Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Three Lives ...concluded !!!

Those 24 hours were the longest and most tiring earth’s gyration of my life. I still find it hard to recollect that when and where I slept that night. But the Time melted, the cruel first light of the sun stroked my eyes and I found my self covered in white sheet on a folding bed at roof top.

When I crawled down, I finally found something to cherish about. There was less foot fall on the floor, found very few shouting and running kids and their parents chasing them, teaching etiquettes and manners as if they have never passed through this stage of life.
I have never understood why these parents burdened their kids with matured thoughts (their definition of mature ness) on the growing kids, without realizing the heinous crime of curbing the amazing joy of childhood.

I spotted Ravi at corner of the dinning hall. When I approached him in order to know about the status of rush (this reminds me about a analogy that when ever you want to measure Inflation in your area buy eggs, of course when there’s no flu killing the birds :) ) and elongation of his muscles, he gave a very happy look.

Perhaps thinking that it’s a right time, he mentioned that since the exodus of relatives was on progress, even he would like a take a half day off. He added that his mother has been diagnosed with tumor in stomach (not very serious type, though) and he has to take her to Lucknow medical college at the end of that week. At last, hesitatingly he added that he needed his accounts to be done, assurancing that he’ll be coming back next week, if needed.

Lately the word ‘hospital’ has started haunting me like never before. First it was Tulsi now its Ravi’s mother; I patted my self for taking a 90 degree turn from that profession after my 12th exams. I believe meeting a code delivery deadline is much happier a job than improving some one’s lifeline everyday.

I assured Ravi that we will be more than happy to give him the money which he deserved and more than that, why a hesitation in asking for something which he was entitled for.
Some time I think that Almighty has definitely got some thing wrong in his Rule book else a 15 year old would not have seen so many difficult moments of life so soon.

Sanjay hurried in front from me that afternoon; making me to think that when did I see him taking rest last time. When I stopped him asking what he is rushing about, he mentioned that every thing should come to normality before he leaves for village next morning. And that included, moving spices back to kitchen, unused cold drink boxes back to store, gas cylinders back to the people whom it belong to …
He was man of never ending agenda and never tiring muscles and attitude.

That night even I started packing my bags. I find this task as toughest part of the journey, thanks to my mom who used to do it for me during my boarding school days, but now I can’t ask her also. I have never understood why people fold their cloths properly even though they know that there’s no guarantee that they will get it intact/fresh at the destination, Hello… we travel in Indian railway, where you have to fight for the bag space under you seat, so what, even if it belongs to you, the other co-traveler came first !!!

All my bags were packed and I was ready to go. I was standing near outside the door, and I hate to raise my hand, and say good bye to every body, but the driver was waiting and blowing the horn.

I felt that I was forgetting something but that feeling was not new, it comes every time (like deja vu ) when I am about to leave. But it has true meaning also, last time I had forgotten my tooth brush, mobile charger and Mumbai’s flat key. So here I saw, trying hard to recollect every thing. But couldn’t find any, perhaps I was improving lately.

Went inside the car, putting my bags on the back seat, I scroll down the window to wave everybody.
Suddenly I realized that I didn’t see Tulsi and his wife in last 24 hours. I asked to my father in loud voice, “how is Tulsi, Papa? Is he back from the hospital? We need to make that guy realize that he is jeopardizing the future of his 4 unmarried girls”

It looked as if he overlooked my question and nodded unwillingly. I asked the driver to slow down and again asked it aloud.

I got a reply that Tulsi was dead, he died with in an hour of his arrival to hospital, while getting his first and last bottle of the syringed diet ……..

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Three Lives ... Part V

Just after one and half days of syringed diet, Tulsi was back to work. I was dazed to see him on attic, lying beside HPCL gas cylinder as silent as crud of this lonely planet. “For God sake, take him away from here, why on the earth is he here, get some pity on this poor guy” I squalled. But before his wife answered, I realized that it was as simple as Black and White. They can’t afford his 2 days stay in a private hospital, more over that extra leisure will make him apathetic.

Some say “Time runs” but now I started believing that “Time flies”.
Seconds are converted into minutes, minutes into hours and before you realize it’s another brand new day.

And there I was, tossing and turning into bed on the morning of day zero, too lazy to pull myself out of bed. What amazes me is the fact that how my mother manages to wake up at 4 every morning running, managing all over the house perhaps that’s why moms are called best managers.

I was really proud of my self that morning as I walked towards basing (so what if the eyes were closed). Waking at 9 am (when you are at home) is not at all fun.

Suddenly I saw some thing very unusual; one of my cousin sister was filling some fuzzy but traumatic words in my mother’s ears. It didn’t take much time to conjecture something fishy there. Before she finished the word “Tulsi”, I had climbed those 18 stairs in 3 steps.

The scene in that corner of the room was bone marrow heating.

It looked as if his heart had displaced towards his throat making turbulent blood flow look like a fountain. Adding to the misery, her wife had kept his head in her lap which made her sari blood soaked. Her youngest daughter was crying her throat out as if she was warding ‘Yama’ away.

Moment like that was the true test of your act to work with conviction. I plead both of them to stop making it worst. I took his head in my hand and made him to sit so that the flow stops. It worked, the flow stopped but he looked as if he was struggling to breath. At that moment when I looked towards her daughter I shivered to see the acute pain of being orphan in her eyes.

Before people start standing around us and making this misery a melodrama, I called up my father and sent him SOS signal. I sent one audience from the crowd to bring 'Dr Misra' who practices round the corner. With assistance from other audience, I lifted him up and rushed outside.

But there was no Dr Misra outside; I gave a puzzled look towards standing crowd. I was then told that Dr Misra didn’t like to be bothered in morning before 10am. Perhaps lives struggling between 9am to 5pm were not his area of interest.

But another fact was, Dr Misra had married women half of her age even though her first wife was alive, and that made him untouchable in society. That was very common of our society who definitely does not poke its nose in someone’s personal life. And of course we were part of that society.

My father moved forward and checked his pulse; he was still standing tall in the war against his life. Driver started the vehicle and we moved Tulsi with her wife, who was still holding her head. Father called up few doctor and assured her wife that they are already there for him, and he also accompanied them to the hospital.

Once the vehicle moved away from our focal point, everybody rushed back to normality as nothing had happened few minutes back.

*****

It happens only in marriages when you realize that inflation is touching Milky Way. Aloo,pyaj and Kathal are just half in price in wholesale mandi than city’s open bazaar. No doubt middle men in market will run for life once organized retailer like Wall mart or Ambani try to capitalize this profit.

For a change, buying aloo, puaj and Kathal in ton was really exciting, more over your talent to dig the relation or influence the wholesale vala, so that he gives some discount is a real art. What amazed me was the fact that how these middle men make money by creating a gap in supply chain in the mandi. Shimla Mirch which was in demand that morning (thanks to the Lagan) was saling crazy, and realizing this fact, its price was already tripled before 11 o’clock in morning, the exact one hour before the arrival of the truck. It’s very hippocratic of our politicians and government, who claims that Kala Bazari has been removed long back from India.

Arranging, monitoring and getting things done on time, is quite a challenge in any wedding. Sanjay, Ravi and everybody were on there toes that day. Sanjay took special care of the cooks so that they don’t slip the stuff in there bags. It seems, they demand every thing at least one and half what is needed, and slip the remaining half in there bags. First I thought it was very cynical of us, how can some one be so avaricious, but once my eyes became the witness, I had no option but to put Sanjay behind them. He was a man who can make a slow and not steady to win the race.

No marriage arrangement in this world is perfect. Even when Tom Cruse married her fiancée Kate in castle but didn’t invite media to cover it, they bitched about there marriage. But people, that day, liked our arrangements, except few nay sayers, but no body give a damn to such creatures.

to be continued ...

Monday, May 5, 2008

Three Lives ... Part IV

Some say “Time runs” but I believe “Time jumps”. The day was coming closer as the earth was gyrating on its axis.
The whispering was spread all around in house that morning, and kept on increasing as inflation in India. I couldn’t keep my self in bed and woke up at ungodly hour of 7 am. I had to ask the girl, who comes for sweeping and was present at that time, about the raison d'être of that Careless Whisper.

It was Tulsi, it seems he was drinking to death these days. But his wife and daughters were gritty enough to fight with Yamraj, (with the help of Doctor, of course) every time.
He was hospitalized last night when he came highly drunk and started vomiting blood after dinner. He was rushed to a nearby private nursing home and made to drink glucose (with needles in his vein) for a change.

It was not Tulsi’s health which was reason of panic that morning (do we really care so much about a cook??? That would be so human!!) but what troubled everyone was “Who has the courage to cook Kachauri and lunch for 35 people.” The zenith of inhumanity was reached when unhappiness was expressed for the absence of Tulsi and I was asked to troubleshoot this problem. I didn’t have any way but to approach my sister who knew few servants in her locality (she had provided us Tulsi, by the way).

Looking at the sensibility of the matter my sister called up few servants. Some how, Tulsi’s wife came to know about this hunt and she rushed towards my sister’s apartment. Her face was pale and it was written all over on her face that she had not taken even a nap last night. Her wretched voice came out with a whisper “Didi,Humare rahte aap kisi aur ko kyu khooj rahi hai?” I looked towards my sister with a “That would be inhuman!!” expression. Reading my face, my sister assured her that she need not to worry about money and work, and should take care of her ailing husband.

But Tulsi’s wife was not ready to go back, she mentioned that her husband is much better now and more over it’s not first time that he was rushed to the hospital in the mid of night. She added that her daughters were at the nursing home to take care of him.

I didn’t see any other way but to take her on my bike to home, already my cell phone has sung “Aane vala pal jaane vala hai” 5 times in last half an hour. A gentle breeze of relief was visible on everybody face once they saw Tulsi’s wife with me. My mother asked her about Tulsi’s health and mentioned that her presence at hospital was more important than here. But after hearing the improving condition of her husband she allowed her to start work.

Things came to normality once everybody had their breakfast, it seems that Tulsi’s wife had a better hand at spice than her husband. Ravi was as usual busy serving everybody even though a sign of grief was visible on his face. May be Tulsi was not his relative but only a co-worker, but definitely he was the one who helped him at the time of need.

to be continued ...

Thursday, May 1, 2008

Three Lives ... Part -III

******
Sanjay
******

They say that it’s 80% motivation and only 20% brawn power and etcetera which makes success possible. Napoleon di Buonaparte lost in the war or Waterloo not because of strong coalition forces but due to low motivation of his army in bitter cold of Russia.The self motivated people in this country are as rare as Bose or Azad.

When he came along with me first time for shopping, his face looked familiar. I didn’t ask much about him thinking that he will feel bad as he looked comfortable and confident in coming along(more over I don’t know what’s wrong with me but most of the faces look familiar to me nowadays, specially the people from Venus :-)), in contrary to the other available assistors in the house, whose first facial reaction is generally “NOT AGAIN.”

He was there with me the whole day helping, arranging the stuffs for the function which was merely 2 days away. At one time sitting with bags and containers on Riksha, another time holding bags behind me on the bike; he was a great doer and helper.
Next day noon, when some labor monitoring job (The most difficult one, “Great Lord, It’s difficult to get work done through laborers from north as they need Khaini break, on every 15 minutes”) was commanded to me I was as nervous as my first day in my college campus. I looked towards Sanjay; he gave me a gentle “I WILL HANDLE THAT” nod. To my amazement the work was done in afternoon which everybody was expecting (looking at the pace and 15 minute break things of the laborers) to be done till evening. “He knows how to handle these men” commented my father when I appreciated Sanjay’s proactiveness and assistance.

The very thought that came in my mind was, “perhaps he was a right man at wrong place and job.” The corporate world hunt for the people like him who are Doers and problem solvers and of course very rare to find now a days. At work the point which I mention to my team is “You all are hired, not to come and tell the problem (as most of us do, when we face some obstacle at work) but to find the solution and solve it.” As it has been wisely said "world is not interested in storms you encountered but in whether you brought the ship in safely."

Sanjay is from my native village, few years back when he was badly clawed in a property dispute by his relatives, that’s when my father stood with him and helped him (with the influence of Big guns of village) and till this day, he comes to meet and stand with my father whenever he hears that he is visiting village.


to be continued .....