Book Review: Of course I love you, till I find someone better

Authors: Durjoy Datta and Manvi Ahuja

“Of course I love you...” is a story set in Delhi around the protagonist Debashish Roy, a boy next door and an engineering student of a prestigious college.  The not so bright Deb claims to have been in relationships for a number of times but never found “True Love”. Given his age, he is immature to understand true love or probably grows sick of relationships soon and longs to look for somebody new. While dating a cute Smriti, from a Medical College and satisfying his physical desires, he meets a bold and beautiful Avantika. Soon he finds himself getting attracted to her. In pursuit of true love this time, he ignores everything in his life, namely his best friends, Smriti, studies, CAT, job and makes life messy for himself, with Avantika leaving him towards the end of the story. Read on further to find out how he pulls himself out of the muddle which he had created for himself.

The story is not complicated, and you might just want to go with the flow. Lock your grey matter somewhere and take off your thinking caps, else it may annoy you. The authors have made an effort to pen down stories of college days, affairs, late night parties, behaviour of hostilities, so called relationships and the never-ending list of the youth’s desires, which may seem to be a replica of everybody’s college life. The climax will make you smile, for two reasons. One, it’s a happy ending like in Bollywood movies. Two, the tedious book ends, without creating a pressure on your minds!

The language is candid; most of the lingos are often heard in Delhi campuses. Since this is a book for the youth, or let’s say college teens, they would feel close to it.  Deb and Avantika look like “Today’s youth”.

Seems, all engineers are trying to clone Chetan Bhagat. Not even once do they think that excess of everything is bad.  At an affordable price of INR 100, this book claims to be a best seller with over 4,00,000 copies sold.

Read this novel if you don’t have anything else to read or if you think you miss your college days. Though the freshness is missing, yet a light hearted story would not be bad to kill few hours of your idle time.

Rating: 2/5

About the Authors: Durjoy Datta is a young alumnus of Delhi College of Engineering and has penned other novels like “Now that you are rich” and “She Broke Up, I Didn’t! ...I Just Kissed Someone Else!” for the youth. He has been critically appreciated for his dark humor and lucid writing style.

Manvi Ahuja:  The pretty Co Author of this best seller, is a graduate from SRCC and post graduated from IIM K.

Book review- I too had a love story

Four close friends meet few years after college life and discuss about their future for the first time. No, it wasn’t job, but about getting married to settle down. Influenced by this discussion, the protagonist Ravin registers on a matrimony portal and finds his soul mate Khushi. She is a pretty girl from a middle class family residing in Faridabad who has strong values imbedded within her. Khushi’s good looks and mature, polite behavior impresses Ravin. The latter is an IT professional at Infosys, who was brought up in a small town in Orissa and currently stays away from his parents in Bhubaneswar. The similarity in their respective professions and personal interests instantly creates a magical bonding between them. They gradually fall in love without having met each other. The love story sails smoothly, crossing the limits of caste, religion or distance. They decide to get married in the company of their supportive parents by their side, until one day, when an unfortunate incident changes their lives.

This is the story of “I too had a love story” by Ravinder Singh, another Engineering graduate and a budding writer. This novel was released in Dec 2008 and made its way to the hearts of the youth. The touching novel is still on the shelves and liked by many.

The book takes you through a series of sweet love and family bonding. But at the same time, it talks about the fact that all love stories do not have a happy ending. The title of the book is catchy enough to create interest in the readers. It justifies the love tale with a tragic finish. If you are in love or have been through a “Puppy love” affair, this would certainly appeal to you.

The simple everyday language void of complicated jargons adds to the flow of reading. Despite the fact that the story is conventional and predictable, with nothing new to offer, yet people with love in their hearts, would love it. There are neither twists n turns nor suspense to reveal, however, the feeling to be in love, the urge to hear each other’s voice, talking till late night, hurting unintentionally to apologize later, showing concern and whispering sweet nothings, dreaming to be together, making marriage plans and so on, pulls you into the depth of love. Even if you don’t like the story, you would definitely like the feeling to be in love.  You might find your eyes welled up at the end of the story.

Ravinder Singh might have written his own story which has been heard many times. “I too had a love story” is not a master piece of literary work; neither sets an example for new writers. However, the efforts to write such a sort are appreciated. Recommended as a one-time read, it is not for thriller fans certainly.

Book price: INR 100

Publisher: Srishti Publishers & Distributors

Riskesh adventure

“Mountain Dew cannot help me overcome my fear ”! I thought, standing atop twenty feet cliff above water. According to the sources, the river bed was eighty feet deep. Rahul, my team mate, who had jumped in before me, screamed from the river asking me to dive in. The thought of scaling hundred feet, scared me to hell and I stood unmoved staring at others who took less than five seconds to jump into the shimmering green water of the river. I wasn’t there to promote Mountain Dew or any adventure movie. I was there on an adventure trip to Rishikesh with a group of twenty. While river rafting was so much fun and thrilling, cliff jumping was equally scary.

Ready for the punge

On the white sand

I had visited Rishikesh many times with my family since childhood.(The perks of birth place Uttarakhand) However, this was the first adventure trip I had dared for. At last, my dream of white water rafting materialized. I have never been scared of water despite not knowing swimming. But trust me, when I boarded the raft wearing a helmet and safety jacket, I started feeling butterflies in my stomach. Our 20-something instructor, Rana, made us learn the commands to follow while rafting. Coordination is the most important thing while rowing and one should not panic even if he falls off the raft or gets caught in a rapid (That’s what the river currents are called). Wall, double trouble, center danger, roller coaster, golf course – These are the names of the rapids which we went through, in the 21 km stretch, with roller coaster& golf course being the riskiest and highest rapids.

Rana asked us to jump and I took less than a second to jump into ice cold water. Swimming with the current along the raft, is an out of the world experience. I was more than happy to enjoy the adventure.

Thankfully, our raft didn’t flip over, unlike our neighbor raft, which threw people in a rapid after losing control & coordination. No casualties reported of course (No body drowns because of the safety jackets you are made to wear). When a rapid hits the raft and inclines it at 45 degree, you either feel scared or excited. I felt something else. The roaring high waves lashing against our raft, reminded me of Samudra Manthan and I felt like a descendant of Bear Grylls. (Though I know I don’t even match to one-tenth of his skills, but imagination has no bounds you see! Hehe!)   The excitement and the thrill concentrated in my stomach somewhere and “Aawesomee!!”, I screamed my lungs out. The view was breathtaking with the waves trying to engulf us. We braved all the rapids and carried home a lifetime memorable experience.

My left thumb and shoulder are now in pain due to aggressive continuous rowing. I looked at my body bruises later at night during bonfire.

Skillful rafting however didn’t give me the courage for cliff jumping. I regret not overcoming that fear though being the only girl to volunteer at the 20 feet cliff. Darr k aagey jeet hai? Well I guess yes.

The much needed break

Up from the bed at 9 am, a late breakfast by 11 am, watching TV  or reading novels, doesn’t matter the time of taking a shower, lazily have lunch and a quick nap till 6pm may be, kill time by sending texts to friends or disturbing those who might lend ears to a bored-to-death person, and wait to sleep again..

No……this is not the kind of life I wanted! Nevertheless, what else can a person do with an injured knee and strict instructions from the doc to avoid any strain on knee, lifting weight or climb stairs? I have been on bed rest for more than 2 weeks precisely; and trust me, it’s killing me now! I mean, how much time one can spend sleeping the whole day? I fear getting bed rashes if my knee does not recover soon.

The worst part is I have to skip gym. O God! I’d look like a balloon in absence of exercise or any physical activity. Boy! How much I miss those works outs at the gym!  All my hard work has gone down the drains now. People suggest me Yoga, but my lazy bones refuse to wake up early morning. Imagine, reading novels becomes a target and then you realize excess of anything is bad. When your eyes hurt to look at the TV or computer screen, naturally you cut down on the number of hours for “Facebooking” or chatting.  Within a few days, I grew tired of painting too.

              

 

My restless mind started seeking something for inner peace and I found myself testing my culinary skills in the kitchen. It was a look alike of Bengan Bharta one day, not even close to the original taste, and thankfully a successful attempt to cook Cheela the other day.  “Enough of Experiments”, my super lazy bones warned me, observing the ruined kitchen. Yet, I can’t even resort to a short cut dinner with Maggi, owing to my injured knee, which demands a good healthy diet. Now where on Earth does it exist when you stay alone?

The number of movies I have watched in this month or the frequency with which I have sneaked out of house ignoring my doc’s advice (to watch plays, be with my lovely dogs or meet friends) is considerable. Surely, you get that mental peace and much needed break from monotony, if not “That diet” at least.

Either, I wish I could be with my family in my hometown or I had never hurt my knee like this. This is not a good idea of a much-needed break, really!

Paan Singh Tomar

Released on 3rd Feb

This is a movie inspired by a real life character Paan Singh Tomar, a soldier of Indian army and an international athlete who turns a dacoit under forced circumstances. Don't watch Paan Singh Tomar if you are in search of a philosophical story. Watch it only for performance, specially by the prodigal, the brilliant Irrfan Khan. Directed by Tigmanshu Dhulia, Paan Singh Tomar showcases the sad plight of the unsung sportsmen in India.

The story runs back to 1950 when Paan Singh Tomar was recruited in the Indian Army and had a peaceful happy family. A good stamina and even better appetite opens a new avenue for him- Athletics, where he excels and gets international fame. However, family disputes and deep sense of helplessness forces the balanced Tomar to resort to violence. Tomar becomes the most wanted Bandit of Chambal. His claim; that the country which did not care when he represented India at an International platform, suddenly seems to recognize him when he has picked up a gun; is sadly a true scenario. Paan Singh Tomar might be a wake up call for those authorities as well who neglect our sportsmen and ultimately the sport loses its grace.

Based on strong research and facts, the movie ends with the names of those who died of poverty and hunger despite contributing much to their fields.

It is Irfan Khan's power packed delivery which keeps you engrossed through out the movie. Strong dialogues sway you away and so does the screenplay. Sets of the movie and the background score happen to be very apt and the action scenes have been quite well shot.

Every character in their small roles has justified his presence in the movie. Be it the coach played by Rajendra Gupta or Tomar's wife essayed by Mahie Gill. Irfan carries the movie on his shoulders spectacularly and this one can fetch him an award.

A must watch for those who have been waiting for something substantial. Paan Singh Tomar is your food for thought

The forgotten real moments

If I dive deep into time for the “real” experiences I have had, there are countless of them from my childhood which are quite fresh and crystal clear in my mind. And it was not only my parents but my school as well, to contribute to the noble cause.

Unlike the modern times where kids are glued to computers & video games, we were forced to go outdoors. Our exposure to computer/TV/indoor games was limited to a maximum time of an hour. At school, P.T classes were given more weight-age than computer. I still remember my summer vacations projects (popularly known as holiday homework) wherein the major tasks were to collect seasonal twigs or leaves and stick the dried ones on a scrap book. I am not surprised to see my young cousins surfing the images on internet and finish the holiday homework instantly.  However, they would never get the feel of visiting natural places and seeing the seasonal/rare twigs for real. They would probably never know how is it to climb trees or to run in open farms.  Surely, they are missing the real experience which will be rare times ahead.

I hail from the beautiful town of Dehradun where natural beauty and surroundings were abundant. My family never had to book holiday packages for exotic locations for picnics. I have been brought up amidst real things; to name a few are the Sulphur Water spring of Sahastradhara, the snow clad hills of Mussorie, the green Eucalyptus belt of Dehradun, heavy rainfall of Autumns and the list goes on. Water parks were unheard of, so were play houses for kids. I have enjoyed the real moments which today’s generation kids are not far from.

Talking about “real” things, food cannot be left behind. Tinned/packed foods were a strict No- No! The practice of squeezing out Sweet Lime juice manually from the small portable juicer was a common sight during summer afternoons. This was when we kids refused to chew the lime pieces.

My siblings and I grew up in the lap of nature surrounded by “real” luxuries. Be it the morning walks in parks or seeing the sunrise/sunset every day, we have had our best share during childhood. Changing life styles and modern technology brings everything close to you in a click of a mouse. But how would a child of today’s generation know what does a vegetable or fruit market look like? Accompanying grandparents to the market and seeing them pick out the best fruits would seem strange to a kid today who has either has never been any where else but air conditioned supermarkets or has ordered groceries over the phone!

Vegetable market visit with kids

Even writing letters have lost their charm in the world of emails/sms. Sending festive greeting cards and letters to distant relatives were the most exciting part of “real” growing up experience. Our school syllabus covered letter writing those days. I wonder whether they have switched to “Sms/ Mail writing” now? From bed time stories of grandma to painting sceneries on canvas while looking at them, the real moments are inseparable from my memories. Sadly, technology and virtual world has overshadowed those experiences these days.

Written for Indibogger Kissan Real Moments.

Second image source- www.outlookindia.com

Foster home

I spotted him on the road one evening, cold, hungry and shivering in the chilling winter , while I was returning home from work. The first thing which struck my mind was that his mom must be around. To my surprise she wasn't. I wondered weather he lost his way or was abandoned by his mother? How could a mother do that, if latter was the case. Finding nobody around him, I did not have the heart to leave him on the road to die. I brought him home.

My heart was pounding loud with the thought of bringing him home as he was too young and I had no idea what to do next. My room mate was super excited to see him. I was happy to see the acceptance and joy on her face. She instantly named him Minchi. I wanted to keep Minchi but I know my constraints. Staying at work for 10 hours would leave me no time for Minchi and to add to it, he was too young to be left alone at home. I decided to give him away to the PFA cum dog shelter on weekend.

            

                           

     

I will cherish his short stay with me always and never forget the way he slept on my shoulder. He is hardly few weeks old and needs full attention which I would be unable to give. Feeling sad to part with Minchi, but atleast he will have a home now, a foster home in PFA, if not mine.

Bliss through my diary

July 2009 was the first time when I had started Diary writing. Today when I read the old pages which I had written, it feels...I dont know, a mixed bag of emotions I guess. Life is a roller coaster ride and one feels the highs and lows of the same. When you look back into time, you can judge ,what have you gained or lost or how much mature have you turned. This habit of writing diary is like a leaving footprints on sands of time, testifying how much have you been through. You cannot lie to urself in your own Diary at least. I looked into the mirror again after a long time through my diary and kept smiling throughout the pages :-)

Weekend trips to places around Delhi, Festivals break to meet family, parting with close people and coming together for reunion, spending time with room mate or siblings, bad mood after a quarrel with neighbour, week’s efforts for shopping to attend weddings, jumping red lights and smiling with victory, bugging water problem at home, bunking office, a fractured foot prior to an event, long calls with dear ones, praying for results of a friend, hanging out late night at eating joints and complain of stomach aches next day, failed attempt to prepare new dish in the kitchen, crying in someone else’s pain, watching a favourite movie the Nth time, playing with strays, searching for new jobs… and so on…..

Life has so much to offer and it’s a new experience everyday. Each expression is what we see after how life treats us and vice versa of course. It’s a pure joy and blessing of life.
I am sure there is a never ending list for the above. Feel the joy live life with a smile irrespective of your problems. Problems are just an add-on or lets say a testing pahase. If life gives you many reasons to cry, show life the reasons to smile.

Dedicated to my diary which I confide in always. It has stored precious moments for me tirelessly.

FLYING HIGH: A TRADITION FAST FADING

Kite flying is an art, which was been practised since ages in India. The art was initially an entertainment that later took the form of competition and was quite popular among children. Not only the rural but the urban places too saw kite flying as a sport, especially during occasions like Raksha Bandhan or Janamashtmi.  With the changes in lifestyle, the art of Kite flying started losing its fame. Lack of time and open spaces,  contributed towards a major decline in this graceful art. Left with few buyers, the market of kite makers also started shrinking.

A Kite Flying fest was organized for two days i.e. 12 and 13 Nov’11 at India Gate lawns. An initiative like this has helped many people relive that golden time when flying kites was the best pass time.

 The sky above India gate lawns was dotted with colourful kites on the first day of the fest i.e. Saturday, 12 Nov’11 post noon to dusk. Kites of unusual shapes and sizes soaring high in the sky was a visual treat. Organized by Delhi Tourism in association with Shahjahanabad Redevelopment Corporation and the Department of Art and Culture, this was an effort to revive the culture, which has been losing its popularity. Inaugurated by Chief Minister Sheila Dixit, she set the adrenaline gushing for all kite flyers by flying a colourful string of kites. The 20-foot string attached to the ground marked the festival symbolically.

Ranging from variety of colours and shapes, one could see a giant Hanuman kite to a Hercules size Spiderman Kite. There were stalls from various states to display the kites of their culture. The beautiful and shining kites of Jodhpur, Rajasthan symbolized the colourful state while kites at the UP stall had pictures of the Royal History depicted on them. Every kite had a message.

Spiderman Kite

Hanuman Kite

Charlie Kite

 The trees of India Gate lawns, were beautifully decorated with the strings of the kites (Firki) and the audience kept busy with passionately flying the kites in the open ground. Magic show organized for children was a major attraction in the evening. Delhi tourism had a stall distributing free reading material about the glorious History of the capital and the monuments standing tall with pride.

Cultural events trying to preserve our fading History is definitely a well-appreciated effort. We look forward to many such events which bind people to the fading past and rivet them to the roots. This was the first time ever, Delhi’s own Kite flying festival.

Love thy hair? I do..

From long to shoulder length and curly to straight, my black locks have withstood change of places, weather, pollution, tension and many such blows with time. I was quite fond of my long hair since my childhood. I kept them long until I came to Delhi for job.

With a sudden change of place and water, my curly locks gave away their charm for some time. They turned brittle and dry. To add to it, negligence towards my health resulted in hair fall. My comb often used to find my precious hair entangled in its teeth. Breaking the teeth would not have helped me, so I decided to chop off my long hair to shoulder length. Trust me, it worked well! I had read somewhere that if you get a regular haircut, hair grows better and healthy. You also get rid of split ends. My curly hair started bouncing with the new Razor hairstyle that I had donned those days. A regular oil massage helped revitalizing my hair gradually.

It was difficult for me to leave my hair open all the time since Delhi is extremely warm during summers and I was in a travelling job. Oops- marketing I mean. Hopping between cities and facing pollution/ dust/ different weather conditions, was a challenge for my hair every day. I switched to bun. Sounds funny but that really helped my hair to battle the odd conditions around. Tying a piece of cloth on my head protected it from dust and sun. However, that was temporary arrangement. I needed to find a long-term solution. My hair had outgrown the shoulder length Razor cut. I changed to Step Cut, as suggested my hair stylist. Steps looked great on my curly hair and leaving them open dint look bad at all. My hectic schedule at work left me with no time for oil massage or hair cut. The hair stylist asked me to change my shampoo and conditioner.

The little piece of advice worked wonders. I am thankful to Shaheen (my hair stylist) for that enlightened guidance. I could feel the difference in one wash when I used Dove for the first time. My hair turned soft and retained the shine gradually. The hair fall problem too, reduced largely. Yeah, there is always a first time and I thought of straightening my priceless curls for the first time that had grown longer until them. I loved my straight hair and I could not stop looking at them in the mirror. It was a temporary arrangement again. I fear that a permanent straightening will finish the volume, which my hair has.

 

I get a hair spa done every month. you know what, If you care for your hair, they care for you. Your hair don’t only make you look good, but also add charms to your personality. The kind of hairstyle you keep displays your mood and boosts your confidence. Change your hairstyle on occasions and see the different colors of your persona. A stroke on your head makes you feel good, running your fingers through your hair helps releases your tensions, isn’t it? Soft, caressing and lovely, that’s how your healthy hair should be while they should be cared for.

(AS A PART OF CONTEST FOR INBLOGGER)

Crossroads

“I want to take the roads less travelled,

Let me breathe some air unraveled,

I want to harbor the greener pastures,

Less thorny, more flowered”.

Sanjeev left the note on his table, packed his bags and left his home in the dark. The train from Ghaziabad station was scheduled for departure at 10:00 pm.

Sanjeev Gupta, popularly known as Sanju, was  a young dynamic graduate who did not want to carry on with the monotonous job for his entire life. He was least interested in his family retail business. Often when his dad left the shop under his supervision, Sanju attracted a huge crowd while performing mimicry, stand up comedy and various other acts. People knew him as a talented artist while his dad disliked his bend towards such stupid acts. Sanjeev’s mother was a quiet housewife who never raised her voice in front of her husband. Caught in a wrong marriage, the poor lady never complained of the tyranny she faced from her husband. A drunk Gupta used to beat his wife during her pregnancy too. Sanjeev’s younger sister Parul unfortunately was born with hearing impassiveness. Mr. Gupta was an unhappy man, complaining and beating his kids and hurling abuses at his wife each day. Nobody knew the reason of his behaviour since the Gupta family was an upper middle class family without any financial constraints.

Gupta’s misbehaviour grew unbearable with every passing day. He hated Sanju’s extra curricular activities and wanted him to join the family business. Once when Sanjeev mentioned his interest to take up theatre art as his career, Gupta unleashed his belt. Since that day Sanjeev’s desires grew with leaps and bounds to join acting school and try his luck in Mumbai. Kapoor sir, the dramatics instructor at Sanjeev’s college complimented & encouraged him to build his career in theatre, seeing his love & talent for this art.

……………………………………………………………

The train headed towards Mumbai.  He was confident but not too sure of what was there in store for him. He was ambitious but had no clue where to begin. He was talented but without any support in the new city. From the quiet lanes of Ghaziabad he was in a city which never sleeps. Sanju’s struggle began since the moment he landed in Mumbai, searching for something substantial, for something concrete.

…………………………………………

Sanju boarded the train but his mind was still at home, worrying about his mother and Parul. Was he being too selfish? He wondered what they do alone without him. His heart beating loudly and heavily. He felt he had taken a wrong decision. The train whistle blew loud and his heart pounded louder. The train jerked and moved slowly. Sanju jumped out of the train and rushed home.The sight of a drunk abusing father was definitely not pleasant, but at least he knew that his Mother and Sister were safe in his presence.

Sanju started helping his father in the business next day onwards.

WHICH ONE OF THESE ENDINGS DO YOU THINK IS MORE APPROPRIATE? SANJU FOLLOWING HIS DREAMS OR SUCCUMBING TO FAMILY PRESSURES?

Cross fire!!

The employee was caught taking a nap at work,

Boss said "See me in my cabin you jerk!"

"Are you not serious for your job"?

asked the boss to the poor guy,

who slogged himself everyday and was usually quite shy.

 

 

"Eight files are still pending, complete them at any cost,

else I hire a better employee and you can get lost!"

The employee snapped back "Fire me and pay me the dues right now,

I wont work for peanuts anymore, I take a wow"

 

Boss stared at the employee in disbelief,

thinking it might be his nightmare, 

Employee added "Everybody hates this job, Do you even care?

 

Labors are better than us I feel,

Eight hours of sleep is all I wanted,

No overtime for the extra hours we work,

these files make this office haunted!

 

You deducted my salary for my sick leaves,

you need a medical treatment I guess.

I broke up with my girlfriend because of you,

My life a silly mess!!!

 

For everybody it was a holiday,

but I was preparing your presentation,

why do you think I should work you,

when you are the source of my frustration?

 

Cost of living has gone sky high,

it has become impossible to survive,

work life balance has screwed big time 

I wonder Do i have my own life?

 

Terminate my services and relieve me from this prison,

because I want to live a normal life,

and there couldn't be a better reason"

 

The employee walked  out of the boss's cabin,

slammed shut the office door,

he smiled after the relief he got,

his eyes were no more sore :-)

 

Wrote this short poem while tossing on the bed waiting for electricity on a warm summer night.

The last remains

The stuffed suitcase was difficult to close.(She still does not have an almirah after so many years. She is ok without one anyway). She started pulling out the crumbled clothes which were shoved in the suitcase without washing since a week. Neha barely got time to wash her clothes during weekends. She thought of cleaning the suitcase at the same time.

Out came the red shirt which she had not worn since long.

A blue T-Shirt which had faded in patches.

An orange kurta that dint fit her anymore, yet she refused to throw it away because it was gifted by Megha, her dear younger sister.

A pair of worn out black jeans, shoved in the suitcase waiting for repair.

“Discard!” sighed Neha and piled the discarded clothes. Another pile was taken out to be washed. Neha dusted the edges of her suitcase. Slowly she pulled out all other clothes from the pale blue V.I.P suitcase which her mother had given to her when she first came to Jaipur from Patna. Light weight suitcases were not available during those days. A shy Neha had come to the pink city in search of a career as Patna was void of jobs then. A small village was where she was born and brought up and obtained high education despite pressures of getting married after she graduated from 12th standard. She shifted from one rented room to another in the span of her five years tenure in Jaipur. The suitcase too shifted with her. It was her mother’s wedding gift, so she could not have discarded it anyway. Neha thought of changing the newspaper laid at the bottom of the suitcase under the pile of clothes. It was dated way back in the year 2003. It had turned yellow and old with age. (It couldn’t have been older than the suitcase). She pulled out the torn newspaper from the suitcase to replace it with a fresh glossy newspaper. A bundle of envelopes and papers lied silently under the newspaper, resting peacefully & untouched. Were they not cared for or preserved carefully? Her hands reached for the stack of papers and she unfolded them one by one.

------------------------------------------

30 Sept, 2003

Dear Di,

Hope this letter finds you in the best of your health and spirits. I have soooooooo much to talk about. I am wondering where to start from 

First of all note my new yahoo id megha2001@yahoo.com. Now we can chat whenever we get time to come online. I am soo happy! But the only problem is that internet café is a little far from our house and Baba does not allow me to go there alone. Had u been here, he would have never stopped me.

Mmmmmmmmm I miss u, sachhi !! By the way did the kurta fit u? I made it as per your choice, v shape neck and full sleeves, and its ur fav colour! I am almost through with the hobby classes, likely to get the diploma within 2 weeks. Now I can make good embroidery too. U shud see the cushion covers I made. Maa is full of praise for me  :-) And a piece of good news now! A new Mc Donalds outlet has been inaugurated in the city. We will have a treat when u come next time and m sure u will love it. I m quite excited about it. Rest all is well here. Baba has recovered completely from the stroke. Now he goes for a morning walk daily. Good na? I will take Maa also for morning walks soon. But u know how shy she is.

Hope u r taking care of ur health too. Maa keeps reminding u to have fruits. I will be joining u within few years and become a famous fashion designer. And I stepped on the threshold of my dream only because of ur support. I love u a lot.mmmmuuuaaah!!

Chalo, I wont make the letter lengthy now. U better take care of urself and don’t worry about us. We all are fine and want to see you soon.

Loads of love,

Ur Meghu

---------------------

Neha smiled. She picked up the next letter.

18 Oct,2003

Dear Di,

Hi! How are you? We are fine here. Don’t get worried about me yaar. I will recover soon. It was just a stomach ache, that’s it.

I have designed a beautiful skirt for u.(Maa wont allow u to wear it here. U take it with u in Jaipur ok?) U remember Tanu, my classmate? She is getting married next month! My god, I cant imagine how cud she agree to get married so early? Shez just 18!! I was shocked. She has no aim in her life or what? Bloody aimless female! I will become a fashion designer and make everybody feel proud of me one day.

Ok lets change the topic. Did maa tell u that we would get our house painted this Diwali? I want my room pink in colour :-) ok don’t frown, we can get it done half pink and half orange hehe!

Baba bought a new kitten for the godown. The kitten is sooooooo cute and fluffy. I have named it snowhite. It’s a smart kitten di. Its killed so many rats of the godown. I will mail u its pictures wen I go to the café next.

Maa went to a pandit to show ur kundali. He said that marriage is still not on the cards. I was quite relieved to hear that. U deserve more in ur life yaar. I am happy that u studied and went out of this small place. I will do the same. My exams are due next month. I will crack the entrance exams, wish me good luck. Love

Urs MEGHU

.......................................................................................

2 Dec,2003

Hi Di,

Dint get time to write since a long time. Sorry for that.

We all missed u a lot during Diwali. Ma was cribbing that I mess up more than helping her. Hehehe! How perfect are u, I realized then! We are incomplete without u yaar. I know it was difficult for you to take leaves since u recently joined office. Its difficult to make Maa understand though.

Hey, we got our house painted before Diwali, and guess what, our room has been painted in ur fav colour. Now come on, thank me :-) I wish I could say all this to over the phone, but u know how high the STD call rates are na.

Snow white has grown bigger and cuter than before. Lovely cat it is. Well, Maa must have told u everything. I am ashamed of myself Di. I wanted to appear for the entrance exams this time. I was so well prepared. But that stomach ache was so severe that I couldn’t bear the pain. Doc said that it was only gas. Maa is getting worried unnecessarily. The ultrasound reports will arrive within next few days. So till next year of entrance exams again, I asked baba to get me enrolled in B.A correspondence from IGNOU. Good idea yeah?

U know, Ravi Uncle has been paralysed waist down. Poor uncle, he’ll never walk on his own now. Aunty is a very strong lady. She did not loose her courage at all. She has started working in a school and supporting her family. Maa often visits them with cooked food. I feel sorry for Ravi uncle. His kids are so young ya. But hats off to auntie for being so brave. Nobody in the neighborhood is as bold as her.

Hey Di, whts ur plan for new year? If u can manage leaves then, please come na. Spent Diwali without you, don’t want to spend New year without you. U r the jaan of our family, u know that. I miss sleeping with u. Pillows cant fill the empty portion of our bed. Often I wake up with a jerk thinking how much I miss cuddling you. Our room is half empty, half lively, our house is misses ur aura, ur noble presence. Now when the room is painted orange, it reminds me of u every second.

Ok I gotta sleep now. Feeling tired. U please take care and don’t worry about me.

Love u loads,

Meghu

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2 Feb,2004

Dear Di,

Hey! How have u been my sweety pie?

My medicines were very strong and I feel drowsy all the time. I hate the taste. But I am sure I will recover soon. Ulcer does not last for long na. Afterall I have been punished for eating excess spicy food. I recall you scolding me for eating spicy without limit. I am sorry I should have listened to you then. Maa tries to keep the room infection free, so every thing has been washed all over again. I have to eat boiled food, less salty no spicy. I am not allowed to meet Snowhite too. That bad. U ask Maa to let me go out of the house atleast. She will listen to you.

These days I am reading all the Sydney Sheldon novels u had left here. Now I find them interesting. He writes well seriously. But I don’t like to be confined to my room ya. It feels like I am imprisoned. I cant stitch or make embroideries. Anyway, Ma told me that you went to Ajmer? Kooooool….I will go with u next time. Heard a lot about that place. Let me recover once, then I will surely visit Jaipur and be with u.

Next Month u will complete 6 months na? U make us feel proud of u always. Baba never stops praising u in any social gathering. We love u all. Accha u know about Kaku di’s marriage na? Its in Kolkata in December and we all have to go, else Kaku di will be very upset. So apply for leaves in advance ok? And there is a surprise which I could not keep to myself. Baba will buy me a mobile phone as soon as I recover. Great na? Then we will chat and sms on mobiles instead of writing these long letters.

I hope I dint make it long this time. Will write again soon. M wondering hu will post this letter?

Anyway, love u love love.

Meghu

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Tears swelled up in Neha’s eyes after reading Megha's last letter. An undetected cancer  led to a wrong treatment and prolonged illness. Neha pulled the orange kurta close to herself. It smelled of Mehga, her presence, her full of life attitude, her smile, her last gift for Neha, whom she loved the most. Megha, who lost her life at a young age leaving her ambitions unfulfilled gave hopes to everyone, to live each day and smile even in the toughest times. Neha  quickly entered the bathroom to wash the pile of clothes.

She kept her promise. She did not cry. The orange kurta was put back in the suitcase with great care. And the letters one by one.

The last remains preserved again, carefully.

Thanks Giving

Was going through the U.S list of holidays, when I came across “Thanks Giving Day”. I love the U.S Culture of exchanging gifts and presents for this day to say thanks to people. I do not how much importance would this day hold in India if added in the Indian Calendar, but I am sure of the popularity, at least among the youth.

We usually exchange gifts to our near and dear ones, friends, business alliances to thank them for their presence, for the times they helped, for their business partnership so to make the bonds stronger. Well, on the same note, India has many occasions for celebrations to make their bonds stronger. Even I would like to thank my friends and known ones for being a part of my life and for bringing smiles to my life and helping me in every possible manner.

But wandering in the lanes of my memories, I would not forget thanking those who made a big difference in my life, without having known me at all. Their presence affected me greatly and definitely made a huge impact on me. It would not be untrue if I said that had those unknown people not extended their helping hands to me, I wonder what would I have faced, or probably I would not have been what I am today.

I never forget the day of 15^th July,2006 which brings tears to my eyes when I recall the harsh memories of the days. I was going through a tough time full of disappointments and failures. Every effort seemed to have gone down the drains and every door blocked which I had envisaged to bring success to me. The three years hard work which I put in for my career, did not work out. I lost hopes from all the colleges because of the poor circumstances then. My planning failed, my dreams shattered and I was all dull and sad. To add to the dismay was my mom’s ill health and the growing pressure on me, which I failed to resort to. I stopped eating, and spent sleepless nights. My health deteriorated with each passing day. Mental depression pulled me deeper inside and physically I was reduced to a skeleton. Breaking my own promise made to myself, I decided to join BPO again until the next academic year.

I was almost a bag of bones with no strength left in me. In  the warm summer month, I gathered all my courage and ventured out from Punjabi Bagh for a BPO interview to Greater Kailash. Without food since many days, without a bit of strength left in me, I was running high temperature that day and travelling in buses added to my fatigue. A tiring day at the interview, I was returning from the interview venue in the bus. My friends (who are my life lines) were waiting for me at my home whom I had stopped meeting in depression. My head was spinning and I could feel that everything blacked out in front of my eyes. I decided to de board the bus at ESI Hospital and take an auto to home. In a fragile voice I asked the auto wala to take me to Punjabi Bagh. He could barely hear me and I tried to speak again with the last drop of my strength, when suddenly nothing was visible to me. My strength gave up and I fainted. Just before my head hit the ground, a pair of hands held me to stop falling down. My feet and palms were ice cold. I felt a lady rubbing my palms while she lay my head on her shoulders. Another gentleman made me sip water. A group of people who seemed to be unskilled workers stood surrounding me trying to bring me back to consciousness. They were those whom I did not know, who helped a stranger without any reason. A gentleman asked me my family members’ name and number. In my half conscious state the only name I could remember was Abhishek. The gentleman dialed Abhi’s number from his own phone and asked him to immediately come to ESI bus stop explaining my emergency. MAPSA rushed to the spot and took me to the hospital. I recovered from the depression within few weeks and coped up with the pressures. A shudder passes through my body recalling this incident every time. Today on thanks giving day, I wish to thank those people from the bottom of my heart. Had they not helped me, I would been lying on the road shredded in pieces. I dint even see them or get to know their names, neither did I get a chance to thank them for their kindness. I do believe in God and after this incident I firmly believe that God exists in form of angles whom he sends in the hours of distress. I want to express my gratitude to those helpful whose timely help saved me and helped me in getting my life back which I had lost, well almost. God bless them. I can never repay them for what they did for me. Thank you are only two words I can say today.

The second incident runs back to August 2009, when I was serving an organization in the capacity of marketing executive. I was on business trip to Agra and was returning to my hometown Dehradun via bus at night. Since I was bold and daring enough, so travelling alone at night never scared me. The comfortable AC bus left from Agra Bus stop sharp at 8pm and was crossing the borders of U.P smoothly. The first stop over was at Aligarh bus stand around 11:15pm. The passengers got down for break and sip tea. I too was tempted to eat something and de boarded the bus to buy some tea and biscuits. I had tea in the bus and while all passengers were outside. I did not make a note of time and de boarded the bus again to go to the washroom. That was the biggest mistake I made. I hardly took few minutes inside the washroom. When I came out, my heart skipped a beat - The bus was not there!

One can imagine the condition of girl then. No matter how bold she may be, hawk eyes follow a lonely girl. I was haunted by the thought of the risk I ran in that isolated bus stop without even having the bus number with me. My luggage, my office files, even was passport was inside the bus which left me there! I wanted to kill the driver, or wanted to cry, I had no idea what to do. How could he leave me behind? How did he not count the number of passengers?  I blamed myself for being so foolish to de- board the bus again.

I had no number with me to call, nobody around to help me, nobody whom I could trust at time. My heart was sinking every single minute. “Rahul” was the first name which struck my thought while looking around for help. Rahul is my friend in Agra, who was there with me on the Agra business trip. Immediately I dialed his mobile phone number awaiting a response from him. But he dint receive my call. I was in distress! I had no clue what should me my next step? Should I raise a hue and cry or call my family? How would my family members help me at that time? Where would I spend the night now? I was so vulnerable then, I shook with fear.

I went up to a gentle man and asked him about the bus. He said that the bus had left 2 minutes ago. Looking at my condition, he offered me help. Since the bus would have been far away, we could catch it on the way, said the gentle man. My instincts asked me not to trust a stranger in the dark hours of night, that too in a place like Aligarh! But I had no choice. My need overpowered my fears and I accepted the lift on his motorbike. I was about to cry and my voice was heavy. The gentle man asked me to calm down and not worry. He said that in case we could not spot the bus, then we could go to the nearest police station. But poor me, I dint even know the bus number! That 5 minutes ride on the bike with my heart pounding loudly every second was the most terrible time of my life which I can never explain verbally. Was I doing the right thing to trust a stranger was ringing in my ears. Cold sweat on my forehead, a sinking heart, hundreds of apprehensive questions in my mind….. I can feel the goose bumps while writing this.

Few meters of race on the bike but the bus could not be spotted anywhere. I felt I was about to have a heart attack. The gentle man turned his bike around and speeded to police station at the bus stop. On the way he kept asking me to keep calm and be brave. My mind was buzzing and spinning heavily and kept thinking what to do. Tears were at the corner of my eyes. I was silently preparing myself for the worse questions the Police men would ask me and blame me for de boarding the bus at the wrong time. I was accusing myself and calling myself stupid. My situation was similar to Kareena’s railway station scene of JAB WE MET.

We reached the bus stop and there I saw a miracle- The bus had returned in search of me!! My tears of dismay turned to tears of rage and I had a big fight with the conductor for his carelessness. Half the people blamed me for being careless, while other half supported me. After the big scene created, I was asked to get inside the bus to resume the journey. Hastily I got inside and the bus speeded on the U.P roads.

I realized that in a hurry, I had not thanked the gentle man for his kind act. I don’t know his name, neither could see him clearly in the dark. But his presence was next to God’s presence for me.  Thank you uncle for your helpfulness. I wish I could meet you and thank you in person. Thanks giving day is a good occasion to express my heart felt gratitude to you for that day.

God bless you all.