The Rickshaw wala

Ram lal woke up just at the break of dawn.The sunlight piercing through the tarpaulin sheets of his make shift hut woke him up.Every part of his body was aching from the previous days hard work.

He had had to carry a rich Babu and his luggage from bow bazaar to college street yesterday and another fat lady who kept on shouting at him to move faster.

Ram Lal looked at the bruises on his hands, It’s a hard life he thought, carrying people and their luggage, being cursed by passengers and commuters alike.All of this for a meager salary almost half of which goes to the rickshaw owner.

But this was all there was to his life he had moved from Bihar to calcutta with dreams in his eyes.When he could not find any decent job he rented a rickshaw and he has been on this job for 10 years now.He hopes to own a rickshaw one day.

For Ram Lal atleast there is something to look forward to every morning .He loves giving Mrs Sen a ride so that she can buy vegetables.she is always gentle with him and keeps asking about his well being from time to time.  He is glad to give a ride to someone so considerate and kind in this world of blood sucking monsters.

Mrs Sen was waiting for him in front of her house.Dressed in a crisp cotton sari and wet hair she looked resplendent Her charm and demeanour always attracted him towards her but the kumkum on her head and his own tattered lungi brought him back to reality.

"Ki re kemon achis shorir thik ache toh tor?"

“How are you hope you are in good health?”asked Mrs Sen.

“Hen thik hi achi”

“yes, I am fine”said Ram Lal

“Choti keno poris ni?”

“why are you not wearing your chappals?”asked Mrs Sen

“chide geche,ki aar kori?”

“those have worn out,what to do?”said RamLal.

He always watched her with loving eyes as she went from one shop to another scrutinizing the vegetables closely and bargaining with every vendor.

On their way back to Mrs Sen’s house Ram Lal asked her how was his husband, at this Mrs Sen could not utter a single word.She managed a dull “bhalo achen” with downcast eyes.It was then Ram Lal spotted a black bruise under her left eye as if someone had punched her in the eye.

“Ki go ?ki hoyeche choke?”

“what happened to your eye?”asked RamLal.

“kichu nei tui ja ekhon deri hoche”

“Nothing you go now, its getting late”.said Mrs Sen.

Ram Lal continued his work,  waiting for peddlers to ask him for a ride.But RamLal could not get Mrs. Sen out of his mind,the melancholy in her eyes haunted him throughout the day and even at night.

Next morning when Ram lal was cleaning up his rickshaw he overheard two women talking about Mrs Sen.

“Have you seen her, she is so badly bruised”

“I had heard noises coming out from their house last night, it has become a routine these days”

“what kind of  a man beats his wife these days?”

Ram Lal could not gather courage to stand there any longer,he rode as fast as he could.He was shocked,the sheer thought of Mrs Sen being beaten by her husband terrified him.

“cholo tada tadi ekhan theke ami tomake niye jabo amar deshe”

“lets get out of here quickly, I will take you to my state”said RamLal

“ki re ki shob bolchis? Ei dekh ami ki enechi tor jone?

“what are you saying,I don’t understand.Look what I have brought you.”said Mrs Sen

Mrs Sen gave him a pair of chappals.He cupped his hand in hers looking into her eyes with the reassurance of a protector.

Mrs Sen instantly withdrew her hands.

“ki re niye jabi na ki ajke? Chol deri hoche amake rana korte hobe badi phire”

“Won’t take me out today?Make it quick I have to cook when I come back”said Mrs Sen

“Ami sob jani sahab tomar songe bhalo byabhor kore na?Ami tomake niye jabo aamar deshe”

“I know everything, your husband does not behave with you,I will take you to my land” said RamLal

“tui janis tui ki bolchis se amar swami”

“Do you know what you are talking about ?He is my husband”said Mrs Sen.

With this Mrs Sen sent Ram Lal away. RamLal felt helpless.

The next morining Mrs Sen was again waiting for RamLal.He usually showed up at 8 am but it was 10 am now and he had not showed up yet.

Mrs Sen kept thinking of him ,she was growing immensely restless.She started speculating he will never come again.

Next day when Mrs Sen spotted RamLal outside her house, she could not contain the excitement , she ran right upto him.

“ki re kothaye chilis kalke , asli na keno?”

“ where were you yesterday, why didn’t you come?” asked Mrs Sen.

Suddenly she noticed RamLal’s rickshaw was missing.

“ki re tor rickshaw kothaye?”

“where is your rickshaw?” asked Mrs Sen.

“Sob sesh hoye geche aar kichu nei ekhane ami amar desh chole jabo”said RamLal.

“Everything has been destroyed ,nothing is left.I will go back to my state”

The government had sent orders to ban hand pulled rickshaws. They had seized and destroyed 12000 rickshaws ,Ramlal’s rickshaw was one among those 12000 rickshaws

They say a human being pulling another is inhuman.

RamLal wished in his heart , he could tell the government ,"there is nothing more inhuman than a man beating his wife."

P.S. I wanted to bring out two emotions through this story , the unspoken love between two people from different worlds and the plight of the hand pulled rickshaw walas of Kolkata.(I know the latter is more pronounced  in the story)

Indeed it is not a pretty sight to see a human being pulling another but to ban these rickshaws the govt. must ensure proper rehabilitation of the rickshaw walas first.

P.P.S The part about 12000 rickshaws being seized and destroyed is actually true , it happened in the year 1982 (No I was not even born then, wikipedia says so J).I hope the bangla is not that bad.

The Writer

Shashank would spend the wee hours of the morning walking along the Howrah bridge, gazing at the
river below.
He would scribble over numerous cups of coffee and intellectual conversations of visitors at the Indian
Coffee House.
In the evenings he would find himself a quiet corner in the vast stretch of maidan.
He always carried a notebook and a pen with him. He was a writer. He had never used a computer. He
felt the true essence of writing can only be captured with a pen and paper.
And when the sun would set he would go back to his dingy little apartment in a cramped lane of
college street. Some of the newspapers had been kind enough to publish his short stories and poems
and that is how he was earning.
He had been going around a lot of publishing houses in and out of Kolkata to get his novels published.
Every time he was sent away. Some said his stories do not have mass appeal. Some said his stories
were not racy enough. Others said they published only established writers.
Many a times he thought to himself if he should start writing porn. At least he will earn a little more
money that way.
---------------------------------------------------------


“What do you keep scribbling in that little diary of yours, Shashank?” asked Shashank's mother.
“Nothing, Mother.”
“You better concentrate on your studies. Your grades are going down. Look your father is home, now
go study.”
“What are you doing, Shashank ? Don't you have your exams within a few days? If you don't
concentrate on your studies you will never become an engineer.”
“But I don't want to become an engineer, Father.”


“Then what do you want?”
“I don't know… I haven’t figured it out yet.”
“Well then, probably you won't ever. Now go and study.”


----------------------------------------------------------


“Hey! Is that you Shashank?
“Yes but I am sorry I don't recognize you.”
“Of course you don't. How would you when you spent all the three years penning love ballads for
Priya. I am Raj the even manager at college remember?”
“Oh yeah, hello Raj! How have you been?
“I am good …went to Oxford University of London to complete my MBA and now I have come back to
start my own company. What about you?”


“Well, I am a writer.”
“Oh! That’s nice, has any of your books been published?”
“No…but some of my work got published in the local newspaper.”
“Ok then I will take your leave…all the best with your writing. I hope you manage to get your book
published soon.”


That night Shashank kept gazing at the ceiling fan of his small room. Raj's mocking face kept flashing
in his mind.
He tossed and turned but could not sleep. He thought of Priya.


--------------------------------------------------------------


“Shashank, you can't just walk up to my parents and tell them you want to become a writer. They will
never approve of our relationship.”
“Okay I will make up a story but I want to know what you feel about it.”
“What? You got to be kidding me. You can't pursue writing as a career.”
“Why not? You said you love my writings; they have a human touch.”
“But writers earn peanuts; I can't live with that. I am sorry Shashank. I am getting a lot of proposals
from rich families…”


-------------------------------------------------------------
Shashank had been working on a story for quite some time. This time he had done a lot of research.
He had studied the current trends and penned the perfect story which he thought would appeal to the
masses.
He went to Rupa publications but they sent him away.
However it did not deter his spirit and he went to another well known publishing house. But every
time he met failure.
Darkness was engulfing the night and along with it died his spirit.
Disheartened he went back to his house. On his way back, he picked up a couple of porn CDs.
He saw the movies and then he started writing again. This time he wrote porn.
Next day he again set out in search of a publishing house which would be willing to publish his erotic
literature.
Sarita publishing house agreed to publish his story. They offered him an initial amount of Rs 1000 and
50% of the sales profit.
They even offered him a contract of five years for writing erotic novels. He agreed.


A tear trickled down Shashank's cheek. He did not know whether to be happy or sad. He went back to
his house and set all his old manuscripts to fire. He sat down to write his new story.
His tears refusing to leave him.


P.S. This is my second attempt at writing a story. IF you have been brave enough to read it till the end,
please leave behind your honest comments.
P.P.S. This blog has completed a year and even if it still has as few readers as the inhabitants of
Antarctica. It has been a faithful friend and given me the most precious thing in my life :)

TIME PASSengers

If you have ever been on a long train journey,I am sure you can relate to this post.The longest I had ever been on a train was at max 8-10 hours,until the day I boarded the train to Jaipur from kolkata (purrrre 24 ghante!!!). Having to spend an entire day inside the train is not exactly what I am very comfortable with ,considering the Indian Railways lavatories which probably believe in the saying "daag ache hote hain" and the food which is as fresh as Katrina kaif's acting!
So I made it a point to prepare myself for this fateful day.I ensured that my laptop had atleast 4-5 unseen movies ,I was carrying a novel and my phone had enough charge and balance to disturb other people's sleep(since its just impossible for me to get a sound sleep on a train).                                                                                                                 


This train journey however made me realize that one can also manage to enjoy a long train journey without carrying books,magazines,movies,music etc.You can pass your time just by observing your fellow passengers.You will be amazed to find out how different each one is from the other and who knows  you might end up finding your soulmate!!!(I have heard many such similar incidents).
Here's a list of different kind of people I have come across on train journeys.


1.The Proverbial Pile On
They are the most dangerous kind.You would not want to have any communication with them,especially if you are a girl.Usually aged between 23-30.They are the guys who make passes at young girls travelling alone.They want to know every little thing about you and they will irritate the hell out of you.They want to know your name,your home town,who is there in your family and ofcourse your phone no.(Once a guy even asked me what was my caste!!!).
Essentially they are the guys who  believe "akeli ladki khuli tijori hoti hai"(For the british ki aulad who have not seen the movie Jab we met,this translates to "a girl,alone is like an open treasure" :P)
My sympathies with you if you have come across people of this kind.


2.The coochie-coo couple.
They are the love birds who take immense pleasure in the wonderful art of public display of affection.They are usually the newly-weds going on their honeymoon or young eloping couples.They are almost inseparable.They sit holding hands,whispering sweet nothings into each other's ears and doing all other kind of coochie-cooing stuff.Sometimes they accompany each other to the bathrooms even.I wonder why do they waste their money in booking two berths when they occupy only one.If you are travelling with your family they can prove to be unpleasant company but if you are travelling alone you get to see a cheap hindi movie for free.


3.The snoring symphony.
My sympathies with you again,if you have traveled with uncles or for that matter aunties who snore.They are a menace for people like us who can not sleep while on a train.They just add-on to our woes.If the ear plug industry is flourishing today,it is because of them.You must have had the urge of taking the ear plugs out of your ears and shoving it up their nose.


4.The wailing witches
They are a 'dhabba' to the entire race of infants and cute little kids.I am someone who loves kids,their chuckle can make me smile from ear to ear but these ever wailing and crying kids are too much to handle for me.You smile at them,they cry.You say hello,they cry.Just an affectionate look and they will cry.They have the power to make your train journey experience disastrous.I think their mothers need to stop putting them to sleep saying "so jao varna gabbar aa jayega".Try rajni next time aunties.


5.The friendly Family
You should thank your stars for you are lucky if you have them for company.They are a happy bunch of people.They strike up a conversation with you and end up befriending you instantly.They share food with you.They will be willing to play games with you.With them time flies and before you know,you would have reached your destination.


6.The nosy nutcase
As the name suggests they poke their nose a little too much into your business.They keep looking at you to see what are you upto.They have to know which book are you reading.which movie are you watching,what are you eating.When you are with someone like that you wish you had that Mr India(the movie) wala watch on your wrist so that you could become invisible.
This is all I can think of right now.If you have met other kinds of people do share in the comments section.
Next time you hop on a train,observe and enjoy.
Happy journey :)


P.S. As for yours truly,I can be categorized in to someone who indulges in the guilty pleasure of eavesdropping on conversations and observing people around her and judging them in the process ;).Yes you should beware of people of my kind as well.

Scarred for Life

I saw her coming towards me
In the darkness of the night 
It seemed she had been robbed off her glee
was there anyone who could set her free
was there anyone who could hear her plight


She came near her clothes were tattered
Eyes that said a thousand things
Longing to mend dreams that were shattered
Her bruises showed how she had been battered
She wanted to fly but they had butchered her wings


Slowly she spread out her tiny palms
the biting cold made her shiver
with a hope of earning some alms
people smirked at her but she had no qualms
I  saw her dropping a silent tear


She had a face which i will never forget
 marked by scars of a heinous crime
It made me wonder if they ever regret
People saw her and walked away giving her a dime
As i stood still gazing at her disappearing silhouette.


P.S. This poem is about a girl i once saw begging at the bus stop.
I was taken aback when i saw her.I asked my friend why is her face like that?He said "Don't you know there are people who throw acid at their faces and make them beg."
The deeper the burns better it is for them as people tend to give them  more alms.It left me dumbstruck.Yes,it does happen in real life.

Love Is Blind

It was a big day for Mayank.He woke up with dreamy eyes and butterflies in his stomach.It was his first
day of training in IBM Kolkata.He being a true delhi ka  munda was very apprehensive about how he was
going to adjust in a place which although a metro did not look like one.Still it can't be that bad afterall
it is called the city of joy he said to himself.
With a crisp white shirt and black trousers he was dressed to impress.As he was waiting for his bus to come
he could not help but notice how funny the new dialect sounded.Just then he saw her.She was standing
across the road dressed in a white churidar kurta and a red bandhini chunri.Her long lusturous hair were
left open and strands of hair kept falling on her face.She was not even making any efforts to move them
away .She stood still like the mannequins in the shopping mall.Even though Mayank could not see her
face clearly her silhouette was enough to arouse his interest.Mayank got into his bus and quickly grabbed
a window seat hoping to see her face.Hers was the most beautiful,pristine face he had ever seen.Now he realized all those stories about bong beauties were so true.There was a distant gaze in her eyes and it appeared as if she was smiling at him.His heart skipped a beat he thought of jumping out of the window and talking to her but soon dropped the idea.All throughout the day her face was running through Mayank's mind.
After a long day of classes it was time for him to go home.He stood at the bus stop for some time hoping
to see her again but she was nowhere to be found.With a heavy heart Mayank went back to his room.He
left early the next day hoping to strike up a conversation with her.She looked even more stunning that day
as the bright sunlight shone on her.He could not take his eyes off her.Her milky white skin glowed and
radiated an aura which left him dumbstruck.Mayank could not bring himself to talk to her.He just stood
there looking at her.This time again he grabbed a window seat.She had the same distant gaze and the smile
which made him go weak down in his knees.He cursed himself for being so stupid and not being able to
muster enough courage to talk with her.This continued for almost a week and Mayank had not talked with her even once.One day while returning from office it started raining.Everybody around ran for cover because rain in the month of january that too in kolkata was unexpected.Mayank sought shelter at Bijon da's tea stall.Just as he was trying to dry himself up he saw her.she was dressed in the same white churidar kurta in which he had seen her for the first time.She was completely drenched and the white kurta was clinging to her body which was inviting many prying eyes.Mayank walked up to her and said."Hi i am Mayank,I have seen you at the bus stop.I can see you are wet from head to toe if u  don't mind would u like to join me for tea?".She agreed meekly.They ordered Bijon da's special cha and jhal muri."I hope i am not being a pile on but i still don't know what is your and what do you do?asked Mayank."Oh i am sorry i should have introduced myself,i am Roshni and i work for an NGO and it was actually nice of you to ask me to join u for tea."
"Oh wow NGO thats impressive i work for IBM" and then they talked about everything under the sun right from each other's favourite movies,singers,books etc.Mayank was amazed to know how similar thier interests were.Finally the rain stopped and it was time for her to go.On his way back Mayank could not stop smiling to himself.He thanked the rain gods for the thousandth time that night.He started talking with her at the bus stop everyday.He got to know more about her likes and dislikes.One day Mayank told her"Do you know how beautiful you are?"She was silent for a minute then said."No,tell me".Mayank smiled at her and went on to sing praises of her enchanting beauty.She listened intently and after a few seconds said."yeah,maybe,my friends say the same things."Mayank was taken aback he was not expecting such a snobbish reply from Roshni but he did not say anything.They kept on meeting everyday at the bus stop.Mayank invited her for coffee in the evening more than once but Roshni always turned down his offer saying she was preoccupied with a lot of work.It was getting difficult for Mayank.He wanted to be with her all the time.Those 15 minutes of conversation seemed shorter with every passing day.One day he made up his mind to profess his love for her.On friday Mayank asked her if she would accompany him to a boat ride on the hooghly river.She thought for sometime and said "ok if u take me i would like to go".The next evening they met at the bus stop and set out together.Mayank was as nervous as he was on the first day in office.
As the boatman was rowing Roshni suddenly broke into a song.Eventhough Mayank did not understand the lyrics he could know she was singing something about the boatman and found himself swaying to her melodious voice."I have learnt Rabindra sangeet",She said."you have an amazing voice,you should have been a singer"Mayank told her.
They were walking hand in hand on the howrah bridge.The sun was setting down the horizon and the sky was
changing hues.Her glowing face looked mesmerising under the crimson colour of the sky.As he stood there
silently admiring her beauty she seemed to be lost in her own thoughts."Roshni i have been waiting to tell
you something from a long time"Mayank told her."Yes tell me what is it?"
"From the very first day i saw you at the bus stop i fell in love with you and over these few months it has
grown deeper and i just can't get you out of my mind.I want to spend each and every moment with you."
Roshni was silent for a long time ,"How is it possible Mayank,you hardly know me how can you say you
love me"
"Can't you see how desperately i wait for you at the bus stop how much i crave for spending a few moments with you"
"No i can't"
"Please don't do this to me Roshni you have no idea how much i love you.Can you see the river my love is deeper than that
Can you see this bridge  i can go to heights greater than this to prove my love for you"
"No i have no idea and i can't see"
"Roshni can you look into my eyes and say that you don't feel anything for me.Look into my eyes"
"I can't"
"why can't you Roshni,Why can't you look into my eyes"
"I can't look at you just as i can't see anything else around me.I am blind Mayank"
"What rubbish is this"
"If  you don't believe this let me take out my walking stick".
She took it out.Mayank stood there shocked at what he saw.He could not say anything.She walked away with her stick

Love is blind,It really is Mayank said to himself.

P.S This was my first feeble attempt at fiction.I don't  know how much of it makes sense to you if at all it does.Are bhayee if u can spend Rs 300 for watching a farah khan's movie free mein yeh story toh padh hi
sakte ho.BTW you can read some great short stories at http://buckinfastard.blogspot.com/.(advertising ka keeda is still biting)

The Imposter

  
    Burning,melting like a mould of wax
 taking up a shape the world wants to see
  Everyday i wake up and put on a mask
     Will i ever know who is the real me


     loathing the face i see in the mirror
 I lose this battle with my  inner demons
     The world opens its jaws to devour
turns stone-deaf can't hear the soul which bemoans


         Apprehensions and self doubts linger
Looking back i wonder where did it all go wrong
   desperation and confusion slowly overpower
Lost in thoughts,i break into a melancholic song


       I  Dreamed of taking the road less travelled
even before i realised i was lost in this insane crowd
     heavenly detours were waiting to be unraveled
but i was blinded by the dazzle of the enticing new world


      There are false promises and shattered dreams
         All i need now is some sort of reassurance
      my faith is shaking like an earthquake it seems
Reality is hard to face how i wish to always be in a trance




P.S. Okay i am very bad at this and somehow i always end up writing sad poems but i had to write something to keep my blog alive .On a lighter note i am sharing a little incident about this punjabi guy in my office.This guy has a bengali friend who always accompanies him to a tea stall near his place.The bengali friend helped him learn a sentence in bengali "mashi 2 to cha" which can be translated to "aunty 2 cups of tea please".It so happened one day that the punjabi guy went alone for tea and on that unfortunate day dear mashi ma/aunty ji was not present and a little girl was at the tea stall.So our punjabi munda goes and utters the sentence which he was rattofying on his way towards the stall without even underatanding the meaning.
punju to girl:"mashi ma 2 to cha"
Girl:Stands still with a perplexed look

SOLITUDE

The glorious sun rises from the horizon

The sky slowly  changes hues

From pitch black it  starts turning crimson

Soon sadness fades and a ray of hope within my heart ensues

I can  hear the birds chirping

I lose myself in the beautiful melody

Suddenly I see myself smiling

All that prevails  now is divine serenity

The flowers start blooming and let

 out an intoxicating fragnance

Bees swarm to suck their nectar

Its like an enchanting romance

I stand amazed and watch like a devout spectator

The trees sway  when the wind blows

The rustling of the leaves is music to my ears

The cows moo in faraway  meadows

They are in a jubilant mood it appears

The ocean waves crashing against the rocks

Break the silence that sorrounds

The blue devil no more mocks

Its sheer euphoria that abounds

Millions of stars twinkling in the sky

Seem to me as prying,blinking eyes

As I stand alone heaving a deep sigh

I find solace  under the starry night this

Loneliness I no more despise

I never went around seeking solitude

Like a soulmate it found me

It  helped me determine my altitude

Soon there was happiness and glee