The small wish list..

I picked up the folded paper from Tarun’s table and saw names of movies scribbled on it. I was about to trash it when he snatched the paper from my hand and thrust it in his pocket.

“What will you do with this stupid list”? I asked him, cleaning the mess on his table.

“It’s a list of those movies I wanna watch before I turn 25” replied Tarun seriously.

“Are you retiring post you turn 25?” I snapped back.

“There are so many things in life I wanna do. Its just a small wish list before 1/4^th of my life, so that I don’t crib for things I missed”.

I wanted to tell him how I had also made a wish list couple of years back. The only difference was that my wish list consisted of books to read and places to visit. However I didn’t say anything and smiled back at him.

His simple words had depth and lot of meaning in them.

Preeti has always been cribbing about being overweight. God save me whenever she goes for a diet plan. Thanks to internet that she came to know about GMD, an easy way to lose weight without working out. More than her, it was tough for me… (to chop kilos of fruits and vegetables and cook a quantity meant for 5 people. Trust me, it’s horrible!).

“I want to lose weight through GMD because I don’t have time to hit the gym .I want a new job which would leave me with some time for myself”.

Few months later…………

New, better job..more time for self.. joined gym…but……….

“This is not a good gym. I want a better one”. I silently prayed she dosen’t resort to GMD again.

And her wish list continues till date.

Akash wished, God wouldn't have snatched his wife to leave their 5 year old son alone in his company.

Rohit wished, he could earn more and improve his family’s financial condition. He wished for a decent job.

I wanted to write more, but running short of time…may be I see this in a form of a book some day. (Ah, another wish !!)

Lord make everybody’s wish list come to an end, may be, some day.

Untamed

There was heavy blood shed. Brutal murder. My heart went out to those who lost their lives. My eyes were flooded with tears and I was a bundle of wreck. My heart was bleeding to see them die one by one. The bodies of the helpless men lied in pieces all over. Fire, dust, blood, weapons lay as an aftermath of the war. I couldn’t do anything but shed tears silently. The soldiers sacrificed their lives for their country. India must have been so proud of the brave hearts who didn’t think for a second to take the bullet in their chest and fight the enemies just for the country! Hats off to the brave soldiers. But loss of lives was definitely an irreparable loss. I felt helpless and so incapable of saving the heroes. It was sad, scary and a heart rendering view. The lights were switched on and the crowd started moving toward the exit. My cheeks were still wet after the super hit movie “BORDER” ended.

She was shattered. She was in tears. I hugged her and she cried like a baby in my arms. People around us stared at us. The man who was responsible for this, kept apologizing, but it was useless to say sorry post the great loss. The damage was already done.  She kept looking at what she had lost with swollen tearful eyes.  It was painful to part with the most loveable and precious possession. After all it had taken 6 tedious years to grow her beautiful hair waist long! The hair dresser felt like a criminal, ready to be blown apart by Preeti, to have her hair cut shorter than waist length. Tears kept rolling down her eyes the whole day.

It was Astami, the 8^th day of Durga Puja in 2000. Mom, sis, my bro and I were heading towards the Pooja baari for the grand celebration, when suddenly my bro’s shoe broke and we returned home to get it changed. My Mom was struggling with Abhijit’s new pair of shoes while the door bell rang loud. I rushed to collect the telegram from the postman. Mom covered her face with her palms. Abhijit was too young to understand the reason behind the ladies of the family crying. I had been courageous and fought my tears back till I went to Dad’s shop to inform him of Naani’s demise. Mom was inconsolable. The telegram was clutched in her hand, and tears kept rolling down her eyes the whole day.

Divya returned to the hotel room while talking on the phone. She saw my red eyes and tear stained face. Instantly she came to know what was wrong. Disconnecting her phone immediately, she placed her hand on my shoulder and politely said “Don’t worry, I am there with you”. These consoling words of her made me feel weaker and lonelier. That day brings tears to my eyes even today. She tried to cheer me up and stayed with me the whole night. I felt alone probably for the first time. The thought, to live alone for the first time, had scared me. I touched dad’s feet to seek his blessings. The moment dad kept his hand on my head, my heart almost skipped a beat. I had to live away from my family, manage everything on my own and “grow up”. Dad left me in Divya’s company, my closest friend now and my favorite roommie. I returned to the hotel room and cried for hours missing my family and feeling lost. It was my first job in Delhi and the first moment when I had to be away from my family. Tears kept rolling down my cheeks till Divya came.

Tears….Untamed tears…!!!

A lost friend

He would have been a grown up man today, probably working in an MNC or running his business. Or may be pursuing some professional course -of his choice, of something which he liked. But what did he like? What was he passionate about? Let me think….uh!! to hard to recollect..it was a long time back that I remember anything apart from his shy smile and dark eyes. And we were too young .  Students of second standard, Prashant and I were classmates and next door neighbours. I was a frequent visitor to his place to catch up on my missed class work or to play with him at times. His younger bro Ankush and a cute sister Gudiya were adorable siblings. Prashant was a quiet child and very shy, to such an extent that he refused to go to anybody’s place for school work or notes. His mom used to call me to their place and that’s how I became a regular visit at Prashant Singhal’s place. We became best childhood buddies , used to play often and do our home work together.

Singhals were a happy family. A happy go lucky family of our neighbourhood, as a child I had always seen them smiling and enjoying each moment of their lives till that unlucky day. I still don’t remember  the date..after all I was young. So was Prashant. I have the faded picture of his in my mind when I had saw him last evening. Well, actually the last evening of his life.

He loved cycling. That evening too, he went on his bicycle to enjoy the evening. (I think now I recollect one of his hobbies-Cycling. But how irrelevant is it now, I suppose). His grand mom felt quite restless when he did not return till late. His mom went crying to the police station with his dad to report Prashant’s missing from the place where he had gone cycling. The whole night saw a tensed Singhal family, probably for the first time. I remember my mom worrying about him and peeping into the Singhal house every fifteen minutes. Prashant’s father was frantically wandering on the streets with his scooter to search for his eldest son. It was a terrible night for everybody.

And the news arrived, the next morning..of what I guess most of them had anticipated. Prashant’s body was fished out from the manhole right outside the construction site of their new house. Time of death- late evening.Last remains- his slipper in the right foot and his cycle outside the house. What pushed him to his death was the reason that he was not accompanied by anybody to the construction site where the open manhole invited his death while he was jumping over it, all by himself. Days passed mourning and wailing in the Singhal house grieving over the irreparable loss of the eldest son of the family.

Soon, things started turning normal and Prashant started fading from the memories of everybody. Yesterday when I was talking to my brother Tarun (catch him at tarunisblogging.blogspot.com) he sounded upset. He too was grieving over the loss of his facebook friend whom he had befriended three days ago. Consoling him, suddenly Prashant’s thought struck me. Had he been alive, he would have been somebody like me.

I can’t say I miss Prashant, however I do feel that every human life is meant for something, lives for a purpose and creates a void after he leaves. I was too young to feel that void, but I do feel bad that he left the world much before he could see anything.

God bless your soul my friend.

This was an ode to Prashant Singhal.

Golden Memories-Bajaj Chetak losing its hold

“BULAND BHARAT KI BULAND TASVEER—HAMARA BAJAJ” was the popular slogan of Bajaj scooters which were a roaring success all over India. These lines make me nostalgic of my childhood days I spent taking rides on my dad’s Bajaj Chetak. Undoubtedly Old is gold and those memories are cherished forever.

Chetak happens to be special for my family in a special manner. Soon after my parents were married, in 1983, the registration papers of Bajaj Chetak arrived. My mom was termed lucky for the family and so was the scooter. Dad tried teaching mom driving the scooter, but it was too bulky for her to handle. She tore her saree while learning to ride Chetak. However she never let Chetak go.

I have the fond memories of dad dropping me to school on Chetak and picking me in afternoon. When I started growing I used to go walking yet remained dependant on Chetak during rainy days, waiting for dad to pick me from the school gate.

When my younger sister was born, dad got our Bajaj Chetak painted in dark green. Every major occasion in family would have been incomplete without Hamara Bajaj. Be it picking up somebody from some place, be it doing a small errand from the local market or be it any urgency, Chetak was present in every hour of need. Like a silent spectator and a strong supporter it never failed us. My dad was rushed to the hospital on the same scooter minutes before he met a stroke. How do I thank Bajaj Chetak for its support?

Its Performance made it outstanding and we were the proud satisfied consumers.

Mussorie, Sahastradhara, Rishikesh are few places at a distance of few kilometres from my home town Dehradun. We used to go for picnics there every summer vacations and dad used to prefer riding Bajaj Chetak to these places. My dad’s best friend Ashok Uncle also owned a Bajaj Scooter and he used to join us for picnics. My sis and I used to sit with Ashok uncle on his scooter and Mom of course with Dad. Those long rides to the picnics spots were so much fun through the green valleys and natural beauty. Not even once did Bajaj break down or cause a bit of a trouble!!

Bajaj Chetak had captured a major market share in India and it became a must have for every middle class Indian. Affordable prices, powerful engine, world class mileage made Bajaj Chetak class apart. Later followed Bajaj bikes keeping in mind the new generation. Yes agreed, the young MD must have studied and envisaged a huge profitable market for bikes, however there is still a section of people who identify themselves with Bajaj scooter. It will be unfair to separate them from the identity and something close to their hearts. Production of Bajaj scooter, I suggest, should not be ceased, rather can be streamlined or decreased.

UTTERLY BUTTERLY DELICIOUS-AMUL and BULAND BHARAT KI BULAND TASVEER—HAMARA BAJAJ were short listed for Guinness book of world records for the longest running ad campaigns. But Bajaj lost it to Amul pertaining to the changes they made.

When I say Old is gold, people would say that nobody sticks to typewriters or gramophones these days. However I would like to state that these old items of the past are of an aesthetic value. These unique items with golden memories should be kept alive with the common man than in museums instead.

23 Dec,2009 my second winning blog in indyarocks blog contest