothers.


In Lieu of that the important assets that are missing include strongly rooted self sufficient primary platforms that ensure the quality education but present scenario says that India has a long way to go to see this happen.






















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Episode 1 : A Girl Who Had No Option To Choose

Even after India has got its first lady president, the condition of women's status, still requires a strong boost up to secure its prestigious value that is still missing in present Indian scenario. This real time story puts up a severe question against security issues of a girl child. This story has been presented from the perspective viewpoint of a six months old girl child who lost her father by the time she had hardly grown enough to understand what different relations meant to her.

"Listen Sangeeta,  I hope you are gonna deliver a girl child soon, this week as your date is approaching'' said the father.
   Sangeeta smiled and asked how sure he was that she would  have a girl child delivered.

"I have been praying for this for long to Lord Shiva and believe me if it happens I will not ask him to fulfil any other remaining desire in my life ahead," added the father.

I was graced to hear all this when my father expressed his deep love about me especially for a girl child as it was a rare phenomenon in my middle class family. I had no words to express my happiest state. I was in  my mother's womb by the time, my father urged his eternal attachment for me.

As soon as, a week passed, my mother cried and complained for a severe pain. I had no intention to make her suffer but it was natural.

July 25, 2006. I opened my eyes for the first time in the world. I was not welcomed much into the family. In fact  I saw compromised smiley on the faces of the family members. Well, I was the first child of my generation in the joint family having fourteen members in count. 

Truth of being a girl child was a fortunate or an unfortunate thing to consider, I had no answer.

But my father looked highly exclaimed with happiness. It seemed his ultimate desire of life had accomplished.

About five and  half of month passed. I was being trained to learn to identify different family members and their different ways of expressing  love, for me.
I enjoyed being into the family.

I remember that day when  my father told my mother that the family was going for a vacation next morning. Things happened accordingly. The whole family including me, headed for the village, reaching next evening.

It seemed as there was a marriage ceremony that lasted for four days. On the day bride farewell ceremony finished, everybody in the house looked calm and relaxed as a big function was over.
It was my father's dearest cousin marriage.

Within two hours of this function that had finished, my father complained severe sudden headache.
Everybody in the house rushed for a taxi. He was taken to the hospital.

Next morning ...


My grandfather received a phone call. He fainted as soon as he attended it. Somebody from the village sent a  message  into the home, silently and from then, I could not understand why everybody in the house was screaming and crying loudly.

I had never seen my mother into such a state before. It appeared as if she had lost something very precious. Well what it was, I had no idea.

And from then changed almost everything that related my life.

By that time I was just six months old child, on the day, my father died. 

I even had not started understanding what different relations meant to me. For me the world was just simple and raw to accumulate.

I could only differentiate good versus bad people only by their friendly or unfriendly gestures. I had to make a guess when my mother cried for my father that day, something had gone bad.

  I cried just because my mother cried and got back to normal when my uncle took me into his lap.

Few days passed my eyes used to search my father but I had no idea that he would never return.

As time passed my stored memories fainted. Now I could hardly recall that my father was missing. Now I had started recognizing new people in the house.

My maternal grandfather suggested a new marriage  proposal for my mother. 

It was totally a  rubbish proposal as it had been only fifteen days my father died.

Surprisingly my mother agreed without family consent. It appeared she had no concerns for me otherwise she would have rejected the proposal at least for the time being.

Nobody in the house even had the issues about my future perspective.

My mother started many arguments frequently in the house with my grandmother every, day and night. I could not understand why she shouted on my grandmother, as she too had  lost her precious son. So there was no point in shouting at her anyway.

No body had problem in the remarriage stuff but it was too early to take a decision. My mother didn't care for any sentiments, I hope my father wasn't watching all this.

My mother asked for my father's share in the property. But, family denied.

No body asked me what I wanted. Care, love, affection and attachment like words had lost their essence for me. I could only acquire hatred, disrespect and insecurity as no body cared for me. Believe me I was just six months old by that time.

I felt if I would have been a boy child my mother hadn't wished for her second marriage. But what if even my mother was least interested in me.

Indian Flavors Of Middle Class

"Indian  Flavors Of  Middle Class" is a small collection of different real time stories  which find their indispensable place in Indian Society. It includes different tastes of circumstances  in the lives of millions of Indian middle class people. Lack of resources, financial crises and inability to fight against poverty are the few elements that provoked me to ignite a spark in the society through the power of ink and print. Many of the stories discussed in this compilation pertain to my original personal experiences that accumulated over time and with developing intimacy with my middle class friends. Many of us are aware of the problems that we usually face in our lives but very few people have a perception to bring these issues for society benefits. Poverty is the barrier that limits actions and can convert a capable man to an incapable one no matter what plethora of ideas he or she contains as soon as there is no lack of self realization."

Being born in a low middle class family, the most unusual thing that usually used to pinch me off was my inability to connect people from two different facets of life. One side comprising that of my poor friends and another including my so called high profile sophisticated friends. But their faith in me always inspired me to bridge this gap between these two facets.So I decided if a small thought can bring a revolution in actions then why not eradicate the feel bad factor and bring things into focus for the sake of emancipation no matter on what scale, small or tremendous. I hope this effort would inspire its readers.