That Rickshaw
It was quite an unusual day I must confess. After my
school got over at 4 pm, the thoughts of reaching my new coaching institute – The Toppers’ Academy before 4.30
completely occupied my mind. It was the first day of the fast-track course
scheduled for two months along with mock tests before the board exams. I did
not want to be late and project a bad impression of myself, so I thought of
grabbing a cycle rickshaw as I
stepped out of my school premises. The road in front of our school was quite
narrow for two rickshaws to cross at once, so I had to walk nearly five minutes
to get a glimpse of Mary’s Girls School
where the road met the broad main road. This was exactly where I had seen many
parked cycle rickshaws while going back to my home.
But to my utter
surprise, there was only one rickshaw standing at a distance outside that
school premises and without any further ado, I started a sprint lest no one should
get to it before me. And I won the race but when i was about to get up on the
rickshaw, the puller told me to get off as the rickshaw had already been
booked.
“When will the other
rickshaws come?” I asked the rickshaw-puller with eagerness mixed with
hopelessness.
“They all have already
left beta, school got over nearly
half an hour ago and I have been booked in the morning so you've got a sight of
me, else rickshaws become hot cakes as the closing bell rings.”, he informed
wearing a smile on his face that did not impress me at all.
“But I have seen many
rickshaws around this time while going home through this road.” I stated
suspiciously.
“That was probably
summer session, now winter session is going on, school gets over half an hour
earlier now.” He answered more seriously now.
“If you start walking
now, you will not get there before 5 pm which implies the worst beginning and a
handful of embarrassment to add to the injury.” spoke the voices in my head
amidst negativity.
“I need to go to kadamtala area,
which bus should I board uncle?” I asked in despair.
“Where exactly in
kadamtala you want to go? Not a single bus route is there, if it is close to
main road, it would be helpful else you need to wait to get a rickshaw” His
answer made a perfect sense.
But that was enough to
set a panic in my mind because the first day when I went to the institute to
take admission with my dad on his bike, we had to go quite a distance off the
main road. Even getting a bus is a matter of luck which did not seem to be on
my side that day.
“Toppers’ Academy which
is opposite to Sanpur Library?” I answered expecting a miraculous reply.
He was going to say
something when we were interrupted by a soothing voice behind me.
“New batch that starts
today?”
I turned around to find
a big surprise waiting for both of us. We took the admission on the same day
and I clearly remembered lending my black pen to her for filling up the form
once I was done filling mine. It would not have been memorable had she not come
down to return the pen in front of my dad and left with a sweet 'thank you'. I
was never comfortable with girls when
dad stayed around. I did not want him to form a bad impression about me
especially when he hesitated to admit me in a co-ed school.
“She is the one who has
booked my rickshaw in the morning, now move aside!” said the rickshaw-puller.
I did not care to
listen to his words, after all a silver lining came on my way and I needed to
make the most of it.
“If I am not wrong, you
took admission alongside me that day in Toppers’ Academy nah!” I did not stop
to let her respond.
“Actually my class
starts from 4.30 pm there. But there are no more rickshaws. I can take bus but
I don’t know when I will get one and he just said that there is no bus route
near Toppers’ Academy. So need to walk quite a while to reach there from the
main road if I manage to get a bus now, even then i would be quite late. If you
don’t mind, can we share it? I will pay the full fare. Please don't say no.”
“Ok. Ok. I don’t have any problem if the fare is on
you.” She replied with an adorable smile that took away all my anxiety at once.
It was already 4.10 by my watch and we did not waste any further time and got
on the rickshaw at once. “Go through the
left lane, uncle, don’t take the main road, it is too dusty, I am going to have
my tiffin" She recommended. I tried to take as less space as possible and
inclined by body outwards to keep some space between us and started looking at
the shops on the roadside.
“Is this your first
time on a cycle rickshaw?” she asked suppressing her smile with her pink lips.
“Ah no! But why?”
“No nothing. Just that
you are sitting in a very awkward posture. That’s why." She could not
suppress it this time.
“No I am ok. Ah… I forgot to say a big thanks
to you. Thanks a lot really. Someone else in your place could have ignored my
request, to be frank. So a special thanks.” I tried to divert from the awkward
topic of discussion and saved me from embarrassment.
“It’s ok. Consider it a
return help. Have you eaten anything?” she asked as she was bringing out her
long tiffin box.
I was not ready to
answer that. I realized I had not bought anything to eat amidst my panicky
state.
“No… I have... I mean I
have eaten” I lied.
“Here take this.” She
offered me a chicken spring roll wrapped in a paper of Food Court.
“No thanks. You eat. I
have already eaten” I refused the offer unwillingly.
“For your info, I am
not sharing my food with you. I have bought two, one for now and one when class
gets over. Since you are paying the fare, so with my saved money I will buy a
pizza with extra cheese from the Monginis
store while returning.”
“Now take this!” She
almost forced the mildly warm roll into my palm “And save me from eating a cold
piece while going home.”
Deep down, I was hungry
and it was hard for me to counter that logic but it did not feel decent enough.
So I took out a note of twenty from my pocket and forwarded that to her.
“Keep that with you because
next time you are going to sponsor.” Saying so, she stuck her first bite on the
roll.
“I might not get that
chance. So take it. And after the class gets over, I need to leave immediately,
so I cannot buy anything then.” The smell of the delicious roll was making it hard
to resist.
“No probs. But how are
you planning to get to Toppers’ Academy the next time? Instead here is a deal.
My school gets over at 3.30pm I will wait in the food court watching TV like today
because there is no point in going there early and roam about aimlessly on a
lonely road. But the catch is you will pay the fare every time and I get to
taste something new every day while returning home.”
“That sounds okay for
me. If I take a rickshaw, I have to pay same fare. But I have a clause.” I
could no longer resist and took a pause enjoying every bit of that juicy
delicious roll of my first bite.
“What’s that?” she
inquired.
“You need to buy an
extra roll for me from next time onwards because I won’t get time to buy
anything and most importantly I will pay for my piece.”
“Deal done!”
I never had a good
chemistry with the girls in my class and even I had a verbal fight with a
senior didi when she was our class prefect. My past records of interaction with
girls are little hazy but it seemed that day was quite an unusual day. Desperate
time does bring out the best in you.
It was only during the
class that we got to know each other’s name when our physics teacher asked us
to introduce ourselves one by one along with school name.
“Hello Sir, myself
Suvuhi Saha from St. Mary’s Girls School”, she introduced herself in a very
friendly tone.
I placed myself at the
last bench not because the best brains are found at the last benches but
because last bench will have a wall where you can rest your back without any
protest.
“Hello everyone, this is Monojit Dutta and I
am from St. Thomas High School” and immediately she turned and gave me a
friendly glance delightfully.
After the class got
over, I walked out slowly so that she could leave for the monginis shop and my dad does not get to see me talking to her. But
there she was just below the stairs.
“You have not left
yet?” I asked in a rather surprising tone.
“I am not in hurry” she
replied with a jolly smile.
“But I am. Sorry I have
to leave now, my dad is waiting outside”, I ended the conversation abruptly.
With a bye from both
ends, we parted for the day.
*****
Next day as soon as my
school got over, I started walking hastily to reach St.Mary’s School. There she
was, having a chat with the puller, sitting on the rickshaw waiting for me. I
could tell from the backside just by looking at her glossy silky hair which was
tied to a knot shape that only suited her.
”Sorry I am late, did u
buy anything to eat?”
“Nope.” She replied
with a mischievous smile.
“Very well! I will get
them now because it’s my turn today.” I was about to turn when she said “Hey
wait! I have got home-made tiffin today. So don’t worry and get up.”
“Sorry, I would rather
buy something else. I don’t eat something that is meant for someone else.” I
said hiding my expression of grabbing a home-made food in first place.
“How long are you going
to pretend of being a nice person? We are getting late.” She moved to the other
side making place for me to sit. I could not control my laughter and got up in
the rickshaw joyfully.
After a while she gave
me her tiffin box and said “Open this, It’s too tight.”
“How is it hot still
now?” I was surprised to discover that.
“Don’t worry! I did not
buy it from shop and passing it off as homemade. It is mom-made, I asked Ratul
Bhaiya, the person in Food Court, to put it in oven for a minute.”
“You are totally
crazy.”
“I will take the pain
of doing everything and this is what I get in return.” She made a pretending
face of being angry.
“Arey! This is a
compliment that I keep for special occasions.” And we both started laughing.
I opened it finally and
the aroma of parathas and Chhole masala made me salivate instantly.
I took out my empty
tiffin box and she served me the hot and delicious combo and it melted in my
mouth in the least possible time.
On our way, we got to
know where we stay but none of us had any clue about the areas. I lived nearly
10 kms away from my school and she used to live nearly 2 kms from Toppers’
Academy as she explained.
We used to get down a
little ahead of the building thus I saved myself of spreading any gossip about
link up and we hardly talked in the classroom as we had our own group - boys
and girls group. Gossips create an unforeseen gap between friends.
A few weeks passed by.
And all those weeks, I would look forward to Tuesday. On one such Tuesday, my
school was off because we were off to school picnic which I missed purposely
only to get a ride with her because deep down, I knew the joy of that rickshaw
ride would always overshadow the joy of a school picnic that I had in the past.
So I got out early at 2 pm from my house bluffing that my tuition classes would
start early and got full box tiffin from my mom with another lie that I would
have a long break in between the classes.
I reached my school
lane at 3 o’clock, a time that was too early owing to my good luck of getting
both the buses early. So I thought of killing the time by roaming here and there.
At 3.30 I placed myself opposite to St. Mary’s School and got up in the
rickshaw. It was of course, a pleasant surprise for her not only because I was
early but because I was in casual dresses for the first time.
“What’s up? You look
cool. Bunked school and went to a date or what?” she giggled amusingly.
“No! Actually my dad
was not feeling well in the morning and so I opted not to go to school today.”
I lied cleverly.
“Oh ok. So you came by
bus? Then you could have gone directly there instead of here. I could have
waited for 4.20 and left. As per our deal last day when you were late.
Remember? What are you doing here? ” She
inquired suspiciously.
“Actually today I
thought of giving you a taste of my mom’s special dish – here it is!” I took
out my tiffin box and placed it in her hand “could you get it hot from foodie.”
“Sure. But what is the
dish within?” She got animated at once.
“Kachori stuffed with
masala green peas and shahi paneer.”
I said as her face brightened up.
“Fantastic. But what
would I do with my tiffin?” She was confused.
“Well! That’s totally
mine today.” I had planned that earlier.
“So how will you go
home today?” She asked amidst her compliments for the dishes.
“Same as always. Why?”
I asked being quite surprised.
She reminded the lie I
told with an annoying smile.
“No! He was feeling
unwell. Now he is absolutely ok” I tried hard to cover up.
“Oh really? And why he
did not came to leave you then?”
I was trying to cover
up the lie but she interrupted “I was not expecting you today.”
“Why?” I asked being
puzzled. “Because I know one student of your school. She is in class IX and she
told me that you are having a school picnic today for class X and IX.”
It did not see that
coming. And the pale expression on my face said it all.
“And she told me that
everyone had to pay the fee whether they would go or not” She continued.
And a few moment of
silence followed.
“Actually…” I tried to
reason.
But she interrupted and
said “Never mind. But don’t miss the picnic next time. Promise that!”
“Promise” I smiled and
looked the other way as I could not make any eye contact that day. I did not
know whether she was happy for my effort or disgusted for my lies.
Another few set of
weeks passed away.
It was nearly the fag
end of our classes and one day, I reached the spot as usual to find that there
were several rickshaws today at the stand and our rickshaw which used to stand
at a distance from was occupied by someone else.
When I reached the spot
to my utter surprise, It was not someone else but Suvuhi in casual and she
looked no less than any dream girl I can ever dreamt of, with her sparkling
open hair.
“Hey it is you and I
thought someone else had occupied our rickshaw.”
“How do I look?” she
asked enthusiastically.
Never before I was
forced to compliment a girl like that but I managed to reply.
“Completely different
yet as usual.”
“Could you please
elaborate?” She questioned back.
I was really feeling
comfortable but pulled off an answer which was not an ideal answer I wanted to
give to a girl whom I realize, my mind is completely occupied with “Different
from usual days in school dress and elegant as usual.”
“Thank you. I love that
compliment. Get up and I have a special surprise for you.”
“What? New dishes?” I
anticipated.
“Yup! It is not mom-made.”
She answered with the same old mischievous smile.
“So you bought it from
somewhere. On any given day, I would buy your mom-made dishes.” I proudly
remarked.
“Gadha, I have cooked these dishes today.”
“Really? Oh that is
super special. Your school is off?”
“Yes and it is not a
picnic but school gave two weeks off to prepare for board exams.”
“Okay okay! What did
you cook?”
“I have brought two
boxes. In one I have Suvuhi’s special - Mixed fried rice and in the other my
hand made Samosa with chatar patar chutney.”
“Goodness. How are we
going to eat all these on road?”
“On our way, we can
halt and sit on the rocks near the big field and eat.Uncle will share two
samosas with us while we finish ours.” She had planned everything perfectly.
We were going to be
late that day. That was certain and none of us minded that or spoke anything
about it.
“Ok! Food tastes different when eaten from the
maker’s magical hand.” She said once she finished serving the dishes.
I wish time were
elastic. Stretching those moments to infinite would have been such an easy
task. I asked her to give me less grasp so that I could spend more moments such
as those and complimented her all the while. She really does cook well.
“You should consider
participating in Masterchef. Really, this is really awesome. It is quite
different than mixed fried rice I have ever eaten.”
We finished quickly and
on our way, we had the samosa and that unique chutney.
Then arrived a line to which I did not pay much heed and that seemed to be the
mistake of my life “We may go to Hyderabad as my dad is most likely to get a
transfer there. He has been postponing the transfer for a while now, due to my
board exam.” She exclaimed with a sigh.
“Hmmm. I love this
chutney. Give me the recipe next day. I will ask my mom to make these for
guests when they come.” I was busy enjoying the food.
“Sure.” She did not
seem that happy.
That was our last ride
together. She just disappeared like a dream. On that very day we learnt that,
that was going to be our last class as after one week of gap mock exams
started. During those exams she used to remain absent, so on the second exam
day I inquired at the reception with the excuse that she had a copy of mine;
they said that she was going to give home test. So I took her address and
landline number all of which went in vain.
Once the exams were
over, I called her up but it was dead probably because they gave it up before leaving.
So I made up my mind to visit their house after board exams just to prove my
suspicions wrong. To my utter surprise, it was closed from outside. I was late
and dejected.
Once in a while, I find that same rickshaw while returning home from school - that
rickshaw which I will not ride again.
‘So
where do you see yourself in five years?’ asked the interviewer, who held the
right to make my dream come true. ‘I want an honest answer this time,’ he
added, stressing that the lies I told him thus far had failed to impress him.
‘I don't like to speculate about my
future but we will see it anyways, someday,’ I answered hastily trying to cover
up my cluelessness with wit. But deep down inside I knew quite well that the
dreams of my parents were about to collapse.
And when
the results were out, the moment of pride was literally lost forever in the
darkness of a remarkable day.
‘An old dream is shattered only to
build a new and better dream,’ her encouraging words were the only comfort I
received that day.
That day we both had a new dream, a
common dream which only I could fulfill. In that shared dream, she did not
impose herself into the scene. She taught me how one should love enough to let
other go, to be happier with the one they choose to be with. It is not a
sacrifice, rather a selfish act because it is only the happy face of your
beloved that can make you happier.
I would not have understood the true
meaning of those words until that day when I left the beautiful roses to turn
dark and die because her hands were busy embracing the person she chose to be
with, someone who could bring a wider smile on her face, someone who would make
her happier.
***
Since then, five long years have
passed and amidst the haunting memories of my parents’ tragic death, your smile
still echoes in my room, my cover pictures are still dedicated to you, your
happy face on Facebook photos still make my day. Remind-joe still reminds me of
those immortal moments we created to perfection and my drawer is still full of
those lovely gifts that only you could give me.
Our
common dream of becoming ‘the voice of the voiceless’ has finally been realized
today. The dream of touching thousands of lives and providing them the best
medication through writing has finally worked. Thousands of unknown faces
screaming my name in an event meant for press meeting is the ultimate moment of
truth and of regaining the lost pride.
‘First of all congratulations, Sir,
for achieving the best-seller mark for your debut novel ‘Still In Search Of
Love’. How does it feel?’ a media person asked among the shrill voices
of those who once deemed themselves as voiceless and preferred to yell
at themselves only in their lonely minds.
‘Well, it is a dream becoming true in
the real sense.’
‘Monojit, your book was dedicated to
your late parents and to the person who considered you as her first love. Was
she your first love as well?’
‘Well, as the book says ‘If you know
what love is, then it’s time to try love after love but if you don’t know, once
is enough.’ I guess I am still in pursuit of the meaning of love. Furthermore,
you can only call something as ‘first’ when you experience the ‘second’ of it.
Unfortunately I am not meant to.’
‘Hello Sir, any message you would
like to give to everyone present in the hall?’
‘Free advice for all you meant!’
There were giggles in the audience. ‘That we all are smart is beyond doubt just
as we are yet to be conscious of what we are really doing. Don’t just be in a
relationship because your surrounding forces you to, love can happen
only once; rest is just trying to find the substitution for the first.’
Sometimes relationship needs an
ending and that’s where love takes over.
May be
that is how true, immortal love sounds like!
A Circular Table
When I breathed and cried amidst the faces unknown
You were the ones who told me “you are not alone”.
When I trembled to face the new world at school
You taught me to make new friends and be cool.
Then that day when I was beaten black and blue
You explained lovingly - one and one makes two.
You held my hand and stroked my hair to take away
All my pain and despair with your gentle utmost care.
You held me tightly and took all the beatings on my behalf
From the storms, the troubles and the tragedies which befell.
Behind my success and my failure you stood firm and tall
It is your morals and values that answered “why do we fall?”
One day when I gave away my heart to a lovely girl,
You thought the bridges were burnt
And the table had turned
But it was actually my turn to serve
To stand beside you to provide what you deserved.
It wasn’t those expensive gifts that could please you,
It wasn’t those delicious dishes that could delight you,
Like those moments when I made time especially for you.
When you were afraid of the old age and beyond
I held your hands and strengthen our eternal bond.
When you cried and breathed your last amidst faces unknown
I was there repeating those old words “Be sure you are not alone,
Wherever you are, my heart will always beat for you” – Your one and own,
Monojit Dutta.
You can do whatever you want to. Whatever you want is already there within you. All you need is someone to remind you that you can and you will.
“What is your son doing these days?” inquired Mr. Gupta with the same attempt of suppressing his evil smirk that he had tried every single time he had asked the same annoying question in the past.
“Same old stuff. I have funded his education, now it is up to him to make a living”, answered my dad once again.
“This is the same answer I have been hearing ever since your son passed out of college. Take charge of him now and ask him to prepare for jobs rather than wasting time in writing craps, else you won’t ever get a bride for his marriage. Mark my words, Verma Ji” said Mr. Gupta, our next to next house neighbour with that controlled expression of enjoyment when a boss insults his subordinates.
“This is the same question you have been asking ever since your son got a job” replied my dad before resuming his daily habit of gardening as if he did not listen to any other line after the first.
Mr. Gupta left silently after discovering his state of wordlessness.
“Bubai, come down and help me in lifting this heavy bucket”, his voice startled me as I realized my dad was aware of the fact that I was listening to their conversation from the terrace.
"Sprinkle water on those plants. They look as dry as your face.” said my dad as he closely inspected my face with a quick glance.
“How did you see me? I was watching you constantly but never did you turn to look above. How did you notice me?” I asked unable to keep the suspense within me anymore.
“Look at that tilted water filled bucket. What we are looking for, are generally around us, but we simply waste time looking above waiting for God to help.”
I went over to the bucket and to my astonishment, i could clearly see the reflection of the blue sky and the place where I had positioned myself on the terrace, on water in it.
“Look beta, you have to face a lot of people like Gupta Ji in your life until you achieve something to show them. Don’t try to ignore them, instead, observe them and give them a shape through your writing. This is exactly what your Dadaji used to do. He was a great writer but due to lack of proper channel, he could not make it big. But time has changed now in the favour of the writers and this is exactly why you will achieve what your Dadaji could not. He retired voluntarily to follow his passion and remember passion will never let you down.”
“Anyway, November is approaching, are you prepared for the annual NaWri-Fest?” inquired my dad with a smug.
-----
2 years later, Indore stadium in Delhi At National Writing-Fest Finale Event-
“Ladies and gentlemen, authors and writers, this year nearly one lakh people from all over the world with the common passion for writing took part in our NaWri-Fest event and successfully completed and published their novels. Huge round of applause for each one of them. Some of them are masterpieces while some failed to make a single scratch in the hearts of the millions of avid readers. Yesterday, as you all know, we broadcast all over the world via Youtube, our final list of the top 100 best-selling novels of 2015 that were actually written during NaWri-fest's contest. And now finally the moment has come to declare the Best Selling Novel Award and the Best Story Novel Award by our renowned Jury for 2015.
Tonight, history will be written in golden words as both the awards go to that author whose debut novel has touched almost everyone’s life and especially the critics all over the world and he is, in fact, the youngest person till date to receive these prestigious awards - Mr. Akash Verma. Ladies and gentlemen this young Indian deserves a standing ovation for his masterpiece - The Voice Of The Voiceless. Akash, take it all over now, mic is all yours now.”
“A lot of people don’t appreciate special moments in their lives unless they become memories. Thankfully I am an exception. So I plan to celebrate this moment and party with each one of you because special moments are rare and all you can do is to stretch them at their max. Thank you NaWri-fest organizers for providing us a platform to realize our dreams and making this, the moment of my life.
I am extremely privileged to take these awards in front of equally deserving candidates. Art is incomparable. So we all are winners here and these awards are for each of those one lakh spirited persons who took part in the National Writing fest.
Unfortunately, I don’t have a list of people to thank and so I will rather tell you something I am best at - Sharing stories.
They say less-travelled roads are lonely. But I have always found people accompanying me in those roads who would give you ninety-nine reasons to change your track and take the usual and easy ones that can make you rich and give you a status in your society in a short span of time. Everyone wants to skip the struggling phase of life.
But fortunately those ninety-nine reasons never mattered to me for once, because my dad had promised me that my passion for writing would never let me down. Struggle is just a necessary step. As necessary as washing your hands before tasting a delicious dish.
You can and you will. All you need is someone to remind you that you can and you will."
Atoms never die
We are as old as any God
Atoms never created.
2#
Another night stand
Same touches, kisses and the usuals
Next day, search begins.
3#
Some wishes are best unfulfilled
A wish fulfilled is a wish created
Some wishes are best companions.
4#
Our eyes watching your
Struggle, suffering, defeat.
That is our sole curse.
The Path Of Life
I was traveling on an unknown road,
Which was half-paved and quite broad.
It was sloppy and slightly bent,
God knows where would it end?
The road was uneven with too much turns,
Sides were barren where light burns.
And my eyes were dazzled by light so bright.
I hurried a bit to escape the light,
But soon stopped eyeing the first sign of life;
They were sowing seeds with so much care
As if their own children were lying in layers!
The sight was too good to stand and stare,
But I moved on without too much care.
Then I saw them watering the seeds,
Nourishing and protecting them with too much heed.
I wondered whether they did the same,
When a baby was born to them!
As life moves on, so did I too,
And met a grand scene,
Where the small plants were dancing in cold loo;
Small plants hardly of some days,
Dancing and smiling in all possible ways.
As I moved on, I saw plants weaving their hands,
Plants which were growing up and firmly fixed to the land;
Even then the guardians were taking utmost care,
To nourish and protect them so that no one else could dare.
These plants reminded me of my half-forgotten days,
I soon realized I was too old for such gay;
Their leaves were green and so were they,
What a lively childhood, there was nothing to say!
To stand and stare is a big crime,
So I moved on, as did time;
Plants had grown up and had turned into small trees,
And their enjoyment and liveliness,
Were snatched to a certain degree.
I need to be careful now due to unseen pitfalls
But I would move on to see what's there so tall!
So far the sides were nearly equal,
But then there was a total distinction
One was illuminated by sunlight,
While the other was in darkness, as if illusion.
I tried to make out what lay behind darkness.
Yes, there were trees which had lost their grace and tenderness;
They are bent and broken fruitless tress unlit even in sunlight!
I concentrate my sight on the brighter side,
Where trees stand tall with full of pride;
Some had got the fruits of their labor and some were yet to get,
Rather sure to get.
Slowly I progressed, as did moon,
And reached its end quite soon;
I was quite astonished
To see the withered trees.
Trees were perishing leaving no trace,
But there were some standing with grace.
They had no leaves but had thick stems and were tall.
They were dead but still alive and would never die at-all.
The road had now vanished in complete darkness.
I left it for some other day and showed no courageousness.
“Fair Is Foul and Foul Is Fair”
I couldn't dare to utter it here.
