A streak of Luck

It is said that hard work is a virtue that wins you everything that you fancy whilst sloth is a deadly sin responsible for fall of even the brightest star. This must have been an adage coming from old times when man’s confidence in his own will was in full swing. However, these are days of uncertainty where every principle people believe in can be subverted.

Andrew, the richest man of the town, was blessed with two sons namely Richard and Jack. Richard had taken after his father because he was as industrious as his father whereas Jack was more of a slacker. Richard always woke up at the crack of dawn and went with his father to the factory and helped his father in supervising the labour. But Jack went on sleeping well past afternoon and never bothered even to put in an appearance at the factory. The two brothers, who were like chalk and cheese, did not talk much to each other since they did not share any common interests. Jack, having a strong liking for art, was always seen in art galleries, concerts and cinemas. On the other hand, his older brother Richard was obsessed with expansion of his father’s business.

Both the parents were able to see how indifferent and careless Jack had become. His obsession with art and music kept worrying his parents and brother alike. They tried talking him into taking responsibilities for himself. It did not seem to work. They admonished him but to little avail. Ultimately Andrew made a very harsh decision and disowned him and told him to find a shelter and fend for himself. That very evening Jack left him home leaving behind memories of what used to be his home.

The collaborative effort of the father and son saw their business scale new heights. Their business went from strength to strength and expanded to other towns as well. As the family prospered, Richard started getting many matrimonial alliances from well established families. Finally, he chose to marry the only child of a rich merchant. The wedding took place with a great pomp and circumstance. There was a grand feast. A good number of people including some very distant relatives were invited but Jack was not invited.

Nobody had heard from Jack but he lived happily in a small village whose only prominent feature was an expansive cemetery where he used to go and sit for an hour every evening. His visits to the cemetery had aroused in him a strange interest in death and transience of life. He contemplated scenes of burials and people coming to their relatives’ graves and offering flowers. For a while he thought that this was a permanent settlement while the settlements in town were nothing but simply a temporary arrangement.

One evening he was sitting under a tree in the cemetery as usual and saw some people coming to a grave and putting some flowers and lighting incense sticks and candles. Death seems to bring everybody to their senses. It makes people give up the venomous qualities they have developed in their lives fighting and manipulating others. It makes people innocent again. Jack had not developed any evil quality since he had subsisted on alms give by people instead of working. Though he had been leading a very ordinary life without any comfort, he was satisfied that he had lived. Jack believed that getting disowned by his father and living on alms was better than giving up his quest for life in music and art.

His gaze rested on the grave where some people had put flowers. The people had left but the incense sticks and candles were still burning emitting pleasant fragrance. He looked at another grave and found that it had become derelict. Nobody seemed to have paid a visit to it for a long time. He wanted to iron out this disparity. He stood up, walked to the grave where some flowers had been left. He picked up a couple of flowers and put them on the derelict grave and went back to his seat and kept looking at both the graves.

There appeared somebody walking hurriedly towards him. Jack got frightened initially thinking that he might have flouted the law of the cemetery unknowingly.  The man in a black overall stood before him and offering him an envelope said, “Congratulations, sir!”

Before Jack could strike a conversation with him, the man asked him to open the envelope and read the document inside it. He started reading the document.

“I’ve lived alone for most of my life. Though fortune has always favoured me financially, it is a sad thing that I have no children to bequeath my property to. None of my relatives came to my burial. I declare that whosoever puts flowers on my grave without any selfish motive will become my heir. My legal advisor, who is carrying this letter, will be responsible for all the legalities.”

The first thing that preoccupied Shalini’s mind when she came to Baroda after her long stay in a small non-descript town called Palanpur, three hundred-odd kilometres away from Baroda, was to pay a visit to Narhari Amin Hospital and ask after her pregnant friend Savitri. Therefore, as soon as Shalini reached her uncle’s home, she had a cup of tea, unwound and hoped an auto-rickshaw to Narhari Amin Hospital. The familiar streets the auto-rickshaw passed through and the popular haunts she watched passing by sent her mind racing back to her university days when untrammelled by marital vows of fidelity and far away from parental scrutiny she ventured into hobnobbing with the most coveted studs of the university. The journey down her pleasant past left a wistful smile on her face and rueful tears hiding in the corners of her eyes. The rickshaw stopped at Narhari Amin Hospital. She got off it and walked to the hospital. She had a glance at the list of patients and hurried to room number 143, where her bosom friend Savitri had been admitted for last two weeks. Savitri was lying on a bed. Her gaze was fixed on the snow white ceiling of the room, as if she was watching her colourful heyday against the drab whiteness of the ceiling. Her crestfallen face got livened up by a much awaited smile when Shalini’s appearance distracted her eyes and set them free from the entanglement of reminiscence. ‘Hi, how are you?’, asked Shalini. ‘I’m fine. And what about you?’ , said Savitri. ‘Though my life does not lack anything that a happy marriage needs, I feel a disturbing vacuum somewhere in my life. I don’t know what I should call it but I know my life was much better during the university days than it is now.’, Shalini spoke. ‘Yes, dear we know that there were dreams in those young eyes and an inexhaustible zest for life in us those days. But we must pass through such a rosy phase remembering the truth that nothing lasts forever.’, Savitri spoke with a consoling tone. ‘And how’s your husband?’, Shalini enquired. ‘Arun is a man of great understanding and a very adaptable human being, I must admit. Though it’s been a year since we got married, we both get along very well and accommodate each other. In spite of his hectic schedule, he manages to steal some moments away from his professional life and takes me to the cinema and posh restaurants every week. He’s a man who loves springing pleasant surprises on me. He takes care of each of my needs.’, enthused Savitri. ‘Do you meet or talk to your old flame Mohan?’, asked Shalini. An awkward silence ensued. ‘You know everybody has his share of happiness in his life. But, unfortunately, sometimes this happiness is nothing more than a flash in the pan. However short-lived the flash is, it certainly lights up everything, I assume’, said Savitri. The lines forming on Shalini’s brow indicated her whetted curiosity. ‘Please tell me whether you’ve broken up with Mohan or you still meet him furtively without your husband’s knowledge?’, Shalini enquired. ‘Yes, he met me once. I can’t recall exactly when. There was an abyss of indecision I was helplessly falling in before my marriage. And ultimately, I decided to meet him before I was going to marry Arun. When I was getting married to Arun I knew that I was going to live in limbo swinging between life and death, between pretence and essence, between fond past and uncertain future.’, Savitri said. ‘Dear, you’ve got to forget your past and flow where life leads you.’, spoke Shalini. ‘Yes. I agree. But sometimes past leaves its indelible marks on you and they live on as a reminder of your golden days and like the fragrance of flowers still permeating the air they remind you of the memorable spring that has gone by.’, Savitri said. ‘Do you miss Mohan?’ , Shalini asked as she was trying to decipher the words spoken by Savtri. ‘Yes, I miss him very much and wish he were with me at every moment of my life.’, said Savitri. ‘What do you do when you miss him?’, asked Shalini. ‘I simply look at the reminder of his true love that he’s given me.’, said Savitri pointing her finger at her stomach.

Being Love

What a lovely evening!

The sun sinking in the sea and boats sailing back to the shore.

Let me fall in love once gain.

But oh no..!

How painful is this fall..! It makes one bleed.

Better to love someone.

But then I have to embark upon a long journey.

No. Not then and there

But here and now.

Falling in love is nothing but suffering.

Finding a love is nothing but chasing a mirage.

Then what to do?

Let me become love.

Alas, becoming needs efforts

And efforts are affectations.

Then, now what?

Let me be love.

Being love here and now.

 Token of True Love

The first thing that preoccupied Shalini’s mind when she came to Baroda after her long stay in a small non-descript town called Palanpur, three hundred-odd kilometres away from Baroda, was to pay a visit to Narhari Amin Hospital and ask after her pregnant friend Savitri. Therefore, as soon as Shalini reached her uncle’s home, she had a cup of tea, unwound and hoped an auto-rickshaw to Narhari Amin Hospital. The familiar streets the auto-rickshaw passed through and the popular haunts she watched passing by sent her mind racing back to her university days when untrammelled by marital vows of fidelity and far away from parental scrutiny she ventured into hobnobbing with the most coveted studs of the university. The journey down her pleasant past left a wistful smile on her face and rueful tears hiding in the corners of her eyes.

The rickshaw stopped at Narhari Amin Hospital. She got off it and walked to the hospital. She had a glance at the list of patients and hurried to room number 143, where her bosom friend Savitri had been admitted for last two weeks. Savitri was lying on a bed. Her gaze was fixed on the snow white ceiling of the room, as if she was watching her colourful heyday against the drab whiteness of the ceiling. Her crestfallen face got livened up by a much awaited smile when Shalini’s appearance distracted her eyes and set them free from the entanglement of reminiscence.

‘Hi, how are you?’, asked Shalini.

‘I’m fine. And what about you?’ , said Savitri.

‘Though my life does not lack anything that a happy marriage needs, I feel a disturbing vacuum somewhere in my life. I don’t know what I should call it but I know my life was much better during the university days than it is now.’, Shalini spoke.

‘Yes, dear we know that there were dreams in those young eyes and an inexhaustible zest for life in us those days. But we must pass through such a rosy phase remembering the truth that nothing lasts forever.’, Savitri spoke with a consoling tone.

‘And how’s your husband?’, Shalini enquired.

‘Arun is a man of great understanding and a very adaptable human being, I must admit. Though it’s been a year since we got married, we both get along very well and accommodate each other. In spite of his hectic schedule, he manages to steal some moments away from his professional life and takes me to the cinema and posh restaurants every week. He’s a man who loves springing pleasant surprises on me. He takes care of each of my needs.’, enthused Savitri.

‘Do you meet or talk to your old flame Mohan?’, asked Shalini.

An awkward silence ensued.

‘You know everybody has his share of happiness in his life. But, unfortunately, sometimes this happiness is nothing more than a flash in the pan. However short-lived the flash is, it certainly lights up everything, I assume’, said Savitri.

The lines forming on Shalini’s brow indicated her whetted curiosity.

‘Please tell me whether you’ve broken up with Mohan or you still meet him furtively without your husband’s knowledge?’, Shalini enquired.

‘Yes, he met me once. I can’t recall exactly when. There was an abyss of indecision I was helplessly falling in before my marriage. And ultimately, I decided to meet him before I was going to marry Arun. When I was getting married to Arun I knew that I was going to live in limbo swinging between life and death, between pretence and essence, between fond past and uncertain future.’, Savitri said.

‘Dear, you’ve got to forget your past and flow where life leads you.’, spoke Shalini.

‘Yes. I agree. But sometimes past leaves its indelible marks on you and they live on as a reminder of your golden days and like the fragrance of flowers still permeating the air they remind you of the memorable spring that has gone by.’, Savitri said.

‘Do you miss Mohan?’ , Shalini asked as she was trying to decipher the  words spoken by Savtri.

‘Yes, I miss him very much and wish he were with me at every moment of my life.’, said Savitri.

‘What do you do when you miss him?’, asked Shalini.

‘I simply look at the token of his true love that he’s given me.’, said Savitri pointing her finger at her stomach.

With wonder in my eyes I kept looking at her beauty blossoming in her teenage. I still remember her coy face and a blush sweeping across it. And her eyes full of dreams are still lingering in deep recesses of my mind. However, millions waves have risen and fallen on the ocean of time since then. I cannot help averting my eyes from her when in a vain she tries to obliterate the indelible lines drawn by time on her ephemeral body- the body that has housed plenty of loves and yielded with thanksgiving shining stars of dark nights of love.

Heretic

One fish went astray out of its school and was washed ashore for a moment. She felt a gust of wind rushing against her fragile body and experienced harshness of the sun. A wave came and took her in to the ocean. She was fortunate to find her school. She described to her school the sea-shore. First the school derided her but she persisted. Then the school ostracised her. But she could not check her enthusiasm of sharing her knowledge of the terra incognita. And ultimately the school accused her of heresy and silenced her by lynching her.

English Language Teasing

Gambhirsinh, a very gullible rustic guy, recently caught a whim of learning the English language. Therefore, he visited several English classes and decided to join the one called Jai Ambe English Classes, which seemed to suit him.
On his first day in the class after paying all fees he took a seat in the front row and struggled hard, but in vain, to comprehend what the teacher was speaking in English. When other students noticed trace of discomfiture on Gambhirsinh’s face, they offered to translate the teacher’s talk and he became happy to hear everything in his mother tongue. While this private conversation in students’ mother tongue was going on, the teacher had a disdainful look at the group and consequently the group understood tacitly that the use of any language other than English was not welcome. So they stopped talking and resumed listening to the teacher intently.
After some time the teacher gave them a passage to read and asked them to answer the questions printed below the passage. Everybody was going through the passage easily but Gambhirsinh was wrestling with the text. His writhing movements drew the teacher’s attention to him and the teacher asked him, ‘Gambhirsinh, is there anything that requires my help?’. And Gambhirsinh responded, ‘Sir, please tell me the meaning of ‘baboon’’. ‘Any of a genus (Papio) of large gregarious primates of Africa and south-western Asia having a long square naked muzzle; also : any of several closely related primates,’ was the teacher’s answer, which caused more bewilderment to Gambhirsinh as he was an utter novice in learning the English language. The meaning of ‘baboon’ given by the teacher included a good number of words that Gambhirsinh had never come across. He asked the teacher, ‘But what is ‘genus’?’ And to his dismay, the teacher pontificated, ‘As you know this is an English class so it has no room for use of any other language except English. I’m not expected to explain to you things in your mother tongue, neither is any of the students here. I suggest you look up unfamiliar words in this dictionary.’ He passed him a bulky dog-eared dictionary.
Gambhirsinh felt a little embarrassed. However, he looked up the word ‘genus’ in the dictionary. It said: a class, kind, or group marked by common characteristics or by one common characteristic. Obviously, this was vague and did not make much sense to Gambhirsinh. He had a long list of words whose meaning he did not know and so wanted to ask the teacher but the teacher’s recommendation to consult a dictionary deterred him. As the teacher further went on giving an academic talk in English, Gambhirsinh’s mind was besieged by a very fundamental question: am I going to learn the English language in this way? But he did not have guts to ask anything.
The next day before coming to the class, Gambhirsinh had decided to speak his mind. He approached his teacher in private, summoning all his courage he spoke, ‘Sir, I request you to explain some things in my mother tongue. You know my English is very poor.’ The teacher answered him, ‘You know that we guarantee complete mastery of the English language after the completion of the course. And I hold a PhD in English from an “English” university. So nobody can stop you from learning English.’ These words silenced Gambhirsinh and he went back to his seat.
Two months passed but Gambhirsinh was not making any progress. English remained just as distant a possibility to him as ever. Now he really began to regret his decision and wanted the fees back. Utterly frustrated he met the teacher in private and demanded the fees back. On hearing this demand the teacher grimaced cunningly and said, ‘As you now that according to the policy of Jai Ambe English Classes, fees once paid can never be returned in any condition.’ ‘But your teaching is useless for me. I don’t think I’m going to learn English in this way.’ Then the teacher had a placatory smile and spoke, ‘Trust God, there’s no wave that does not reach the shore. If you have a strong desire, nobody can stop you learning English.’ This utterance injected temporary hope and transient enthusiasm in Gambhirsinh’s mind. Poor Gambhirsinh went back to his seat.
At home also he was making an ardent effort to learn English by reading English books, listening to BBC radio and watching English films. When he was in the classroom, he asked his teacher to tell him meanings of some words that he encountered in his reading and that were not given in his dictionary. There descended a formidable hush in the whole classroom and the teacher scrutinised Gambhirsinh and said, ‘A meaning does not lie in a dictionary; a meaning of a word does not lie in translation nor in explanation. The meaning of a word lies in constant interaction between the reader and the text.’ This made Gambhirsinh gobsmacked. He said, ‘Sir, sorry. I did not understand anything of what you have said.’ There was no answer from the teacher but sheer indifference on the teacher’s face.
The next day, Gambhirsinh was hell-bent on taking his fees back. He met the teacher and demanded the fees back. The teacher told him, ‘There can be many reasons for not being able to learn English. Some of them have been listed in this pamphlet. You might as well go through them.’ Gambhirsinh started reading the pamphlet. ‘First, you cannot learn English because you do not believe in patience. Second, none of your parents is of English origin. Third, you might have committed some sins in your past, which prevents you from learning English. Fourth, you cannot learn English because you have never been to England. Fifth, your dislike for English culture can also be responsible for your not being able to learn English. Sixth your teacher is not English.’ After going through these strange reasons for not being able to learn English, Gambhirsinh became more fuddled. When he vociferously demanded his money back, the teacher motioned at an office-boy and the office-boy started rubbing a stone on a brick. Pointing his finger at this bizarre thing, the teacher said, ‘Look at him.’ Gambhirsinh asked, ‘What’s he doing?’ The teacher answered, ‘He is trying to make a mirror of the brick by rubbing it. How long do you think it will take him?’ Gambhirsinh said, ‘The brick is not going to become a mirror, even though he keeps rubbing and polishing it for all his life.’ Then the teacher grinned and said, ‘Now you got me. You are a brick. And I can’t transform you into a mirror, however hard I rub you. A babul tree never bears mangos. You cursed soul...! You are genetically engineered in such a way that you can never learn the English language.’