THIS IS THE 600 WORD SHORT STORY WHICH I HAD WRITTEN FOR COMMONWEALTH WRITING COMPETITION 2010.

The aroma of freshly prepared rotis had enveloped the miniature kitchen. Amongst a dim lighted lamp and some old utensils sat Kaveri Amma, as fondly called by the villagers. It was time for her dinner. Like an every day custom, she prayed to God before consuming the little she had prepared. Amma, in her late 60’s, mother of two sons, both well settled, was spending prime of her life in the ancestral house of her late husband.

As she lay quietly on the hand knitted rug, trying to figure out probable solution for her predicament, past reminiscences appeared before her. It felt as if it was just yesterday when she was married to Govind, who was nearly 15 years elder to her. A girl just 14, who played in streets, was suddenly the eldest daughter-in-law of Raghuvanshi Family. Along with Kaveri, 4 cows, a kilo of gold and silver utensils was send to the Raghuvanshi’s as a penalty of Kaveri’s dark complexion. But in spite of these offerings cum dowry, she was made to work continuously, without even attending to any of her genuine complains.

To muddle through the diverse responsibilities shouldered upon her was indeed a challenge. Right from getting up early at 4 for Morning Prayer, to sweeping the entire house, to cooking the varieties before the clock struck 12, to taking lunch to the farm for her husband and brother-in-law, to again cooking dinner and simultaneously managing other petite tasks like attending to frequent calls of her in-laws, to shopping out for households, was all she did on a daily basis. And amongst all this, she tried to figure out what an institution like marriage actually meant?

She got an acceptance into family after delivery of her first baby and that too not because her husband loved her as of now or her in-laws developed a sense of care for her but because she was on the threshold of continuing their generation. This period of 9 months was like a queen’s reign for her. She named it and it was at her service, the best of clothes, eatables and whatever she desired for.

Kuwar, a fair complexioned baby boy, liberated her from being a blotch on the pride of Raghuvanshis’.

And out of the blue, things transformed for her. She discovered new facets of life, motherhood marking the very start. With each step Kuwar took forth, a novel quandary was waiting for this inexperienced girl. And she, with all her efforts, was ready to combat them. Yes, there was someone to help her now, Govind. He was in love with her. Life changed its connotations; she became a wife genuinely after she became a mother.

And then life began. She felt like a bird that could spread its wings, fly high, and explore the vastness of existence. Marriage, love, commitment, she could now completely relate to. The perception of her in laws also revolutionized with elapse of time, she became more of a daughter than daughter-in-law.

This was the house where she was brought 54 years back. She acquired different roles that of a wife, a mother, a daughter-in-law, a mother-in-law and finally a grandmother, and this dwelling were evident of her being just to each of it. She could feel each of the brick reciting her past life, the air gently tickling her and reminding her of all those rejuvenating moments. A young girl as delicate as a petal transformed into an emotionally and physically stable woman here. She had made her decision, her heart and soul resides here, and she would breathe h er last here.

There are some places where we love to hang out with some of our best pals and yes I am all set to write about one such place. It’s about 15 feet above the ground, not very spacious but yes very airy and totally awesome place! It’s none other than tank top of Meharkunj apartment and the person who is my partner in crime is AKANKSHA PRIYAM. I call it a crime cause as a kid I had this mindset that everyone who went up there were weirdo’s and moreover girls never went up there, it was always the guys and I think we two are the one who started this trend.

An iron ladder which is fixed to the ground leads up there. Off course one needs to be careful cause we can fall while going up and coming down and that reminds me of the fact that I did fall once when I hurried after listening to my mum’s voice! But I am an accident prone person, and these things do not alter my determination much.

So talking about the place, it’s like it can accommodate 6-7 people, but I and Akanksha would actually dislike to take someone along with us up there. One can view a good range of vicinity which basically included lots of vegetation, some private houses and apartments. Especially after a little drizzle, the sky looks marvelously stunning and clear from there. I remember we sometimes try to figure out different patterns which are randomly created during cloudy weather. There are all sorts of birds that one can see. Some are the migrating ones which form very orderly pattern as they proceed and some totally random like crows and sparrows, but I guess each of it looks gorgeous. And sometimes there are unknown kids playing in the nearby apartments who wave to us and its lovely to wave back!

Now a list of things we do there. Actually there is no list it’s all random! We chat, we laugh,we recall some excellent memories of our childhood, sometimes I go mad and feel like yelling and that is the moment when Akanksha acts sensibly and stops me, we guess random cloud patterns, we see kids and sometimes we even see guys and that’s normal..and moreover that’s rare..very rare I guess…very very rare I guess..anyways..and the latest was our photo shoot..up above, random poses..lots of laughter..it was heaven!!!

And I guess all this ultimate fun was possible because I had you Akanksha Priyam! (Don’t fly! Come down) And now that you are all set to start your college life, I hope things would not change and every time we meet during our common holidays, we would do the same, ever and ever again!!!!

As I write this piece, I feel very heavy hearted. Mrs Rekha Srivastava, my history teacher, passed away this morning. She taught me when I was in class 8th. Long time….yet the memories are so fresh.

Mrs. Srivastava was indeed a fantastic person to know. Down to earth, loving and very caring she was. I remember once she told us that she must be very elder to our mothers and that we should be comfortable enough to share our problems with her.

History and Art Education was the two subjects that she taught us. As a teacher, she took utmost care that not only the students who were good in studies grasped things but also the weaker ones were with the class. Indian Freedom Movement was the course syllabus for us that year. And she taught us each and every lesson not with the purpose that we gained marks but because she wanted us to know about our country and the martyrs who laid down their lives with a vision of independent India. And yes, as each lesson progressed, we were into it. History had never seemed so interesting. And the day she finished with our syllabus, we all students stood up and sung the national anthem together as a mark of respect to our nation. We had developed the sense of patriotism within us and Mrs. Srivastava was the force behind all this.

Art education that year was about the basic arts. We started with pot painting, candle making, crafts made out of ice cream sticks. Girls made even more intricate crafts which I had never heard of even. And one fine day Mrs. Srivastava asked us as to which art we would like to learn next and there were suggestions like painting, clay art, etc. and I remember her reply in her exact words. She said “I know these art forms are interesting. But no one amongst you suggested cooking or knitting. As girls, you should all know this. I know cooking wouldn’t be possible in school buy yes, we can learn to knit.” We all agreed and then began the quest to learn this art. I call it a quest because maximum of us had never even thought that we would ever be learning to knit, that too in school. I tried my best to learn and whenever I went wrong, she called me up and taught me the correct way. We donated 60 scarfs along with the hard bound copies we had made earlier to Julie School kids.

More than the subject she taught us about life. How life is pleasant sometimes and very atrocious the very next moment! I remember her once narrating a tale about her driver who had burnt his only bed so that he could keep his room warm to protect his kids from the chilling weather outside.
She always wanted us to be good people along with being students. I remember once she had said that we would be growing up and along with being a daughter, someday we would be a wife, a daughter-in-law, a mother and with each of these relations coming our way life would be very challenging yet very beautiful.

And then one fine day one of my friend Sneha Jha was sobbing in class. It was Mrs. Srivastava’s class and she asked Sneha the reason behind it. Sneha kept mum. Mrs Srivastava guessed all the possibilities from her being ill to fights between friends but she declined all. And then someone from the class itself informed Mrs.Srivastava that Sneha was crying because Mrs.Srivastava would be leaving us very soon. She was shifting to Mumbai. That was the time I got to know that she was leaving. All that all she said was “girls, don’t make it difficult for me to go.” And after a few days, she left. I remember her last session with us. She had worn an orange and green saree with whit bangles. She had a talk for about half an hour and basically told us to become good humans. We all cried and even she did.

When I think of all this today, I feel puzzled because I am a person with a very bad memory. I forget birthdays, phone numbers and some times even the names of people I was once very close to and yet I remember Mrs. Srivastava and every detail associated with her so minutely as though it all happened just yesterday. Perhaps because I respected her loved her from within! And today when she is no more with us, I feel very upset. I pray to god to give strength to her family and friends to bear this sorrow.

Mam, your teaching will always help us in walks of our life. It was a great opportunity to know a person like you who in herself is nothing less than a legend.
I will miss you.

“Hey which country do you belong to?” asked a man nearly 60.
“I am an Indian, from the state Bihar, the land where Gautam Buddha attained wisdom. I replied and you?”
“I am a chinese by religion, a malaysian by nationality and a follower of Buddhism. Call me Uncle Choo, I must be a little elder that your father! What’s your name young lady?”
“ I am Surabhi.”
“ Now, how do you pronounce it?”
“Its Surabhi, Su..Ra…Bhi. My name symbolizes fragrance.”
“Oh! Lovely! And you have come here for a holiday?” he asked.
“Yes, with my family. My parents and my younger brother!”

Papa had asked me and Saurabh (my younger brother) to wait at the Malaysian Railway Station by the time he completed with the formalities so that we could proceed to Genting, our next destination. Though we were instructed to be a bit reserved, as you cannot be sure whether a person is genuine or fake and that too when you are in a foreign land, I could not resist myself when Uncle Choo initiated a talk. A man nearly 60, short height about 5’2 or so in a casual T-shirt, big glasses and a cap, he was noticing me and Saurabh before we got into an actual conversation.

“So, what do you do?”
“We both are students. I am pursuing engineering and my brother is a school student.”
“ That’s good. And are you carrying, what do you call it? Which is tangy in taste, with lots of spices. I had it once when one of my friends came from India!
“You mean pickles! Oh I don’t have it right now.”

I giggled as it was now confirmed that foreigners have this notion that Indian carry stuffs like pickles and other home made eatables wherever they go!

He then talked about his culture, the way people greeted each other there, their traditional dress and their rituals. He even asked me about the same and listened to me with keen interest. He told me that one should always respect his customs cause they give us our identity.

He appeared much attached to his family. I could make out that his son didn’t take proper care of him. As a matter of fact he didn’t say anything which wasn’t in favour of his son but I could sense it. He told me to take good care of my parents when they grew old, to respect them and love them always.

He asked me as to when I would visit Malaysia for the nest time. I said I wasn’t sure; it all depends upon my dad and his schedule. And he joked that may be some years later, I could come with my husband for my honeymoon.

We chatted for about next 45 min or so before my parents came. He told my papa that both of us were fantastic kids! He helped papa with the required paper work to be performed before we could leave Malaysia. Papa also discussed about the markets in Singapore and Genting as a person local to the place could give authentic information.

This snap posted above was taken early next morning at an intermediate station where our routes parted. He wished us good luck for future and we parted.
This was my first and perhaps my last meeting with him. I had never imagined that I would meet with a person on a unfamiliar land, who had absolutely no connections with me, and who would give me valuable learning for life. In a overseas country where people from your own place, speaking same language as yours behave as if they have absolutely no connections with you, this man made me believe that it is not you nationality or language that makes you closer, all you need is love and a pure heart to bond.

Uncle Choo, I respect you from the bottom of my heart and will always cherish the time spent with you. May god bless you always!

1 file received….2 files received…gosh!!!

I was literally shivering. How can this happen? After all my mobile was in silent mode…how can my message tone ring! All eyes on me…students staring….. but thank god my teacher didn’t notice.

Bluetooth, an excellent technology for passing of videos, pictures and songs from one Bluetooth enabled device to other. But there are other usages too. Like for example for engineers, it serves an efficient tool for cheating in practical exams. Wondering! Let me explain. Engineers are a breed who prefers to study just before exams. Reasons to this may be varied, for exams lack of interest, lack of good faculty at times, too many assignments and other extra curricular activates to handle! But yes last minute studies actually work, and off lately I have started believing that it not only works but it rocks. It is essential to study for the main papers but practicals…..no way…after all they are practical application as the name suggest…why mug up pages of theory for it!

I had my practical paper today. Programs… too lengthy to memorize…and without even understanding the logic behind it and performing it even for once, mug it up….never!! Anyways I reached class and my friend assured me that there is no need to worry because he had snap of each page of the file and he would send me the required ones after I was allotted the program.

And this is why my cell rang in the middle of class! My god! I wonder if my teacher would have observed, what on earth could have had happened! I almost freezed..cause it rang not just once but twice. My hands trembled as I tried to put off the tone. Nervousness enveloped me and I switched off my cell. Surabhi….are you mad…how come you have entered the examination hall before putting your cell on silent mode…comments like this followed. But it was silent…and my message tone was off…even I don’t know how this happened. Maybe because I haven’t tried out cheating that often or maybe because I tried to deceive and was tricked by the so called reliable technology!
Today I pledge that the next time I try any of this activity, I would be extra careful for sure, cause it isn’t illegal until you get caught but to avert yourself from getting caught, you need to be extra cautious!

9th Feb.- Chocolate day

Did you get your share of chocolate? This is the question in most of minds round here. Well!! I must confess no chocolates for me (except that one of my friends’ offered me some candy).

Frankly speaking these days are not meant for singles. Or maybe, the entire valentine week isn’t. But it is really fascinating, I mean there is no need to show off in love, but yes, celebrations are appreciated once in a while. Rose day, propose day, kiss day, hug day, teddy day, promise day and finally valentine day, yes 7 great days to appreciate your love in a special way!

I gave a chocolate to a boy, aged 11, who handles a nearby grocery store. Actually that shop belongs to his father but he was out regarding his insurance work. This kid, who is barely, 3.6 feet tall (approx), was trying his best to deal with his customers. We had asked for a sachet of shampoo and this kid was finding it difficult to take it out cause it was kept at a greater height. But his determination, must say was splendid. He brought a chair, and in spite of me saying not to climb it, because I feared he would fall, he managed to bring down the sachets. There was a spark in him, to achieve, to work and to fulfil his ambitions even if they seemed tough at his age and his reach.

And then I realised that there was nothing to be demoralised about. If that kid, who at this age should be playing around with is friends or maybe going to school, is running his father’s grocery store so well, then we, who have all luxuries should not make commotion about silly things. Amidst the Huss and fuss, of college kids celebrating valentine week, I came across this kid, who had nothing to celebrate but yet was so composed.

Life is to live. Problems would arise but accept it, face it and get the best out of everything.

THIS WAS THE BEST CHOCOLATE DAY I EVER CELEBRATED…THANKS KIDDO…YOU INSPIRED ME REALLY!!!

Its 19th September, 12:18 am and here I am listening one of the tracks “ aaj din chadiya”, by Rahet Ali Khan. Yes, people may think that there isn’t anything great about it. But I guess; there is something definitely great about it. Right now I am sitting in the Ladies Waiting room at Lucknow station. Yups! It quite late. But I have to catch a train early morning at 6:20. As my hostel is a bit too far it would have been difficult for me to come that early. Though two of my friends volunteered to take the responsibility of bringing us to station early morning, I felt like trying out a night out at railway station.

My parents were a little angry about this night out at railway station stuff. But I had no options cause this trip to home was planned suddenly after a mass bunk declared in class. And arranging for tickets so soon isn’t really possible. That is why we had to opt for this morning train. By “we” I mean an other friend of mine. She also resides in Patna. We would be going along. Presently she is with two of my other classmates, who had come all along to enquire about our well being. Now, it might strike as to why I am not out with them. This is actually because I was hit by a bike today while coming to the station. We were travelling in a rickshaw when a bike from opposite direction came and hit my leg. I got hurt. It’s paining but the intensity of this injury measured tomorrow morning I guess! And as for the guy who hit me, I don’t know whether it was because of the dim light on road or his poor concentration or actually because he was looking at the rickshaw and not in front, he ended up doing this. I started to panic but seeing that the crowd could create a scene, I kept mum. And this is the reason that I am alone in this room, as my friends feel that I should take rest so that this injury gets better.

Too many new experiences as for today. I mean, a hit by a bike & a night out at the railway station. But itsn’t that bad as it sounds. This Waiting Room is kind of good. It’s a big hall consisting of attached bathrooms. There are two ceiling fans and two AC’s for maintaining cool environment. Apart from me there are two aunties, who are busy chatting as they have to catch a train at 2 am.

I have to spend about 5 and a half hour more here. I guess, I would be watching some movies. Actually, I just completed watching a movie a few minutes back. “LITTILE MANHATHON”, was a very cute movie. A movie about two kids. Gabe, 10 & Rosemary, 11. Gabe has a all boy’s group before he meets Rosemary in karate classes after which he starts liking her. The story has a good ending. A must watch because it is an innocent tale of two kids!

Two hours later:-

It’s getting kind of cold here. And to my horror I haven’t brought any bed sheets along. And I had to no option but to use my friend’s bed sheet. But it is also not helping cause it’s really cold. And I have done something stupid right now. But it feels better. I have actually taken out two more tops out of my bag and presently I am wearing three of them. I notice another girl has entered the waiting room and she is smiling cause I am looking funny. But who cares! As long as I don’t feel cold, it’s ok. And I am going for a nap again. Good night!

Its 5:30 a.m. I was woken by mummy’s call. She said that I should get ready. Well! I think I slept for two hours or so. But this injury has worsened. It has swelled up. I hope my bone hasn’t cracked but I can walk so it’s not a crack definitely. As about the whole episode of ‘night out on a waiting room’ is concerned, I am happy it’s over. It was a drastic one and I realised it during midnight when it was freezing cold and I was literally shivering. So no more night outs like this in future for sure. And as of now I should get ready for my train.