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Recent Posts
 09:04 | 22/Jul/2008 | 21 Comment(s)
When They Got Married

When they got married, both of them brought in their dreams into their marriage.




After the engagement and before the marriage, which is naughtily called as probation period by some people, Sujit, during one of those meetings at restaurents, had asked his fiancee, “How do you want me to be after our marriage? Do I have to change myself in any manner?”




Happy that he had asked such a good and sensible question, Anu said, “I want you to be more responsible and careful. And most importantly I want you to help me in cooking as you know I have never enetered our kitchen so far.”




Sujit smiled. “Don’t worry, dear. I know cooking well; we together will rein our kitchen department”. 



She felt very happy with his assuring response and asked in return, “What about me? Are you expecting any changes in me?”




“Yeah, give me a little freedom; don’t rebuke me if I come home late or go out with friends. You already started putting restrictions on my food.”




“Ohhh!!!” Anu laughed. “I am worried about your health baba; you eat a lot of junk food.”




“Ok! One more thing,” her fiance continued. “I want you to be a little romantic. You cringe away when I hold your hands as if I am a monster.”




Anu blushed. “Our hero is having designs…hah?”




Sujit thought she looked cute blushing. He wanted to see more redness in her cheeks. “I want simple things in life. One goodbye kiss while going to office and another after coming back from office”.




Anu blushed more. “Ok, hero. Your wish is granted.”




Thus our hero and heroine got married and the heroine, as usual, moved to the city where the hero was working. Everything was new for the new couple. New experinces, new relations, new home, new freedom, new restrictions and new all.




“I have to find a new job here,” Anu complained to her husband one day. “I have to attend all those calls and interviews again.”




“You will get it soon, dear. This city needs your talent,” Sujit encouraged her.




Within two months, Anu did get a brand new job and felt very excited on the morning of the joining day. “Sujit, will you make breakfast today? I am very confused and worried about the first day,” she asked her husband trying to shake him out of his slumber.



 


“Come on, Anu! Don’t act as if it is your first job. Let me sleep today; last night I slept late.”




‘Hmmmm…these days you are becoming a guinea pig; you do nothing but eat and sleep,” Anu grumbled and hurried into the kitchen to make breakfast.




Sujit gave a deaf ear to her accusations and woke up promptly when she completed the breakfast. “Omlet is deilicious,” he complemented his wife at breakfast. In response, she stared at him angrily.




Anu wore her white formal shirt and black trousers, applied light makeup on her face and coloured her lips red with a lipstick.




“You are looking very beautiful.” Sujit looked at her adoringly. “I will drop my beautiful wife at her office today.”




“Not only today; you should drop me every day,” Anu said picking up her handbag.




“Sure darling! Seems you are still angry with me for not making breakfast,” Sujit said taking her face into his hands.



 “What are you doing?”she questioned pushing his hands away.




“Goodbye kiss, dear!”




“Sujit, can’t you see I am wearing lipstick? It would be smudged all over my face.”




“Oh baby! Don’t do this to me. How can I work in the office if you don’t give me the energy kiss?”




Anu stared at him for a second, as if sizing him up and then said, “Ok, only a gentle kiss. Remember this is my first day and I don’t want to be seen with smudged lipstick.”




“I know.” Sujit lowered his face onto her and pressed his lips into hers in a tender squeeze. But, then he suddenly removed his face away from hers.




“What happened?” Anu asked, puzzled with his sudden reaction.




“Whack...” he made a face. “What lipstick you are using?”




“Strawberry-flavoured! You don’t like it?”



 “Horrible! Why don’t you use normal one without any flavours?”




“Hmm…seems you have an aversion to the strawberry aroma.”




“Maybe! Please use normal one from tomorrow onwards,” Sujit said.



 “Ok sir! Shall we go now? Otherwise I would be late on my first day,” Anu pointed him to the door.




They came out. “Your lipstick spoiled my mood,” he grumbled, starting his two-wheeler.




Anu sat in the back seat and lovingly unruffled her husband’s hair. She was smiling inwardly. Like all wives, Anu too knew how to make her husbnad enter the kitchen and help her enormously. She was never going to give up her strawberry-flavoured lipstick, at least untill he started waking up early in the morning and making her a cup of hot tea. This was just the beginning, dear!



 


 



P.S: I am dedicating this story to my friend on whose true experinces this story is based.

Permalink 
 11:00 | 16/Jul/2008 | 30 Comment(s)
When Heart Stops

Still there was no pulse! ‘What else I have to do to make the patient’s heart beat again?’ Ramesh asked himself desperately and racked his brain, in the hope he had forgotten some important step or activity he had been taught in his medical college for saving a heart attack patient. But, no! No ideas were coming to his stupid mind.


 


For the past fifteen minutes, the doctor and the nurse had been performing Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation and Artificial Respiration on the patient, but still no result. They had very less time. Ramesh’s hands were working steadily on the unconscious patient. The heel of his one hand was on the patient’s breastbone. He placed his other hand on the first hand and pushed down forcefully, bringing all his pressure into his hands. He was applying and releasing the pressure at a fast rate. The duty nurse on the other hand was administering artificial respiration.


 


‘Why am I alone tonight?” Ramesh thought miserably. ‘Why such a critical case on this rainy day?’


 


Just out of college, Ramesh had joined this small hospital one month back as a trainee doctor and was already on night shifts for the past ten days. His routine was accompaying the senior doctor on his normal rounds, checking the inpatients and giving out new or modified prescriptions. There had been no emergency cases. But, on this unfortunate day, the senior doctor could not reach office due to heavy rains and the hospital got an emergency case. ‘Why had not this poor fellow slept peacefully as the whole world was sleeping now?’ Ramesh lamented. ‘Why could not this be a normal night like the previous nights?’ Hey man! This is not the time to think your stupid thoughts, Ramesh chided himself. You must save this patient at any cost. A person cannot die in your hands, doctor!


 


Just then, another nurse entered the ICU room and whispered in despair, “Sir, we are unable to reach Dr. Rakesh or any other doctor. Still all phones are dead.” Dr. Rakesh was a cardiologist.


 


Ramesh nodded his head. He knew he had to handle this case alone. He was frantically working on the patient.  All his concentration was on the heart; he had to make it work at any cost. He would not let his patient die.


 


There was actually a very thin line between being alive and being dead, Ramesh realized at the moment. And he perceived that line through his first major patient when he, the patient, began to breathe in air with a start. Yes, his heart started beating!


 


All in the room, Ramesh and nurses, gave a sigh of relief. Ramesh immediately turned the patient to one side so that nothing would block his windpipe from breathing. When he saw the rise and fall of the patient’s chest, Ramesh’s heart filled with pride. He had saved a person’s life today. His first patient’s life! He gave him a new life. But, along with happiness and pride, Ramesh was going through a roller coaster of emotions. Just a few moments before, how wretchedly helpless, ignorant, and half-learned he had felt! There was a whole family pinning all its hopes on him as if he were a God who would bring back breath into their beloved. And he was there with a new MBBS degree in his hands and just one month of experince and waiting for some other doctor to come to his rescue. What he had done was CPR and Artificial Respiration, which anybody could do with some training and practice. No need to study MBBS. What addition he had done for saving this poor patient? Many questions began to gnaw through Ramesh’s mind. This night taught him a great lesson, which was not taught by any professor in the college. He discovered the significance and meaning of his profession. And its enormous need for human kind! Life is a most valuable and expensive thing in the universe! And a doctor should be omniscient, omnipresent and omnipotent.


 


Ramesh observed the pleasant emotions played on the face of the patient’s wife when she saw her husband alive and those grateful eyes of the patient’s children and brothers and sisters when they glanced at him, the doctor, the saviour. Ramesh experinced the pleasure a very few lucky people in the world, the doctors, experince after saving a life. How much joy was there in his profession of saving lives!


 


 


When the rain subsided in the wee hours of the morning, Dr Rakesh was called in and he declared, after examining thoroughly, the patient was completely safe and advised the family to keep him in hospital for one day under observation.


 


Ramesh left the hospital only after when he heard from Dr. Rakesh that the patient was safe. And he returned to his night duty earlier than usual and went first to the ward where the heart patient was placed.


 


The poor fellow was lying on the bed accompanied by his wife at the foot of the bed. She was telling him encouraging words when Ramesh went inside. “How are you feeling?” he asked the patient, with a big smile on his face. But the man on the bed did not reply, just stared at the doctor, sad and dejected.


 


“He is worrying too much,” said the wife in a low sad voice. “He was too frightened to even talk or take a little walk.”


 


Ramesh looked into his patient’s eyes and said reassuringly, “Nothing to worry. Take some precautions and you will live for hundred years.”


 


The doctor and the patient’s eyes were locked for some time. Then, at last, the patient opened his mouth. “Will I live doctor?” he asked in a low quivering melancholy voice. “Can I see my children’s marriage? Can I play with their kids?”


 


At that moment, he himself looked like a small kid to Ramesh. The doctor in Ramesh knew his patient needed something more than injections and drugs. He smiled and gently slipped his right hand into the patient’s right hand and gave him a tender squeeze. The patient’s lips parted slightly into a half smile.


 


Ramesh put his other hand on his shoulder and lifted him slowly. “Hold my hand and take small steps,” he said.


 


Without any resistance, the depressed patient held his doctor by the right hand in a firm grip and took small steps along with him. With each step the man began to gain confidence. He gained confidence that his heart would not cease to work if he walked. He gained confidence that his heart would not stop working if he laughed along with his wife and children. He gained confidence that the doctor was there for him if anything happened to him again.


 


At the same time, the doctor’s heart leapt with joy. He felt as if he was the father of the baby taking gentle steps beside him. His baby’s firm grip on his hand was telling him he was much needed for his baby’s confidence and safety. For each step he was taking. What joy a father or mother derives when they see their little infant taking his first steps! Ramesh, the doctor, was experiencing the same joy. He had determined to be omniscient, omnipresent and omnipotent for his patients.

Permalink 
 09:59 | 9/Jul/2008 | 19 Comment(s)
Rediff Iland is a School

Though my frineds on iland told me my story would make it to home page, I was pleasntly surprised when I saw my second home page appearance. Earlier it was for Little Hearts. Now it is for A Tale of Love. I thank all my friends and ilanders who read my stories regularly and give me enormous encouragement to write better and better.


 


A Tale of Love is different from other stories in that I divided it into three parts. Writing these three parts, posting them on iland, reading your comments and finding it on home page – all this is a learning experience for me. Some liked this story extremely, some liked moderately and some did not like at all. Especially third and final part, which is my favourite. Most of you did not find this part as appealing and fascinating as it seemed to me. May be it was my fault; I let you imagine things. In addition, given the context and break in the story, all of you expected some drastic event. Something dangerous. Something negative, which the main protagonist had to solve.


 


But this drastic and negative thing was never in my mind. When I started this story I wanted to tell you a simple love story. And I told. I took normal incidents which more or less happen in everybody’s life and weaved this story. I began it with a positve node and ended it with the same positive node. There was no physical abuse, no rape and no triangle. Just love, romance and memories; all these reflect the positive elements in life. I always want to infuse positive energy in my stories, which will ultimately flow into the reader. I do not want to thrill you with negative energy or force, which will startle you momentarily and make you forget soon.


 


May be I should have taken a bit more care of the ending. There would have been many ways to tell the same ending more beautuflly and more articulately. I failed here to explore these ways. This is a great lesson to me taught by you and rediff. When I started writing on rediff iland, I never imagined rediff would pave such a platform for me to connect with the readers through my stories. I am truly amazed at the feedabck and encouragement I am getting here. Rediff iland is a school where each ilander is both a student and a teacher. We join this school for different reasons. I came here to improve my writing skills and creativity. And I am doing this perfectly. Thanks to Rediff, thanks to my frineds and thanks to all ilanders and readers.

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 08:39 | 3/Jul/2008 | 51 Comment(s)
A Tale of Love - Part3 (Final)

(Please read Part1 & 2 before reading the final part.)


 


She nodded. “Come on, I will take you to our secret place, which was the origin for this zero.” Malati dragged him to the back of the school building. There, it was filled with nothing but trees and bushes grown haphazardly. Malati led him into the bushes further and into a small clearing, which seemed unused for many years.


 


“What kind of secret place it is?” Neeraj asked in confusion.


 


“You know this place remains the same as it was when we were here as kids?” Malati said. “Those days all the students, during study hours, used to divide in groups and disappear into some lonely places to study without any disturbances from outside world. Naturally, being good friends, Neha and me always remain as a separate group. That day we got bored of our usual place for study and decided to find out a new place. So we ventured out into the back of the school. And you know what Neha and I found here in this place?” she asked looking around the clearing.


 


“What?”


 


“Our enthusiastic and world-exploring eyes found a young boy and a young girl sitting here.” Malati pointed to a small rock in the clearing. “See! This is the same rock where they were sitting. This girl was lamost on the lap of the boy.”


 


“Oohh! Interesting!”


 


Malati smiled, with a girlish shyness. “Yeah, it was more than that for our young minds. We watched them from distance, our eyes popping out. We don’t know who they were and what they were doing in this secluded place. But one thing was sure – something fishy was going on.” She paused dramatically and looked at Neeraj. He was listening to her keenly. “Then Neha whispered into my ears they are lovers. I asked her how do you know? She said only lovers sit like that. I watched on TV.


 


“Oh my dear Neha!” Neeraj laughed. “She already gained so much knowledge by that time.” They both laughed.


 


“Such is our childhood!” Malati continued. “From that time onwards, we used to come to this place often just to see this couple. Twice or thrice a week they used to come here and I still remember how happy and excited we used to feel seeing them and how we used to derive a lot of fun watching them. Their laughs, their cuddles and their kisses – all excited us a lot.”


 


“Naughty girls!” Neeraj said.


 


Malati laughed. “Yes, we were very naughty. And, mischievous too. One day we decided to frighten this couple. We wanted to derive cruel joy from their fear of being caught.”


 


“That’s absolutely crazy!”


 


“Don’t blame me at all. This idea is originally conceived by Neha. Your Neha…” Malati stressed the last two words.


 


“Hahaa…I am just finding out how naughty my Neha can get. Dying to know what she did.”


 


Malati continued. “We made a master plan and Neha had taken the responsibility of execution. We, Neha and me, waited for the lovers’ next appearance. As usual they met after two days at their usual time and place. Poor things…unaware two little devils were waiting for them, they started their playful and romantic chatting. We let them enjoy themselves for a few minutes. Then, as per the plan, Neha took a small stone and, mustering all her courage and strength, threw it into nearby trees. Our thought was the stone would make some noise among the trees and the couple would be frightened and run away, thinking somebody was coming. The stone did make the noise, but they didn’t run away,” Malati stopped.


 


“What happened then?”


 


“The girl asked what the noise was. The boy assured her it was nothing but twigs falling from trees; he said no need to panic as nobody knew this route. And they resumed their usual conversation. But we, little devils, were hurt by their response. ‘How dare they remain seated here,’ Neha muttered. I was also disappointed our plan had no impact on them. This time, Neha got bolder. She picked up another stone and threw it right towards the couple. I remember, even now, how Neha’s hand quivered as she threw the stone, which landed hard on the girl’s head.”


 


“Oh my God! That’s foolishness!”


 


“Yeah! It’s our foolisness,” Malati said regretfully. “What we saw was blood instantly running down the girl’s cheek. She touched her head and was appalled. ‘Somebody found out us. They will kill us,’ she shrieked looking around. ‘It’s bleeding,’ the boy too cried and panicked. They hold each other’s hands and began to run towards where we didn’t know. We were transfixed for a few seconds, seeing the blood and their horrified looks. We saw what we wanted to see. But we had never imagined even in our dreams that they would be so terribly frightened. And we never wanted to hurt them. Both of them were so shocked, they didn’t have the guts to look towards where the stone had come from. We didn’t know love was such a forbidden thing in our town then. When we came out of our initial shock, we too began to run towards the school, tears running down our cheeks.” Malati stopped and looked at Neeraj for his reaction.


 


“You both were real devils,” he declared.


 


“It’s our childishness,” she replied. “You don’t know how much we regretted our act later. We had least expected our mischief would turn into violence and we would see blood. The next day was this maths exam of ours. Neha was so disturbed with this incident she got this zero in the exam. She confided in me later she used to get in her dreams the horrified and bloody face of that innocent girl for many days.”


 


“She deserved this zero and all those nightmares. Didn’t you see the couple again?”


 


“No! In fact, we dared not go there for a few days. After one or two weeks, mustering all our courage, we did venture into that place, only to find an empty place. We waited for the couple everyday, but never saw them again. We terribly missed them.”


 


Neeraj and Malati slowly began to walk back to the school. “Neha has never told me this story,” Neeraj said. “Isn’t it funny that she used to be very frightened to come out with me in the initial days of our relationship?”


 


“She must have thought of that poor girl she had injured years before,” Malati laughed.


 


Neeraj could not suppress his smile remebering all those beautiful moments when they, in the initial days of their blossoming love, used to meet secretely and how she used to look around frightfully. Maybe she had been searching for the devil-like-her girl.


 


***


 


After finishing his handiwork, Neeraj was pleasntly surprised he had done it so well. ‘Mmm…I never thought my school drawing classes would come so handy to draw my sweetheart’s school incident,’ he smiled a satisfactory smile at the painting. ‘How naughty my Neha is looking. I would get this drawing framed tomorrow.’


 


Neeraj was getting excited to think how Neha would feel when she opened the parcel and found this painting along with her old answer sheet with zero score. She could not guess he was sending her such a beautiful birthday gift.


 


Neeraj kept staring at his painting for a long time. On the centre of the painting was a young couple sitting on a rock. The rock was too small to accommodate two persons so the girl was almost sitting in the lap of the boy. They seemed to be in a blissful world, their eyes mischiously looking into each other. On the left corner, in the background, two girls were peering from the thickly grown bushes, their curious eyes shining with expectation. Among the two, the girl with a short ponytail was holding a small stone in her hand, ready to throw it towards the couple, who were lost in their own world.


 


Right corner on the bottom, following words were inscribed: Once you are the girl, with a stone in your hand. Now you are the girl, with a lover glowing in your eyes.


 


 


 


 


 


The end

Permalink 
 08:46 | 1/Jul/2008 | 30 Comment(s)
A Tale of Love - Part2

(Hi friends, please read the part1 before reading the part2.)


 


Early on Saturday morning, Neeraj left for his sweetheart’s childhood town. He had called Neha the previous night, but had not told her anything about his travel. He wanted to surprise her when she knew all this.


 


The four hours journey to that small town was pleasant. When he knocked on Malati’s door, he had an unexplainable feeling that he was meeting Neha’s childhood best friend. As the door opened, he found a young woman in front of him, with a pleasing smile. “Neeraj?” she asked.


 


“Yes!”


 


“This is Malati,” she said and welcomed him into her house. She introduced him to her parents as Neha’s distant relative. Malati had already informed Neeraj that she would introduce him in this way; otherwise her parents, who were not well acquainted with the culture of boy friend and girl friend, would not welcome him.


 


After finishing breakfast, Malati and Neeraj came out. “I just can’t believe even now you have come so far to see Neha’s elementary school. Far from being a tourist spot, this place is full of dirt and dust,” Malati said smiling.


 


“I haven’t come to see this place. I want to see the childhood of little Neha. By coming here, I may know many things which she hasn’t told me and hope it will help me understand her better.”


 


“How sweet of you! You know I always appreciate Neha in her choices? When I took arts in college, she took science. When I wanted to become a teacher, she wanted to become an IT engineer. Now see she is far ahead of me in career. And she must not be wrong in selecting you as her partner.”


 


Neeraj laughed. “Yeah, Neha is a good decision maker. But you are happy with your career, aren’t you?”


 


“Of course, I am. For it is my choice. How many people get a chance to teach in a place where they once learned the ABCD’s?”


 


They reached the school. It was beaming with life - cries, roars and chatterings of students coming from everywhere. “This is the school where I teach and once Neha and I used to study,” Malati said, turning dramatically around on her heels, her hands stretched out.


 


“It’s a beautiful school,” Neeraj said, looking around keenly.


 


Malati continued in excitement. “This is the same old building your little Neha studied, danced and played. These are the same corridors where she once roamed, talking, chitchatting and merrymaking with her friends.”


 


Neeraj was in transe; he was seeing his little Neha everywhere. He saw her in the girls briskly walking down the corridors. He saw her in the girls playing in the ground. He saw her in the girls boringly sitting on the benches in the classrooms. She was everywhere. Every corner in the building, every tree in the campus, every bench in the classrooms knew her for so many years. And he knew her only for three years!


 


‘How I want to be a kid again!’ Neeraj wondered. ‘Why didn’t we meet as kids in this school? We might have gained ten years as lovers.’


 


Malati showed him each classroom where they used to sit and their exact benches in each classroom. “You remember all this even now?” he asked.


 


“Yes. Don’t you remember?”


 


Neeraj tried to remember all his classrooms and his place in each of them. To his wonder, his childhood memory was too sharp. “Of course, I do,” he replied. Then he asked, “Malati, do you know Nirmala madam?”


 


 “Of course, she is head mistress of the school and once she was our class teacher while we were kids. Do you want to meet her?”


 


“Yes! Neha has always told me a lot about her; she was her favourite teacher and one of her role models. Neha says this woman changed the course of her life by cultivating a great habit of reading in her;”


 


“Yes, Neeraj! She has made a lot of gem students in her career. Let’s go and meet her,” Malati said.  They entered the head mistress’ cabin. Nirmala madam was old and amiable, oozing charm in her smile. When Malati introduced Neeraj as Neha’s friend, her face glowed at once with pleasure. “Oh! You are Neha’s friend! Good…She is such a lovely girl! You know what? Even now, after all theses years, she has remained my favourite student.”


 


“And you are her favourite teacher,” Neeraj said. “Neha admires you a lot. She says you never teach lessons from textbooks. Instead, you buy lots of academic and nonacademic books with your own money, distribute them to the children and make them read those books and grasp the essence.”


 


“Oh! It’s my way of teaching. I believe everybody should gain his or her knowledge from different sources. Just one teacher and one book are not good to anybody.”


 


“How true you are, ma’am! Now I understood why you are Neha’s role model.”


 


Malati, as if remembered something suddenly, said, “Ma’am why don’t you tell him your favourite student also once failed in Mathematics exam.”


 


“That too with a zero score,” laughed Nirmala ma’am.


 


“Neha failed in Mathematics? I can’t believe it,” Neeraj said. “She is very good at it. She told me she used to be the top scorer in all her classes.”


 


“No doubt about it. She was best at studies. That’s why she is my favourite. But, that day, I didn’t know what happened to her, she gave all answers wrong,” she paused. “I still remember feeling angry while checking her paper. I hadn’t expected such a thing from her. I was so disappointed I slapped her next day while distributing papers, in front of all the students in the class.”


 


Neeraj was silent. A slap in front of the whole class must have been too much for his little Neha. How much pain she must have gone through! Even now he would never dare to talk to her loudly or angrily as she would be hurt. “Neha must have had some problem the previous day.”


 


“I asked her later what was the reason for her zero,” Nirmala madam said. “But no response! The poor thing just kept weeping. You know what? She got top scores in the remaining subjects.”


 


“It happens in every student’s life, ma’am,” Neeraj said defending Neha. “They do well in everything, and suddenly they find themselves in a mess in one or two things. It applies to exams, sports and all.”


 


“You are right, Neeraj. But I was so fond of Neha I couldn’t digest such failure from her; her failure was my failure. Later on, I realised children are children; intelligent they may be, they too are prone to failure. We should not expect too much from them; otherwise we will be disappointed and in turn they, chidren, will be ruined. To keep remind myself this fact, I kept Neha’s answer sheet with zero marks with me.”


 


“Ma’am! You still have that answer sheet with you?” Malati asked.


 


“Yes.”


 


“Can I see it?” Neeraj asked, excited. He wanted to see Neha’s childhood handwriting.


 


Nirmala madam went inside a room and came back after fifteen minutes with a sheet of paper, which was typically folded in the middle in equal measure. “I haven’t seen it for years. So it took me some time to search for it.”


 


Neeraj took the answer sheet into his hands carefully as if he was taking little Neha herself into his hands. He unfolded the answer sheet and ran his palm over the beautiful words written in black ink. These were the words she had written twelve years before! How lucky he was to uncover these beautiful words after so many years! Neeraj kept staring at the words for a long moment. Graphalogists say a person’s handwriting will tell his or her whole personality!


 


He lifted his head up suddenly and asked Nirmala madam, “May I request you for a favour, ma’am? I want to keep this paper.”


 


“What will you do with this?”


 


“You know Neha’s birthday is just two week’s away? I want to gift this answer sheet to her. She will be pleasantly surprised.”


 


“Good idea!” anounced Malati.


 


Nirmala ma’am was silent for a while. Then, looking into Neeraj’s eyes, she whispered, “Neeraj, you told me you are a friend of Neha. I thought you are her best friend to come and meet me, her teacher. Now you want to gift her something nobody could think of. You are well aware how many childhood memories this little sheet will stir in her and how nostalgic she will become! I understood you are more than a friend to her.”


 


Neeraj gave her a warm smile. “Ma’am! The thing called love is strange. If I had come across my own answer sheet written in my childhood, I might have just stared at it for a long moment and then kept it away. But this piece of paper suddenly became so precious to me,” he lifted the answer sheet to his eyes. “Because I am in love with the person who used this paper years ago and who wrote these beautiful words with her tiny hands.”


 


“The thing called love is strange,” smiled Niramala ma’am. “And essential to life. I grant your request. You can take with you your love’s childhood adventure with zero score.”


 


“Thank you, ma’am,” Neeraj said, all smiles. After a while, he took Nirmala madam’s blessings and came out of her room along with Malati.


 


“You got a great gift for Neha,” Malati said appreciatively. “Do you want to know how Neha got that famous zero in her maths exam?”


 


“You know?” he asked with surprise and curiosity.


 


She nodded. “Come on, I will take you to our secret place, which was the origin for this zero.” Malati dragged him to the back of the school building. There, it was filled with nothing but trees and bushes grown haphazardly. Malati led him into the bushes further and into a small clearing, which seemed unused for many years.


 


“What kind of secret place it is?” Neeraj asked in confusion.


 


End of part2


 


(Note: Friends, this story came longer than I thought. Wait for a few days to read the final part. Thanks.)

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 11:35 | 28/Jun/2008 | 86 Comment(s)
A Tale of Love

“I may have to go to US for three months,” she said.



 



He was surprised. “What! You are going to US?” His first thought was how she could go away from him so far for three long months. His second thought was why not? Everybody longed for such an opportunity. Even he was trying hard to go onsite so that he could earn more money and better career opportunities. Now his sweetheart had got the opportunity. Shouldn’t he encourage her to go and utilize this chance?



 



“Congratulations, Neha! You should accept this offer. Three months isn’t actually such a long time.”



 



“Are you sure, Neeraj?”



 



He took her hand into his and said, “Yes.”



 



In two weeks, Neha was gone. Immediately, there was a big void in Neeraj’s life. No evening meetings with her, no phone chats lasting for hours and no morning missed calls from her to wake him up. He missed her so terribly. To the top of it all, Neeraj realized he was going to miss her birthday too, which was falling in the end of her second month in the USA.



 



“You remember how much we enjoyed together on your last birthday?” he said to her during one of their weekly calls.



 



“Yes, it was so fun,” she said wistfully. “I am so sorry we could not be together this year. But don’t worry, Neeraj, we will together have all the fun and enjoyment on your birthday.”



 



“That was six months away, my dear,” he said uncompromisingly. “It is only fifteen days you have been away from me; but this is the longest time we are separate in our three years relationship.” Last time was when Neha had gone to her grandma for ten days.



 



 “And still we have to be apart for another two and half a month,” she said sadly.



 



As usual, the two lovebirds ended their call, giving courage to each other. Neeraj always tried not to talk too much about their separation so as not to affect her work; but still he would end up complaining her going away. Ultimately, it was she who would give him more courage.



 



***



 



Weekends were more terrible for Neeraj. Saturday and Sunday were the days they made the most of it, being together. They would go and explore the whole city until they were tired and worn-out. He would drop her at her place in the evening.



 



If he was feeling so lonely without her, Neeraj wondered, what about his poor Neha. She was away from everybody – her family, her relatives and her friends. How lonely she must be feeling?



 



When another weekend was just two days ago, Neeraj got a call from an unknown number. “Can I speak to Neha?” asked a female voice.



 



“May I know who is calling?”



 



“I am Malati, Neha’s friend.”



 



He recognised her immediately. “Hey! Malati is Neha’s childhood friend. You are the same Malati! Am I right?”



 



“Yes.”



 



“Oh! I heard a lot about you. Neha has told me many stories about you. How you both used to share all your joys, sorrows and everything!” Neeraj said excitedly.



 



There was no response from Malati. She seemed to be in confusion as to who he was. But Neeraj continued in excitement. “In fact, Neha tried many times to contact you, but couldn’t get your number. She will jump and scream if she knows you called her.”



 



“Where is she now?” Malati asked.



 



“Oh! I am sorry. I am rumbling like a stupid. Actually, Neha is in US now and will be back in two months.”



 



“Ohhh...” Disappointment in her voice. “You are her brother?”



 



“Oh, no! I am her boyfriend.”



 



“I am sorry. But this number…”



 



“It was actually hers one year before. She gave it to me and got herself a new number.”



 



“OK! I got this number after a lot of effort, but I couldn’t talk to her now.”



 



“I can understand your disappointment. I have Neha’s ISD number. If you want I will give it to you, else I will ask her to call you on your mobile once she is back.”



 



“Thanks,” she said. “I can’t afford ISD calls. Ask Neha to call me back when she returns.” The line was cut. But, it was only the next morning, a brilliant idea flashed in Neeraj’s mind. He mulled over it for some time and then dialled Malati’s number, with a determination.



 



“You are working in the same school in which Neha and you studied till tenth standard. Am I right?” Neeraj asked her immediately when he heard her voice on the other side.



 



“Yes.”



 



“Then I am coming to meet you tomorrow morning and will spend the whole day with you.”



 



“Why are you coming?” Malati was puzzled.



 



“There are many reasons. First, I want to meet the person with whom Neha bonded so well for initial ten years of her life. Second, I want to see the school where my little Neha gained her education and knowledge. Third, I want to see the town where Neha grew into a teenage girl,” Neeraj said with excitement. “Are these reasons enough to come and meet you?”



 



For a moment, no response from Malati. “Do you love her so much? And you want to come so far just because Neha spent her ten years in this town?”



 



“Yes.”



 



“Then, you are welcome. But remember you may get disappointed here or you may have some bitter experiences.”



 



“Doesn’t matter.”



 



***



 



Early on Saturday morning, Neeraj left for his sweetheart’s childhood town. He had called Neha the previous night, but had not told her anything about his travel. He wanted to surprise her when she knew all this.



 



(Hi friends, thanks for reading. If you want to know what surprises are awaiting Neeraj there, please be patient. I will post the second part in a few days.)

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 13:29 | 2/Jun/2008 | 15 Comment(s)
Buying Books

Today I will tell you my experiences with books. Being a voracious reader from childhood, I read whatever I get my hands on. When I was a child I used to borrow magazines and story books from friends and relatives. Or used to go to library where I could read all kind of magazines and novels. Thus my reading habit continued. But, ironically, I never had a habit of buying books except class texts and notebooks.


 


When I started going to college and was able to save some money from the monthly pocket money given by my parents, I began buying books from the pavement shops, where secondhand books were sold for cheaper rates. Thus I set out reading books of my choice. But that choice was very limited. You could hardly get your favourite books on pavements. Even if you roam the whole city you could not find your preferred title. So, ultimately, you would have to pick the best title among those available on the roadside stall itself. No other option for me also. I would get what most of the people were reading, not what I wanted to read.


 


Then, one fine year I completed my education and took up a job. And my habit of buying books on the pavements and devouring them continued. I always felt proud of myself while buying books, thinking I was investing on something good. There is no doubt about that even now. But in the whole five years, I bought firsthand books from the shops only twice or thrice. Not that I didn’t visit big book shops. I did frequently, but only for window shopping and checking out the latest titles. Nothing more.


 


Then, one day I happened to visit Crossword in Hiranandani, Mumbai. Typically, to check out the latest titles. As I was browsing through the books, suddenly I decided that I would buy a novel. I was earning enough money to spend some more on books, I thought. So began to check the price tags of my favourite titles. Everything was at around four to five hundred rupees. That’s why people were buying books on the pavements and platforms, I concluded as usual. Then there was this book, titled Family Matters by Rohinton Mistry. What about the price? One-fifty rupees…affordable! I had never red Rohinton Mistry, though I was familiar with the name. Of course there were many writers whom I wanted to read, but never managed to as I could not get their books in pavement shops.


 


So I decided to read a new author and bought the book. During the reading, I could say I had a good time. Though the story was slow paced, it was interesting. When the book was finished, I felt an immense pleasure. I didn’t know how successful this book with others was. But I liked it. I might not have got this book on any footpath stalls. Not that you could not get good books there. You could, but you have to be extremely lucky; you could buy a lot of crime and suspense novels.


 


The next day when I finished Family Matters, I went to the same bookstore again and bought another book of Rohinton Mistry. The cost of those two books was four times less than my mobile phone bill that month. This fact made me decide that I would buy books as per my choice. Price of the book should not determine my reading habit. After all, my knowledge, my intelligence and all my major and minor successes in life is due to my reading habit from childhood.

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 10:40 | 15/May/2008 | 7 Comment(s)
Can I Become a Minister?



“Out of fifty students we interviewed, only two persons, Amol and Pradeep, can be eligible for the position. It’s really a bad situation.”