Rumors flew thick in the air. The whole society was abuzz. Mrs. Rastogi had not attended Mrs. Malhotra’s pet Pommerian’s birthday complaining of a headache. Mrs. Ghosh whispered, “Even last week, she walked in the last moment to Mrs. Malhotra’s kitty party.” Mrs. Mishra nibbled delicately at paneer pakora and remarked, “That’s because she had to water her Star of Bethlehem’s. She always says that 4pm is the only time of the day when the plants can absorb water. Fo..fo…she called it fotosynthesix.” “Actually,” replied Mrs. Ghosh, “the whole fallout was because Mrs. Rastogi lost to Mrs. Malhotra in the Mahjong party at Mrs. Mirchndani’s”. “Ssshhhhh!” Joined Mrs. Krishnamurthy. “I know the real reason. Mr. Malhotra is soon going to get a big promotion and then he will be senior to Mr. Rastogi.” “Oh! My gosh” exclaimed Mrs. Mishra and Mrs. Ghosh.
It was official now. Cold war had begun. Chintu Rastogi was not allowed to play with Bobby Malhotra. At Pummy’s wedding, Mrs. Malhotra gifted her silver anklets and Mrs. Rastogi hit back with gold earrings. When the Rastogi family decided to spend their summer at Singapore, the Malhotras chose New Zealand.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Krishnamurthy was doing her best to bring them together. She paired up the two of them in the three-legged-race at her residence on a sunny winter Sunday afternoon. It did not work. She went to Mrs. Rastogi’ place and under the pretext of learning how to maintain Star of Bethlehem’s, tried to gain her confidence. Mrs. Malhotra poured out her heart while showing her how to cook Paneer Butter Masala. Mrs. Krishnamurthy had all the inside dough and people flocked to her for news.
Equations in the company were changing very fast. Mr. Ray the President was about to retire and there was speculation about who would succeed him. Opinion was divided between Mr. Malhotra and Mr. Rastogi. Many said, Rastogi would be promoted over Malhotra and he would be the next President. Mrs. Malhotra and Mrs. Rastogi continued to smile their plastic smiles when they met at parties and grimaced as soon as their backs were turned. Tension was rife in the air.
The day arrived. Mr. Ray was retiring. He would name his successor and a grand farewell party would be thrown at the club soon afterwards. Mr. Rastogi and Mr. Malhotra arrived in office in spotless white shirts and their wives got their best Kanjeevarams ready. Mr. Ray called everyone to his office and said; “The management has decided that in the event of my retirement, Mr. Krishnamurthy will take over as the next President of the company. Mr. Malhotra and Mr. Rastogi will be assisting him. They will both be promoted as Vice-Presidents. Thank you.”
The party was a grand success. Everybody commented on how appropriate it was of the wives of the newly appointed Vice-Presidents to turn up in South Indian silks. Mrs. Krishnamurthy was particularly pleased. She commented on how glad she was to have Mrs. Rastogi and Mrs. Malhotra as her dearest friends. She demanded that they jointly throw a party at the women’s club next week. Mrs. Rastogi and Mrs. Malhotra had suddenly become best friends, together venting their ire against the newly appointed President’s wife. Mrs. Krishnamurthy had the last laugh!
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Friday, December 09, 2005
Money..Money..Money - 2
(Continued from Money..Money..Money - 1)
Ravi Raju was looking at the chandelier with admiration. He was actually trying to gauge the cost of the thing. The last time he saw a similar thing was at the Y.V Chavan Auditorium at the Women’s College, which is happens to visit more often because his daughter was studying there. It was 11 am in the morning and the crowd out side the flat 304 as well the Kiran gate was almost immobile. The buzz around was only asking one question. What actually have happened?? Ravi himself was a bit flummoxed. The flat he was standing on was a typical Mumbai up market one with all the facilities starting from Home Theatre to 29’ color television. The bathroom was a dream come true for anyone with sauna bath facilities along with a wide array of expensive toiletries. Other than the chandelier, there were very costly paintings in the Hall. One thing that was missing from the flat was any picture. His people could not find a single snap or photo in that flat. Patkar from the forensics called him. Breaking out of his reverie Ravi asked, found the body? Patkar nodded in the negative. Actually till now Ravi had witnessed lot of gruesome crime scenes. But this one at the Kiran had him stumped. Every where he can see blood smeared with the torn pieces of clothes. But there was no sign of the body at all. And most intriguingly, the person who have been the first to set off the alarm do not even know the name of the inhabitant of the flat. The CSI Team was almost sure that a violent crime was committed. But then as an investigating officer Ravi cannot lodge an assault and murder case unless he can get hold of the body. Suddenly constable Wagle came running down the corridor holding a piece of cloth in his hand. It was stained with blood and seemed to be a part of a beige kurta. Saab, I recovered it from the staircase. It was actually wedged between the window sill between the second and third floor. Now this was some clue, Ravi thought. Wagle, take your people and search every nook and corner of this building and the adjacent lanes please, he barked his orders. But inside he was very confused.
He gave a last look at the flat and came out of the door of the flat – the same one through which Anil made his entry sometime before. The crowd outside was fell silent. Where is the building watchman? No one uttered any thing. Then a very old and haggard face came forth. I am Bimal Sir. And I am the watchman cum gardener here. Ravi looked up. The man was any where between 40 and 50. Dark complexion and seems to be a habitual drinker. He was reeking of country liquor all around. Ravi took him to a corner and started questioning.
Who used to stay here?
I don’t know. Actually she has just come to stay here.
Don’t you have her name in your society’s register?
No Sir. The register has got Mr. Khare’s name as he used to pay the society charges.
You want to tell me that a complete stranger was staying in your building and none of you had any inkling about it? That person could have been a squatter as well. Have you informed the owner of this flat? Ravi blurted out.
Yes Sir, actually the lady in question has brought in a letter from Mr. Khare declaring her as a lawful tenant. Here is the letter.
Ravi went through the letter very carefully. The only question he was thinking was whether the letter has been forged or not.
Did Mr. Khare previously used to keep tenants?
No.
With that Ravi concluded that there is little to know from the Kiran people. He picked his cell phone and started to place a call to the control room for the police artist. He was sure that he cannot file anything more than a missing complaint. While dialing suddenly he remembered something. The neighbor fellow was mentioning something about a telephone ringing that brought him out of his flat!!!
He began looking very carefully inch by inch through out the flat until he came across the thing he was looking for. It was a very small Sony handset tucked discreetly in between two books in the bookshelf. It was wide screen and would have doubled as a PDA as well. Perked up with his discovery he tried to look at screen and find out the number that might have been there courtesy the missed call. But unfortunately all he could find was the screen saver playing. It was a flash demo for the set itself. Where he tried to press any button the only thing he could see was “ Enter the Authorization Code”. Thoroughly dejected the Inspector decided to send it to the Technicians (the geeks from the IT Crime cell) near the Crawford Market and wait for the artist to come down so that he can have at least a description sketched out for the mysterious lady. (To be Continued)
He gave a last look at the flat and came out of the door of the flat – the same one through which Anil made his entry sometime before. The crowd outside was fell silent. Where is the building watchman? No one uttered any thing. Then a very old and haggard face came forth. I am Bimal Sir. And I am the watchman cum gardener here. Ravi looked up. The man was any where between 40 and 50. Dark complexion and seems to be a habitual drinker. He was reeking of country liquor all around. Ravi took him to a corner and started questioning.
Who used to stay here?
I don’t know. Actually she has just come to stay here.
Don’t you have her name in your society’s register?
No Sir. The register has got Mr. Khare’s name as he used to pay the society charges.
You want to tell me that a complete stranger was staying in your building and none of you had any inkling about it? That person could have been a squatter as well. Have you informed the owner of this flat? Ravi blurted out.
Yes Sir, actually the lady in question has brought in a letter from Mr. Khare declaring her as a lawful tenant. Here is the letter.
Ravi went through the letter very carefully. The only question he was thinking was whether the letter has been forged or not.
Did Mr. Khare previously used to keep tenants?
No.
With that Ravi concluded that there is little to know from the Kiran people. He picked his cell phone and started to place a call to the control room for the police artist. He was sure that he cannot file anything more than a missing complaint. While dialing suddenly he remembered something. The neighbor fellow was mentioning something about a telephone ringing that brought him out of his flat!!!
He began looking very carefully inch by inch through out the flat until he came across the thing he was looking for. It was a very small Sony handset tucked discreetly in between two books in the bookshelf. It was wide screen and would have doubled as a PDA as well. Perked up with his discovery he tried to look at screen and find out the number that might have been there courtesy the missed call. But unfortunately all he could find was the screen saver playing. It was a flash demo for the set itself. Where he tried to press any button the only thing he could see was “ Enter the Authorization Code”. Thoroughly dejected the Inspector decided to send it to the Technicians (the geeks from the IT Crime cell) near the Crawford Market and wait for the artist to come down so that he can have at least a description sketched out for the mysterious lady. (To be Continued)
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
IT Survivors - Staying Alive In A Software Job - Written by Harshad Oak
Before I started working for myself, I spent some years in some of the top IT companies in India and still have many friends working in various software companies. I wrote a blog Recruiting like crazy, about the same time last year about how Indian companies are recruiting like there's no tomorrow and the possible consequences. However I was avoiding writing this particular piece as it seems like an unpatriotic thing to do, to tell the world how bad the working conditions in software companies in India have become. And there's always the risk of excerpts being used out of context to bash up IT in India.
I am now writing this because I just keep hearing horror tales from the industry and it doesn't seem like anything is being done in the matter, so I thought I will do my bit and write.
First and foremost, before stereotypes about India kick in, I would like to clarify that I am not saying that Indian software companies are sweat shops where employees aren't being paid and made to work in cramped uncomfortable places. The pay in software companies is very good as compared to other industries in India and the work places are generally well furnished and plush offices. India being a strong democracy, freedom of expression is alive and well and Indians are free to express their opinions and voice their concerns. Yet, I say that the software industry is exploiting its employees.
IT work culture in India is totally messed up and has now started harming the work culture of the nation as a whole. Working 12+ hours a day and 6 or even 7 days a week is more the rule than the exception.
Consequences:
Plush offices, fat salaries and latest gizmos can give you happiness only if you have a life in the first place.
The reason I feel this culture has emerged, is the servile attitude of the companies. Here's a tip for any company in the west planning to outsource to India. If you feel that a project can be completed in 6 weeks by 4 people, always demand that it be completed in 2 weeks by 3 people.
Guess what, most Indian companies will agree. The project will then be hyped up as an "extremely critical" one and the 3 unfortunate souls allocated to it will get very close to meeting the almighty by the time they deliver the project in 2 weeks. Surprisingly, they will deliver in 2-3 weeks, get bashed up for any delays and the company will soon boast about how they deliver good quality in reasonable time and cost. Has anyone in India ever worked on a project that wasn't "extremely critical"?
I was once at a session where a top boss of one of India's biggest IT firms was asked a question about what was so special about their company and his answer was that we are the "Yes" people with the "We Can Do It " attitude. It is all very well for the top boss to say "We Can Do It ".. what about the project teams who wish to say "Please....We Can't Do It " to the unreasonable timelines...I was tempted to ask "What death benefits does your company offer to the teams that get killed in the process?". I sure was ashamed to see that a fellow Indian was openly boasting about the fact that he and his company had no backbone. The art of saying No or negotiating reasonable time frames for the team is very conspicuous by its absence. Outsourcing customers more often than not simply walk all over Indian software companies. The outsourcer surely cannot be blamed as it is right for him to demand good quality in the least cost and time.
Exhaustion = Zero Innovation
Surprisingly, put the same Indian in a company "in" the US and he suddenly becomes innovative and a thought leader in his field. The reason is simple, the only thing an exhausted body and mind can do well, is sleep. zzzzzz
I can pretty much bet on it that we will never see innovation from any of 10000+ person code factories in India.
If you are someone sitting in the US, UK... and wondering why the employees can't stand up, that's the most interesting part of the story. Read on...
The Problem
The software professional Indian is today making more money in a month than what his parents might have made in an year. Very often a 21 year old newbie software developer makes more money than his/her 55 year old father working in an old world business. Most of these youngsters are well aware of this gap and so work under an impression that they are being paid an unreasonable amount of money. They naturally equate unreasonable money with unreasonable amount of work.
Another important factor is this whole bubble that an IT person lives in.. An IT professional walks with a halo around his or her head. They are the Cool, Rich Gen Next .. the Intelligentsia of the New World... they travel all over the world, vacation at exotic locations abroad, talk "american", are more familiar of the geography of the USA than that of India and yes of course, they are the hottest things in the Wedding Market!!!
This I feel is the core problem because if employees felt they were being exploited, things would change.
I speak about this to some of my friends and the answer is generally "Hey Harshad, what you say is correct and we sure are suffering, but why do you think we are being paid this much money? It's not for 40 hours but for 80 hours a week. And anyway what choice do we have? It's the same everywhere."
So can we make things change? Is there a way to try and stop an entire generation of educated Indians from ending up with "no life".
Solutions
Companies need to stop hiding behind the excuse that the time difference between India and the west is the reason why people need to stay in office for 14 hours a day. Staying late should be a negative thing that should work against an employee in his appraisals. Never complement someone for staying till midnight or working 7 days a week .
Estimates:
If time estimates go wrong, the company should be willing to take a hit and not force the employee to work crazy hours to bail projects out of trouble. This will ensure that the estimates made for the next project are more real and not just what the customer has asked for.
Employee organizations / forums
NASSCOM (National Association for Software and Services Companies) and CSI (Computer Society Of India) are perhaps the only two well known software associations in India and both I feel have failed the software employee. I do not recall any action from these organizations to try and improve the working conditions of software employees. This has to change.
I am not in favor of forming trade unions for software people, as trade unions in India have traditionally been more effective at ruining businesses and making employees inefficient than getting employees their rights and helping business do well. So existing bodies like NASSCOM should create and popularize employee welfare cells at a state / regional level and these cells should work only for employee welfare and not be puppets in the hands of the companies.
If the industry does not itself create proper forums for employee welfare, it's likely that the government / trade unions will interfere and mess up India's sunshine industry.
Narayan Murthys please stand up
Top bosses of companies like Infosys, TCS, Wipro, etc. need to send the message loud and clear to their company and to other companies listening at national IT events that employee welfare is really their top concern and having good working culture and conditions is a priority. Employee welfare here does not mean giving the employee the salary he/she dreams of.
Last word
I am sure some of my thoughts come from the fact that I too worked in such an environment for a few years and perhaps I haven't got over the frustrations I experienced back then. So think about my views with a pinch of salt but do think about it. And if you have an opinion on this issue, don't forget to add a comment to this article
I am now writing this because I just keep hearing horror tales from the industry and it doesn't seem like anything is being done in the matter, so I thought I will do my bit and write.
First and foremost, before stereotypes about India kick in, I would like to clarify that I am not saying that Indian software companies are sweat shops where employees aren't being paid and made to work in cramped uncomfortable places. The pay in software companies is very good as compared to other industries in India and the work places are generally well furnished and plush offices. India being a strong democracy, freedom of expression is alive and well and Indians are free to express their opinions and voice their concerns. Yet, I say that the software industry is exploiting its employees.
IT work culture in India is totally messed up and has now started harming the work culture of the nation as a whole. Working 12+ hours a day and 6 or even 7 days a week is more the rule than the exception.
Consequences:
- A majority of IT people suffer from health problems.As most of the IT workforce is still very young, the problem isn't very obvious today but it will hit with unbearable ferocity when these youngsters get to their 40s.
- Stress levels are unbelievable high. Stress management is a cover topic in magazines and newspapers and workshops on the subject are regularly overbooked.
- Most IT people have hardly any social / family life to talk of.
,/li> - As IT folk are rich by Indian standards, they try to buy their way out of their troubles and have incurred huge debts by buying expensive houses, gizmos and fancy cars.
Plush offices, fat salaries and latest gizmos can give you happiness only if you have a life in the first place.
The reason I feel this culture has emerged, is the servile attitude of the companies. Here's a tip for any company in the west planning to outsource to India. If you feel that a project can be completed in 6 weeks by 4 people, always demand that it be completed in 2 weeks by 3 people.
Guess what, most Indian companies will agree. The project will then be hyped up as an "extremely critical" one and the 3 unfortunate souls allocated to it will get very close to meeting the almighty by the time they deliver the project in 2 weeks. Surprisingly, they will deliver in 2-3 weeks, get bashed up for any delays and the company will soon boast about how they deliver good quality in reasonable time and cost. Has anyone in India ever worked on a project that wasn't "extremely critical"?
I was once at a session where a top boss of one of India's biggest IT firms was asked a question about what was so special about their company and his answer was that we are the "Yes" people with the "We Can Do It " attitude. It is all very well for the top boss to say "We Can Do It ".. what about the project teams who wish to say "Please....We Can't Do It " to the unreasonable timelines...I was tempted to ask "What death benefits does your company offer to the teams that get killed in the process?". I sure was ashamed to see that a fellow Indian was openly boasting about the fact that he and his company had no backbone. The art of saying No or negotiating reasonable time frames for the team is very conspicuous by its absence. Outsourcing customers more often than not simply walk all over Indian software companies. The outsourcer surely cannot be blamed as it is right for him to demand good quality in the least cost and time.
Exhaustion = Zero Innovation
- How many Indians in India are thought leaders in their software segment? - Very few
- How much software innovation happens in India? - Minimal
- Considering that thousands of Indians in India use Open Source software, how many actually contribute? - Very few
Surprisingly, put the same Indian in a company "in" the US and he suddenly becomes innovative and a thought leader in his field. The reason is simple, the only thing an exhausted body and mind can do well, is sleep. zzzzzz
I can pretty much bet on it that we will never see innovation from any of 10000+ person code factories in India.
If you are someone sitting in the US, UK... and wondering why the employees can't stand up, that's the most interesting part of the story. Read on...
The Problem
The software professional Indian is today making more money in a month than what his parents might have made in an year. Very often a 21 year old newbie software developer makes more money than his/her 55 year old father working in an old world business. Most of these youngsters are well aware of this gap and so work under an impression that they are being paid an unreasonable amount of money. They naturally equate unreasonable money with unreasonable amount of work.
Another important factor is this whole bubble that an IT person lives in.. An IT professional walks with a halo around his or her head. They are the Cool, Rich Gen Next .. the Intelligentsia of the New World... they travel all over the world, vacation at exotic locations abroad, talk "american", are more familiar of the geography of the USA than that of India and yes of course, they are the hottest things in the Wedding Market!!!
This I feel is the core problem because if employees felt they were being exploited, things would change.
I speak about this to some of my friends and the answer is generally "Hey Harshad, what you say is correct and we sure are suffering, but why do you think we are being paid this much money? It's not for 40 hours but for 80 hours a week. And anyway what choice do we have? It's the same everywhere."
So can we make things change? Is there a way to try and stop an entire generation of educated Indians from ending up with "no life".
Solutions
- Never complement someone for staying till midnight or working 7 days a week.
Companies need to stop hiding behind the excuse that the time difference between India and the west is the reason why people need to stay in office for 14 hours a day. Staying late should be a negative thing that should work against an employee in his appraisals. Never complement someone for staying till midnight or working 7 days a week .
NASSCOM (National Association for Software and Services Companies) and CSI (Computer Society Of India) are perhaps the only two well known software associations in India and both I feel have failed the software employee. I do not recall any action from these organizations to try and improve the working conditions of software employees. This has to change.
I am not in favor of forming trade unions for software people, as trade unions in India have traditionally been more effective at ruining businesses and making employees inefficient than getting employees their rights and helping business do well. So existing bodies like NASSCOM should create and popularize employee welfare cells at a state / regional level and these cells should work only for employee welfare and not be puppets in the hands of the companies.
If the industry does not itself create proper forums for employee welfare, it's likely that the government / trade unions will interfere and mess up India's sunshine industry.
Last word
I am sure some of my thoughts come from the fact that I too worked in such an environment for a few years and perhaps I haven't got over the frustrations I experienced back then. So think about my views with a pinch of salt but do think about it. And if you have an opinion on this issue, don't forget to add a comment to this article
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Money.. Money.. Money - 1
The phone was ringing constantly in top volume. The polyphonic ring tone was traveling to almost all corners of the 2 Bedroom Flat in Ghatkopar. No one was answering it. The flat was a spacious one if anyone considering 1100 square feet of floor space in a city like Mumbai. Kiran Cooperative Housing Society was actually made on the land meant for rehabilitating slum people of Kurla. But as it often happens in Mumbai, the land sharks got the smell of a deal for the taking. They are the ones who actually oiled the right palms to acquire the land and build a ten storied building. And yes there was no one who can be deemed a proper slum dweller living in the building. At a going price of thirty five lakhs per flat no one expects that kind of benevolence as well. Now why and how the building came to be known as Kiran Cooperative is not known to many. Some people guess that the promoter making this building might have been a big fan of Sharukh Khan for his K..KK..kk..kiran style. But then all are vague guesses. The Know-it-alls find the Cooperative part more interesting as they think that the usage of the word has been done only to evade the property taxes as well as to give the building a somewhat dignified middle class outlook in line with its birth history. The phone was actually a new Reliance land line connection with all the latest gadgets like polyphonic ring tones, caller id, SMS facility etc built in.
It was 7 in the morning and Mr. Anil Chandiramani was getting agitated as he was working late at night and the constant ringing was actually disturbing his morning laziness. Anil lives in 303 and the phone was ringing in the flat 304. Because of the thinness of the wall (again the promoter has to be blamed for that) was making him feel as if the instrument was ringing in his drawing room. While listening to the shrill polyphonic ring he was thinking about giving the neighboring flat a visit. But then actually he was in two minds. The flat 304 was vacant for a long time as the owner of the flat Mr. Naveen Khare was an NRI settled in US. And people in the building had this notion that this flat was actually purchased by Mr. Khare to make sure that he has some Indian roots left at least to which he can come back. But keeping a flat empty for long is again not an advisable thing to do as the space crunch in Mumbai has actually lead to people taking the initiative and breaking in into empty flats and squatting there for as long as possible. Last Sunday Anil had noticed that the flat is not empty anymore. The Good Mr. Khare might be keeping tenants, Anil guessed and gave it no further thought. The next day Anil was waiting for the lift when the door of the flat 304 opened. The lady who came out and started to put in the lock was somewhere in her late thirties, although Anil could have swear that she looked not a day younger than 30. An almost hour glass figure, she had with some amount of excess fat in proper places making the view from behind more interesting. When she turned, Anil immediately caught site of a dimpled face with a fair complexion, which in Mumbaiya Hindi would have warranted the comment “Jhakas”. She was wearing a tastefully cut opal green kurta with a beige salwar. The only thing that he noted more than anything else was the coldness in her eyes. Both her eyes were on him but it seemed that his presence did not register at all. As she started coming towards the elevator, she did not even seem to care that Anil was almost ogling at her. They went down together, with Anil almost searching for words to make an introduction. But the coldness of the lady gave him an idea that it might be a safe ploy. Anil was actually married and waiting for his family from Baroda to join him shortly in Mumbai where he was just settling down in his new job posting at Indian Oil Corporation.
Anil was still in his bed and mulling on whether to go and knock on the door. In posh apartment complexes like these people don’t care about their neighbours. But Anil has noticed that in the last seven days almost all the residents of Kiran have taken note of this lady. But the coldness shown by the woman at any kind of friendly advance has actually deterred the inhabitants from any kind of close encounters.
The ringing stopped. And then it started again. Having enough of it Anil went out of his bed and opened his flat’s door and went into the small lobby. He mustered enough courage to walk up to flat 304. As he was just going to press the calling bell button he noticed something odd. The morning newspaper and the milk were lying un-collected. And the door was not locked at all. He pushed it lightly and it opened up in front of him. A fishy odor greeted his nose. Anil would never forget the sceen he saw in whole of his life. In front of him there were heaps of female clothes including lingerie, a blood soaked salwar and a torn kurta and the whole of the hall was smeared with blood. With the initial numbness passing away Anil started screaming at the top his voice. (To be continued..)
It was 7 in the morning and Mr. Anil Chandiramani was getting agitated as he was working late at night and the constant ringing was actually disturbing his morning laziness. Anil lives in 303 and the phone was ringing in the flat 304. Because of the thinness of the wall (again the promoter has to be blamed for that) was making him feel as if the instrument was ringing in his drawing room. While listening to the shrill polyphonic ring he was thinking about giving the neighboring flat a visit. But then actually he was in two minds. The flat 304 was vacant for a long time as the owner of the flat Mr. Naveen Khare was an NRI settled in US. And people in the building had this notion that this flat was actually purchased by Mr. Khare to make sure that he has some Indian roots left at least to which he can come back. But keeping a flat empty for long is again not an advisable thing to do as the space crunch in Mumbai has actually lead to people taking the initiative and breaking in into empty flats and squatting there for as long as possible. Last Sunday Anil had noticed that the flat is not empty anymore. The Good Mr. Khare might be keeping tenants, Anil guessed and gave it no further thought. The next day Anil was waiting for the lift when the door of the flat 304 opened. The lady who came out and started to put in the lock was somewhere in her late thirties, although Anil could have swear that she looked not a day younger than 30. An almost hour glass figure, she had with some amount of excess fat in proper places making the view from behind more interesting. When she turned, Anil immediately caught site of a dimpled face with a fair complexion, which in Mumbaiya Hindi would have warranted the comment “Jhakas”. She was wearing a tastefully cut opal green kurta with a beige salwar. The only thing that he noted more than anything else was the coldness in her eyes. Both her eyes were on him but it seemed that his presence did not register at all. As she started coming towards the elevator, she did not even seem to care that Anil was almost ogling at her. They went down together, with Anil almost searching for words to make an introduction. But the coldness of the lady gave him an idea that it might be a safe ploy. Anil was actually married and waiting for his family from Baroda to join him shortly in Mumbai where he was just settling down in his new job posting at Indian Oil Corporation.
Anil was still in his bed and mulling on whether to go and knock on the door. In posh apartment complexes like these people don’t care about their neighbours. But Anil has noticed that in the last seven days almost all the residents of Kiran have taken note of this lady. But the coldness shown by the woman at any kind of friendly advance has actually deterred the inhabitants from any kind of close encounters.
The ringing stopped. And then it started again. Having enough of it Anil went out of his bed and opened his flat’s door and went into the small lobby. He mustered enough courage to walk up to flat 304. As he was just going to press the calling bell button he noticed something odd. The morning newspaper and the milk were lying un-collected. And the door was not locked at all. He pushed it lightly and it opened up in front of him. A fishy odor greeted his nose. Anil would never forget the sceen he saw in whole of his life. In front of him there were heaps of female clothes including lingerie, a blood soaked salwar and a torn kurta and the whole of the hall was smeared with blood. With the initial numbness passing away Anil started screaming at the top his voice. (To be continued..)
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Dawn with hope
It was not raining, but was about to rain. The canopy of the sky seemed to gawk towards earth and the dark was getting even darker, the lanky coconut trees swung their heads, as if in despair. The waves fumed, as if with rage against the rough caress of the strong winds that were blowing over the seas, as they lashed against the shoreline. Arnab felt the first drops of the rain as the haze over the east moved closer. It was not a day that you would want to venture out in the open seas as he saw few small boats at a distance, wobble over the surface vanishing every now and then between the crests and troughs of the swelling water. The lighthouse stood silently like a ghost on the east of where he sat, in the direction of the arriving rains. He had looked at the red and white bands that adorned the lighthouse and made it look like a Lego toy from a distance. The beach was deserted. He took a swig from the bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag and felt the burn of alcohol as he ingested it. He felt very bitter like the taste of the cigarette that was lingering in his mouth. Nothing was going according to how he had dreamt.
He proceeded to move to the small shelf-like shelter that had formed under a large overhang boulder on the beach. It shielded the rain which was driving harder now and he could scarcely see the lighthouse through the haze. He was drenched thoroughly when he had finally made himself comfortable under the shelter. He groped his pockets urgently and swore under his breath as he took out a cigarette pack. They were dry to his relief as he proceeded to light one with the aid of his wind-proof lighter. Dragging hungrily at the cigarette he let the kick set in. The alcohol was taking effect and he could sense in his head a falling sensation. He took another large gulp from the bottle.
He had received the news of his failure only today just after he had arrived back home from his college in Pune. Satish had called up and had informed him of the final list and that his name did not figure in it. The interview had been fine, the HR round also went fine and he was confident he would make it to the most prestigious IT company of the country but … Arnab took another gulp and felt slightly numbed. He took the bottle out from the sodden paper bag and lifted it up to see the level of the golden yellow fluid inside. He was startled. There was hardly a peg or two left in it. He realized with rising concern that he had almost ingested a whole pint of whiskey.
The rain was slowing now. It was not a seasonal rainfall and Arnab knew that it would soon pass. He took another swig and felt his limit. The boats were now much closer but the swell of the seas still made them disappear and reappear amongst the waves. It was almost dusk, and Arnab saw the beam of the lighthouse light up. The lighthouse seemed very lonely in the stretch of the rocky coastline and Arnab felt a kind of solidarity with it. The difference being while the lighthouse had light he had none. The immediate future looked pitch black and bereft of any hopes. There were a few more campus interviews coming up but he has lost all his hopes. This was the third time that he had been through with the interview only to be refused the employment offer letter. All his classmates were by then placed in some organization or the other and it had been very discouraging. He could see the look of pity in the eyes of his classmates and knew he was a topic of their discussion. In spite of being moderately brilliant in his class, he was still jobless. He had taken to mailing his seniors in the alumni association of his college stating his plight but none could help. None SHALL help he thought bitterly.
The light was fast fading now and the skies have cleared a bit. In the gloom Arnab could still make out the boats. He wondered if the fishermen were happy with their lives. He often would look around him and watch the people intently. He tried to make out if a person was happy and if he had any complaints in life. Often he would find that everyone had problems, the difference was how each coped with them. He took a final long gulp and held the bottle to his lips till he was certain nothing of the fluid was wasted. He then threw it away and the bottle shattered hitting a rock. He tried to get up but fell and then blissfully passed out.
When he woke it was dark and the sky was clear. There was a bright moonlight and the sea, quiet now, glowed with strange green phosphorescence. The sea had receded baring the jagged rocks that would have been otherwise submerged. Arnab felt cold and tried to sit up. His head ached terribly and his mouth felt dry. Slowly realization set in that he was alone in the beach and looking at his watch he realized it was well past four in the morning. He gave a start. His parents would have been worried to death by then for he had not reported to them since his coming to the beach alone that evening. He felt all the more miserable, irresponsible and guilty. Pulling himself up from the sand he walked out from under the overhang shelter and looked at the lighthouse. It was an unending motion of the lights that threw a powerful beam across the seas. The Lighthouse, the moonlight and the splashing of the seas had added to the eerie atmosphere. Arnab had never seen the sea during this time of the day and felt strangely elated at the seascape. He fumbled for a cigarette and finding one lit it. Walking unsteadily, still under the influence of the alcohol; he stepped up between the rocks and made his way towards the more sandy part of the beach beyond the lighthouse.
The road was just about hundred meters from the lighthouse and the parking lot was a further hundred meters or so from there. He reached the base of the light house when he realized that he was strangely not so worried now. The sleep had helped to ease his tensions and he felt transformed. Still making his way through the scattered rocks he joined the road. He could see the parking lot and the small police booth at some distance. Arnab walked up to the parking area and saw his bike at once. He was worried if it had been stolen but seeing it there relieved him. He took his seat and puffed away in silence and watched the eastern horizon turn deep violet. The dawn was breaking.
Arnab was deep in retrospect irrespective of the dull throbbing pain in his head. He had felt a change come over him from the last evening and felt the change was positive. He remembered his suicidal thoughts and felt he had crossed into the stage of acceptance. There were four phases of the mental state of human beings, he knew. When a person comes to know of some terrible misfortune “Denial” sets in, where they simply deny that the terrible incident actually took place. It could last for a minute to a year depending on the sufferer in question. Then there was the state of “Doubt”, wherein the sufferer starts to doubt whether the incident actually took place. Then “Uncertainty” follows, where the person finds that the incident might have had taken place but still has doubts but of much lower intensity. Finally, state of “Acceptance” sets in, when the person resigns to the incident.
The lights of the lighthouse went out. The eastern sky was pale grey now, turning steadily into faint white and then as if with an explosion the first rays of sun lighted up the eastern sky. Looking at the sunrise Arnab felt hope flooding his senses like the new day’s promise as the sky progressively turned from ash to blue. The whole incident took no more than a minute. He threw away the butt of the cigarette he had been puffing and which had presently died out. He watched for a while and when his eyes began to water from the intensity of the sunrays he kicked the machine to life.
A new day has dawned and Arnab would try again…
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Do you cry too?
Abhra watched the station of Yashwantpur pass as the train started rolling. He cast a last look at the landscape that was visible beyond the station walls and noticed the busy traffic. He took notice of the sad face of the little girl he had come to adore so much. Hena had been on the verge of tears. She clutched at the Bugs Bunny; she had earlier received as a gift from Abhra and lifted a silent but very meaningful eye at him as if to say “please don’t go”. Suzanne was waving but Abhra could tell she felt sad too. It was already getting dark and the lights of the city were starting to come on. It was a sight that he would remember and more because of Suzanne Mridul Iyyer. The thought of her had brought a lump in his throat and he felt heavy at heart. It seemed only yesterday that he had received the letter that was mistakenly sent to him…
***
He had received a letter from some Mridul Iyyer from Bangalore branch of his office stating him to perform a peer review on the report sent along with the mail. He had not understood a word of the letter neither could he get how it got to him in the first place. He then had looked up on the mail server address book and found that there were two Abhras listed; he had realized it had been sent to him by mistake and replied to the mail to that effect. He had received yet another such mail the following week. That time too he had politely sent the reply stating that he was not the intended recipient. When he had received a third mail from Mridul Iyyer he had not even bothered to open the attachment and had replied back rather urging the person (he had not been sure of the gender then and the name had not suggested the gender either) to stop mailing him every now and then. Abhra was not of those types who would send out mails without a thorough checking of the language, the idea and the tone the language conveyed, the spelling errors, the mailing list and so on. In a nutshell he was a perfectionist and never left anything for a further comment from his seniors. So, the idea of a person sending out project mails to him was unthinkable. Mridul had been very polite and apologetic in the reply. The mail thanked him for his continued help and also stated that Mridul had found Abhra’s mails reflected his cheerful disposition. Abhra had sought clarification feeling elated and thus their pen-friendship grew. It had been a whole month of courtesy good morning mails and other chit chats that they had first spoke, over the intra-organizational telephone network. Mridul, as Abhra had learnt then, was a lady of about thirty (much to his surprise as he had thought, by the name, that Mridul was some guy. It was later that he learnt her full name that he realized that she used her middle name for official purposes.) and was married. They had then exchanged their mobile numbers and kept in touch. While Abhra’s office colleagues jeered at him for having a married lady as a friend Abhra knew and felt that it was nothing to be ashamed of. A friend is a friend be of any age.
Their friendship had grown for about five months and Abhra had come to know about her in-laws, her husband and her little five year old daughter Hena, when Abhra was selected to be sent to Bangalore for some project requirements. It was then that Mridul had suggested that he should stay at her place. Abhra was not too sure if he should accept the invitation. It had been only five months and they have only spoken over the phone or had exchanged mails. They had not even seen each other. Abhra knew about facial expressions and body language, and he also knew that they were difficult to forge and therefore they would only give a true picture of a person. But to observe them you would have to meet the person and unless you meet the person you will never have those gut feelings about him/her that often turn true. He was skeptic about the invitation but agreed all the same. After all what had he to lose. Suzanne worked for the same company that he worked for; she was polite in her mails, could converse extremely well in flawless English, could empathize with the finer feelings of life, liked poetry, liked to go biking and feel the freedom, etc, etc. What had to fear for thought Abhra and decided to stay at her place.
He had been received at the Yashwantpur Station by Suzanne and her little daughter Hena. Abhra had immediately taken a liking for the kid. She was a sweet kid with an aura of innocence that is hard to come by amongst kids of her age. Kids were born wiser now often Abhra had thought. They seemed to know all about everything thanks to the age of information and idiot boxes! To a four year old Marukh Mann or Theity Pinta would be the role models, to them entertainment would mean watching the item numbers and dance along, to them reading story books were a taboo or even the good old Grandpa-Stories were a complete waste of time. But Hena seemed strangely like what normal kids would be like. Abhra knew about Suzanne’s father, who was a very good storyteller and also knew that Hena spent a considerable amount of time with her grandparents since both her parents were of working community. That would have been the reason for her sweet and innocent nature thought Abhra, or perhaps it was a regional occurrence. Abhra had remembered his niece in Kolkata who was about the same age as Hena and felt the glaring distinction.
Suzanne had a very calm and calculated and friendly outlook it had seemed to Abhra, as she deftly drove her way through the famous Bangalore Traffic snarls. They had talked about how excited they both were about this trip and how the mails had started a friendship that has resulted in this meeting. Hena had been intently following the conversation of the stranger she came to meet and when Abhra noticed she seemed to curl up in shyness. They had seen the VidhanaSauda, the lower house of the state parliament, the famous Lal Bagh, the Hosur Lake and the Museum on their way to Koramangala where Suzanne stayed. It was a Sunday and the PVR had stated to draw the crowd even at the early hours of morning. Abhra could make out the uniqueness of Bangalore he had heard so much about. The climate was like the most wonderful thing about Bangalore, and Abhra was in love with the city within the very first hour that he had arrived.
They had spent the day together. Sudhakar, Suzanne’s hubby, whom Abhra had met when he had arrived at Suzanne’s place, was a very jolly fellow. He was a scientist at the NAL (National Aeronautics Limited) and knew a little of Bengali, much to Abhra’s pleasure. They had gone out to the PVR where they had window shopped for an hour before Abhra bought a stuffed Bugs Bunny for Hena, who had been so overjoyed that she had kept springing on every step she took as if in a dance and continued to do so for the rest of the day. They had lunched at the Maharaja and then they went back to Suzanne’s place. They lived in a sprawling complex of three bed rooms of which one was allotted at his disposal. Tired and stuffed Abhra had rolled into a slumber. In the evening they had gone over to the PVR again and enjoyed a movie.
The following days passed rapidly, for Abhra had to work very hard for the requirement demanded it. He came back late accompanied by Suzanne on most of the days for she too had to work late to meet her unrealistic deadlines as she had put it. Then on Saturday Abhra accompanied by the whole family went to visit on Suzanne’s parents. Mr. Charles, Suzanne’s father, was indeed a very easy going personality and he started to converse with Abhra as if he knew Abhra for a long time. They had talked about Suzanne’s childhood, the climate of the city and the history of Bangalore and many more things that Abhra could not clearly recall but the overall visit was a huge success. Abhra met Suzanne’s brother Abraham who it seemed took pleasure in pulling Suzanne’s leg. They had discussed lots of incidents and Abhra had shared his’ too. They had their dinner there and had planned out the outing for Sunday. The food was prepared by Suzanne and Abhra admitted that she was indeed a fine cook.
Abhra had till Tuesday for the assignment and as it drew near he had felt his heart add on weight. He could not gauge it but his week long association with this family had moved him closer to Suzanne. Sunday they had gone out to see the city. They had visited the ISKCON temple and then they had lunch at the Nandini Chain of Hotels. Abhra had found the traditional North Indian food much palatable. He had been fed up with the South Indian dishes that had to be sour and contained the traditional South Indian sambhar daal and rasam. Then they had visited the NAL where Sudhakar worked. Abhra could not of course get to the more sensitive areas of the laboratory but he was satisfied with the tour his hosts had prepared for. They had then gone to Suzanne’s father’s place where Hena was dropped off and they proceeded to the famous and notorious M. G. Road. It was a sight to be remembered for the place seemed like buzzing with crowd. With neon lights and pubs all around, it was as if Abhra was in Las Vegas. They had taken on a small pub and had chattered away their time over pegs of strong liquor, with the music playing in the background. Abhra found a glaring difference in the way pubs are conducted in Kolkata. He had the opportunity to be at the Someplace Else, the pub in Kolkata that he had heard too many praises about, but it was dingy and played the music too loud. The girls, mostly of the student category were no doubt very different from what Abhra was accustomed seeing in Kolkata. There in Bangalore, it seemed, the girls were all from the US of America. They certainly dressed and behaved similarly and perhaps thought in the same lines as them, Abhra had said. Suzanne had endorsed his views and had remarked “You know Kolkata chicks become babes in Bangalore. The transformation is amazing and I had the opportunity to see one change myself”. Abhra had been taken aback by the comment but he had kept quiet. Suzanne by then had had a drink too much.
Tuesday had come. Suzanne had taken the day off for Abhra was to leave. Abhra could sense the heaviness that kept mounting till it was time to say goodbyes. Abhra had bid farewell to Sudhakar in the morning when he had left for work. Suzanne gave him a ride to the station. Abhra had carried pure cotton saree from Kolkata. He had decided to give it away on the occasion of farewell. At the station Abhra had presented the sari to Suzanne who was clearly overjoyed. Cotton sarees were costly in Bangalore Abhra had learnt then. He took his berth in the train and it was then that he received a Blazer from Suzanne. It was beautiful. Abhra had been wondering what was there in the bag that Suzanne had carried along with her, he knew then that it had the blazer in it. He was overcome with powerful emotions but he had steadied himself….
***
He could barely see the face of Hena now but that was not because of the distance. Abhra realized he had been crying and the tears blocked his vision. He felt like crying out loudly to ease the pain that had resulted from his attempts to hold back his tears. He could hardly breathe. It was strange that human mind can be attached to someone in a way to induce tears and that too in such a short time. Abhra remembered his initial fears and doubts. They seemed so futile now. As the train gathered speed and the station lights went out of view Abhra could not stand at the gate any longer. He went into the wash room and cried his heart out.
Monday, November 14, 2005
Love in August...............(Part 3)
*** 13th August 2005
10:45 AM.
---------
It was a holiday and Sailo woke up late. He was deeply into the morning newspaper after having a light breakfast when Subha came looking fussed up. He flung onto the bed and let out a deep sigh. Sailo sensed the symptoms... Subha had some terrible announcement so he folded up the newspaper and turned to face him expectantly.
“This came in today fifteen minutes ago.” Subha said and handed over his mobile phone.
“’thnks for ur concrn.got chnce in woodlands.they confirmed yesterday.’”- Sailo read aloud the message and gave out a soft whistle. Now everything was making sense to him. The game was on. He could not however understand why Subha was dejected. He went on to explain his theory.
“What did I tell you? She had everything fixed but had asked you to help.” Sailo said winking, “Look this is great news! Have you congratulated her? You should have done it.”
“You laugh and the world laughs with you. You cry and the world laughs even louder- is that what you are doing Sailo?” Subha snapped back.
“I suggest you let go that anger and listen...” Sailo said leaning forward “... give her a call and let her know that you are very happy that she has got through in Woodlands. Tell her anything and show that you are really relieved. Then, say goodbye, and make it sound very convincing as if this is your last call for the reason has ceased to exist to call her up again. Then see what happens.”
“What will happen?” Subha said sitting up now. “What will happen, Sailo? Will she say...'No no don't hang up dear Subha? I cannot live without you ... bla bla bla'“
“Trust me. I have never let you down, have I?” Sailo said sensing the sarcasm.
“Only that, I have never asked your help before... yes you have been very reliable... that is most comforting” Subha was furious. He could not see what Sailo was driving him into. It seemed they were daydreaming about this whole game thing.
“Okay but do trust me this time. I am sure the whole situation would be very clear once you can do it well.”
“Fine. I guess there is nothing more to do. So I will do it; repent all my life but I will do it. And I will let you know, you Smart-guy, Mr. Know-all.” Subha said resigning.
Subha went to the balcony for the signal was better there. He dialed. Sailo could make out his voice but not what he was saying... he was, for the first time, a bit tensed at his suggestion. He knew if the girl was interested she would not fail to see that it was a goodbye call and would do everything to stop this happening but if she was not... “God help me” he thought.
Subha came back into the room almost after a fifteen minute talk. He was frowning. “There is a problem. The authorities of Woodlands had obviously called her up and informed her about some problem. She has to go down there and sort it out. There is some problem with the dates. She said it was nothing very serious but some additional harassment...” Subha trailed off.
“Hooray! Subha you are in! YOU ARE DEFINITELY IN. Congratulations man! You have won yourself a pretty girlfriend. I am envious” Sailo burst out relieved.
“What the heck? Why do you say so? You are not joking are you?” Subha demanded indignantly. “What is her problem got to do with this?”
“Don't you see she has kept an avenue open for you to enquire again? Don’t you see it?” Sailo was now smiling.
Realization set in. It took Sailo a Herculean effort to draw out the conclusion to Subha's satisfaction but at last Subha saw logic in the explanation. Sailo was right. He had tried to say the goodbye with a lot of conviction and then she fell silent for a moment... Loss of signal perhaps Subha had thought, but then she started with her latest problems saying about the alleged call and the harassment she would have to undergo... She did not say all these when Subha had congratulated her but waited till he had said the parting words. Subha began to see the logic Sailo had laid and he too felt like his former self again. Hopes began to rise and he was seeing light again.
“You might be right” he said at length, “but what now? She has started a new episode altogether. What do I do Sailo?”
“Send her the mushiest SMS you can think of and wish her all the luck. Also mention that you would like to know the status of this problem when it is addressed”
“Now you are talking.” Subha smiled and started the composition immediately. “What do I write?”
“That is something that you have figure out yourself for it has to be original...” said Sailo.
Subha stopped for a moment and looked at his friend. The cool and calculated and always-right fellow was very much unlike him and yet he seemed so wise and so much ahead of his years. Subha wished many a times under different circumstances he could be like his friend. That was one such moment. Sailo was not a very hard working and exercise crazy types and therefore he was of more than normal gait. He was, what doctors would call, slightly overweight. With a round face and oval shaped glasses he looked no more than sixteen but his eyes were bright and intelligent and often Subha could read a lot of expressions in his eyes. It was almost as if he could speak with them. When Subha had met Sailo, he had been much heavier and it was Subha's constant nagging that Sailo has trimmed down a bit resulting from his controlled diet. Sailo was fearful of exercising and Subha's repeated insistence to Sailo to join him in his jogging had been fruitless. He was the late-riser types. Subha remembered his more important work at hand and proceeded to write a romantic SMS for the first time in his life.
8:40 PM.
--------
It was adda at Sailo's place and Subha was chattering loudly about the recent developments. Raja was listening attentively. He was Subha's friend since childhood. Raja had come to Sailo’s place with Subha and since then he too had taken a liking to him. Raja was adding comments here and there, clarifying the details where Subha had missed out when the SMS came. Subha opened it with obvious expectancy and made a face that suggested he had been taken for a ride. Sailo leaned right and tried to read the message when Subha handed the phone out to him with a puzzled expression.
“'Thiking about me? Actually I am also doing the same. Ha ha.'” Sailo read aloud for the benefit of all present. “Well, well, well. It looks like she has dropped her guard. I can hardly expect this SMS from a stranger... What say you Raja?”
“True. It sounds like she is enjoying the confusion. You can ask her out now” said Raja, “or at least make unannounced phone calls.”
Sailo had recovered from the state of confusion and felt clear headed. Sailo was right yet again. He could not believe the ease with which he had been able to conduct this whole affair... it was almost surreal. Thanks to Sailo's vast experience in dealing with the fairer sex, he could not have made it even to the first SMS stage without him.
As if reading his thoughts, Sailo asked “So when are we to get the treat we deserve? Next Saturday okay with you Raja?” It was just a courtesy question. Sailo knew Raja would postpone anything for a treat; but he had to make sure that Subha would not give them a miss. As expected Raja had any problems but the host Subha himself protested.
“Let us not count our chickens before they hatch...” he tried, “Letting me get the facts straight and then perhaps...”
“No excuses Subha, you miser” added Raja, “Remember you had promised me a treat, which never materialized, when you get through in Joint? I still remember; so no lax this time. Next Saturday it is.”
“Yes next Saturday” two cried out together.
“But, Guys this is not even a date it is just a harmless SMS” Subha protested.
“Okay. If say, you go out with Deboti within the next Saturday then? Would you still not treat us?” said Sailo, his eyes taking that unusual glitter.
Subha knew Sailo has decided upon the next course of action and it was probably to make him go out with Deboti by the next week. He was excited. “Tell me what do you have in mind?”
“First things first, reply the SMS with an affirmation and say something very poetic. If I am not mistaken, she is in a romantic mood right now and you should hit the iron when it is hot. Then I will tell you what to do.”
Subha had been thinking in the same lines and he set off to reply. Raja poured over his screen watching with rising excitement at the prospect of playing the mediator in such sensitive and important times. When the reply was sent Subha turned to his “guiding light” as Raja had put it.
“The next time you meet her or call her up do make sure you get her college schedule. If she has a busy schedule and cannot bunk classes then try to meet on the 15th, it is a holiday, so no college, and go out to some eatery if possible. Get her to talk and I am sure you will have your date. I would suggest The Scoop”
“Remember to sound assertive” Raja chipped in.
Subha felt like he was a seven year old, being warned of the dangers associated with talking to strangers, but he was prepared to let his friends take him on if the prize was Deboti. Only the other day he had heard the song by some Ronan Keating. It was particularly very catchy and it seemed to have captured all of Subha's feelings. It was something like “It's amazing how you could speak right to my heart... Without saying a word, you can light up the dark... “ he did not know the words well but he felt in harmony with the feelings it expressed. He decided to try his luck with the setting up of a date with Deboti.
“Sleep well” Sailo said when they parted at the gate.
*** 14th August 2005
10:00 AM.
---------
“Sailo?”
“Yes”
“I am afraid, THE TREAT IS ON!! “Shouted Subha, at the other end of the phone.
Sailo had to take the receiver away from his ears for the benefit of his ear drum, but the news had registered and he felt almost Godly. This was the first time he has ever provided his expertise in dealing with women for someone else. He felt relieved. Having had to bear in mind the constant pressure that he was in ... from his experience he knew affairs could ruin friendships and create misunderstandings. Had this idea of his' backfired, he had no doubt that there would have been tensions between him and Subha. He took on the risk for he knew Subha and wished him well. He knew Subha was very serious about his likings and this girl, Deboti had bowled him over. “So what did you plan and when are you going out?”
“Tomorrow.” Subha said triumphantly “and this would have never been possible without you.... I simply cannot thank you enough... “
“No ‘thank you’ and ‘sorry’ in friendship.” Sailo cut him short “Wish you all the very best of luck.”
There was a pause and Subha seemed to be breathing heavily. When he spoke, the voice sounded somewhat choked “Sailo, you may be offended but I HAVE to thank you for what you have done. Had I been your position I would not have taken up the trouble of guiding you. You have helped me immensely. If this affair is to continue it would be solely because you have helped me overcome the toughest period of the courtship, 'making an impression'. I know I can handle from here on but I will never forget what you have done.”
“Okay! Save something for the treat too ...” said Sailo and they broke into a laugh.
*** 6th November 2005
8:00 PM.
--------
“Deboti, meet Sailendra alias Sailo... Sailo meet Deboti”
“Alias?” quizzed Sailo with a charming smile. “Nice to meet you Deboti”
“Nice to meet you too...” she said with a sweet voice “He always talks so highly of you, and keeps telling me that someday he will make me meet you because of something very special you did to help him out when he fell in love with me.”
“Oh that’s a loooong story and perhaps the evening would be spoiled if we start once again.”
Subha’s eyes met Sailo's and they winked.
10:45 AM.
---------
It was a holiday and Sailo woke up late. He was deeply into the morning newspaper after having a light breakfast when Subha came looking fussed up. He flung onto the bed and let out a deep sigh. Sailo sensed the symptoms... Subha had some terrible announcement so he folded up the newspaper and turned to face him expectantly.
“This came in today fifteen minutes ago.” Subha said and handed over his mobile phone.
“’thnks for ur concrn.got chnce in woodlands.they confirmed yesterday.’”- Sailo read aloud the message and gave out a soft whistle. Now everything was making sense to him. The game was on. He could not however understand why Subha was dejected. He went on to explain his theory.
“What did I tell you? She had everything fixed but had asked you to help.” Sailo said winking, “Look this is great news! Have you congratulated her? You should have done it.”
“You laugh and the world laughs with you. You cry and the world laughs even louder- is that what you are doing Sailo?” Subha snapped back.
“I suggest you let go that anger and listen...” Sailo said leaning forward “... give her a call and let her know that you are very happy that she has got through in Woodlands. Tell her anything and show that you are really relieved. Then, say goodbye, and make it sound very convincing as if this is your last call for the reason has ceased to exist to call her up again. Then see what happens.”
“What will happen?” Subha said sitting up now. “What will happen, Sailo? Will she say...'No no don't hang up dear Subha? I cannot live without you ... bla bla bla'“
“Trust me. I have never let you down, have I?” Sailo said sensing the sarcasm.
“Only that, I have never asked your help before... yes you have been very reliable... that is most comforting” Subha was furious. He could not see what Sailo was driving him into. It seemed they were daydreaming about this whole game thing.
“Okay but do trust me this time. I am sure the whole situation would be very clear once you can do it well.”
“Fine. I guess there is nothing more to do. So I will do it; repent all my life but I will do it. And I will let you know, you Smart-guy, Mr. Know-all.” Subha said resigning.
Subha went to the balcony for the signal was better there. He dialed. Sailo could make out his voice but not what he was saying... he was, for the first time, a bit tensed at his suggestion. He knew if the girl was interested she would not fail to see that it was a goodbye call and would do everything to stop this happening but if she was not... “God help me” he thought.
Subha came back into the room almost after a fifteen minute talk. He was frowning. “There is a problem. The authorities of Woodlands had obviously called her up and informed her about some problem. She has to go down there and sort it out. There is some problem with the dates. She said it was nothing very serious but some additional harassment...” Subha trailed off.
“Hooray! Subha you are in! YOU ARE DEFINITELY IN. Congratulations man! You have won yourself a pretty girlfriend. I am envious” Sailo burst out relieved.
“What the heck? Why do you say so? You are not joking are you?” Subha demanded indignantly. “What is her problem got to do with this?”
“Don't you see she has kept an avenue open for you to enquire again? Don’t you see it?” Sailo was now smiling.
Realization set in. It took Sailo a Herculean effort to draw out the conclusion to Subha's satisfaction but at last Subha saw logic in the explanation. Sailo was right. He had tried to say the goodbye with a lot of conviction and then she fell silent for a moment... Loss of signal perhaps Subha had thought, but then she started with her latest problems saying about the alleged call and the harassment she would have to undergo... She did not say all these when Subha had congratulated her but waited till he had said the parting words. Subha began to see the logic Sailo had laid and he too felt like his former self again. Hopes began to rise and he was seeing light again.
“You might be right” he said at length, “but what now? She has started a new episode altogether. What do I do Sailo?”
“Send her the mushiest SMS you can think of and wish her all the luck. Also mention that you would like to know the status of this problem when it is addressed”
“Now you are talking.” Subha smiled and started the composition immediately. “What do I write?”
“That is something that you have figure out yourself for it has to be original...” said Sailo.
Subha stopped for a moment and looked at his friend. The cool and calculated and always-right fellow was very much unlike him and yet he seemed so wise and so much ahead of his years. Subha wished many a times under different circumstances he could be like his friend. That was one such moment. Sailo was not a very hard working and exercise crazy types and therefore he was of more than normal gait. He was, what doctors would call, slightly overweight. With a round face and oval shaped glasses he looked no more than sixteen but his eyes were bright and intelligent and often Subha could read a lot of expressions in his eyes. It was almost as if he could speak with them. When Subha had met Sailo, he had been much heavier and it was Subha's constant nagging that Sailo has trimmed down a bit resulting from his controlled diet. Sailo was fearful of exercising and Subha's repeated insistence to Sailo to join him in his jogging had been fruitless. He was the late-riser types. Subha remembered his more important work at hand and proceeded to write a romantic SMS for the first time in his life.
8:40 PM.
--------
It was adda at Sailo's place and Subha was chattering loudly about the recent developments. Raja was listening attentively. He was Subha's friend since childhood. Raja had come to Sailo’s place with Subha and since then he too had taken a liking to him. Raja was adding comments here and there, clarifying the details where Subha had missed out when the SMS came. Subha opened it with obvious expectancy and made a face that suggested he had been taken for a ride. Sailo leaned right and tried to read the message when Subha handed the phone out to him with a puzzled expression.
“'Thiking about me? Actually I am also doing the same. Ha ha.'” Sailo read aloud for the benefit of all present. “Well, well, well. It looks like she has dropped her guard. I can hardly expect this SMS from a stranger... What say you Raja?”
“True. It sounds like she is enjoying the confusion. You can ask her out now” said Raja, “or at least make unannounced phone calls.”
Sailo had recovered from the state of confusion and felt clear headed. Sailo was right yet again. He could not believe the ease with which he had been able to conduct this whole affair... it was almost surreal. Thanks to Sailo's vast experience in dealing with the fairer sex, he could not have made it even to the first SMS stage without him.
As if reading his thoughts, Sailo asked “So when are we to get the treat we deserve? Next Saturday okay with you Raja?” It was just a courtesy question. Sailo knew Raja would postpone anything for a treat; but he had to make sure that Subha would not give them a miss. As expected Raja had any problems but the host Subha himself protested.
“Let us not count our chickens before they hatch...” he tried, “Letting me get the facts straight and then perhaps...”
“No excuses Subha, you miser” added Raja, “Remember you had promised me a treat, which never materialized, when you get through in Joint? I still remember; so no lax this time. Next Saturday it is.”
“Yes next Saturday” two cried out together.
“But, Guys this is not even a date it is just a harmless SMS” Subha protested.
“Okay. If say, you go out with Deboti within the next Saturday then? Would you still not treat us?” said Sailo, his eyes taking that unusual glitter.
Subha knew Sailo has decided upon the next course of action and it was probably to make him go out with Deboti by the next week. He was excited. “Tell me what do you have in mind?”
“First things first, reply the SMS with an affirmation and say something very poetic. If I am not mistaken, she is in a romantic mood right now and you should hit the iron when it is hot. Then I will tell you what to do.”
Subha had been thinking in the same lines and he set off to reply. Raja poured over his screen watching with rising excitement at the prospect of playing the mediator in such sensitive and important times. When the reply was sent Subha turned to his “guiding light” as Raja had put it.
“The next time you meet her or call her up do make sure you get her college schedule. If she has a busy schedule and cannot bunk classes then try to meet on the 15th, it is a holiday, so no college, and go out to some eatery if possible. Get her to talk and I am sure you will have your date. I would suggest The Scoop”
“Remember to sound assertive” Raja chipped in.
Subha felt like he was a seven year old, being warned of the dangers associated with talking to strangers, but he was prepared to let his friends take him on if the prize was Deboti. Only the other day he had heard the song by some Ronan Keating. It was particularly very catchy and it seemed to have captured all of Subha's feelings. It was something like “It's amazing how you could speak right to my heart... Without saying a word, you can light up the dark... “ he did not know the words well but he felt in harmony with the feelings it expressed. He decided to try his luck with the setting up of a date with Deboti.
“Sleep well” Sailo said when they parted at the gate.
*** 14th August 2005
10:00 AM.
---------
“Sailo?”
“Yes”
“I am afraid, THE TREAT IS ON!! “Shouted Subha, at the other end of the phone.
Sailo had to take the receiver away from his ears for the benefit of his ear drum, but the news had registered and he felt almost Godly. This was the first time he has ever provided his expertise in dealing with women for someone else. He felt relieved. Having had to bear in mind the constant pressure that he was in ... from his experience he knew affairs could ruin friendships and create misunderstandings. Had this idea of his' backfired, he had no doubt that there would have been tensions between him and Subha. He took on the risk for he knew Subha and wished him well. He knew Subha was very serious about his likings and this girl, Deboti had bowled him over. “So what did you plan and when are you going out?”
“Tomorrow.” Subha said triumphantly “and this would have never been possible without you.... I simply cannot thank you enough... “
“No ‘thank you’ and ‘sorry’ in friendship.” Sailo cut him short “Wish you all the very best of luck.”
There was a pause and Subha seemed to be breathing heavily. When he spoke, the voice sounded somewhat choked “Sailo, you may be offended but I HAVE to thank you for what you have done. Had I been your position I would not have taken up the trouble of guiding you. You have helped me immensely. If this affair is to continue it would be solely because you have helped me overcome the toughest period of the courtship, 'making an impression'. I know I can handle from here on but I will never forget what you have done.”
“Okay! Save something for the treat too ...” said Sailo and they broke into a laugh.
*** 6th November 2005
8:00 PM.
--------
“Deboti, meet Sailendra alias Sailo... Sailo meet Deboti”
“Alias?” quizzed Sailo with a charming smile. “Nice to meet you Deboti”
“Nice to meet you too...” she said with a sweet voice “He always talks so highly of you, and keeps telling me that someday he will make me meet you because of something very special you did to help him out when he fell in love with me.”
“Oh that’s a loooong story and perhaps the evening would be spoiled if we start once again.”
Subha’s eyes met Sailo's and they winked.
**** End****
Saturday, November 12, 2005
The Trekkers
The Group
These links give interesting info on Lava- rishap - kalimpong, the places where we went
http://www.trekearth.com/gallery/Asia/India/East/West_Bengal/kalimpong/photo112172.htm
http://www.wb.nic.in/westbg/kalimpong.html
http://www.east-himalaya.com/darjeeling/rishap.htm
http://www.bengalweb.com/wbtour/wbentou9.html
Antakshari around the Camp fire
View of kanchanjunga from Rishap Valley
Lava-Rishap-Kalimpong: a La Travelogue
Just tried my hands on a travalogue of our recent trip from the Adventure & trekking Club... I'll be happy to hear from you ;-) Kasi
What would you expect from a group of 23-some enthusiastic junta from their trekking expedition? Well lots, lots, lots of fun and 'real adventure', of course! Exactly, that's what we experienced in the Lava- Rishap- Kalimpong sojourn during 3/11 to 7/11 with around 86 hours of excitement and making friends all the way. And boy, it was awesome!
Going chronologically, the members started to Siliguri through the NBSTC Rocket Bus on 3/11/2005 (Thursday) at 8 p.m from the Esplanade Bus Station (Pls bear with my date and time details then and there, as I intended to capitulate these details too in this travelogue)
4/11/2005 (Friday)
We reached Siliguri at around 10 am amidst all the thuds along the bumpy road sessions of the rocket. After getting fresh and having brunch or lunch (as applicable to the individual), close to 1.30 pm, we started our scenic trip to Lava through a Swaraj Mazda van. Took a small stopping at the water falls after the Dantak Valley with some memorable snaps! The van reached Lava by 5 pm after heaps of hair pin bends and curves. The co ordinators – Sujoyda and Dipakda benevolently took care of hotel and lodging arrangements as well as synchronized the team all the way through . After the garam samose and chai, in clusters, evening walk started among us. People did flock the STD booths and did simple shopping of hats, bags etc. Then we had congregated back at the Unique Inn Hotel for the adda and dinner.
5/11/2005 (Saturday)
After the super-chill-thick-blanket-covered sleep followed by morning walk, lots of us had a darshan of the monastry with its striking landscape at Lava. By 10.30 am, we assembled at the Lava Jeep stand and a guide (Prem) was arranged. Debi da, Anita di steered the group all the way and co ordinators profusely guided us through the 'Mission Rishap'. Accompanied with gossip, fun and photos, wading through the jungle, we reached the interim point Tiphandhara (donno if I've spelled right). From a podium over there, an astounding view of Kanchanjunga delighted us. From there, we moved down the hill to reach Rishap by ~ 4 pm. Rishap, being less inhabited, looked as though specially made for a group like us. No doubt, the serene and calm environs gave tranquility to the mind. In fact, the entrance to Rishap itself was beautiful with its flora. We then went to our Lodge Hotel Snow View on the face of a dazzling valley. Yeah, by this time all of us were pretty hungry. A walk around the valley bypassed the time and hunger when the lunch was being prepared by the Snow View people. On returning back, we certainly were delighted with food which was worth the wait. Later, the evening started with the eventful masti bhari Antakshari around the campfire. I guess it certainly is still afresh in all of us. Veterans of gaane— Subhashish, Debashish, Anita di et. al added more glitter the event. Debi da constantly extended the camp fire with his periodical wood block inputs into the flames. Finally antakshari ended in a neutral verdict. Post dinner, everyone slept only to wake up soon to see the sun rise.
6/11/2005 (Sunday)
Time: 5.30 am. Most of the people flocked outside their rooms to see and capture the spectacular sun rise and sun rays through Kanchanjunga. As somebody rightly told, it certainly was 'a feast to the eyes'. Later by around 10 am, by means of 3 jeeps, we started to Lava through the narrow muddy hill roads (literally showered!) with stones and gravels. Yippee, these drivers were really talented! From there, we headed towards Kalimpong and reached there by around 12 noon. Armed with 3 vehicles, we went around the 7 minus 2 points sight seeing – Forest Musuem, Cantonment Golf Course (it remembers me how we took the snaps in a hurry burry there), View point (yeah that suicide point only!), Monastery and finally the Nursery. After lunch, by around 3.30 pm, we started to Siliguri in a Swaraj mazda van again. It felt as leaving something behind and going…. Siliguri was reached within 2.5 hours. Had enough time to hop around the shops outside Siliguri Bus Station as the Kolkata Bus departure time was at 7.30 pm. Some of us had been to the famous Hong Kong Market there and lots many bought Chai Patthi. Later we boarded the Kolkata Rocket bus, which was more spacious and comfortable than the one with which we came. Nevertheless, the roads were the same to give us the same disco shake! Raghu da promptly provided all with gangajal mineral water packs. Tarun and co. entertained the people with their bhoot stories in the back of the bus!
7/11/2005 (Monday)
Dawn came. As Kolkata was nearing, every one started bidding adieu at their respective destination. Really it was touching to part with the sweet memories cherished…..
Still the vivid memories of the bus ka discotheque, garam chai and momo, monastery,trek to Rishap, expedition to valleys, camp fire, Antakshari, Sun rise and rays thru kanchanjunga , jeep ride from rishap-lava-kalimpong, 5 points trip, 'Punjab restaurant experience (!)', and not to forget the Bhuter golpo…continues to hang around in all of us.
Friday, November 11, 2005
Love in August...............(Part 2)
9:10 AM.
--------
Subhankar was nervous. He could feel his palms go moist with as he neared the bus stop. Benefits of his low BMR, a direct consequence of his regular exercise, seemed to have deserted him and he felt very awkward within. What if she was not on the bus like the last two days? What if Deboti was on the bus and refused to hold the bag? He thought about it and then smiled... at least that would give him some solace that he tried... yes, Sailo was right a contact has to be made before anything else sets in. All he needed was a good conversation so that he may present his case before her.
He saw the bus come to a stop and to his surprise and relief the bus had no seats left. It happened very rarely as he boarded the bus form the stop next to the stand. Usually there would be seats but today there were none... he had never believed in the forecast section of the Telegraph magazine but he had looked it up yesterday after he had made up his mind to go through with Sailo's suggestion. The magazine promised new and exiting adventures, making new friends and lots of travel this week... perhaps this would be the new adventure, thought Subha. With all these thoughts he boarded.
There she was; sitting by the window of the seat reserved for the handicapped... Subha felt his heart skip a beat. He boarded and gave a customary glance around as to see if there were any places to sit and then stood near the first row of the mini bus. Did she show any interest? Did she just steal a glance? Subha broke into a cold sweat thinking what he was about to do. He looked around as if to find some support but he knew he had to do it alone and NOW!
“Hi Deboti, Could you please hold my bag?” he spoke. The tension seemed to have evaporated and a void filled the space. Now he has done it! There was no turning back now...for as a boy he had experience what words could do once they left the mouth and there was no turning it back.
Deboti glanced his way and accepted the bag. “Sure...” she said... looking uncertain “... Subhankar isn't it?”
Subha was impressed. This is after some very long time that a stranger had remembered his name. Generally people forget the name of the introduced person after a few days of introduction if they happened to have no business with them. She obviously had a good memory, Subha noted with rising relief of having passed the initial hurdle of breaking the ice. “You do have a good memory...” Subha began, “... I did not think you would recall my name... Thank you”
“What for...?”
“The bag was really heavy you see...” Subha managed the goof up.
“Oh!” she said and looked out of the window.
What Deboti did not know was the fact that Subha carried the same bag for the last four years. When Subha had first met Sailo in the bus 3A/1 on his way to
Deboti, it seemed, had taken a new outlook to the world outside the window. She stared out as if she had never seen the passing stores and bus stops. “Damn! What to do now?” thought Subha. “Nothing” replied some warning voice inside him and he heeded. There was hardly anything that could be done now. He has played the ball to her court and there is nothing to do now but to wait for some return. The initial euphoria Subha felt, of having made the contact, was dying now. He tried standing casually and a look as if he had no definite purpose, but that, he felt, made him rigid and panicky. A thousand thoughts gathered in his mind... The whole idea of this adventure filled him with a strange enlightenment; it is a game he thought, if you are to play it with the spirit of the game you will not be hurt even if you lose, if however, you win there are prizes to your hearts' content.... Sailo where are you my friend? Help me.
The journey was uneventful except when Deboti had looked his way for some fleeting moments. Their stop came and Subha collected his bag. He had hoped the conversation would go further but Deboti had handed him over his bag without a word. He had mumbled a word of thanks but she seemed not to have heard him. Disembarking from the bus, Subha took to his usual hurried walking. It was then he heard his name called aloud from behind him. Subhankar felt he was on the verge of a triumph and turned to face the hurrying figure behind him. Deboti came up to him while he waited with his heartbeats playing funny games.
“Sorry to call you like this and bother you... but I need some help” she said.
Subhankar would have robbed a bank had she asked him right then to so.
“Yes, tell me what I can do for you?” he replied with his professionalism setting in. After all he was a doctor and he was there to help everyone, he thought.
“I am doing a project on Health and Nutrition and I am yet to find a good medical institute that can help me complete my assignment... You are a Doctor so I thought maybe...”
“Okay I will see if I can place you in
Subha stared at her and felt a sense of despair. He was not a great conversationalist but desperate situations needed desperate measures. Thinking of nothing more to say but the burning need to carry on the conversation, he ventured “This is not very proper; I wish you could come to the hospital and we could sit and talk rather than stand here.”
“No actually I have a class from 10:00 and I must hurry for I am already late” Deboti replied checking her watch which showed it was 10:10 AM. “Oh yes, can I have your mobile number please... you can take down mine it is 94331 07655. I will get in touch regarding the placement... so long.”
Subha wished she could stay a bit longer as she hurried off towards her college. He would immediately seek out the information and let her know about it he thought as he moved towards his own destination. Time seemed to have lost dimension and suddenly he was not feeling the humidity. The skies have started taking a menacing texture and the humidity soared. It would rain, he thought looking at the gathered cloud, and what a perfect day to rain down. He went up to a tea stall and took a seat. His thoughts were in turmoil and the excitement seemed unbearable. The handing of the bag has worked wonders...just like Sailo had guessed it would. Sailo could not have predicted the exact reaction but he was surely very close. He started dialing Sailo... “My God! Sailo you are a genius!! You are a Love Guru! You are a soul reader...” he started.
9:30 PM.
--------
The brainstorming was now over and so was the drizzling that had started around noon. It had been a very animated discussion and had someone chanced to see Subha and Sailo at it, they would have mistaken it as a quarrel. The point of contention was in the uncertainty of the outcome of the whole affair... Sailo was certain that the fire has started at both the ends and they are of the equal intensity while Subha was more pessimistic, perhaps from the ease with which he was able to get the contact details. He had argued that it was just some help that Deboti had wanted and there was no scope of any further conjectures while Sailo had insisted that Deboti had given her number to him for she too was interested, otherwise no girl would give out her contact details to some stranger. Subha wanted to believe the explanation but was not sure whether to take it very seriously. He was losing his interest to think hard for he had hardly slept last couple of days.
“It is a classic example of a person in Love ...” Sailo had quipped. “First you lose sleep because you are in love and you cannot think of anything else. Then you will lose your sleep again when the affair is going steady in the fear of losing her. Finally you will become an insomniac when she leaves you...”
Subha had taken the remark with sufficient humor but he felt the truth behind it. That he could not sleep was true. He only never thought the reason behind it. He had heard of people losing sleep when they fall in love but had never thought it was possible...there was no medical explanation. But it was happening and he cannot deny it. He had even missed his jogging and stretching today and it has happened after almost a whole year. Last time he was down with fever... and now...Love?
“What do you think I should do?” he enquired. “Shall I call her up to let her know that I have arranged the induction to the
“Wait! My dear friend, you are missing the subtle points in the game. The idea is not to show you are head over heels or she might end up on top.” said Sailo with conviction. He was after all a veteran and he knew the human psychology like the back of his hand. It had taken a lot of refusals, a lot of pains to be where he was but it was worth it, he thought, more because he could help his friend out. He was certain that Subha is in luck and the girl has also responded predictably. He knew the importance of waiting in this game and the importance of subtle timings. After all it is just for a few initial days that this game has to be continued. “All will set in perfectly at the end and then there would not be the need for playing it on. Once the making-impression period was over, nothing else matters.”
“When do you think I can call her up?” Subha asked impatiently. “Tomorrow?”
“No. You don't call. It was her need so let her call”
“What if she doesn't?”
“If she doesn't call by tomorrow you SMS her with the news but don't call.” warned Sailo, knowing very well that his friend would not heed this particular warning. “If you call you will hardly have any reason to show...”
“Okay.” Subha nodded. “And what do you think she would do?”
“If I am not very mistaken Subha, she doesn't even need the information you have collected with so much importance.” said Sailo with a twinkle in his eyes. “I am sure that her college seniors would have provided her with ample guidance and she happens to be from one of the best of institutions. Her college would have surely endorsed her with some connections. It is hard to imagine otherwise. Nevertheless, a clever way to get the contact going...don't you see it? She has played her part and well too! All that you have to decide is when to return the ball again for her to plan her next response...”
“You have some imagination! But I am afraid this is just a speculation. On a broader and more general view I think she really wanted my help” reasoned Subha. “I admit that she has acted very unpredictably but then she might have been in dire need for that information. No. No Sailo, I think I should let her know what I have found out.”
“Go ahead then do what you like and spoil it” Sailo tried one last time “if you reply too soon she will know she has you in the bag. You will send her the news but all I advise you is to wait for about 24 hours...just 24”.
Sailo's mother announced that the dinner was ready and they left the discussion at that.
*** 12th August 2005
10:45 PM.
---------
“No news yet” Subha said clutching the handset harder, “Sailo, the situation doesn't seem good does it?”
“Arrey don't let it consume your thoughts...” Sailo said comforting, in the last two days he has always been able to guess what Deboti might do. This was possible for Subha had been a very good observer... they had discussed her every reaction and every expression as Subha had described. It seemed that she really did not want the information after all as he had predicted... Someone in need will always look up all the avenues before giving up and by the lack of communication from her side it seemed she really did not care. “Send her the information tomorrow at around 11:00 AM.”
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Love in August...............(Part 1)
*** 8th August 2005
9:30 AM.
--------
Subhankar was in great distress. Sitting cramped in the small space of the mini bus seat he switched his stance clearly bothered by the lack of leg space in front of him. Those who had only seen him would take him for an ordinary and not so intelligent person. That was how he looked. But that would be a mistake. Subhankar was a fair and was well built. Body building has always been his passion and without a forty minute jogging and stretching in the morning he would be sick. Having completed his MBBS from the Medical College Kolkata last year he was associated with the
It would be difficult to get down negotiating the way through passengers onboard he thought, as he made adjustments to how he sat. There was something else that bothered him very deeply. For the last two weeks he had been trying to engage himself in a conversation with this girl, Deboti, but it always turned out that since the accidental introduction to her two weeks back when he had helped her with some change, she has made up her mind not to look his way or speak to him. Staring two seats ahead of him he made out the slender neck and her neatly tied hair yet again. Her ears were so white and looked so soft that the fashionable earrings seemed too heavy for them. He saw her rise from her seat and knew he should also be doing the same. Getting out after a lot of difficulty and making sure that he stayed just behind Deboti, he made his way to the gate. When he got down at SSKM following Deboti, he deliberately crossed her and kept walking fast till he reached the entrance of the hospital. He was disappointed. He had hoped that somehow Deboti would call him and they would talk about... what? He did not know but he wished she would call him. Deboti did not call. He watched as he entered the hospital gates, Deboti kept on walking and then crossing the street went in her college Gokhale. Enough is enough; he decided to consult Sailen that evening.
7:40 PM.
--------
“What do you mean you cannot muster courage?” Sailen was saying with a look of disbelief. “You perform all the dangerous operations everyday, you take all tough decisions concerning the life and death of your patients everyday and you tell me you are afraid?”
Sensing the touch of incredulity in his voice Subhankar could not help but make a sorry face and a gesture of helplessness. The idea of walking up to Deboti in a packed bus and taking the initiative to request her to hold his bag was too much, thought Subhankar. The idea had some purpose but the cat needs to be belled before the reactions could be judged. Cutting up corpses or treating a third degree burn patient seemed far more comforting. “No, I am really helpless Sailo... I would surely make a blunder of things and perhaps there is no use...”
“Then it is over, thank God! You don't really want to talk to Deboti and take your acquaintance to another level...” Sailen cut in “If you want something really bad then you should not let your ego get on top of you... rather ease yourself and be positive... I am not advising you to give up your self respect but be a little bold for 'No risk no gain'” he remarked with a wink.
“What do you think she would do?” Subhankar asked.
“Look Subha, this is no algebra that you can equate, it is real life. You may predict something but things might not go that way. You can never know what the other person might be thinking by not knowing the person at all.... even if you know the person for a long time it hardly will give you any clue ... at the most you might just predict from your experiences. You cannot expect her to just understand you and accept you as the introvert you are.” started Sailen, “About the options she has, she can a) refuse to hold your bag... b)Ignore you or c) hold your bag. The worst is if she refuses and the best is that she holds your bag. You would have then made what it is technically called your 'Contact'. If everything goes fine then you could extend your conversations in bits and pieces like isn't it very hot today? And the sorts...Surely she would not be so reserved that she would not talk”
“What do you mean introvert?” Subhankar fumed “and what if she decided to go fuzzy?”
*** 11th August 2005
10:20 AM.
---------
“My God! Sailo you are a genius!! You are a Love Guru! You are a soul reader...”
Sailo had to literally cut short Subha on the phone “...Thank you Subha... Yes but.... STOP. Will you PLEASE tell me why you are acting this way?”
“I did as we planned... I boarded the bus and saw her sitting and walked straight up to her and handed her my bag.” Subha said in a single breath, obviously enjoying the effect of the words on Sailo, for his voice carried that savoring, that suspense a person might show when he is very excited.
“What happened then?” Sailo asked, “Surely Deboti had thrown the bag out of the window?”
“Stop bugging and listen, will you?” Subha's voice sounded hurt. “She asked for my mobile number...”
“What! What have you done my dear friend! She asked for your mobile number on your first real meet?!!...”
“Actually she wanted some help from me... She knew from our brief introduction that I was a doctor. She wanted me to help her get through in some reputed hospital for a project she is doing on Nutrition and Health...”
“Oh!”
“No, no listen, this is not the end of it...” continued Subha hurriedly, “we talked for about FIVE minutes...”
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