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| By Aumaparna on Thursday, August 31, 2006 - 07:39 pm: |
Case Dismissed- On Marital Rape
Ankita Irani was an ace Advocate. She was known for her truthful, straightforward and blunt replies. It was taken for granted that if she takes up a case – she will Win ! Although an eye sore to the Criminal World but the awe that she carried was too much to defy. She had one motto though – Fight for the truth and only the truth.
Her secretary, Susmita, a Junior Trainee Advocate, came to her with a request….and she was very sure that Ankita Madam will keep her request. It was a case of ‘Marital Rape’, and Susmita had seen her Madam take up cases of the underdog and how she left no stone unturned to get them justice and she won.
“Madam , I have a very interesting case in hand…the person is actually a distant relative of mine – and it’s a case of Woman’s exploitation….” said Susmita.
“Is it ..Woman’s exploitation eh? So you know it already that it’s a case…& you have given it a name as well” said Ankita jokingly.
“No no madam, actually it’s a case of Marital Rape…she is a distant cousin of mine actually….its a sad case….”replied Susmita.
“How distant?” asked Ankita.
“Well a lot ..I have hardly met her ..but she happens to be related from my Mother’s side.”said Susmita.
“And what is her complaint?” asked Ankita.
“Marital rape….I mean her husband forces her to have sex daily with him….”said Susmita reluctantly.
“So?! Your cousin wants to have sex every fortnightly …or Monthly ..or yearly…how does she like to chalk out her sex-routine?” asked Ankita.
Susmita was totally taken aback by the nonchalant attitude of Ankita Madam. She thought that this case would excite Madam a lot and she would jump to take up the case ..but the scenario was totally different !
“No..madam…actually…I hardly know her..”Susmita said.
“Is she educated” asked Ankita.
“Oh! Ofcourse Madam – she has done History Hons from one of Kolkata’s most prestigious colleges – she got a higher 2nd Division.” replied Susmita.
“Hmm…so she is educated and she has been to a Metropolitan city for higher studies – which also means that she is amply exposed to City life – right?
“Ofcourse madam , she lives near Dumdum – which is now included under Kolkata”.
“So..has she told you her preferred sex-routine?” asked madam.
“No madam – I have not personally met her…just thinking if you would take the case, I’ll bring her to you..money is no problem madam – her father is a very rich Contractor.” replied Susmita.
“Then whats her problem?! Let her divorce that bloke and live happily ever after – her father has the money – let him help her start afresh – let her do some Professional Course or maybe B.Ed. and be independent ….and I was thinking that she belongs to some poor family whose parents have wed her off somehow – and now living hand to mouth…”
“Oh! No no Madam- they are very rich in fact – gave some kilos of gold in dowry as we hear – her Uncle is a Goldsmith and they have 3 big shops in barra bazaar.”
“So basically the victim of marital rape – is an educated Lady ,bred in metropolitan city, belongs to a rich family – right?”
“Yeah…madam..but you know the divorce is not possible – they are orthodox family – such things are a taboo in the society…”said Susmita.
“Well ,in that case, ask her to be like a door-mat and live sadly ever after with her husband…why ? she should thank her lucky stars that her husband is not going to some brothel or not going to watch some dance-balas in night club – he is seeking love from his legally wedded wife damn it !!...and what does her family expect the Indian Penal court to do ?! chalk out a sex-chart for her and hand it over to her husband I suppose ?”
“Well madam.. rumors are such that he ..her husband I mean.. is not all that loyal – he is having an affair with some neighborhood lady – someone’s wife – during morning hours, he spends time with her while her husband is in office” said Susmita.
“Morning hours he is spending time with a married desperate housewife !bravo! and when does he go to office may I know?” asked Madam.
“He is a businessman …just delegates the duties and then heads for that Lady’s house!”
“So?! The parents of the educated History honors girl did not find out about the future son-in-law.. and what about his own parents ? they don’t stop him from visiting that lady?
“I suppose they thought that after marriage he would be alright.. so the wedding took place in a haste….”
“Why?! Were they under the impression that Calcutta University Professors are teaching tantra-mantra to their History honors students that they thought she will heal their son with her magic touch?”
“Actually madam – she is averse to sex – she has more of a philosophical bent of mind..she writes poetry as well”
“And what is his education level? is he a graduate?”
“I don’t think so Madam.. he barely managed to pass Higher Secondary”
“Oh! Well, so this is where the problem lies – a total mismatch – a case of dumb parents wedding off their equally dumb daughter to some dumber and ‘lesser educated than her’ idiot !..and being exposed to films, movies and even blue movies which are easily available nowadays – what did she expect of marriage – her husband will read out stanzas from some Holy epic? Firstly, her parents should have found out the character and whereabouts of the fellow, then matched the education qualifications…did they meet ..or how long did they have a courtship period?” asked Madam.
“Courtship?! Oh! No madam – such things are not allowed in such families! They met only twice before marriage and that too with other family members around !”
“Oh! so such families are not ashamed to talk about their daughter’s sex life in public knowing very well what a joke they would be in the society eventually! Courtship does not mean ‘jumping on bed’ – its meeting and exchanging viewpoints ,likes and dislikes- if such a thing had happened then this girl would have known that he is not her sort and would have refused him and looked for someone with a philosophical bent of mind – there is no dearth of such men in Kolkata at least !”said Madam.
“No Madam..her age was also increasing she was already 25 and they were looking for a suitable groom for long”.
“And they found their suitable groom in a sex starved poodle – so very good then – why complain? I am sorry Susmita – this is a case of an educated , well to do family girl, bred in a metropolitan city who was unfortunately born in a family which is still holding on to age-old ideas about women and her marriageable age ,who did not do a proper homework while selecting their son-in-law and gave away their daughter in a haste as if she was some muck born accidentally to them…. Probably its because of their attitude towards girl-child that God gave them this punishment that they will now have to run from post to pillar for getting justice for their daughter !!...and just imagine the nature of the case – the most shameful and tabooed of all topics in India – Sex Life!...Sorry Susmita – from my side I dismiss this case !
| By mita kapur on Tuesday, February 01, 2005 - 08:31 am: |
brand parent
it's hard to admit but I'm sure all members of this particular 'brand' are going to agree openly or secretly, within their hearts to this one fact , which is very much what we all are. and the fact is that the 'brand' parent is as 'wired', as 'wierd', as 'wonderful' as our offspring. and that we are as challenged, as confused and need as much counselling as our children do.
cut to scene one- universal occurence in every house- eyes glued to the blue screen, fingers tapping frantically on the keyboard-how much time should we let them spend on the computer? shift to PIP(picture in picture)view- a human blob bundled on your bed, a pair of beedy eyes sunk into the television (read-my favourite rival)-we fret over how many hours and what to let them watch.
cut to scene two-the pitch and bass of your life is resounding with digital sound surround-is this rock n roll or is this shock-ur-soul music? suddenly you make a historical discovery-you can call the NASA and tell them there is no life on mars since it is not listed on your teenage daughter's phone bill.
you see red whenexamination blues hit your child. you are informed by a cold stare that she's studied enough. a battle within a battle breaks out. the question hour shifts it's focus from the child to the father who has no answer(what's new) for a simple query-"what have you done to make sure 'they' study for their exams?"
so you realise you are being bandied about, burgeoned by revolutions of all kinds. the IT revolution hits you-a PC, mobile phone, a digital camera, a flatron plasma TV,an i-pod.these are all subject to last minute changes due to the unfavourable weather conditions created by the advertising world and the ever powerful peer pressure force. you are merely incidental and thank God for small mercies that at least you are there somewhere in their lives.
now that you are caught up in the web of their world, you might as well accept those over-sized t-shirts or noodle-strapped ones and 'barely there on the hips jeans'and I can assure you if you look closely, you will find a person there somewhere, as enrolled members of the PPR-per pressure revolution-thank God once again there is no life membership to this group. this revolution consists of huge plans and tall orders- a movie, Pizza Hut,Barista, Planet-M,and slowly and painfully a mobike. the art of negotiation is something they learn at the tender ages-you would be amazed how many teenagers get their first car by simply asking for a Yamaha.getz you-huh?
the hamburger revolution overeats into your nerves. sizes bloat, clothes stretch to their seams and you feel you will see noodles growing out of their ears. but you are put into cold storage, it's passe to even look at good old dal and bhindi. suddenly you have new creature connections- your kids and the (grrr...)grand parents get along so well together because they have one common enemy-the mother. ther is a strong feeling of deja vu that our generation parent never really had a chance. when we were young, they taught us to respect our elders and now that we are older they tell us to listen to the youth.
so the role of the 'brand' parent is redefined. from master chef, cleaner, tailor, financer, provider, we to have kept up with the times. we record their messages in our minds like answering machines. we search for the hidden depth and meanings og the googles and yahoos of their lingo and wonder why a family is called a support system? in between bouncing back and forht as expert juggler you take on being a trapeze artist, plunging headlong into their despairs and woes and plmmeting sky high with their joys and victories. you are also an inventor of sorts flashing answers at the click of a mouse. an entrepreneur who is costantly taking risks-"to be or not to be", "to do or not to do", "to speak or not to speak". you are an author and you can bid adieu to Aldous Huxley baecause you've just re- written The Brave New World. 'brand' parent can easily get itself patented as a 'limited' company and float parental equity shares,one the issue will get over-subscribed and two the market is sure to boom.
looking for an escape within your brave new world? do what I do when my kids become wild and unruly. I use a nice safe playpen and when they are finished I climb out.there is only one small realisation-the moment you have children yourself you forgive your parents for everything. and be comforted my friends- there is no life on Mas.
| By Rayhan on Monday, August 16, 2004 - 09:49 am: |
I am Rayhan Ahmed Tariq from Pakistan.I had an opportunity in summer 2004 to visit the seeds of peace international camp in u.s.a.Seeds of peace is a non-profit,non-political organization that helps teenagers from conflict learn the skills of making peace.Set at camp in maine,where youngsters can air their opinion freely.
I went to camp with so many sterotypes about other side which i got from people who have not even met them.Now i know that most of the stero-types have nothing to do with reality,They are just illusions of our media and our politicans.Camp was like a new world for me,much diffrent then the orignal world;beacuse seeds of peace camp is a place where your nationality and your religon does not matter who ever you are... you are seed.There we had activites like an ordinary camp has.... only diffrence was we were having those activites with people we were taught to think as enemies.I first eyed the other side with suspision,then i realized we are quite much the same ....we got same taste,our language is similar and we even like similar movies,then why to avoid them.I came to know they felt the same way about me.Now some of the indians are better friends of mine then i have in Pakistan.
I soon realized that i have stoped recognizing people as their country and their religon and as the one who is in my bunk,the one who scored golden gole for team and the one who fell out of boat.
Camp was like an ocean for me to explore.There were so many new things to explore,new people to meet,new friends to make,new cultures and new languages to learn about and most importenly to know the opinon of other side about the conflict we were having.Although our political opinion was totaly opposite....people who were freedom fighter for us were the terrorist for them,our history was totally-opposite,we both were told that wars fought between us was started by the other side;our political ideology was also quite different;but the bases of our opinion was same "we both wanted peace".Before coming to camp i knew only the Pakistani point of view of the conflict,but now knowing the indian point of view i know that we both want peace.Peace is what we we need.I think the solution for peace is understanding.If we understand other side point of view ,we won't be having the conflict we are having now.
Pakistani and Indias have lived together more than a thousand years peacefully before partition.Even during the british occupation we fought side by side for freedom.After partition is when all the hostility and tention was started between indo-pak.When ever there was a bomb-blast or any un-pleasant incident india is blamed for it.Same was the case with them.After all those years of wars,aggravation,conlict what have we gained........???....nothing.....absolutly nothing....but we lost,we lost precious life,money,and most importenly a friend with whom we have over 2000k.m long border.Pakistan and India are two nations united by history but divided by destiny.Seeds of peace gave me hope,it taught me that we need to make our-selves a better future,with no conflict,no war and no hatred.I learnt from seeds of peace by co-existing with indians that coflict and war is no solution.Only solution we can have is by understanding.You will gain nothing by hating people,you will gain only by peace and love with others.
In the situation of Pakistan and India almost half of their budget is spent on defence.If peaceful relations are archeived between these two countries,it would be beneficial for both as the same money could be spent on betterment of people.
"You need not look for peace.Peace will find you when you look it for others"
| By Vaanathi on Sunday, June 20, 2004 - 06:58 am: |
Hi,
This is Vaanathi, I am from Mumbai. My actual name is Usha Sitaaraam and I am an amateur writer. I have written about six to seven short stories and would like my stories to be published.
regards
Vaanathi
------------------------------------------------------
MAITREYI
By Vaanathi
Meghna was travelling in the Mumbai sub-urban train going back to her house from work. Her office was in Malad and she resided in Thane. She got down at Dadar station to change trains to go to the central sub-urban to reach her destination. She got down from the train effortlessly, as the crowd behind her just pushed her out to the platform. She swiftly moved herself away from the door on the platform and another surge of crowd was getting in the train. Meghna looked at the crowd in the train and on the platform everybody was lost in their own world, somebody was running to catch a train to go home and some were to go to office for the night shift. There was ocean of people in the station- on the platform, on the trains, on the footbridge. Wherever your eyes travelled, you could find people.
Meghna thought of the poem “ Water, water everywhere but not a drop to drink.” How apt the poem was for this situation, everywhere around her she found men and women, yet she felt lonely; devoid of friends.
There were some shoe polishers sitting and shouting loudly requesting to get their shoes polished. There was a person selling boiled channa, chickpeas and some people were buying them to fill their tummies momentarily, till they got home, where they can have fill of their stomach. There was a juice shop, which was bustling with activity as many approached to quench their thirst with juice and cold drinks. The shop also sold Vada pav, samosas. One could see the vadas and samosas kept in a glass casket. Whenever someone ordered for them the boy in the shop would open the casket, some flies would escape out of the casket and some more would enter the same.
There were a boy and girl standing on the platform oblivious of the noise and hustle bustle around them and they were not bothered about time or reaching home in time or of hunger. The girl had a bag on her shoulder and a notebook with a film star on the cover. And the boy was also having a bag on his shoulder. They were lost in themselves. Meghna saw them and smiled at them, she saw them everyday and felt a surge of happiness. They reminded her of Akhil and herself, when they where going around. After being married for five years now, Akhil and she were still in love, but had little time to spend with each other.
She crossed over the bridge to the central side to go to Thane. She looked at the platform down below, where she will have to catch the train towards Thane, all she could see was a sea of heads moving around. She felt suffocated. She saw pan stains on the parapet wall from where she was looking down. She moved away from the wall. She tried taking deep breath to calm her down.
Suddenly she felt something rub against her hand, she turned it was a white duppatta which had brushed against her. The girl who was wearing it was a young girl in her early twenties, was wearing a white dress, with her hair left open looked like an angel, smiling warmly at Meghna. She was Maitreyi.
Meghna looked at her and said, “ Hi! I thought I was lost in the crowd. You never let me feel lonely.”
Maitreyi replied, “ That’s what friends are for.”
Maitreyi gave her a celestial smile and said, “ Lets go down to the platform and catch a train home.”
“Whenever you are with me, I have feeling every one is eyeing us.” Said Meghna.
“ Well oldie, it is me that they are eyeing,” quipped Maitreyi mischievously.
Meghna smiled at her companion’s remarks. Maitreyi, was in her early twenties, with long hair which she never tied, had beautiful lovely eyes, had a fair and flawless complexion with sharp feature. She looked like a celestial being; who seemed to float now among the sea of people.
Whenever Meghna felt she was left behind in the fast moving world and her feet slipping the earth beneath her, she would find Maitreyi, with her hand held towards Meghna and she would pull her along. All Meghna had to do was hold her hand and go along.
They got into the train and the train started. They went inside to find a place to sit. There were two places, Meghna took one place and another lady came sat next to her. Maitreyi stood in front of her.
Meghna said looking out of the window, “ Akhil is going to Delhi for a month. I have to be with my parents-in law alone again. You know Maitreyi, I feel sometimes I am married to them and not to Akhil. He spent a week with me in the last six months you know. And with their uncompromising religious activities and they are very accusing. I find myself suffocated.” Said Meghna.
The lady who was sitting next to her asked Meghna, “ Are you talking to me?”
Meghna smiled and Maitreyi said, “ No she is talking to me. Do not worry Meghna, I will be there for you.”
The train stopped at Thane, Meghna and Maitreyi got down.
“ Maitreyi, How come you travel without a handbag?” asked Meghna walking ahead. She saw Akhil standing near the ticket counter. Her face lit up, she ran towards him forgetting Maitreyi.
“ I came to pick you up. Let me at least spend today happily with you.” Said Akhil.
Akhil was a handsome man in his early thirties, tall and sturdy, with a smile that made Meghna’s heart melt. Meghna turned to find Maitreyi who had already disappeared in the crowd.
“ Oh! She has left again without saying bye. I wanted you to meet her.” Said Meghna.
“ Yes I want to meet this beautiful friend of yours.” Said Akhil rolling his eyes. Meghna gave him a punch in his stomach and said; “ I thought sometime back you said you wanted to spend time with me.” She saw a white figure disappearing in the crowd, going out of the station, through the other end.
“There she is going,” said Meghna pointing at a girl in white waving her hand in goodbye to her. By the time Akhil looked in that direction she had gone.
They went out for dinner that night at a nice Chinese restaurant. There was a band playing and Akhil requested a song for Meghna to be sung for her. It was her favourite song by Stevie Wonder. She was touched by this act of his.
Akhil said, “ Meghna, I know you are lost when I am not around. Just always remember, I love you a lot and you mean the world to me. I cannot stand when you are low and upset. Do not let Ma and Baba bother you. They are old they cannot change at this age. Just adjust for me. But that does not mean you do not take care of your health.”
He continued, “ Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately. You look so tired; your eyes are sunken and have dark circles around them.”
Meghna remembered her friends comment at the station and smiled. She said, “ I will miss you. Maitreyi says she will spend more time with me when you are not around.”
“ I wanted to meet this friend of yours. I will meet her after I come back from the trip.” Said Akhil.
* * * * * * *
“It is been one month since Akhil left for Delhi. Good you came to be with me. ” Said Meghna.
“I know you were suffering from loneliness, that is why I sent Maitreyi in the first place. She is my friend’s daughter.” Said Meghna’s father.
She smiled at her father with tears welling up in her eyes.
“ No, you must not cry. I am there for you. I will never let you suffer now. My baby.” Said her father.
Akhil came back to his house to find his house full of relatives. He felt something tug at pit of his stomach.
He saw Meghna’s mother sitting in a corner staring at the ceiling and his mother was telling her.
“ You did not bring up your daughter well. Look now she has spoilt my son’s life. It ‘s your entire fault. I told them their horoscopes do not match. But this son of mine was fully possessed by your daughter. Now see what has happened.”
She turned and saw Akhil standing at the door. “ Ma, stop it. I have had enough of your horoscope talks. This is what has been eating Meghna from inside, the fear of horoscope spoiling our married life.”
“ Akhil, my child she used to lock herself up in her room and laugh and talk without anybody with her in the room. I was very scared. ” Replied his mother.
“ Now enough of cooking stories about her, I know she is depressed and you and your horoscope are the reason. No needs to make her sound like an insane person. And if that was the case you should have taken her to her psychiatrist, Dr Joshi. Where is she? Meghna!” Akhil called her.
Meghna’s mother walked up to Akhil as if she was in trance and gave him a letter. The letter was in Meghna’s handwriting. Akhil read
Dearest Akhil,
My father came here to our house and spoke to me the day after you left. He has sent Maithreyi to be my friend when you are not around. And she does a fine job too. Ma and Baba always talk about horoscope and say that I will bring your death. I always fear of something bad happening to you. Maithreyi suggested that she would take me to my father till you come back so that I am in peace till then.
I miss you.
I love you.
Love
Meghna
Akhil read the letter and was confused. He looked up at Meghna’s mother, and said in a perplexed voice, “ but Meghna’s father..
Before he could finish the sentence, Meghna’s mother replied in a voice devoid of emotion, “dead for the past ten years. ”
And she went to the next room where Meghna lay dead.
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| By Vaanathi on Sunday, June 20, 2004 - 07:02 am: |
Hi,
I am Vaanathi. I am from Mumbai. My real name is Usha Sitaaraam.
Regards
Vaanathi
======================================================
First Love
By Vaanathi
Yesterday I went to her house. I saw her after five years. I have got a job in Pune. On of the weekends, I went over to Mumbai. I had a burning desire to see her, my Angel.
She is my first love. I saw her for the first time nine years ago. I was in my twelfth standard, when her parents moved to Chennai.
I saw her first time in the bus stop. I was coming back from the school and there she was standing at the bus stop like an angel, wearing a pink colour salwar kameez, holding an brown colour chequered umbrella, which reminded you of a Scottish skirt. The rain droplets from the edges of the umbrella were dripping on her shoulder making the sleeve of her dress transparent. Her fair hand holding the umbrella was adorned with a silver bracelet and on the other hand she was wearing a wristwatch. She held the umbrella with the hand adorning the silver bracelet. She pushed her hair with fingers behind her ear with the hand that was free. She had beautiful long fingers. On the ring finger of the hand, which was free, she had worn a lapis lazuli silver ring. I was mesmerised, when I looked at her attractive face, sharp nose, and big expressive eyes. Her lips and cheeks were of the same colour as her dress or was it the colour of her cheeks and lips, which lent their colour to her dress. In all she looked like a gorgeous angel. There was a gush of breeze, which made her umbrella fly out of her hand. The bus conductor snapped me out of my mesmerism. “ Boy will you stand like an statue on the foot board. Either go inside or get down.” I got down and by then she had caught hold of her umbrella and she came running to the bus and asked, “ Will this bus go to Mount road?” and the conductor said. “ Yes, get in quick.”
She brushed past me; I felt my body shiver as her pink duppatta swept across my hand. I knew I shivered not because of the rain or the cold; it was her touch. Her voice had sounded like a song of cuckoo bird. I walked back home in a trance, dazzled by her beauty and splendour. Oh! How elegantly had she pushed the curls of hair behind her ear?
It was my mother who snapped me out of my trance, next.
“ Oh lord, look at this boy. He has an umbrella but does not want to open it. I do not understand this younger generation.” Said my mother.
It was so typical of my mother. But she was correct, I had been so mesmerised by her beauty and elegance that I had forgotten to open the umbrella and had walked back home in her thought without realising the rain falling on me.
“ Quick, dry his hair, Kamala. My child go and change your clothes quickly or you will catch cold.” This was my retired father. He handed over a towel to my mother. My mother brusquely rubbed my hair with the towel, which made my reply to my parents muffled and shaky.
I pushed my mother away and said angrily, “ Amma hand me that towel. I am not a six-year-old kid. I can do all that myself.” Tugging at the towel.
This sent my mother into another bout of angry discourse about the younger generation. I walked up the stairs to go to my room again lost in my thoughts, with my entire senses shutting out, all I could hear was the breeze and pitter-patter of rain and the voice of the girl, “ Will this bus go to Mount road?”
And I said, “ Yes.”
At the precise moment my mother had said, “ This younger generation is half mad.” And she thought I had said yes to her. She looked at me disapprovingly and shook her head and went to the kitchen.
To my delight, the next day my angel was there again at the bus stop, when I came back from school. Today she was wearing a yellow kameez and white Salwar and no duppatta. She was wearing gold danglers in her ears today, which swayed lightly and touched her cheeks, whenever she moved her head to see if the bus was coming. She wore a gold chain on her neck with a pendant in the shape of a swastik. I had noticed her from far, standing inside the bus. This acted as an incentive me to go to the footboard of the bus. I stood hanging on the footboard of the bus. Oh! How I wished I were her dangler, so that I would kiss her cheeks every time she moved her head. I stood on the footboard and got down just in time when she got in, so that she would brush past against me. I noticed she plaited her hair today and she had some curls beneath the plait just at the nape of her neck.
I walked back home again in trance. Now I wished to be the curls of hair at the nape of her neck. How much I longed to nuzzle at her fair neck. When she brushed against me; the fragrance of her body had sent me to the state of bliss. Just the very thought of it thrilled me and my eyes were filled with tears of joy.
I confided my feelings to my friend. He said, “ Buddy, that’s love.”
So I thought day in and day out of my first love. I knew the time when she would come back from Mount Road. I would find excuses to come out of house and stand in the bus stop and wait for my angel. She would alight the bus swiftly. Now she had some friends with her who would giggle on seeing me. I would walk behind her like a puppy followings its master. I would go till her house.
Sometimes after dinner I would go out for walk and stand outside her house just to catch a glimpse of her.
One day I was rewarded. I saw her on the veranda wearing a blue nightgown. She walked out with a book in her hand and at that precise moment her hair that was rolled into a bun, unrolled itself falling elegantly like a beautiful cascading waterfall, on to her neck. She kept the book on the table on veranda just above which there was the lamp. She lifted her hand to curl her hair into a bun again. The lamp above her head, gave away her curvaceous silhouetted outline. How much I was thankful of the lamp, it quickened my heartbeat and sent me again to the state of ecstasy. She suddenly realised somebody gaping at her. Her lips curled up into a smile.
I narrated this incident to my friend. He asked me, “ She smiled at you.”
I said, “ Yes.”
He clapped my back and said, “ Buddy stars are shining on you. I am sure she is in love with you.”
I asked my eyes shining, “ Are you sure?”
He said with a confidence, “ If a girl smiles, that means she likes you.”
Everyday I would go to bus stop in the evening and in the night I would go and stand outside her house to get a glimpse of her. But never I could muster the courage to speak to her
I was upset because, that day was my last exam. And to come out of house I would have to find excuse. I was not deterred. Everyday I would cook up new excuses to go out in afternoon when she went to college and in the evening when she would come back. I even cancelled my trip to Kerala for vacations. I knew her schedule like back of my hand. Then the day came when it was her last exam. Now I will have to wait outside her house everyday, I thought, a little disappointed.
I saw my angel and her parents going to station the next day to my dismay. I went behind them. I saw them get in to a train and disappear for one month. I was crestfallen. I did not feel like eating and would just loathe around, with nothing fascinating me. Now I thought, how wonderful it would have been to wait outside her house just to catch a glimpse of her. I thought this agony of separation was too much.
Then my angel came back from holidays. One day to my joy she came to our house with her father. I came to know about it from one of my friends. I was playing cricket with my friends, a little farther away from my house. When I came to know, I ran out of the field and climbed on my bicycle and paddled off home fast. I ran into the house sweating profusely and panting, I ran upstairs where she was sitting with her father. My father was telling her father, “ Do not worry, I will make your daughter expert in accounts.” After retiring my father had taken to coaching college and professional examination students in accounts and law.
I entered with sweat dripping from my side burns running down my cheek and I was panting. I looked like a fool standing with the door open and gaping at her. My angel suppressed her smile.
At that precise moment my mother came and saw me and started again, “ this younger generation…
And I went into my room and closed the door behind and went to the window and gazed at my angel.
Next three years of life went on. I went to college to do graduation. My angel became a company secretary. But still I did not muster courage to tell her.
One day I was watching a cricket match with my father on the T V. It was then she entered the room in beautiful pink chiffon sari, she was wearing pearls in her neck today and she was wearing pearl earrings. She looked celestial, as if she had descended directly from heaven. Her cheeks were rosy and she looked at my father and touched his feet and said, “ Sir, next month is my wedding. You have to definitely come and bless me.”
I felt as if a thunderbolt had struck me. I was left speechless. She sat next to my father on a chair, gave me an amusing smile. I got up and banged the door behind me and I heard my mother say her favourite dialogue. That was the last time I saw her five years ago.
I had finished my MCA and had got a job in Pune. She was in Mumbai. My father had given me her address and said if I wanted I could visit her, when and if I went to Mumbai.
I was reminded of her again and the blissful four years of my following her like a puppy, her curls, her danglers and her lovely smile. I became excited. I looked forward to meeting my first love.
So I went to her house yesterday. She stayed in Chembur. I bought sweets and flowers; went to her house in anticipation. She stayed in an apartment on the fifth floor. I went up in the lift and stood in front of the door and took a deep breath. I rang the bell. I could hear the footsteps behind the door and then the door opened. I saw a fat lady, who was all sweaty and breathing heavy, and a small boy of four year run out of the house. She shouted, “ You come back immediately.” But the little boy had run already.
And then she looked at me, and smiled. The smile was familiar. To my utter disappointment I realised this fat lady was my angel. She was wearing a huge pink salwar kameez, but still was tight for her.
She said, “ Oh! Please come in.” recognising me.
“You have changed a lot, ” she said in an embarrassed voice. And then as an afterthought she added, “ Even I have changed, a couple of tissues added.” And she smiled at me.
***********
| By Harmanjit (24.69.255.205) on Wednesday, March 26, 2003 - 07:47 am: |
War on Iraq
The age of imperialism is back. Mr. George Bush has inflicted a deadly blow on the United Nations. After being successful in maintaining peace for five and a half decades, the strongest military power has made a mockery of it. The future of the human race looks bleak. Or do we even have a future? “Saddam Hussain possesses weapons of mass destruction,” shouted Mr. George Bush. However, at this moment of time the US possesses the most destructive weapons ever made. The acts of aggression that are being committed by the US and the open defiance of the United Nations raise the fear of the Third World War. It seems that the motive of the US is to increase its influence in Asia. It has achieved establishing a puppet government in Afghanistan, controlling of the immense oil reserves of Iraq is clearly its motive now. Is humanity safe? The oppression of the East by the western world has been evident throughout the course of history. Can we allow our future to be a mirror of our past? Is a person who attacks a country and kills innocent civilians just because of his grudge against one person sane? Can we allow this manslaughter to go on? In the age of nuclear weapons war can bring an end to our existence. Can we afford to pay this price for selfish gains?
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