Monday, February 14, 2011

What a wonderful world



The moon had taken over the sky on a Sunday night. It was on its way to witness another complete revolution of the earth on its axis, it would like always bring in a new day in a few moments. Sameer was staring idly at his Face book page.
His phone clicked a couple of times indicating a message. It was another of those early Valentine’s Day messages sent by a few who knew how to save a buck or two. He walked to the balcony of his house, it was late in the night and the city was peaceful.
The facebook page made a noise. It was Nida, his friend.
“How bad do I look?” she asked
“Ummm..that’s a tough question “ he typed back in reply
“Sameer it’s a serious question”
“You don’t look bad at all Nida! why that question?”
There was no response from Nida for a while.
“deR?”
“Yeah”
“What happened? Bol na
“Nothing, that’s the problem”
His phone clicked again
“Is this about Valentine’s day?”
There was no response again for a while.
“I think that’s a yes”
“Yes” came the reply in an instant
“But leave it” she added “Its mighty depressing not having someone special in your life as it is, discussing it makes it sound even more depressing”
oye, it isn’t depressing at all”
He waited for her to say something but there was nothing
“Let me explain. Tomorrow is Valentine’s right. It will be a reason for someone who loves you or adores you or even has a slight crush on you to come forward and tell you that”
“So?”
“Think, someone whom you really adore, comes forward and says ‘Can I ask you something’, I am sure you will be on cloud nine for a few seconds. Aren’t we living for those few moments in life?”
“Hah”
And just like many years ago Sameer had made Nida smile.
                                                    **************
“Team meeting” her TL announced
“Now?”
He nodded and went on announcing around the other cubicles. She picked her phone from the desk and headed towards the elevators. When the door opened she made her way towards it, she fumbled at the small gap between the cabin and the door. A guy held her. He was fair and tall and looking handsome in the white shirt. His arms were still supporting her
“Can I ask you something” he asked her chuckling.
Nida closed her eyes “Sameer you idiot” she cursed under her breath.
                                                    **************
Nida was at her doorstep, looking for the keys to the house when her phone rang. It was Sameer. She picked it
I see trees of green, red roses too” he crooned “I see them bloom, for me and you and I think to myself …what a wonderful world
Nida had a huge smile on her face “What was that?”
“A song”
“I know and a bad singer to add to that, but why the song?”
I see skies of blue, clouds of white. Bright blessed days, dark sacred nights and I think to myself …what a wonderful world
“That doesn’t answer my question”
The colours of a rainbow…so pretty in the sky. Are also on the face… of people going by. I see friends shaking hands, saying how do you do…They are really saying…I love you
The smile widened “really?”
“Why? You are my best friend and I love you for that. I thought it was Valentine’s Day and why not let you know”
“I know, what’s the harm”
“You know had I not known you so well, I would have asked you out”
Nida smiled, Sameer had once again made her day.


Footnotes:
May all of you find love in everything around you! 

Monday, February 7, 2011

Chase-the sequel


The moon was hiding behind the clouds, peeping out occasionally to make sure that it wasn't missing out on something interesting

 I was sitting in front of a computer screen showing complicated screens with important data popping out in regular intervals. My eyes were tiring out; red threads were creeping into the white of my sleep deprived eyes.
"Dude I am hungry" K.D said
“same here, let’s go to some tapri"
“Are you done with your work?"
"Nopes, but if I don't take my eyes off this screen for now then I will never finish it"
“Alright, btw you have cash?” KD asked
“No, but I will withdraw it from some ATM nearby”
“Cool”

Since the evolution of man, very few friendships have lasted the test of time.  Today, one such friendship will be tested.

KD kicked start his bike, making the only noise in the huge parking lot and drove out. The weather outside the office was different. There was a slight breeze along with a chill in the air. The breeze massaged my tired eyelids. I was losing the fight of staying up when KD stopped on a corner.

He pointed towards the ATM at the other side of the road. When I saw the ATM for the first time, I knew it was different, but I thought common sense took over me and I started to cross the road. I stood at the divider checking for any cars, there was a chill which ran down my spine. I thought I heard something but wasn’t sure. For the second time in these few minutes I did not listen to my senses, a fact that I regret.

I crossed the road and was just about a few steps away from the ATM when I was sure I sensed an old enemy. The growl was there, and the enemy decided to let go of a bark. My walk turned into a sprint to the ATM, and the old enemy was a few steps behind me. The door of the ATM was too heavy for the enemy. I stood behind those heavy doors safe but I knew that this couldn’t go on forever. I had to start looking for an exit but there was none in sight.

127 seconds to go

“Why was it chasing you?”KD shrieked
“I don’t know man, but you got to help me man”
“That thing looks ferocious”

100 seconds to go

KD called again
“That thing isn’t moving”
“I can see that”
“We need to distract it”
“I will throw a stone or something, you run and jump on my bike”


80 seconds to go

I pushed the door as slightly as ever waiting in anticipation of KD’s move.  I couldn’t go more than a step outside; the stone couldn’t really distract it. It only made it turn away and it saw its victim trying to step out and in an instant jumped.

I pushed the door back, it collided with the door and still growling. I could see those teeth grinding against each other in anticipation of the victim, and those eyes never let go of the victim.

I was starting to lose hope.

60 seconds to go

“What is that noise?” the security guard inside the ATM asked rubbing his eyes
I explained him my situation.  He rushed into the small cabin masked behind the machine. I thought I had lost my only hope. But that’s what I thought.

30 seconds to go

He came out with a huge stick and rushed outside towards the enemy
“Madar****” he shouted at the enemy, letting go a blow at the enemy. The enemy resisted for once but started to back track. I saw my opportunity; I rushed outside the ATM and ran across the street towards KD. He had kick started his bike already. On my way, one leg got into the way of the other and I fell. But the enemy was nowhere to be seen. This was to be continued for later.

They say that it is man’s best friend, but after my ordeals I have come to doubt it. When old friendships were tested, a hero was born.

I was sitting behind KD and watching my hero light a beedi on the stairs of the ATM. I don’t know how things would have been had it not been for his heroic act.

 The moon was clear of the clouds, I am sure. 

EPILOGUE:
"Dude did you withdraw some money?" KD asked


Footnotes:
This is my hundredth post on my blog. I thought of writing some ode to myself but I guess the best way to do it is by doing it the way I know best.

For those who don't know about "The Chase" click here



Sunday, January 30, 2011

The Book Thief

When death tells a story, you really want to listen. And this time you wouldn't want death to stop. He tells a beautiful and intriguing tale of Liesel Meminger and those around her.

He starts with a train journey. He tells us about the colour of sky that day, Snow white, when he met Liesel for the first time. He took someone away from her, her brother. It was at his grave where Liesel stole for the first time. She didn't know much about the book she stole "The grave diggers handbook", but the words in the book she stole got meaning once she meets papa "Hans Hubberman", who taught her to read.
And then starts a story where words overpower you with emotions,smiles,love and magic.

Set in Molching street,during the Nazi era "The book thief" is a must read. The story sometimes reminded me of Malgudi days but Markus Zusak's style of writing is very original. He paints the story of Liesel in front of your eyes with his imaginative use of words.

The characters around her stay on with you long after you have finished the book. The most notable among them are

  • Rudy Steiner
  • Hans Hubberman, papa
  • Rosa Hubberman, mama
  • Max Vandenberg
  • IIsa Hermann
This book "The Book Thief" is one hell of a book. It is a slow book, but every page of this book is magic. Some of the scenes in the book like Rudy Steiner as Jesse Owens, when Liesel  enters the library, Max painting Fuhrer on the basement wall and so on.

I would recommend this book for every one. And once you've read it, thank me for recommending it.

Image courtesy : www.flipkart.com

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

I Cry

Hi guys,

I don't know how many people still remember me or my blog and its not your fault. I have been off circuit for more than three months now. It's strange that my last three posts have all come on 26th of a month and after three months now, here I am writing something.

I wonder what went wrong. It has been really difficult for me to sit down and write. I for one never wrote because I just had to write. I write because I enjoy writing. A mere 98 posts in four years indicates that. I always wrote because I felt like.

My work schedule isn't helping either. A new shift every two weeks hasn't helped me settle into any particular schedule. My weight issues weren't helping either, but thats one thing I will not complain about now. I have put my weight concerns to rest(I think) and I am feeling better about myself now.
This is going to be difficult,I have been through dry patches before and have come back out of it. I know I can write better than before but I have never felt this way before.

I will not give up on my writing. That is one thing for sure. I saw Nadal cry today when things weren't going his way on the tennis court. I don't think I have ever seen him so broken on the tennis court, but if I ask people today if he will fight back, almost every one will agree that he will. So from this I take inspiration.  I know that the way back will not be easy but I will take the first steps and hope that the road will take care of itself.

Cheers

Shady West Side

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

A clown and the father

“What does that clown do?” a newly married lady whispered in her husband’s ears.
Arshad hears that a lot. He widens his smile even more and walks towards the couple in his trademark split leg style.
“There is a clown in all of us; I am here to bring it out” he said while taking out his huge notebook and presented it to the couple.
The two flipped the pages of the notebook; it was full of cartoon sketches made out of real people.  Arshad the clown was an artist who also performed to collect a few coins from the visitors in and around the Charminar, to fill the stomach of his small family.
It wasn’t a thriving business like that of Irani chai, sold by many small cafes around or the small hawkers selling useless but strange looking things. Arshad himself was strange looking in his clown outfit. The white cream with red nose and huge red smile was accompanied by surma in his eyes. He had a clown top and a pyjama below which was a total mismatch but helped him attract the attention of the tourists around. The local visitors and those from the nearby states never gave him more than 20 rupees. Every now and then there was an unsuspecting foreigner who thought of it as some kind of art, which has survived the tide of town and probably Arshad is preserving the culture of the Indian clown which has been lost to time. These visitors gave him anything between 50 to 500 rupees depending upon how the sketch turns out.
As the day grew on, the crowd at the Charminar grew thicker. The sun was kinder to the white skin of the foreigners who had come to visit the city. Arshad had by now managed to gather a crowd around him, while the antique coin seller and the toy makers sitting adjacent to Arshad looked on. They knew it will take just a turn of head to be seen by someone in the crowd. That would be their chance.
“What if the cartoon doesn’t look like me?”
“Then all my work is yours” Arshad replied
There was a chuckle, it was familiar to Arshad. He heard it every day, that of his little son Ali, who was hidden behind the long legs. For Ali, his father worked at an office at a far off place and came back home late in the night tired. He might have got his Ammi along with him but Arshad was sure she was at one of the pearl shops.
Arshad continued with his sketch, but was watching Ali from the corner of his eye. Ali stood there in rapt attention as his father drew laughs from the audience he had gathered. For Arshad only one laugh mattered then, that of Ali. For years, he couldn’t face his son because he never did something his child could be proud of. Ali was too small to understand that but some day he would, Arshad dreaded that day. But today wasn’t that day. Today was different, Ali was enjoying every moment of this and there couldn’t be a better moment for Arshad than this.

The crowd started to thin with the sound of the magrib azaan. Arshad gestured towards Ali, summoning him.
“Come here beta
The Joker who had held his attention till now was asking for him. His tiny feet took him slowly to Arshad
“How about a sketch beta
Ali tried to say something but the sound never came out and after gathering a little courage he said
“I don’t have the money”
Arshad smiled and said “Don’t worry; I will not take money from you. You are like my son”
A smile appeared on Ali’s face, as he heard the stranger clown.
“Stand in front of me, while I make your sketch” Arshad said
The smile started growing wider as Ali posed for Arshad, when they heard something
“Aliiiiii..” his mother shouted
Ali heard her voice and hid behind the railings before the entrance to the Charminar. Arshad could see Ali behind the railings and continued sketching. Ali’s mother spotted him too; she held his hand and dragged him away from the railings while stealing a smile at Arshad.
Arshad completed the sketch in a few minutes and placed it aside. He placed it aside for the dreadful day when Ali will not know why he should be proud of his father.

Sunday, September 26, 2010

The Dabaang effect

I might be 16 days late for this post, but well the Dabaang fever is not going to subside for a while so what the heck. Its better late than never.

Now tell me something, what makes this movie unique?.

It doesn't have a story line for starters. For some reason Salman Khan has got a formula for his no script movies to work, take for example "Maine pyaar kyu kiya","Partner", "Wanted" and add "Dabaang" to that list. Movies without script can fail big time, you can ask the director actor combo of Priyadarshan and Akshay Kumar who seem to think by running around the city and over acting are a key to success.  So why did Dabaang work?

The Salman star power, I might say this might be one of the reasons. Salman has been doing it for years so may be yes, his star power carried the movie through.

The action, definitely yes. Though there are barely three full blown action sequences they are well shot, so they did make for a good viewing.

The length of the movie was a great factor. The movie was a quick one, no over dose of the show Salman was carrying on his broad shoulders.

Aggressive publicity program. People were waiting for the date of release. Salman was on every show on Indian television to promote the movie. I guess the hard work paid off.

May be it was the Zandu Balm effect. I heard that Malaika Arora- Khan is also the brand ambassador of Zandu Balm now. Wow

Or maybe the most intelligent shirt of Bollywood. It tore of at the right moment, without anyone touching it. The shirt was the difference eventually between apna Chulbul Pandey and Chedi Singh. Poor Chedi Singh spent all his energy and rage in tearing his shirt while apna Chlbul was focussed thanks to the intelligent shirt.

If you ask me what made me watch the film was the trailer. The first look of it, it looked stylish. The Dabaang tune had a little bit of the country feel to it, the trailer promised a lot of action and just to balance all of it Salman adds "Hum tumme itne ched karenge ki con-phuse ho jaoge ki saas kaha se le aur ...."

To be honest I enjoyed the movie and this one is definitely one to watch when one is stressed out

May be the intellectual kinds would find themselves not too challenged after watching this movie, I can give them something to ponder over. Try answering this
"What is it about this movie that made it work?"

Friday, September 3, 2010

Return -Blog-a-ton

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 14; the fourteenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.
The sun was relentless in shining down on the largely dried up farm of Faridkot. The kids used it as their cricket ground during summers. The rains were scarce last year and that had affected the entire village, electricity was a blessed on the villagers for a couple of hours during the evening. During those hours the villagers assembled near Salim bhai’s house. He had once gone to Dubai for a few months, bought a T.V for the village. Ajju’s family stayed just besides Salim bhai’s house. Ajju used to play with Salim bhai’s kids, Zaheer and Irfan.
Zaheer and Irfan were more like brothers to him. Ajju’s father; Mohammad Hanif, was unemployed for most of the year. He worked on Salim bhai’s farms after the rains, and that was all he earned during the entire year. Salim bhai was generous enough to make sure that Hanif bhai and family had two meals to eat. Salim bhai had once gifted Ajju a cricket bat; it was Ajju’s favorite bat. Ajju hit his first six with it; he still remembers how he lofted Irfan bhai’s bowl outside the maidan. Every one clapped for him, Ajju felt his heart skip a beat. He liked that feeling.
Ajju and his friends were playing their daily game of cricket. Irfan was always too fast for Ajju but over the years as Ajju grew up he learned to play him, he would hit Irfan for six every now and then, for that special feeling.
“Ajju we don’t need to hit, aaram se khelna” Zaheer shouted to Ajju from the other end of the pitch. Ajju nodded but everybody knew that Ajju will try and hit it, it came naturally to him. Irfan ran in to bowl, Ajju stepped down the pitch and lofted. The ball touched the sun before flying outside the maidan.
Ajju’s eyes were fixed on the trajectory. He wished he could fly like the ball, something told him that one day he would.
Irfan ran in to bowl even faster this time; Ajju lofted him outside the maidan again. The fair Irfan was now red because of the heat and anger. A fielder threw the ball to him. He had now decided what he was going to bowl to Ajju. He ran in and bounced Ajju. The ball hit Ajju on his head, Irfan smirked, and Zaheer threw his bat down and ran towards Ajju who had now collapsed. Zaheer carried him in his arms and ran to the Hakim. He applied a malham to stop the bleeding.
                                                                      ********
“What do you expect me to do?”Hanif bhai shouted at his wife
“I hope you know that all we have to eat is what Salim bhai gives us” he continued
There was a knock at the door. It was Salim bhai’s wife. She had a covered plate in her hand
“I have bought some gosh for Ajju. It will help him feel better” she smiled and walked towards Ajju’s mother. She handed her the plate and walked with her in the kitchen
“I am sorry about what happened, these things happen when children play”
                                                  *********
Ajju started working along with his father, it would add to the income of the household. Moreover he had nothing else to do. He couldn’t play cricket. At first he would sit near the maidan and watch other kids play but that was nothing like playing it. So if he had to stop playing it, then he would have to stop watching it.
He would carry the water from the canal to Salim bhai’s farm and water the crops. The canal was also drying up because of the lack of rains, but there was no other source of water. Ajju had once heard that Salim Bhai might stop farming during the summers when the water was scarce. He said he hardly made any money, but he had to feed three extra stomachs instead. Ajju knew this wasn’t a good thing.
                                                  *********
At the madrasa, the maulvi told the kids a story
There was once this poor family, it consisted of a single mother and her kids. She did not earn any money, but she had to feed her children. She did not have the courage to tell her children that there was no food, so what she did was in a huge bowl, she poured in a lot of water. She kept stirring it. Her kids asked her when the food would be ready and she would answer that it would be ready soon She hoped that her kids would sleep soon, till then she would continue stirring the water. Our Khalifa Umar Bin Al Khatab saw this; he went back to his house and bought a huge bag of rice. She cooked the rice and her children did not sleep empty stomach. So the lesson from this story is to have faith in ALLAH. He tests us but will help us in the test. The lady was being tested but she was helped by Allah. It was Allah’s wish that Umar (R.A) help them and he did. So kids have faith in ALLAH, he does everything for our good.”
Ajju knew that this was a test, but he couldn’t see where Allah’s help was coming from. His maulvi had also told him that we must keep praying to Allah and tell him what we want. So Ajju raised his hands towards the heavens after his prayer, and cried. He cried to Allah for help. He did not know why Allah was testing his family, but they needed help. He cried for that help.
                                                                *********
Ramadan is a month of blessings. Ajju never understood the meaning of blessing, but his father told him is that Allah sends gifts to everyone from his house.
“Where does Allah stay?”
“He stays above the heavens”
“Are they higher than the sky?”
“Much higher”
Ajju’s mother woke him up early in the morning for sehri. The sehri is the early morning meal Muslims eat just before they start observing their fast. Ajju’s sehri was the leftovers from last night’s iftar.
After their meal Ajju and Hanif bhai did their wadhu (ablution) and left for the mosque. On their way Ajju tapped on Hanif bhai’s hand
Abbu, I want to drink water”
“Now?” Hanif Bhai asked. Ajju nodded.
“Ok, go rush to our house and drink water before you hear the Azan
Ajju ran back to his house and had his glass of water. On his way back, he looked high in the sky. There was some kind of noise, a star was moving in the sky. It kept changing it color from red to white. It looked like the blessing his father had told him about. He ran to the mosque shouting
“Allah ki rehmat”
                                                                *******
The Faridkot mosque had a visitor during the zuhur (noon) prayer. Maulana Mohammad Tahir was a prominent persona in this region. He had madrasa’s running all over the country. He would listen to kids recite Quran for a few minutes. If he liked it then he would take them to the madrasa and turn them into a Hafiz (A person who remembers the entire Quran by heart). The entire village had assembled outside the mosque to meet him. He loved talking at length about the fazilat (blessings) of Allah. He stayed in the mosque for the two days he was there.
The kids would come to the mosque after the magrib (dusk) prayer. They would carry their Quran and sit in a line, Maulana sahab would call them one and by one and ask them to recite a few verses. He would close his eyes and listen with full attention.
Ajju was also sitting in the mosque. He had seen a few of the Faridkot kids go to the madrasa. They would come once in a month to Faridkot. They carried a lot of gifts for their family. Ajju also wanted to bring gifts for his Abbu and Ammi.
“Ajju, it’s your turn” maulvi sahab announced
Ajju held his Quran close to his heart, and praised the almighty in every step he took towards Maulana Mohammad Tahir. Maulana Mohammad Tahir was sitting in one of the corners of the mosque; a fan was placed in his vicinity to make him feel comfortable. His eyes were closed; he had worn a white turban which went along with his white dishasha (traditional Arabic dress). The Bisht adorning his dishasha was black in colour with golden embroidery. His beard was dyed black and he sported no moustache.
“Tahir sahab, this is Ajju, Hanif Bhai’s son”
Maulana Tahir opened his eyes and greeted the tiny Ajju with a warm smile and a pat on his back
“Ajju, since when have you started the tilawat of the Holy Quran?”
Ajju was nervous, his throat was going dry
“I was small” is all he managed
Maulana Tahir smiled again
“Recite the Holy Quran, I am listening” he said and rested against the corner wall of the mosque. He closed his eyes, ready to absorb and scrutinize every word recited by Ajju from the Quran.
Ajju fumbled with his recitation. He was too scared and nervous to recite properly. There were kids who had better pronunciation, a sweeter voice and recited the Quran better than what Ajju did. He was rejected.
                                                                *******
Maulana Tahir had arranged for a bus for all the selected kids. A bus was arranged for them to be taken to the madrasa where they would be turned into pious Muslims. Ajju sat on the porch of the mosque staring at the bus. He wanted to be one of those special kids who would go to the magical land away from Faridkot. Maulana Tahir’s madrasa was Ajju’s escape from the dry canals of Faridkot, the bullies in the maidan. It was a step closer to “Allah ki rehmat”.
Ajju did not take his eyes off the bus door. The lure of the magical land was too good to resist for Ajju and he slid under the back seat of the bus after the Fajar (morning) prayer. The dark below did not scare Ajju anymore; after all he was on his way to meet his destiny.
Ajju is still unsure what his life would have been had he not boarded the bus, had he not met the man he fondly calls “Sheikh”.
                                                                *******
“Sir, we have arranged for a car of your choice” Avinash said wearing his customary smile
“And will you be able to set up my office here by evening?” Sameer asked
“It will be ready sir”
Sameer nodded approvingly
“Anything else I can do for you Mr. Marathe?”
“No, that will be all”
“Very well then...”
“Oh I have one more thing to ask” Sameer interrupted “I would like to have a traditional meal tonight”
“Will be done sir” Avinash 
Sameer smiled approvingly and Avinash left for his office. Sameer Marathe was one of the important guests in the hotel and Avinash always makes sure to take special care of the guests.

Sameer made his way towards the exit. Every morning is a moment of realization for Sameer. He knows he has come a long way. From a small farmer family to a political player who people want on their side, yes he has come a long way.
What made Sameer different was the fact that on his way he never picked up unnecessary superstitions or beliefs. He looked like a person with a lot of self belief, someone who doesn’t rely on pleasing the supernatural to get his work done. Sameer’s belief in the almighty had thus over a period of time started bordering on the lines of atheism.
The black Maybach was waiting for him at the exit of the hotel. Even before he put his foot on the last step of the descending stair case, the chauffer had opened the door for Sameer. Sameer made his way into the Maybach and they were good to go.
Sameer had come to the city for an “arm twist”. The state was plagued by a lot of political parties and coalition politics was the need of the state. In coalition politics it was important for every small player to make sure that he made his existence known. That is what Sameer Marathe was here for.
The leading party headquarters were at an hour’s drive from the hotel. Sameer always enjoyed these drives. He loved the hustle and bustle of the city unlike his town which loved to move in its own pace. The people were different here. Their lives are so compact that they do not have time to express themselves. Their moment of introspection was always at the two minute signal on their way to work, school or college. If an old man was thinking about the neglect he faces at home every day, the teenage girl was thinking about the boy who sits ahead of her in the class. If the young lady was finding everything about her new marriage beautiful, the nursery going boy was crying because his mother was not around. There was no such thing as private space in the big cities, the city people could never focus on one thing and that is why Sameer was here, where he is today. Sameer would always be focused on the small issues of his town while his counterparts in the city had so much on their hands that they eventually forget what issues won them the elections. They had to take a lot of credit from the bank of favours on the other hand Sameer’s account in the same bank was in surplus. He hardly had much to worry about.
                                                                *******
It was sheikh’s order and Ajju had learned to obey it. A big car is not difficult to miss, even if it is in a rich city. Ajmal’s trained eyes would not let the black car out of his sight.
“He loves the black colour” Ajju was told. The colour considered being the colour of class by the rich, but in his world it was the colour for stealth. Something told him that the man in the black car was a bit of both.
Security would have been stronger had they heard noises, but Ajju doesn’t make noises. He listens; he obeys and returns to his master, his Sheikh
                                                                *******
Sameer’s phone beeped. It was his secretary who was waiting for him at the headquarters.
Marathe sahab, where are you? People are waiting for you here”
“I wanted just that” he replied with a smile.
“If you make them wait any longer, Mr Sharma will leave the office”
“Then tell him that he has a lunch planned with me this afternoon”
“But there isn’t!”
“I am sure there is”
                                                                *******
Sameer Marathe’s car was waiting outside the party headquarters. Shri Ram Manohar Sharma saw the car and knew that it was his. Sameer Marathe would always play with his own set of rules, and would never change them.
He made his way to Sameer Marathe’s car, leaving his body guards behind. The conversation is always discreet, that’s the way this side of the world works. Sharma opened the door and made his way inside the car.
“So where are we heading for lunch?” Sameer asked
“No where I have another party meeting to attend”
Sameer smiled “I know and I figure you want to be there in a hurry otherwise you might miss the chance with the new actress”
“What in the earth does that mean?”
“I am sure you know more about that than I do”
“Listen I don’t have time for this non sense, tell me why you are here?”
Sameer poured a glass of whisky for Ram Manohar.
“You know very well why I am here. I want the land”
Ram Manohar was exasperated
“You know why I can’t give you the land”
“Because some adhivasis think that the land is sacred? I don’t buy that”
“Well you will have to because even I believe in the holiness of the land”
Sameer poured another one for himself
“I guess then you will have to part with your holy land”
“Don’t you have any morals?”
Sameer continued sipping his whisky
“Aren’t you scared of god?”
The smile returned to his face “I don’t believe in god”
                                                                *******
Ajju knew that the right time was approaching, as soon as the person who just entered the car would leave the man in the car wouldn’t have anything else to do and that was the right time. His bag had the ammunition he needed. It was only a matter of time.
                                                                *******
Sameer had twisted the right arms. The city people had come to an agreement with him. The land wouldn’t be transferred on his name but in the name of a company. All it needed was an office and a name and Sameer would know how to cover up the roots which trace back to him. It was part of his business.
Sameer started making his way back to the hotel. Tonight he would celebrate before leaving for his town.
His car stopped at the red light. The right door opened and a man jumped in. Sameer tried to reach for his gun but the man held his arm behind his back and placed a piece of cloth on his mouth. It was hazy initially and then darkness settled in.
                                                                *******
Sameer was woken up with a splash of water on his face. He slowly opened his eyes, he was unsure where he was, was he even alive? He was tied to a chair with his hands on his back. The room was dark and old. The floor was layered in soil and mud. The walls had taken a lot of beating over the years, the holes in the walls told a story of their own. Behind him was a small table which had rusted over the years. An idol of lord ganesha was placed on it.
He heard footsteps approaching the door. The door opened and the man walked in
“Who are you?” Sameer shouted
The man did not respond. He made his way to the other side of the room, towards the wall Sameer was facing. There was a window; he slowly wiped out the mud from the window panes. The room now had more light.
“I think now we can talk” Ajju said as he walked towards Sameer
“Who are you? What do you want?”
Ajju sat in front of Sameer, on the muddy floor.
“Why don’t you talk? What do you want?”
“I think I need some silence to gather my thoughts, and you are not giving me that. I would appreciate your silence”
Ajju slowly took a cigarette out of his pocket. He placed in between his lips and tried to light it.
“I don’t know how to smoke, I am sure you know how to, do you?”
Sameer did not reply
“I don’t think this conversation is going anywhere if you don’t answer my question”
Sameer nodded.
“So you know how to smoke” Ajju pushed himself towards Sameer and stood on his knees. He pushed the cigarette in Sameer’s mouth and drew the lighter towards him. Sameer took a few drags of the cigarette to light it. Ajju pulled it outside his mouth.
“So this is how you light it?” and took a drag. Ajju started coughing.
He got up and pulled Sameer’s hair
“Why do you people smoke? Tell me why do you people smoke” he said shouting even more louder
“I don’t know” Sameer started crying “I don’t know why people smoke, I don’t know who you are and I don’t know why you are doing this, I don’t know”    
“Then let me tell you” Ajju pushed Sameer. Sameer fell of the chair on his back. Ajju threw the cigarette on the floor and stepped on it, crushing it and put it off.
“I am here to do this”
“Why?” Sameer was even more scared “What did I ever do to you?”
“The decision to smoke was mine and to put off the cigarette was also mine. So is this.”
Ajju took a gun outside his pocket and aimed it at Sameer. He shot the rope which held Sameer’s hands together. Sameer’s hands were free. He got up facing the table behind him; he stumbled and could only grab the ganesha on the table. The second bullet hit Sameer; his eyes were fixed on Ganesha.
He prayed.
                                                                *******
The bus reminded him of his first journey. The journey began many years ago. He thought it would take him to a magical world but instead what he saw was the real world. Hatred and Power ruled the real world.
After the rude shock he realized what he was here for. His sheikh told him that everyone on the earth comes with a purpose. Ajju’s purpose was difficult and trying but he will have to fulfil it.
“You will have to wear many masks, sometimes the mask of an angel and at times the mask of a devil”
“O sheikh, you told me that everything in this world can be won by the good. Then why wear the mask of a devil.”
Sheikh had expected Ajju to ask the question
“Ajmal, you are still very young. That is why you ask these questions. Sometimes it is necessary to reach the destination and not think about the road. It will be these roads you will tread wearing the mask of the devil”
“How different is acting evil from being evil?”
“Like that of salt and sugar. They might look the same but are they?”
The sound of the brakes stopped Ajju from thinking. A small kid entered the bus with the newspapers while the bus was at a halt. He paid the kid for the newspaper and started reading it but his mind wandered back to many years ago.
“Why should I use violence as my weapon?”
“My son, everything is a weapon in this world. It depends on you, use it judiciously. You are the man of god and your job is to show others the way”
A newspaper report caught his eye.
“My son Ajmal, you show them the path to the almighty, you give them the gift of faith”
The headline said “The story of Sameer Marathe: His return to Faith”
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Footnotes:
I think this will be one of the longer posts of Blog-a-ton. Now that you are reading this I assume that you have read it ( Phew!!)...do let me know what you think about it.