“Well, I can’t say you are right but girl, you seem to have done a diploma on Raj from the looks of it.”
***
“Not a diploma dude, there is no doubt Meeta is a great girl. Loving, caring, honest, full of life and I have often thought about the idea of …us... but tomorrow, say if my life takes another U-turn, and I end up in dire straits again, is she going to stand by me? or just brand me as a loser..I believe she is going to brand me as a loser. It won’t be her fault, it is simply human nature..so what is the point in it then? Anyhow, how come are you suddenly all interested in Meeta and me a couple of days before your marriage? I hope you are not thinking about leaving Shivani and courting Meeta, eh?”
“No, nothing like that bro. Anyways dude, I have to run now, mama ji (Uncle) and his family is coming for the wedding, and I have to go pick them up from the railway station, I will call you in a couple of hours.”
***
“Well for me richness and success can’t be measures for loving someone, and that is my opinion. What is the point in it if you love someone only when that person is rich or successful, that is not love, merely a façade to satisfy some personal needs.”
“Okay O mother of wisdom, to each their own. I am getting married and I have to go now, so many preparations are pending, I will call you in the evening.”
***
Amar and Shivani after taking leave from their best friends met each other a little while later at the steps outside Ansal Plaza.
“So, how did it go?” asked an excited Shivani, as both of them sat down on the steps.
“Close call, he nearly caught me, guys don’t usually talk with such honesty about their intimate affairs with each other. But the vodka helped,” responded a relieved Amar.
“So you got the recording?” Shivani asked next, anxious to know whether her partner had succeeded in their plan.
“Yes I did, and you?”
“I got it.”
“So what’s next?” asked Amar, a little circumspect of where this was heading to.
“Next we send Meeta your recording, and send Raj mine,” Shivani revealed as she took Amar’s phone and proceeded to send their friends the recordings that she and Amar had covertly obtained of the recent conversations.
“Is it right though? Isn’t this a sort of trickery? Love can’t be trickery,” asked a hesitant Amar.
“Says who, the popular culture?” Shivani retorted, a little vexed at such a naïve statement from her partner. “Besides, is there any other way? I have been trying to bring these two together for so long now but have failed in all my efforts. So this is like a last resort. I am thankful to you though, without you, none of this would have been possible,” And she reached forth and squeezed Amar’s hand, which instantly made him forget about most of his doubts.
“There, I have sent it, this should work,” Shivani announced, before she made the phones in her hand disappear with a quick click of her fingers.
With their task thus done, she got up to leave, but before she could, Amar put forth another proposition for her.
“So I got myself a tree as you commanded my dear lady. I am and Gods are my witness, no longer a treeless Muppet.”
“Oh, well,” she responded, caught a little off-guard. “I haven’t really thought about it. May be we should wait and see if your tree can weather an autumn or two first,” And before he could reply she clicked her fingers a second time, whereby she turned back in to her ghostess’ form, after which she immediately fleeted away from the scene.
“May be, we should wait and see if your tree can weather an autumn or two first..hehe..huhu..haha..bla bla ble ble blu blu,” feeling like a fool, he mockingly repeated her words in a high pitched voice as he now stood at the steps all alone, shaking his head in disbelief.
With nothing else left to do, he then too clicked his fingers and disappeared in to thin air.
*******
In one of the sleeper class compartments of Swaraj express sat Mr. Nalin Sharma and his family, currently heading to Ludhiana for the wedding of Mr. Sharma’s nephew, Amar. During the past hour or so, the family had been involved in quite animated a discussion, which in its course had captured the attention of many of the fellow passengers, most of whom were now standing in the aisle near their compartment, with their ears keenly riveted unto each and every word of the chatter taking place between the members of the Sharma family.
“Okay, so I am going to once again repeat the expenses involved, just double check them for me Nalini,” Mohit, the eldest son of the family instructed his sister, who in turn nodded her head to convey to her brother that he had her full attention.
“So 11000 as Shagun (a financial gift given to a newly married Couple), right?” And as Nalini nodded again, Mohit dexterously fed the amount in the calculator software of his touch screen phone.
“So 11000 is final then? Any chance for a little leeway here?” Mohit now turned to his father, looking to get a final confirmation of the amount from him.
“Come on son, he is my nephew, I have to give at least that much,” Mr. Sharma retorted, a little irritated by the repeated solicitations of his family to make him reduce the gift amount.
“Yes yes, give, give it all away. I ask where was this benevolence of yours at the time of my niece Jahnvi’s wedding?” interjected Mrs. Sharma sharply, shaking her head in disapproval.
“But Jahnvi was a daughter of your cousin, not your real sister,” Mr. Sharma defended himself, though not with any real conviction.
“What then? A niece is a niece. And at least she calls me once every month. Look at your Amar, I bet he doesn’t even remember your existence at times.”
“uff mom, dad..stop it yaar,” It was now Mohit’s turn to intervene, who was getting more and more chafed at his parents for arguing in front of all these strangers.
“just let me concentrate, 11000 for the shagun, and then the earrings for Bhabhi is 7000, and Bhabhi’s make up kit, that is worth 3120, right?” he once again looked at her sister for confirmation and upon receiving the same, entered the amounts in to his phone.
“now let us look at how we can recoup this amount, I think it is at least going to cost them 500 rupees per plate in the wedding, so five plates is 2500, then we can also eat that much in the Shagun ceremony too, so 2500 plus 2500..5000, and they gave us those sweets when they came to invite us, 500 for that..then what were those two others things..vang ..something?” Mohit asked his sister, not able to remember the name of these other ceremonies that were going to fetch the family money in this.
“it was senti..something,” Nalini scratched her head, she too had forgotten the names. “Mum, what was it?” But before the mother could relay out the required information, the voice of an unknown Samaritan from amidst the crowd helped them out.
“sent karai te vangh gudai.”
“Oh yes, thank you, so Sent Karai, mom and dad are going to get some clothes, and then they will also get some money, i think 2000 for the clothes, 1100 as gift money, then vangh gudai, its nalini tying that ornament to the groom’s white mare, and she will get 1100 for that,” Mohit muttered more to himself as he continued to enter the amounts in to the phone.
But while the son was busy making these arduous calculations, the mother took advantage of the momentarily silent in the compartment to begin anew with her rant.
“If Mohit was older today, he would have been married and his wife then would have also fetched good gift money in Surma Pawai, but you, you had to wait at least 5 years after marriage. I am not ready to have kids so soon, I am not ready,” It was clear that all of Mrs. Sharma’s ire was currently directed towards her husband, who in return forlornly turned his eyes towards the window and began gazing at the scenery outside, knowing full well that any more arguments with his wife at this stage were futile. But his apathy only increased her petulance and she went on with the rant with even more vehemence than before.
“And what more, in Jahnvi?
??s wedding Nalini got wonderful share in Ribbon Cutting and Jutta Chupai, but sorry daughter, you don’t get that when you are attending a wedding from the Groom’s side,” she lamented. “But even then we gave just 5100 for Jahnvi, but it is eleven damn thousand for this Amar!”
“Uff..stop it stop it stop it..mom..I need to concentrate,” Mohit hollered, which subdued Mrs. Sharma in to silence at once.
“So I have made all the calculations,” And Mohit lifted the screen of his phone, first to each of his family members and then to the anticipatory crowd.
Many a disgruntled groans and audible sighs were heard around the compartment as the screen was displaying a net loss of 11420 to the family!
“Anything else guys, anything we might have missed?” Mohit asked with an exhausted sigh, there seemed no light at the end of this dark tunnel to him. He was on the verge of losing all hope when another altruistic voice issued itself forth from the crowd.
“If Nalini is a little obstinate about having a professional apply Henna on her hands, and for the wedding, she could ask that they take her to a beauty parlor for her makeup, may be something could happen then?”
“Oh Yesss! Why did not I get this idea first..lets see..2000 for the beauty parlor…500 for Henna,” And Mohit made some more calculations before he once again lifted the phone to show everyone the final result.
The family was still facing a net loss of 8920, the situation was not as bad as before but it was still pretty bad.
“Anything else?” Mohit asked again, but everyone around him had gone mute. Just then the train entered a tunnel and in the darkness the dejection felt even heavier.
When light finally flooded back in to the compartment, Mohit noticed the despondent look on the faces of his family members, the pain of the coming loss leaving a giant hole in their hearts, and in wistful silence they all suffered, and it seemed that this suffering would be their fate for the next few days, when suddenly a tea-seller came out of the crowd and stepped in their compartment.
“this little child, he belongs to you?” he asked nonchalantly, while pointing to a very young boy who was sleeping on the seat next to Mrs. Sharma.
“yes he is ours, why?” Mr. Sharma replied, looking at him a little warily.
“Well you guys are from the groom’s side, and close relations you have, and this child of yours is small, just the right age for being the groom’s Sarbala. Do that and you will at least collect 10000 in Shagun,” he suggested with an ingenious smile playing on his lips.
“O Wow, O man what a freaking good idea, I mean, I mean it is going to take us straight in to profit!!!!” an incredulous Mohit jumped up from his seat in excitement and patted the tea-seller heartily on his back to show him his gratitude.
“thank you bhaiya..thank you so much for this idea,” Nalini was the next to show her appreciation and soon the rest of the family too joined in.
“Just leave this thanking wanking aside, and buy some tea from me like good people should.” The tea seller guffawed as he began to pour for them the tea.
And so he left them with four hot cups of tea and one very clever idea, and once he was safely out of everyone’s sight, he clicked his fingers and disappeared.
*******
Death is inevitable for all of us, the one absolute truth of all life.
No matter who you are, where you are from, what strata of society you belong to, the black hand of death will one day wrap itself around your throat and wring the life out of you. It is one entity that does not differentiate between the rich and the poor, the mighty and the meek, the general and the reserved, death, whose looming shadow is ever present around each one of us.
No wonder then that we are all afraid of death to an extent, but what if this fear of death becomes so great, so paralyzing that it stops one from living altogether, what if the dangers of the path weigh the mind down so heavily that one shirks from the adventures of it entirely?
The existence of a person would indeed become a blighted one in such a case, all his actions governed by his dread of death, his spirit a mere slave paying daily obeisance to the Yama.
Thirty two year old Vikram Sahni was one such person, whose every waking hour was plagued by the vision of a grim reaper coming to strike him down with his scythe, and consequently, the whole purpose of Vikram Sahni’s existence was to keep that grim reaper at bay.
This afternoon, like every other single afternoon before, Vikram was walking near the railway tracks, making his way towards an old Peepal tree located a little distance ahead. One would think that a man so afraid of death would avoid wandering outdoors and especially keep his distance from a hazardous place like the railway tracks but ironically it was this very fear which brought Vikram Sahni to these tracks every day.
Some six months ago, he had visited a Pandit Ji whom upon hearing of Vikram’s great fright of death had ordained him to go to this one specific Peepal tree twice each day and tie a black thread around its trunk as a guaranteed expedient for protection against untimely death.
So once every afternoon and once every evening he now forced himself to take this mile long walk from his house to the Peepal tree, it being hard for him to even imagine the audacity of going against the instructions of the venerated Pandit Ji.
And since the path outside was fraught with many a dangers, Vikram Sahni kept his senses awake and alert to these at all times. The way he always walked a couple of yards away from the railway tracks to avoid a possible collision with an onrushing train, or the manner in which he cowered and ducked his head whenever he passed by an electric pole in order to avoid possible electrocution, or how he wore a warm sweater on a sunny afternoon to quash any possible chances of pneumonia while keeping an umbrella overhead to fend off cancer causing radiations, were all tokens of the fact that this man tried to smell even the faintest traces of danger and did all in his powers to safeguard himself against them.
Slowly and very carefully he thus moved, taking a long time before he finished walking the treacherous path and reached the Peepal tree, on whose hoary trunk were already present countless black threads. Soon Vikram Sahni finished tying another one around it, therefore shielding himself from the reaper’s scythe at least until the evening.
But as he turned to go back he noticed on one of the tracks a young kid, squatting there and busily searching for something amidst the rocks, completely oblivious to the Swaraj Express which was heading towards him. Vikram’s first instinct was to rush on to the tracks and save that child, but the poisonous tonic of fear poured in to his veins and froze him in his place.
What if he mistimed his run, what if the train hit him instead of the child, what if another train on a parallel track hit both of them, what if he tripped, fell and was unable to get back up on time?
No, this was folly, pure folly.
“Oye..Oye boy, train is coming..!” Vikram shouted at the top of his lungs, trying to catch the kid’s attention. This seemed to him the best way to attempt a rescue.
But the kid remained lost in his own little world, paying no mind to Vikram’s shouts as he continued picking up the pebbles he had spilled there.
The train was coming nearer now and Vikram’s shouts were getting louder, more desperate, but still they were of no avail. And just as the train had come within a few yards of the kid, Pandit Ji’s hallowed voice echoed in his ears.
“Son, never witness someone’s death, it is a bad Omen.”
And so quickly he turned his back on the tracks and clamped his eyes shut. Behind him the Swaraj express had now crossed the point where the young kid had been squatting, and not wanting the sight of his dead body to mar his fortunes, a shuddering Vikram walked away from the site of the accident.
Luckily though, and unknown to him, when that train had fully passed over, there were to be seen no squashed up entrails of that young kid on the track, instead as if by some miracle, he was standing safely on the other side, a curious look in his eyes as he stuck out h
is tongue and tried to taste the snot running out of his nose.
*******
2
“Hope. It’s a funny thing this hope. Deprive a man of it and you might as well deprive him of life itself. Conversely if you give any person no matter how downtrodden a glimmer of this hope, then it can inspire him to pull himself out of any kind of despair and fly up to the heights that are full of vivaciousness and joy,” ruminated Arjun as he sat on the parapet of a random roof top in the city, gazing at the orange hue of the sun which was currently setting behind the steeples of a temple.
“Aren’t we stating the obvious?” responded Roshni, who was sitting next to Arjun on the parapet, it being a usual occurrence for the two of them to come together every now and then and enjoy a sunset.
“After all we have seen over the years, first as mortals and then as ghosts, do you think there is any room left for novelty? Every one of us is stating the obvious in one way or another,” riposted Arjun, before he momentarily looked up towards his holographic map which was being projected in the sky above.
A white dove carrying an olive leaf in its beak represented his location on that map, while a miniature effigy of a man rising up on a bubble symbolized the location of Roshni. Besides these and the symbols representing the location of the other ghosts, there was on that map the conspicuous presence of a blinking yellow dot, signifying that there was a person in the city at this very moment that needed the ghost of hope’s help.
But Arjun completely ignored its presence and with a doleful sigh, turned his eyes back to gaze once again at the beautiful winter sun set.
“It is that same guy, isn’t it?” Roshni asked rather rhetorically, after she had seen Arjun ignoring the presence of that blinking dot upon his map.
“Yes, my good lady, it’s the very same guy,” replied Arjun, a little dramatically. “Of my countless fuck ups in life, that, right there, is the biggest fuck up of them all. And what more, the perpetual presence of that blinking yellow dot upon my map, acts for me as an unremitting reminder of that failure, every time I happen to look at it,” he sighed as his shoulders slumped somewhat, a look of pensiveness casting itself forth on his countenance.
“Though I have asked you about this guy a few times before, you have always evaded my questions on the subject. Now I do not wish to come across as someone who is unnecessarily prying in to your business, but I am here for you in case you feel that sharing this story might lighten your load a little,” suggested Roshni, who knew well that Arjun was someone who liked to keep his troubles close to his chest, and will therefore in all possibility refute her offer, still she fostered a slight hope that her friend would open up and stop carrying all this weight upon his shoulders, as she did notice how it was bogging him down day after day. Out of all the ghosts, her friend was given the roughest of bargains, to deal with the desperate, dejected and suicidal of this world and to try and give them hope was no easy business.