Good things happen to good people, bad things also happen to good people, but weird things happen to people like me, who are mostly good with being occasionally bad. Confused? Well, after all that has happened to me, even I am caught in a similar imbroglio. Even I am not able to decide, why, of all the people, all this has to happen to me? I think I have aroused a lot of curiosity as to what has actually happened to me. (Mission accomplished! If you are not confused, read above lines a hundred times and convince yourself that you are confused, even if you are not, before starting the next section). Let me get to the details now.
I had my interview for admission into MBA on the on which day all this happened. The night before I had neatly pressed my trousers, my tie and the shoes were ready. My shirt was to be pressed by a local laundry person and he had promised an early morning delivery. I was pleased with my preparation. I did some spiritual reading on the internet before I went to bed that night in the company guest house in Mumbai. Early morning, I was awoken by a loud thumping on my door. I got up and checked the alarm clock by my side; it was 6:00 in the morning, I had still half an hour more to sleep according to my plan. Lazily, I dragged myself to the door only to find the laundry person smiling, stretching his lips so wide that my cheeks ached. I took the shirt and sleepily put it along with my other interview stuff and went off to sleep.
A loud shrill propelled me out of my bed like a ball bouncing off the ground. I quickly tried to suffocate the alarm clock but my hands were fumbling all over it to find the correct switch. I heaved a huge sigh once it was put off. I smiled to myself generously to congratulate myself for the great achievement. I had a quick shower, put on the neatly pressed clothes and my shoes. I was ready by 7:00. I was supposed to reach the venue by 8:00. All was going according to the plan. I looked at myself in the mirror, turned left, turned right and then center. Everything was perfect.
I reached the local station at 7: 10, took the fast local to Andheri and reached the venue at exactly 7:50 with ten minutes to spare. I went inside and found many other people waiting to be called in. At 8:00 sharp, we were called in. Our names were called one by one and we were divided into groups of 12 for the group discussion. When my name was called, I went and joined my group which was followed by a lot of (twelve, to be precise) hellos-best of lucks-let’s rock the GDs. We were asked to keep pen and paper handy, that’s when I realized that my pen was in my bag and not in my pocket.
I took out the pen and placed it in my pocket. Somebody tapped my shoulder; I turned around to see a fellow from my group handing over a pen which looked so much like my pen which I had just put in my pocket. I looked harder and was surprised to see that it was my pen. I thanked him and put it back in my pocket. I felt a tickle run down on the left side of my tummy and something landing on the floor near my neatly polished shoes. I bent down to see my pen lying down helplessly. I looked down my left breast pocket. I widened my eyes through my spectacles which were probably looking like marbles popping out of a magnifying glass. There was a huge slit underneath the breast pocket which I probably was not able to see in the mirror because my hand was covering it.
I quickly rushed to the wash room. I stood in front of the mirror and raised my left hand straight over my head to have a proper look at the newly constructed ventilator on my shirt. It was more than just a slit, it was a huge hole! It did not take much time for me to realize who had done this. I could now properly recall the laundry guy’s face and his I-did-it-but-you-dint-see-it smile. I was furious. I wanted to strangle that fellow’s neck using his own elongated smile. This was my last chance of getting into a decent B-School. I had screwed up all other GDs or interviews or both. I was well equipped this time with adequate preparation. I looked at the frowning reflection of my face. It was looking funny actually; I never had seen myself so thoroughly frustrated.
I started thinking of the alternatives. All I could come up with was going out and buying a new shirt. Yes, that was the only way out. I clumsily washed my face and dried it with the paper napkins and literally ran out of the washroom. People were staring at me as if they had never seen a human before. I ignored the stares and went towards my batch all of whom were waiting outside the interview room. I learnt from them that the group discussion was to begin in 5 minutes. My heart skipped a beat. There was no way I could go out and come back with a new shirt in five minutes. I decided to stay back and manage the discussion like how I had managed to admire myself in the mirror that morning.
Five minutes passed. No one came out of the room to call us in. One of the restless fellow participants went in only to be sent out and was asked to come in after five more minutes. Another five minutes passed. No communication from the people inside the room. I was getting curious, had they gone asleep? I could have bet on 10 minutes to get a new shirt. It was Andheri after all and I could have easily found a street vendor even at this early hour. Another five minutes passed. Still there was no sign of anything taking place! The people inside were supposed to be mentoring us in future for management studies, I hoped they would take a quick course on time management. Fifteen minutes were definitely more than adequate to buy a shirt in Mumbai. This was getting on my nerves now. I could bear it no more. I stood up so violently that I heard a crack from beneath me. I bent down to see that the left side of my trouser, from the knee to just above the shoe, was ripped apart by a confident looking nail which was protruding out of the chair as if to check out the outer weather. As I looked at the culprit, the evil nail, it shone as the sun rays from the window fell on to it and gleamed proudly at me.
I was doomed. I sat down on the unfortunate chair and cupped my hands around my head. I was more disappointed with my misfortune than angry at everything around me. At this very instant, a professor came out of the interview room, apologized for the delay, gave us the first lessons on patience and called us in. I reluctantly got up from my seat and assured myself that nothing worse can happen to me. I told myself that I should leave everything to fate and prayed to god that the professors don’t notice the discrepancy in my attire.
I was the sixth person among the group of twelve. On other occasions, I couldn’t have been happier for being allotted a number which will put me in focus in the group discussion, putting me right in the center of the group. But today, when I wanted to be as inconspicuous as possible, I was thrown right in the center of the group. The assurance that I given to myself a few minutes ago faded away completely and I realized that worse times are ahead.
We went in and I sat in the center. The hole under my arm, I could cover somehow but what will I do about the trouser rip? This was the only thing running in my mind, even when the topic was announced and others started jotting down points. I entwined my left leg around the leg of the chair and put my arm at such an angle such that I covered the shirt-hole. If anyone would have looked at me adjusting like that, they would have definitely concluded that I was either a retard or a cripple. The discussion began. I somehow managed to say a couple of points and thankfully, those points were taken well by the group. This, in spite of my awkward sitting position.
We were asked to conclude the GD. I raised my left hand to make a point and that’s when I realized what I had just done. People on the left side of the group first were left agape and then I saw the twinkle in their eyes, the silent laughter. I had become a joke which all of them would go home, to their friends, narrate and have a hearty laugh. I quickly lowered my arm and continued talking. The GD finally came to an end after a long 15 minutes which were no less than eternity for me. “Now you may go out and wait for your turn of the interview. Each of you will be called number wise, starting with number 1. You may come inside after five minutes. Thank you”, the professor announced.
The famous five minutes, I thought, as we were coming out of the room. I was thinking of various alternatives for managing the interview. I escaped the group discussion somehow but in interview everything would be noticed. I have to act fast. I heard a few giggles from the corner. I forest fire was spreading. The girl sitting beside me was giggling with her friends mocking at me, raising her right arm. I felt like correcting her, it is not the right arm Madam, it is the left arm, but rightfully decided against it. I had already made enough fool of myself.
The fellow participant, numbered one, was called in for the interview. They had finally learnt that each minute has only sixty seconds; I mused and tried to amuse myself but I was too worried to even smile. He came out after 10 minutes. Everybody flocked around him to ask him the questions that were asked. He answered patiently and left. I immediately got an idea. I prayed to god that this idea would work out and He come and help me out with the implementation of this idea. Even otherwise, any person who would have helped me would be no less than God himself to me. I followed “number-one” and called him from behind. He turned around and waited. I ran up to him and made a weird request. He smiled first; I was sure that actually wanted to laugh, then apologized and said that he has to go for work and cannot stay back any longer. That’s a polite way of denial, I thought. I was dejected. There was some hope which seemed to be dying out too.
I decided not to give up. The second person came out and I made the same weird request to him too. He too declined. Three more rays of hope, I counted. I was eagerly waiting for the third person to come out. The third person was a girl. I had not thought of this possibility, just two rays of hope had left now. The next person, Number-four, took extremely less time to come out and surprisingly no one flocked towards him to ask any questions. They probably considered that he might not have performed well and that his feedback wouldn’t be useful. He was of the same height and build as me, I noticed. I had to make the kill now.
I approached him and talked to him very carefully “Look mate, I don’t want to embarrass you or anything but I am currently in deep trouble. I have to make this weird request to you and you are my only source of hope as the next person to be called in for the interview is I. I want you to lend me your shirt and trouser for the time this interview lasts. We could go to the washroom and change, exchange would be a better word, our clothes. I will return them as soon as I finish my interview. We have to be quick as I have just another five minutes left. Will you help me? Please don’t say No!”
He dint smile or suppress a laugh, as others had. He plainly agreed. I was more than elated. I thanked him profusely and we almost ran into the washroom. We changed and I asked him to wait outside the interview room. He said he preferred not coming out of the washroom in the torn shirt and trousers, and asked me to return to the washroom when I was done. I grinned, completely having understood his situation; I thanked him again and ran towards the interview room.
As I was approaching the interview room, I saw that a person was flocked by many fellow participants, the usual feedback session. I over heard them saying “Your interview lasted for the longest time. I am sure you will be through”. I peeped through the flock to check who the person they were talking to was, so that I knew whether it was my turn. I was stunned and dumbfounded. It was the same person who I had just exchanged clothes with, Number-Four. I ran back towards the washroom but found no one inside there. I searched in the corridor but he was to be seen nowhere. He had disappeared.
“There comes a time in facing a challenge when we have done all that we can, and still the situation remains unresolved. This is the time to turn the problem over and release our cares into His hands. When we let the Him take charge, anything becomes possible. He can do for us what we could not do for ourselves. Do your best and leave to God the rest” I was trying to recollect the rest of the text which I had read on the internet the previous night. I heard someone call out for me. “Number-Six, this is the last time I am calling the candidate for the interview else we will have to move on to Number-Seven....”
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Friday, April 25, 2008
If I die today...
I punched my employee I.D, I produced my finger and beep, the biometric system yelled. I was free to go home. I ran down the stairs fumbling with the entangled ear phones of my i-pod and finally managing to plug them into my ears. Avril Lavigne started softly whispering in my ears, I m waiting in the dark....I'm listening but there’s no sound....,My eyes were searching for a blue pulsar; I was not able to recollect where I had parked it in the morning. It was at the extreme right and I felt laziness creep through me for having to walk all the way till that point. I shook it off, quite literally and got on to my bike after putting on my head gear.
I started off my 30 minute long ride back home. I turned left from the main gate towards the down slope which led me towards The Secret Lake. I often wondered why it was called so, never bothered to find out though. I was riding at around 60 kmph, a normal speed on this road as it was generally empty at this time. It all happened in a flash. Another bike was traveling with approximately same or even more speed towards me. I immediately pressed the brakes so hard that my feet and my hands ached. The otherwise silent road was filled with screeching sound of the brakes. My bike came to halt just a few centimeters away from the other fellow’s bike. My heart was pounding like a hammer mill and Avril Lavigne was now crooning into my ears asking me
“Is it enough to love?
Is it enough to breath?
Somebody rip my heart out
And leave me here to bleed”
I found it very situational and smiled. The other biker didn’t find it funny at all and started mumbling something, obviously expletives. I couldn’t hear a single word, grinned sheepishly and rode off without any apology. I didn’t even know whether I owed an apology. I didn’t care either.
I continued my journey back home when this thought struck the deep dark corners of infinitely entangled nerves of my brain: What if I die today? Really, what if I die today?
I found this idea amusing. I was extremely tired more because of the scorching summer heat than because of the office work. This thought was very refreshing. I took a right turn and joined the main traffic. I saw numerous buses, heavy vehicles, cars, bikes over take me or come towards me in the opposite direction. What if one of them hits me so hard that I die today, now, at this very instant? What would happen to me? How would people around me react?
At this very instant, the song changed in my i-pod and it was Jagjit Singh now questioning and advising me about life:
Zindagi kya hai jaan ne ke liye ,
Zinda rehna bahut zaroori hai,
Aaj tak koi bhi raha tho nahi
This was more than just coincidence. How did the i-pod know what I was thinking of or what I was going through? How did it manage to play just the apt songs? This was a sign. I was somehow convinced that I will die on my way home. Was I scared? I thought about it. I wasn’t scared. Definitely not scared. I don’t know what it was but I was in a strange state of mind. Everything around me seemed to moving at a slower pace and smoothly. I was drifting. I was closer to death. And, I was not scared.
If I die today, I would take with me the sense of accomplishment that I was capable of getting into one of the best management colleges in the country. It would make someone on the waitlist move ahead and land in his dream institute. I felt happy for that person.
If I die today, my sister would be completely devastated. She would come running towards me and hug me. But I know she is strong, she has seen a lot in life. She would be able to manage. She would take charge and make sure everything goes on smoothly. I felt proud.
If I die today, my brother would be heart broken. He would immediately come to Hyderabad taking the earliest available flight. He hasn’t seen me for more than a year now and he would be terribly upset. But time would set things right. I felt sad for him.
If I die today, my best friends would get a shock of their life. They would cry profusely. It would be too bad for them to believe it. It would be a one of the greatest losses for them. But life would have to go on. Friends, who owed me, would not have to give it back to me. They would go ahead and lead their lives anyway. It felt good.
If I die today, I would leave with a sense of incompleteness. The project at the office would remain pending. My job would remain half done. My team would feel a good deal of loss. But, I was leaving after a couple of months anyway. They would find a replacement. I didn’t bother.
If I die today, the insurance company would not be very happy. They will have to pay the money that I did not even pay completely. I still have a couple of premiums to pay. It did not matter. It would not make a huge difference to my family anyway.
All these thoughts in various permutations started swirling through my mind. I felt dizzy. I was in a trance. I thought of all the things that would happen if that-which-should-not-happen happened today. My thoughts slowly traveled up the ladder of my mind but suddenly slipped down to my heart. And, that’s when I thought of the most important person in my life, my mother. She was waiting for me to return home. What would happen when she comes to know of the news? The very thought of her reaction gave me goose bumps. I had a lump in my throat. I wasn’t even sure if she would be able to bear the news. My brother was not around. My sister was also not around. She was all alone at home probably watching some serial on the television. She will not be able to it. She will definitely not be able to take it.
I shook myself to reality. I was now at the signal waiting for the green signal to permit me to go home to my mother. I decided that I will not die today. I will not die today because I have to live so that the most important person of my life lives. The signal turned green and I was just 5 minutes away from home. I rode on
I reached our apartment, took the lift to the fourth floor, inserted the key into the door and opened the door to find my mother happily lying on the bed watching her favorite serial. I smiled to myself. I took off my shoes and my bag. I went and snuggled beside my mother, wrapped my arms around her and hugged her tight. Without even asking me any strange questions, she hugged me back, started patting on my back and massaging my head. At that moment, I realized that I had made a very wise decision and was elated that I chose not to die today.
I started off my 30 minute long ride back home. I turned left from the main gate towards the down slope which led me towards The Secret Lake. I often wondered why it was called so, never bothered to find out though. I was riding at around 60 kmph, a normal speed on this road as it was generally empty at this time. It all happened in a flash. Another bike was traveling with approximately same or even more speed towards me. I immediately pressed the brakes so hard that my feet and my hands ached. The otherwise silent road was filled with screeching sound of the brakes. My bike came to halt just a few centimeters away from the other fellow’s bike. My heart was pounding like a hammer mill and Avril Lavigne was now crooning into my ears asking me
“Is it enough to love?
Is it enough to breath?
Somebody rip my heart out
And leave me here to bleed”
I found it very situational and smiled. The other biker didn’t find it funny at all and started mumbling something, obviously expletives. I couldn’t hear a single word, grinned sheepishly and rode off without any apology. I didn’t even know whether I owed an apology. I didn’t care either.
I continued my journey back home when this thought struck the deep dark corners of infinitely entangled nerves of my brain: What if I die today? Really, what if I die today?
I found this idea amusing. I was extremely tired more because of the scorching summer heat than because of the office work. This thought was very refreshing. I took a right turn and joined the main traffic. I saw numerous buses, heavy vehicles, cars, bikes over take me or come towards me in the opposite direction. What if one of them hits me so hard that I die today, now, at this very instant? What would happen to me? How would people around me react?
At this very instant, the song changed in my i-pod and it was Jagjit Singh now questioning and advising me about life:
Zindagi kya hai jaan ne ke liye ,
Zinda rehna bahut zaroori hai,
Aaj tak koi bhi raha tho nahi
This was more than just coincidence. How did the i-pod know what I was thinking of or what I was going through? How did it manage to play just the apt songs? This was a sign. I was somehow convinced that I will die on my way home. Was I scared? I thought about it. I wasn’t scared. Definitely not scared. I don’t know what it was but I was in a strange state of mind. Everything around me seemed to moving at a slower pace and smoothly. I was drifting. I was closer to death. And, I was not scared.
If I die today, I would take with me the sense of accomplishment that I was capable of getting into one of the best management colleges in the country. It would make someone on the waitlist move ahead and land in his dream institute. I felt happy for that person.
If I die today, my sister would be completely devastated. She would come running towards me and hug me. But I know she is strong, she has seen a lot in life. She would be able to manage. She would take charge and make sure everything goes on smoothly. I felt proud.
If I die today, my brother would be heart broken. He would immediately come to Hyderabad taking the earliest available flight. He hasn’t seen me for more than a year now and he would be terribly upset. But time would set things right. I felt sad for him.
If I die today, my best friends would get a shock of their life. They would cry profusely. It would be too bad for them to believe it. It would be a one of the greatest losses for them. But life would have to go on. Friends, who owed me, would not have to give it back to me. They would go ahead and lead their lives anyway. It felt good.
If I die today, I would leave with a sense of incompleteness. The project at the office would remain pending. My job would remain half done. My team would feel a good deal of loss. But, I was leaving after a couple of months anyway. They would find a replacement. I didn’t bother.
If I die today, the insurance company would not be very happy. They will have to pay the money that I did not even pay completely. I still have a couple of premiums to pay. It did not matter. It would not make a huge difference to my family anyway.
All these thoughts in various permutations started swirling through my mind. I felt dizzy. I was in a trance. I thought of all the things that would happen if that-which-should-not-happen happened today. My thoughts slowly traveled up the ladder of my mind but suddenly slipped down to my heart. And, that’s when I thought of the most important person in my life, my mother. She was waiting for me to return home. What would happen when she comes to know of the news? The very thought of her reaction gave me goose bumps. I had a lump in my throat. I wasn’t even sure if she would be able to bear the news. My brother was not around. My sister was also not around. She was all alone at home probably watching some serial on the television. She will not be able to it. She will definitely not be able to take it.
I shook myself to reality. I was now at the signal waiting for the green signal to permit me to go home to my mother. I decided that I will not die today. I will not die today because I have to live so that the most important person of my life lives. The signal turned green and I was just 5 minutes away from home. I rode on
I reached our apartment, took the lift to the fourth floor, inserted the key into the door and opened the door to find my mother happily lying on the bed watching her favorite serial. I smiled to myself. I took off my shoes and my bag. I went and snuggled beside my mother, wrapped my arms around her and hugged her tight. Without even asking me any strange questions, she hugged me back, started patting on my back and massaging my head. At that moment, I realized that I had made a very wise decision and was elated that I chose not to die today.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Beware: White Dust Men Ahead!
“Hey! Watch your step!” She shouted from behind me. But, it was too late. I stepped on to a tiny round stone which was not interested in bearing my weight and quickly slipped away when I placed my right foot on it. Thud! Poor earth had to bear a product of 80 kilos and acceleration, with which I fell onto the ground, which I surmise must have been definitely greater than acceleration due to gravity. I heard a roar of laughter behind me and I couldn’t help but smile. I had always enjoyed adventurous sports such as Rappelling, Trekking, Rock climbing. So here I was, trying to cope up with the arduous climb of Sinhagadh in Pune despite my weight and failing (read falling) on many occasions – the woes of becoming healthier!
We were three of us: Bhakti, Sulu and I. Both of them first gasped and inquired about my safety when I had fallen down for the first time, but afterwards it became their food for laughter. I am sure they had expended more energy in laughing at my free falls than what I had in actually falling. I had thought that even I will get a chance to laugh at their “descents”, however, either they were extremely perfect in climbing or they were just lucky enough not to fall and made sure that my “evil” wish remained just that, a wish!
I was the fattest/heaviest/tallest among the lot. Bhakti was tiny and light as a feather, although she had her own problems to cope up with. For instance, her phone wouldn’t stop ringing and she had to answer all the calls. She had to take pictures; after all she had borrowed a friend’s phone especially for this. She had to sit down and repair her bag, which for some reason didn’t cooperate with her during the climb and always snapped at every other step. I don’t blame the bag; it was less of a hand bag and more of a luggage bag. She had stuffed in it a jacket, a sweater and a bottle among other items already present in the bag which had bloated the bag from every angle.
Sulu wasn’t very heavy either. I cannot call her light though. Oh yes, she had her unique set of issues at hand. She had to carry a back-sack which contained “important documents”. The bag was heavy and was making her climb a little less easy. But she had to finish off the entire trekking by 4:30 PM or earlier as she had an appointment with someone. Even after discussions at length, I still haven’t been able to figure out what exactly she wanted to do that day. So, she was sprinting like a deer and was the fastest among us.
Although the plan was to start at 7 early in the morning, we ended up starting at 8:15 from home. That was still alright because there have been times when I have started 3 or 4 hours later than the scheduled time. So, I was happy but Sulu was not, for obvious reasons. On our way to the foothill we stopped by to have some breakfast. I was really hungry, which is not unusual at all because most of the times I am hungry. But this time I was very hungry. So we stopped by a street vendor near the Khadakwaasla Lake. The view was breathtakingly beautiful. It was pretty cold with the temperature around 7-8 degrees and the water was pretty clean. Not many people were around. We ordered for Wada Pav and some onion pakodas (we didn’t have a choice actually; the street vendor had only these two items with him). The pakodas were very oily and we couldn’t finish them off. We then were having tea when the vendor started narrating a weird story to us.
We did not know the verity of that story; however, he told it in such a convincing way that we were forced to believe him. Besides, he couldn’t have gained anything by telling us false anecdotes. He told us about incidents which were taking place on that particular road on which we were standing and having tea. “There are two middle aged guys who have become very unpopular these days. They are known to hypnotize people and steal their valuables. They have a white powdery substance with them which they blow on to the victim’s face after which the victim does whatever he is asked to do. Like a recent incident in which a woman was found at the highway, with all her jewels and money stolen, unscathed and having no idea what she was doing there on the highway”
“This must have happened sometime in the night hours” I said. It was less of a statement and more of a question.
“No Sir. This happened in the broad daylight. Around noon” he replied.
This frightened us a little bit. However, we were determined to go trekking that day and no such story could have deterred us from doing so. So, we finished our morning snacks and paid the person.
“Be careful Sir. Do not get friendly or close to any one” he warned us from behind just when I was about to start my bike.
“Don’t worry! We will take care. Thank you” It was more a consolation to myself than a reply to him.
So, we started off from there and reached the foothill by 9 and started our arduous climb. We had just started when I paid my first respects to mother earth. Thud! It was pretty cold in the morning when we had started from home but the mercury, probably to show off that she was the only liquid metal, wouldn’t stop expanding at all. As a result of mercury’s ostentatious display of her properties, the temperature soared and we were soon stripped off our jackets, now firmly tied around our waists (except for Bhakti’s, it went into her handbag, of course). I hadn’t gone trekking earlier, so I was extremely enthusiastic about the climb that day, despite the falls.
We climbed for about half an hour and looked down. “Not bad! We have done quite well. We are pretty high already. At this rate, we should be up pretty soon.” I remarked.
“Don’t be so sure of yourself Dada. Initially, everyone says that but as we go higher the climb becomes steeper and takes longer” warned Bhakti. I had to trust her. She was the most experienced person amongst us, although she was the youngest amongst as well. She had been to the hill almost seven times. Back at home, everyone mocked at her saying she should become the brand ambassador of Sinhagadh. If she goes there one more time, she will be titled the Sinhagadh Queen. Poor Bhakti! She was so sick of Sinhagadh that she made a vow to herself that she would never return here again. Little did she know then what she said would become reality and she actually would never dare to return after what was about to happen to the three of us.
We decided to hurry up. We hurried up. We tried to climb as fast as possible. But they were just a few meters away. Sulu looked up the hill and then cast her eyes down the hill. No one was in sight other than the two men. It was getting warmer. Sulu was almost running. I was not very far from her but, Bhakti was so bored, tired, irritated that she was climbing at snail’s pace. I was sure that if conducted a race there with her and a snail as the only participants, the snail would have won and by a great margin that. I imagined handing over the winning shield to the snail and it holding the shield the waving to cheering crowd, which of course consisted of Sulu and me. I gave out a hearty laugh. Sulu turned around “What happened?” she enquired.
“Nothing at all. I will let you know later” I replied somehow expecting that Sulu will not like the joke.
We waited for Bhakti to catch up. We couldn’t do anything but wait for her every five minutes of climb. The men we together now. They were one party after all and the party was just a few yards away from us. We could see them clearly now. The taller person was wearing glasses and smoking a cigarette. I decided to wait until they went ahead of us. They were only two and we were three. They cannot possibly do any harm, I had thought. And, that’s when the three of us sat down finding the most comfortable rocks to rest our bums on.
While we were sitting, I chalked out a plan. I told both Sulu and Bhakti “Look, there’s nothing to get scared of. We are three in number they are just two. We will wait here and wait till they go ahead of us. If they come closer to us, we will still wait. But if the taller person directs his hand towards his bag, we hit them with whatever comes to our hand and run down as fast as we can. First Bhakti you will start running, followed by you Sulu and finally me. Is everything clear?”
Both of them nodded nervously. Probably they were not very convinced with my plan but since they could not come up with anything else, they agreed!
The two men came closer. As they were approaching, the taller of the men smoked the butt of his cigarette for a last time and crushed it under his feet, all the while looking at us. My eyes never left his. He then slowly started moving towards us. I thought of clutching a small rock or something and ran my hand around aimlessly, but I couldn’t find anything small enough to carry and big enough to hit the person. He came directly towards me. He put his hand inside the bag he was carrying searching for something. That was it. I could not wait any longer. I hinted at Sulu and both of us were ready. Bhakti immediately started her downward descent. As I expected, we took the men by surprise. Although the stones were small they were pretty effective. The one that I picked up hit the person on his right temple and he immediately clutched his forehead swearing something in Marathi. Sulu, in the mean while had already hit the smaller man with a stick, now where on earth did she find one? He also immediately collapsed on the ground with a hand on the center of his head. I pushed the taller person I had hit so that he fell on the ground. We began running down as fast as we could. After running for about 5 minutes, I turned back to look at our prospective attackers, they were both still sitting there washing their wounds, I guessed. I smiled in triumph. My plan was successful.
Huff puff! We all finally were back near the parking area where we had parked our vehicles. The two men were not to be seen anywhere. We were sure they had not followed us down. I hoped that at least this incident would teach them a lesson and think twice before using that “white-dust” again on any person. We were all very happy and we were smiling and laughing. We decided to hurry up and leave soon as we did not want to risk running into that pair of men again. But I was thirsty, all of us were thirsty. I went to a near by stall and asked for a mineral water bottle. That’s when I noticed something on the wall behind the man. My eyes widened. I stared at the wall in disbelief. This was not possible! This was just not possible! I was not prepared for this.
I had paid the person and he was counting his change back. But I just could not wait anymore. I ran towards Sulu and Bhakti and asked them to hurry up. The man was asking me to take back the money. I could not hear anything. The only things that were flashing in my mind were the photos that were hung on the wall in the stall. They were the photos of the two men we had seen: The White-Dust Men. The only difference was that the photos had garlands over them. We started our bikes and left.
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BACK AT THE FOOTHILL OF SINHAGADH:
After sometime a woman comes out of the house adjoining the stall. She sees the two photographs with garlands on them hung on the wall. She gives out a sigh, “Who put these garlands here? I am sure it must be Papa. I had asked him to put these garlands on the photos of Lord Krishna and Lord Ganesh. Papa is losing his vision day after day. Hari, are you listening? We must take Papa to a doctor as soon as possible. Today he has ‘killed’ our living children, tomorrow he will put the garlands on your and my photos.” She sighs again, removes the garlands and adorns them on the ‘correct’ photos and goes back inside.
We were three of us: Bhakti, Sulu and I. Both of them first gasped and inquired about my safety when I had fallen down for the first time, but afterwards it became their food for laughter. I am sure they had expended more energy in laughing at my free falls than what I had in actually falling. I had thought that even I will get a chance to laugh at their “descents”, however, either they were extremely perfect in climbing or they were just lucky enough not to fall and made sure that my “evil” wish remained just that, a wish!
I was the fattest/heaviest/tallest among the lot. Bhakti was tiny and light as a feather, although she had her own problems to cope up with. For instance, her phone wouldn’t stop ringing and she had to answer all the calls. She had to take pictures; after all she had borrowed a friend’s phone especially for this. She had to sit down and repair her bag, which for some reason didn’t cooperate with her during the climb and always snapped at every other step. I don’t blame the bag; it was less of a hand bag and more of a luggage bag. She had stuffed in it a jacket, a sweater and a bottle among other items already present in the bag which had bloated the bag from every angle.
Sulu wasn’t very heavy either. I cannot call her light though. Oh yes, she had her unique set of issues at hand. She had to carry a back-sack which contained “important documents”. The bag was heavy and was making her climb a little less easy. But she had to finish off the entire trekking by 4:30 PM or earlier as she had an appointment with someone. Even after discussions at length, I still haven’t been able to figure out what exactly she wanted to do that day. So, she was sprinting like a deer and was the fastest among us.
Although the plan was to start at 7 early in the morning, we ended up starting at 8:15 from home. That was still alright because there have been times when I have started 3 or 4 hours later than the scheduled time. So, I was happy but Sulu was not, for obvious reasons. On our way to the foothill we stopped by to have some breakfast. I was really hungry, which is not unusual at all because most of the times I am hungry. But this time I was very hungry. So we stopped by a street vendor near the Khadakwaasla Lake. The view was breathtakingly beautiful. It was pretty cold with the temperature around 7-8 degrees and the water was pretty clean. Not many people were around. We ordered for Wada Pav and some onion pakodas (we didn’t have a choice actually; the street vendor had only these two items with him). The pakodas were very oily and we couldn’t finish them off. We then were having tea when the vendor started narrating a weird story to us.
We did not know the verity of that story; however, he told it in such a convincing way that we were forced to believe him. Besides, he couldn’t have gained anything by telling us false anecdotes. He told us about incidents which were taking place on that particular road on which we were standing and having tea. “There are two middle aged guys who have become very unpopular these days. They are known to hypnotize people and steal their valuables. They have a white powdery substance with them which they blow on to the victim’s face after which the victim does whatever he is asked to do. Like a recent incident in which a woman was found at the highway, with all her jewels and money stolen, unscathed and having no idea what she was doing there on the highway”
“This must have happened sometime in the night hours” I said. It was less of a statement and more of a question.
“No Sir. This happened in the broad daylight. Around noon” he replied.
This frightened us a little bit. However, we were determined to go trekking that day and no such story could have deterred us from doing so. So, we finished our morning snacks and paid the person.
“Be careful Sir. Do not get friendly or close to any one” he warned us from behind just when I was about to start my bike.
“Don’t worry! We will take care. Thank you” It was more a consolation to myself than a reply to him.
So, we started off from there and reached the foothill by 9 and started our arduous climb. We had just started when I paid my first respects to mother earth. Thud! It was pretty cold in the morning when we had started from home but the mercury, probably to show off that she was the only liquid metal, wouldn’t stop expanding at all. As a result of mercury’s ostentatious display of her properties, the temperature soared and we were soon stripped off our jackets, now firmly tied around our waists (except for Bhakti’s, it went into her handbag, of course). I hadn’t gone trekking earlier, so I was extremely enthusiastic about the climb that day, despite the falls.
We climbed for about half an hour and looked down. “Not bad! We have done quite well. We are pretty high already. At this rate, we should be up pretty soon.” I remarked.
“Don’t be so sure of yourself Dada. Initially, everyone says that but as we go higher the climb becomes steeper and takes longer” warned Bhakti. I had to trust her. She was the most experienced person amongst us, although she was the youngest amongst as well. She had been to the hill almost seven times. Back at home, everyone mocked at her saying she should become the brand ambassador of Sinhagadh. If she goes there one more time, she will be titled the Sinhagadh Queen. Poor Bhakti! She was so sick of Sinhagadh that she made a vow to herself that she would never return here again. Little did she know then what she said would become reality and she actually would never dare to return after what was about to happen to the three of us.
We decided to hurry up. We hurried up. We tried to climb as fast as possible. But they were just a few meters away. Sulu looked up the hill and then cast her eyes down the hill. No one was in sight other than the two men. It was getting warmer. Sulu was almost running. I was not very far from her but, Bhakti was so bored, tired, irritated that she was climbing at snail’s pace. I was sure that if conducted a race there with her and a snail as the only participants, the snail would have won and by a great margin that. I imagined handing over the winning shield to the snail and it holding the shield the waving to cheering crowd, which of course consisted of Sulu and me. I gave out a hearty laugh. Sulu turned around “What happened?” she enquired.
“Nothing at all. I will let you know later” I replied somehow expecting that Sulu will not like the joke.
We waited for Bhakti to catch up. We couldn’t do anything but wait for her every five minutes of climb. The men we together now. They were one party after all and the party was just a few yards away from us. We could see them clearly now. The taller person was wearing glasses and smoking a cigarette. I decided to wait until they went ahead of us. They were only two and we were three. They cannot possibly do any harm, I had thought. And, that’s when the three of us sat down finding the most comfortable rocks to rest our bums on.
While we were sitting, I chalked out a plan. I told both Sulu and Bhakti “Look, there’s nothing to get scared of. We are three in number they are just two. We will wait here and wait till they go ahead of us. If they come closer to us, we will still wait. But if the taller person directs his hand towards his bag, we hit them with whatever comes to our hand and run down as fast as we can. First Bhakti you will start running, followed by you Sulu and finally me. Is everything clear?”
Both of them nodded nervously. Probably they were not very convinced with my plan but since they could not come up with anything else, they agreed!
The two men came closer. As they were approaching, the taller of the men smoked the butt of his cigarette for a last time and crushed it under his feet, all the while looking at us. My eyes never left his. He then slowly started moving towards us. I thought of clutching a small rock or something and ran my hand around aimlessly, but I couldn’t find anything small enough to carry and big enough to hit the person. He came directly towards me. He put his hand inside the bag he was carrying searching for something. That was it. I could not wait any longer. I hinted at Sulu and both of us were ready. Bhakti immediately started her downward descent. As I expected, we took the men by surprise. Although the stones were small they were pretty effective. The one that I picked up hit the person on his right temple and he immediately clutched his forehead swearing something in Marathi. Sulu, in the mean while had already hit the smaller man with a stick, now where on earth did she find one? He also immediately collapsed on the ground with a hand on the center of his head. I pushed the taller person I had hit so that he fell on the ground. We began running down as fast as we could. After running for about 5 minutes, I turned back to look at our prospective attackers, they were both still sitting there washing their wounds, I guessed. I smiled in triumph. My plan was successful.
Huff puff! We all finally were back near the parking area where we had parked our vehicles. The two men were not to be seen anywhere. We were sure they had not followed us down. I hoped that at least this incident would teach them a lesson and think twice before using that “white-dust” again on any person. We were all very happy and we were smiling and laughing. We decided to hurry up and leave soon as we did not want to risk running into that pair of men again. But I was thirsty, all of us were thirsty. I went to a near by stall and asked for a mineral water bottle. That’s when I noticed something on the wall behind the man. My eyes widened. I stared at the wall in disbelief. This was not possible! This was just not possible! I was not prepared for this.
I had paid the person and he was counting his change back. But I just could not wait anymore. I ran towards Sulu and Bhakti and asked them to hurry up. The man was asking me to take back the money. I could not hear anything. The only things that were flashing in my mind were the photos that were hung on the wall in the stall. They were the photos of the two men we had seen: The White-Dust Men. The only difference was that the photos had garlands over them. We started our bikes and left.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
BACK AT THE FOOTHILL OF SINHAGADH:
After sometime a woman comes out of the house adjoining the stall. She sees the two photographs with garlands on them hung on the wall. She gives out a sigh, “Who put these garlands here? I am sure it must be Papa. I had asked him to put these garlands on the photos of Lord Krishna and Lord Ganesh. Papa is losing his vision day after day. Hari, are you listening? We must take Papa to a doctor as soon as possible. Today he has ‘killed’ our living children, tomorrow he will put the garlands on your and my photos.” She sighs again, removes the garlands and adorns them on the ‘correct’ photos and goes back inside.
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