Monday, 30 July 2012



 Does she know what I know? Or I am the only one who knows?

That has been the question that fills my head lately. I wish I could just forget the fact that I know something that my best friend might not know. Or, might know. I don’t know.

Yet, I can't ask her if she knows it or not. What if she doesn't know? Asking the question will make me inform something that she might wish not to know. Her life will be spoiled in a second if she knows what I know.

Ah, I know, this is complicated.

Well, it looks simple, but trust me, it actually is complicated!

How can it not?

I saw my best friend's husband walking down the street with a girl--yes, a girl...I bet she's not even 17 yet!--holding hands. Talking merrily like…… ah, this is difficult, they were walking on the streets like lovers.

Well, let me just assume that she doesn't know. And if finally she knows it and comes to me and cries on my shoulder, I think I won't say a thing about what I know.

But being a friend, her best friend, I should inform her about what I know. I am confused….. Should I tell her, or should I keep this a secret.

May be, her husband was not like I am assuming him. May be the girl was her only friend or something……….. ‘Or something’ what? I think I should follow him.

I started following them through the market. Their talking was really funny; I guess this because they never stopped laughing. They walk, they laugh. They talk, they laugh. They eat, they laugh. They laughed on everything, they did.

Now I saw them going inside a jeweler shop. I cursed him badly when I saw him buying a necklace for that girl. I was furious; I decided to tell Meera, about his husband. I called her.

“Where’s your husband?” I shouted in anger when Meera picked the phone. My anger increased by many folds while watching her husband’s hand running down to reach his purse.

“Why?” She was unaware of what I was watching, what I was knowing…..

“Because your husband is roaming here in the market with a girl.” I thought that my word ‘girl’ hit her ears like a bomb’s impact.
She said nothing so I continued:
“Your husband is buying her necklace and roaming in the market with his hand in her. He is cheating you Meera.” I was like scolding her for not having a watch on her husband.

“The girl you are talking about is Ankita.”

“So you know her.” I was confused.

“Yes, I know her because she’s my husband’s sister.” That hit me like atom bomb’s impact.

Oh, dear. So she knows what I didn’t know. How could I forget that today’s Rakshabandhan. May be her husband bought the necklace in return of Rakhi.

Sometimes before knowing anything you should know what you are trying to know otherwise……….. You know…………

Friday, 27 July 2012




“Raj, your friends are calling you at the ground?” My mother called me from kitchen. She must have seen society boys at the ground.

“I am busy.” My mother was furious because of my behavior. I was just ten years old but behaves like a college going boy, she told those lines once to me. My winter holidays were on and I was not playing at all with other society children.

“Raj, I think you should go and play with your friends.” My mother shouted from kitchen. Her voice was coming to me with the sound of ‘Tadka’ she gave to the food. The smell of food was fabulous.

“Mom, I have to finish my holiday homework and one more thing, they are not my friends.”

Now the frustration of smoke coming from the ‘Kadhai’ started to burst on me. She started cursing me in her village’s language which I didn’t understand at all.
“Thare koi home work milo hogo………….” And other similar sentences which I even can’t write.

I just closed the door of my room and started concentrating on the essay, “How you spent your holidays?”


I was pretty excited today. I was the first one to come to school. I started rehearsing my essay; I didn’t want any mistake from my side. Today was the big day for me.

Rehearsal completed and the wait started. Class started to fill with strangers and my eyes were still waiting for my love, Shikha. My eyes were near to shed water when I saw her. After a long 27 days period, she’s again in front of me. Her eyes met my eyes and then her eyes, slowly felt shy and as they felt shy, they left a smile on her lips which induced the same effect on my lips. What an enormous feeling that was!
She was a shy girl, she never expressed her feeling. She even didn’t talk to me much. She sat in the girl’s row and chose the seat from where I can’t see her clearly. I decided to change my seat but before I can do so, our class teacher Mrs. Anita reached the class. 

According to the roll numbers, essay reciting process started. I thanked god for putting her roll number before mine. Now the wait for the roll number 23 started.

Roll number 21, 22 and finally 23 arrived in front of us. She stood from her bench, adjusted her skirt, then her hairs and slowly looking at the paper on which she wrote the essay, moved towards the teacher.

Her eyes again met my eyes and the same shyness took her eyes away from me.
“During my winter holidays I went to my uncle’s house where I ……………” she continued in her sweet and childish voice. I kept on staring her till she again reached her bench.

I was lost somewhere, somewhere very far away from where we live when I heard my teacher shouting my roll number.

I rose from my seat and reached in front of the class. My eyes again met her eyes but this time she seemed to hear me out eagerly. I looked at my paper and then started to read:

“I just hate my holidays because it takes me away from my friend. I just hate my holidays because it restricts me to see my friend, my best friend, my love Shikha.

During my holidays, I just missed her and waited these holidays to over. I missed my Shikha’s smile, I missed my Shikha’s eyes, I missed my Shikha’s …………..” my teacher stopped me in between. I looked at Shikha she was lost in some thoughts; she was lost in my essay.

Her expressions changed in seconds when she saw Mrs. Anita dragging me to the principal’s office. I left my paper on the floor in hope that she will pick the paper and read it. I was on the door of principal when I saw her picking the paper. I was happy.

Principal Sir called my parents and told them everything. Firing of shouting was on from both sides, my parent’s and the principal’s side but I was happy with the thought that Shikha will be reading my essay which was a kind of love letter, my first love letter to her.

Outside I was sad and inside I was smiling by thinking that she must be reading:
“I missed Shikha’s talk, I missed Shikha’s walk. I want Shikha to stick in my life forever because Shikha is my love, Shikha is my life. I love you Shikha, I love you…….”

I know that she must have had tears in her eyes and ‘I love you’ on tongue.   





“Push, push, push………….” Was the second thing I heard and the first one was my mother’s shout, cry and pain.

Darkness was slowly disappearing and the bright light was ready to hurt my small eyes. White was the only color visible to me. Finally I was out in this new world and my mother took the breath of relief. I felt so bad when I realized that I was the reason of her pain. I started to cry.

I don’t know why but nurses looked really excited after hearing me cry. They took me in their hands, showed my blood drained body to my mother and I saw that her tears transformed in a sweet smile within a second.

Then the nurses gave me my first bath. I felt shy, so I cried louder. After the whole procedure required for me to keep on living on this planet, nurses first time gave my possession to my mother. That was a strange feeling. I felt warmth of love, I felt safe, and I felt alive for the first time. Then she fed me her milk and after that I was slept on my personal bed.

I was feeling like a show piece when everyone came to have a look at me. They made different faces, for them they were acting funny but for me they were acting like fools. I kept on crying and they kept on smiling. There was no one who can understand my feeling. I tried to have a look at my mother but she was also enjoying her time. I kept on staring my mother and cried as loud as I can. Then started the advices:
“I think he is hungry.” One fat lady sitting next to my mother said.

“I just fed him milk.” My mother answered.

“He must have done toilet in the bed.” One old aunty sitting somewhere in the room said.

One man came and took me in his hand and examined me, there was nothing. I continued crying then this man took the right decision to hand over me to my mother.

Now I was lying on the shoulder of my mother and my head tilted on the opposite side of my mother.

I was amazed to see that I was not alone who took birth today. The room was filled with many mothers and their children. My eyes got pinned on a child whose bed was just next to mine. That child was crying very loud. I don’t know what attracted me to look to him/her.

Now that child looked me and stopped crying. I smiled to him/her and the child smiled back. Now we continued looking at each other for a very long time. It attracted our parent’s attraction.

“See, your son is staring our daughter for so long.” Her (Yes, she was a girl) mother tried to be friendly to my mother.

“Your daughter is looking like an angel.” My mother said and now the talks started but our staring continued. This was the first time I said "I love you" to her and this continued for the whole life of ours.......

There was no doubt that we were made for each other and this is how we met for the first time and this journey never stopped.

SEVEN AGES is the story of love and I invite you to this eternal love story of RAJ (that’s me) and SHIKHA (my love).


Monday, 23 July 2012




I'm going to be a mother...

The fact that there's a baby growing inside me made me run to the toilet and tried to vomit the mixed emotions out of me.

Tears raced down from my eyes as I imagined what my Mom would tell me. I was such a disappointment... I was an ungrateful daughter to a woman who tried to give me everything I needed to have a fighting chance in this tormenting world. I was such a failure... A big one.

I had a dream. I had planned my life - my life with Mom. I promised myself I will work hard - for us. I promised myself I will give her everything that she wanted, the same thing she'd been doing for seventeen years.

I cuddled my pillow as random thoughts came rushing like an open faucet. I was trembling in fear - what will happen to my baby when she grows up? Will I be able to support her? Will I be able to find a job? Finish my studies? Find a man who will take the two of us? Treat her like his own? How would I tell Mom? How would I be able to look her in the eyes and tell her that her little girl's pregnant?

My thoughts were cut short as I heard footsteps. From the sound of it, I knew it was Mom's, which made me wipe my tears and quickly pretended to be asleep.

I closed my eyes and hoped she wouldn't notice I was crying. I wasn't ready to tell her yet... I don't want to hurt her...

I heard the door open as she soon entered my room. She sat beside me, gently brushed my long black hair with her hand as she made herself comfortable and shared the bed with me.

I remembered when Dad left us for another woman. I was crying the whole day in my bed and my Mom didn't leave my side, assuring me that everything will be fine. That we'll get through this together...

She hugged me from behind as she reached for my tummy. I cried, as she whispered in her most loving tone, "Everything will be all right...".

Sunday, 22 July 2012


I am Rajesh, an 8 year old boy who is so unlucky that his parents died within a year he came into this world. I lived in an orphanage before my new parents took me to their home.

They were nice people, my daddy and mummy. They treated me like their son. They gave me love, they gave me gifts, they sent me to school, and they did everything which I ever wished for.
One day I was playing in garden of our house when I saw a girl, sitting under the tree planted at a corner of the garden. She was weeping. I decided to talk to her.

“Who are you and why are you weeping?” I said.

“I am Aradhna and I am weeping because my parents left me alone here.” She said.

“So where do you live?”

“I live in your garden.”

“Come let’s go to my parents they will find your home and let you meet your parents once again.”

“I tried it earlier but they scolded me to enter their house.” She said and stopped weeping. There was a spark in her eyes which I liked.

“OK, I will take you to my room without informing my parents.”

She readily accepts the offer.

Somehow I managed to take the girl to my room and talked her a lot there. I got my friend actually and she was my friend. But there was one problem, whenever I talked her about her past; she refused to answer, so I decided to talk to my parents.

“Daddy, have you seen that girl in our garden earlier?”

“Which girl, son?” he was anxious to know but after some more talking, he thought that I was talking bullshit.

I tried to talk to mummy also but received the same replies.

I needed my answer, so continued to question to three of them. My new parents started to think that I am mad or something. They even took me to the psychologist.

I didn’t stop to question and they didn’t stop to ignore them but finally one day I received my answer from Aradhna.

We were sitting on my bed and were talking.

“But tell me something about your parents. Where do they live? I know that you know the answer. Please tell me I want to help you.”

“They………… my parents live here, in your house.” I was shocked to hear that but the most shocking thing was yet to be heard. “Your parents are my parents. I am their daughter. I am their child.”

I rushed to my mother, she was in kitchen.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you have a daughter and how dare you to leave her alone?” I was furious.

My mother was looking surprisingly. “Daughter………”

“Yes, your own daughter, Aradhna.” I was shouting on my mother.

She looked terrified, she started running towards her mobile and dialled to my father. He came and took me to psychologist again.

That night was a longer one for me. I kept on thinking, thinking everything that I could. I rolled to other side of the bed and saw Aradhna sleeping there. I looked in her eyes, she looked in my eyes. She said something to me through her eyes which my body followed but my mind knew nothing what she said.

I rushed to my parent’s room, knocked it heavily. My father opened the gate.

“What happened? Why are awake in such late hours?” my father asked.

“The almirah……. It’s shaking. Someone is in that, I heard someone’s scream from inside the almirah.” I was panting heavily.

He didn’t believe me but still followed me. He opened the door and went inside, I followed him. The almirah was still. He opened the almirah and without looking inside he said:
“See, there nothing in the almirah.” I was horrified to see inside. I screamed hard. My mother was lying dead inside the almirah.

My father turned to see inside the almirah and saw her wife dead. The fear can be sensed inside him. He turned again to see me but saw Aradhna.

“Who are you?” my father asked Aradhna.

“I am your daughter, daddy.” Aradhna said without any expression on her face.

“My daughter……?”

“Yes daddy, your daughter. Whom you killed before she can come into this world. Whom you killed before taking birth.”

I was horrified. What was happening? Who is she? Who killed my mother? The questions were many but answer was only one, Aradhna.

Then I saw my father falling on his knees in pain. It was looking like someone was killing my father from inside. I tried to move but someone was preventing me to move.

Aradhna went near to my father and said:
“You killed me and I killed you.” She smiled and my father died.

Then she came near to me and smiled. After sometime she vanished in air.

I tried again to move and this time succeeded. I kneeled near my father and cried. The door of my room opened and I saw my mother came in. I looked inside the almirah, the almirah was empty.
My mother was alive and my father was dead. I told everyone the story but nobody believed except my mother because she knew Aradhna. She named her daughter when she was inside her but my father without telling to my mother aborted the child.

After 10 years to this incident, Aradhna is still with us…………



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Saturday, 21 July 2012



“Daddy, you are ill, please doesn’t don’t come today. I’ll manage alone.” I knew that he will not accept my offer but being a son, I cared.

“We are jokers, son and jokers have no right to be ill.” he said and smiled. “Lets go and spread the happiness to the world.” He said and entered the arena of circus, I followed him.

Smiles, claps and happiness were all around. People laughs when we juggle, people laugh when we struggle. People laugh when we fail in our try, people laugh when we cry.

We were juggling balls, we were cracking jokes, and we were doing everything which we do everyday to make people laugh. But one thing happened which was not the part of the show.

He fell, people laughed. He cried my name, people laughed. I rushed towards him, people laughed. He died in my hands, people laughed.


“We are jokers, son. We are a very important part of this world.” I was confused what my father said, so he clarified, “In this cruel world, we are the good people. In this world of pain, we are the heal. In this world of sorrow, we are the happiness.”


“Joker is a person who is very rich.” My father said.

“But how Daddy? We doesn’t even have food to eat then how can we be rich?” I said.

“We are rich because we spread happiness, happiness which even money can’t buy.” He had a smile of satisfaction on his face.


“Don’t ever cry, my son. It is a sin for a joker to cry. Hide all your tears, all your sorrow behind that makeup we put during our show. The show must go on even after your death…….”


My tears started to tickle down my eyes. My father was lying in front of my eyes, dead.

“The show must go on……” I heard my father somewhere above the sky.

Crew of the circus took my father in the stretcher. Public stopped clapping and smiling. They sensed that something was wrong. Then the curtain started to move and announcement started that because of death of the joker the show is stopped.

“The show must go on…….”

I came back and stopped the announcement and then back to the stage.

This time I heard nothing, no smile, no laugh, no clap, nothing. Just a dead silence in the audience.

“The show must go on. My father is saying this from above. The joker who died is my father. But no, I will not cry. I will not commit the sin………..”

I continued the show. The audience did clap, they did laugh but with tears in their eyes.

The clap, the laugh, the happiness on that day was the tribute to the most important person in our life who died, THE JOKER.



Friday, 20 July 2012




“If you will help others, god will help you and always believe in god.” My father said. He was a rich jamidar (Who owns land and give that land to poor farmers for farming and enjoys heavy profit) of our village.

“But how will he help me daddy?” I was just 6 years old when I asked him this question.

He replied my question with a smile. I never understood what that smile meant.


“What did the doctor said?” I said to my wife.

“Our child is dead. Again.” She said. This was the second time, the second miscarriage. She kept her head on my chest and cried. I didn’t cry. Just looked up to see my father in heaven and then I smiled with tears in my eyes. 

I am Gopi and I am a servant. My father had huge lands in village but we lost everything in a fraud. Our relative took all we had. My father died because of that and we came on road. 


“Gopi, clean that carpet also. Anita has made that too dirty.” Owner of the house in which I worked, Suman, said. She was the cashier in a local bank. Anita was her little daughter. Suman was a widow. Her husband died in a car accident.

“I am going to the hospital to meet doctor.” She took Anita with her and left.

I started cleaning the carpet. While cleaning it I sensed something beneath that carpet. I lifted that and saw a piece of marvel which had a handle to lift. I lifted that and saw an iron box beneath that marvel.

A strange fear grabbed me. I started to sweat heavily. A strange vibe can be sensed all around me.

Slowly I opened that box; my eyes didn’t believe what I saw. Inside that box were jewelleries of gold, diamond and precious stone. My eyes started to sparkle and my mind started to think dirty.

Is this was the way, god came to help me? Is this the reward for my kindness and efforts? Is this what my father always told me? A river of questions started to flow inside my head.

Should I or should I not? My hand started to question my mind. I swapped my head, cleared the sweat and decided to take the box with me.


“Are you mad Gopi? They will put you in jail.” My wife cried on me when I showed her the box.

“They didn’t know about this money, else they would never allow me to even touch that carpet.” I grabbed her in my arms and shook her.

“Then whose jewellery is this?”

“This must be of that old couple who lived there before Suman Mam. They were very rich. This box must be of them.”

“No Gopi. This…. This is not good. I don’t want this money which doesn’t belong to us. You…. Please you go and return this to them. This belongs to them. That home belongs to them, so all the things lying there also belong to them.”

“No. I will not refuse what the god is giving us. He has already done so much of injustice with us and now when he is giving something to us so u………”

She took my head in both of her soft palms and while sobbing she said:
“For my sake, please…….please return this.”

I kept on looking in her eyes. I had nothing to say.


Suman Mam started to cry. She was thanking his god and was crying. She thanked me hundreds of times.

“Gopi I can’t tell you how much happiness you have given to me.” She said and I listened her with an expressionless face. I can’t even bear a fake smile on my face at that time.

“You saved my child, Gopi.” She confused me this time. “My child Anita has a whole in her heart. Doctor were asking 1.5 crore of rupees for the operation.”

I left their house and felt so much relieved. I saved her life. The tears of happiness flowed through my eyes.


“Ram, my son will be known as Ram, on the name of his grandfather.” My wife said.

“If you will help others, god will help you and always believe in god.” My father said.

“But how will he help me daddy?” 

My father just smiled whenever I asked this question. I never understood what he meant. But today I know.

I looked up in the heaven and smiled.


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Thursday, 19 July 2012




Nobody told me what happened but somehow I knew that something was wrong. I saw my mother’s face; her expressions were enough for me to sense the trouble. I walked out of my home and in the lawn saw the sign ‘FOR SALE’. I was terrified.

I saw my mom coming out of the home; she had tears in her eyes. She was expecting numerous questions from my side but I didn’t ask a single one. ‘We are now homeless’, her eyes said that all. I continued walking behind her.

Like other homeless, we also started living on streets. First few days were very painful. But I somehow consoled myself because now I had to be calm. I am big now and have to support my mother.

There was one Dhaba on the other side of the street. I used to go at the back side of that and whenever the owner and workers gets busy, I jumped in and stole food to eat. So this was how we stayed alive. But I was not so lucky everyday. Some days we had to sleep with our empty stomachs.

Truly speaking, I never imagined my life so miserable. I never imagined that for food I have to steal. Life changes so fast and on that day my life changed again.

I and my mother were roaming in a garden when it started to rain. It rained very heavily. My mother and I started to look for shelter but didn’t find any empty shelter. Then we saw someone’s personal garden in front of their house. We decided to go there.

In their garage we found our shelter. My mother knew that if someone saw us their, they will not be happy. But we were helpless because of the rain. We had to remain there, if we have to remain alive.

One whole day passed but the rain didn’t stop. The garage was filled with the dirty water.

We were hungry, we were thirsty and we were almost half sink in water. Our body was saying to us that ‘we were about to die’. ‘God please help us’ was the only wish I had.

The rain stopped but we were so weak that we cannot move at all. We wanted water; we wanted food as we wanted to live. Suddenly a new problem arrived. I heard someone coming. Our heartbeat rose. There was a little girl there. She saw us and screamed:
“Mom………. Come here fast.”

Her mother came running she saw us and said:
“Oh, my god. They are not looking good, they are all wet. Honey, run inside and get a towel.”

Little girl ran inside and came back with a towel in her hand.

“So, cute. Can we keep them with us in our home.” That little girl said to her mother while giving towel to her.

“Yes my girl. We can take them with us. You take that kitten with u and I will take that big mother cat with me. They will now live with us.”

So finally we found a new home…………      

Wednesday, 18 July 2012


Forever dreaming of having you near,
Always hoping you were here.
No matter that I will never see you,
In my dreams I hold you dear.



“Can’t I just be left alone on at least weekends?” I cried aloud in my empty room while lying on the couch with TV remote in my one hand and other hand resting beneath my head for support when my mobile rang for the third time in the last 5 minutes.

I unwillingly stood for the couch and grabbed the phone. It was an unknown number. I rudely said:
“Hello. Who’s this?”

“I am Girish. Can I please talk to Mrs. Sunita?” a young masculine voice came from the other side. The caller was unknown to me as far his voice was concerned.


“Hello Mrs. Sunita. Well actually I…. I am Krishna Sharma’s son.” Those words were enough for me to die in shock. Enormous number of questions started to come in my mind. In between that he continued, “Well I found your number in my father’s email account.”

He gave a pause and in between I was finding it hard to breath.

“I…. I don’t know who you are. But my father is dying here and……and calling your name continuously. He wants to see you for the last time.”

This was the next shocker.

“What happened to Krish? I mean Krishna.” I suddenly realized that something was wrong.

“He met an accident last week. We admitted him in hospital. They released him saying that he is fine but he is not. He refuses to eat, he’s just lying on bed and with those sleepless eyes just staring the ceiling of room and continuously calling your name.”

He paused. I think he started crying. Then he again continued.

“Please come as soon as possible. My mom…. My mom also wants the same. She will not ask you any question. You just come here, please.”

“I am coming son, don’t worry.”


I called Girish for the last time before we actually meet and told him about my flight’s arrival to his town so that he can pick me up.

I grabbed my seat in the flight and got lost in those wonderful memories.

Although the miles keep us apart,
Just thinking of you brings happiness to my heart.

He was the writer just like me and we met on a social networking site where we shared our stories. One day he messaged me and said:
“Hi, I read your story last night and I found something wrong in that.”

“What? I mean what was wrong in that?” I was annoyed. No one has ever talked to me like that before.

“At the last of your story you showed that the lover ate poison and finished his life. That was a bit wrong in my opinion.”

“So what was wrong in that?”

“Mam, a true lover never dies.”

I don’t know what I liked in him but I started reading him a lot. He was a lovable guy. His writing was truly lovable. Literally I fell in love. No, how can I fell in love? No, this can’t happen?

One day we were just messaging each other.
“I want to tell you one thing.” I messaged.


“I am married and I think I am in love with you.”

“But you haven’t even seen me. So how this can happen?”

I didn’t reply. Then he messaged me again.

“Actually I am also in love with you. I don’t know when, how and why it happened but it just happened and yes I am also a happily married man and also have a son of 3 years.”

“I think we should stop contacting with each other.” I messaged and a drop of tear tickled from my eye.

“Yes, I think you are right.”

But it never happened we continued meeting like this and shared everything with each other on that social networking site. We exchanged our photos, we exchanged our phone numbers, and we exchanged everything.

Today I am a widow and he is a happily married man with a son who is 20 years old but still we continued our meetings in virtual world but never met in the real world before this day.

My flight landed.


Girish was a tall and handsome boy but a little worried one, maybe because of his father, or mother, or me.

We reached home. An old yet beautiful lady opened the door. She watched me for some time with an expressionless face. She had thousands of questions but didn’t ask a single one. She took me to Krish’s room and left the room. Now I was alone in the room with my Krish.

This was the first time I was watching my love in real world. I had enormous feelings inside me. I wanted to laugh, I wanted to cry, I wanted to dance, I wanted to feel shy, I wanted to touch, I wanted to kiss, I wanted to shout, I wanted to do everything I can.

Krish was lying unconscious on the bed. He had turned weak. I took a chair and sit next to his bed. I took his hand in my hand. This was my first touch. Magical was the moment. I said to him that now I am here, I am near you Krish but he didn’t listen anything. I put my head on his shoulder and concentrated.

What happened after that can’t be explained using science. If you believe science, you will not believe me. But I am sure if you believe me, you will believe the love.

I was there. It was very dark there. I shouted his name. No reply came. I concentrated a bit more and then called his name. The darkness started to disappear, and the area got lightened.

Krish was there, standing and waiting. I called his name, “Krish”. He saw me, he recognized me. He wanted to move but can’t move at all. I ran towards him. I touched him, he felt me. He cried, I rubbed his tears. I hugged him, I kissed him.

“Where were you going?” I said. He didn’t reply.
“You cannot do this. You have to live Krish. For your Wife, your son and…… and me.” I continued.
“Do you remember this?” I gave him the ring which he gave me (through Parcel) as a remembrance of our love. “I will meet you again here and then you will put this in my finger and make me yours.”

“I will wait for that moment dear, I will wait.” This was the first time I heard his voice.

We came out of our world. Krish was about to open his eyes. I don’t want him to see me here so I rushed out of the room. His wife was staring me, she was tensed.
“Don’t tell him that I came here and don’t worry he’ll be fine.” I said and felt the relief in her eyes. I looked back once and left.


I opened my eyes. My eyes searched for Sunita but she was not there. I called my wife; she came in and hugged me. I saw my son also coming in. I cursed myself for even thinking to leave them alone. I hugged my son. He started crying.

“Don’t worry son, I will not leave you so early.” I said and all started to smile.

I asked my wife to cook something delicious. I wanted to eat, to live, to enjoy my life. But there was a question going on in my mind. I asked my son:
“Girish, did someone come to see me when I was unconconcious?”

“No…No Papa.”

Then my eyes fell on the table lying next to me. There was a ring kept on it.

She was here………….

I hide my tears when I say your name,
 But the pain in my heart is still the same.
 Although I smile and seem carefree,
 There is no one who misses u more than me.

Tuesday, 17 July 2012



Goa, the beaches of Goa are pathway to heaven and girls of Goa are angels of heaven. Truly speaking if you want to enjoy heaven on earth, come to Goa, take your seat, wear your sunglasses, and beneath the rays of sun enjoy staring these angels in bikini.

That scene of girls wearing bikini, those colorful hot bikinis will make you feel alive. I was happy that I was there, I was happy that I lived that moment.

I saw one group of girls, all wearing hot bikinis, were playing volleyball. Ah, I enjoyed every moment. With the noise of water, the girl’s laugh was mixing so melodiously, that I can’t express that in words. Their figure was like a fish’s figure. All the up’s and down’s of body been clearly visible through bikini they wore. Ah, what an engineering. I enjoyed every jump and dive of girls.

I was totally lost in their play, I mean in their body structure when their ball came near me. I took that ball in my hand and when I was about to throw that one, I saw one girl running towards me to collect the ball. I remain paused for a moment, time slowed down. Her beauty stunned me. She was wearing the red hot bikini and the bikini was very tight. The bikini was finding it hard to hold her body organs when she was running towards me. Her left leg was landing towards her right and the right one towards the left. Gorgeous was the scene which I saw.

“Hey can I please have my ball back?” she smiled and got busy in adjusting her hairs.
Without saying a word I gave her the ball. What the f**k I did? I should say something to her. She was running back when I called her.

“Hey, my name is Sunny.” I removed my sunglasses and smiled, full of confidence.
She turned back and said:
“Leena. My name is Leena.” And she returned back the smile. Her voice was damn hot. She stared me for a bit longer time than usual and then returned back.

Now my attention was fully on Leena. How she jumps, how she dives, how she curse other players, how she laugh, how she adjust her cloths, everything was under my observation.

After sometime she got tired and told other that she wants some rest. She turned back and looked me. She observed me that I was observing her. She smiled. She came near to me and sat with me on the next bench lying there.

I shyly looked her and saw that she was confidently looking directly in my eyes.

“Be a man, Sunny.” She said.


“You should look directly in my eyes, if you like me.”  Oh, f**k this all was embarrassing. I was still feeling shy to look her even I was wearing sunglasses still I was not looking at her.

She stood from her bench and sat on my bench; she removed my sunglasses and said:
“You have beautiful eyes.”
“And you have beautiful thighs, I….. I mean eyes. You too have beautiful eyes.”

She smiled and I smiled back. She came near to kiss me on cheeks. I closed my eyes and then.


“Kumbhkaran ki aulad. Kab uthega?”

I opened my eyes. Leena was still there but the beach was nowhere. She was looking me in anger. Slowly her thin face starts to increase in size. Her two piece bikini starts to increase in length and turned into a saree. Leena’s soft voice starts to gain bass. In short Leena starts to change in my mother.

“Don’t you have to go to school? It’s almost 7’ o clock and still this Aulad don’t want to leave the bed………” Mom continued to curse me.

So all this was just a dream. Ah, life is not that simple. Don’t know how many years I have to wait more for that lovely time, for that lovely kiss. Well at least in dreams Leena is with me.

“Are kanjad ab to bistar chhod de………” My mom continued.        



“Why didn’t you wake me up?” I was furious because I was late. Leaving the bed and the blanket on winter’s morning is the most difficult task to do but for earning money you have to do this. My lifeline, my train was about to leave the station in just half an hour.

“I am trying to wake you up since 5’o cloak.” My wife was furious because I was furious, so that means the furiousness was all round. While rushing towards the bathroom my eyes fell on the cloak, it looked like a time bomb which was showing me that only 20 minutes are left.

Actually I live in Agra and work in Delhi, I am a lawyer and prefer train to travel, so daily I had to go and come back with a same train, my lifeline, my intercity. It never got late, yes I know you will be surprised but yes it is true that it never got late just like me. I also never reached late. So like Kareena Kapoor in Jab We Met, I can also say that I have never missed any train, thank you babaji.

So somehow I managed to be on time on platform. Platform was as crowed as it always remains. I made my way by pushing other passengers towards my friends. I knew where they will be because it was almost a year since we all are traveling together.

“Are, Sharmaji. Aaj to late ho gaye?” Came voice of Mishraji from somewhere between the crowd. He waved his hand and I reached them. I looked at the digital cloak which was showing that I was 1 minute late.

“Where’s our train?” I asked Mishraji.

“Late.” Said Verma who was sitting on the Chai wala’s shop and his eyes fixed on the newspaper. He removed his eyes to talk, “Late by 1 hour.”

“What the…… late by 1 hour?” I was surprised.

So our ‘Ever on time train’ is late by 1 hour. The crowd slowly started to disappear and now our Faltu talks stated.

Mishraji started talking about politics and Verma on the news of newspaper. I didn’t have interest in any of them, so I was just observing the railway station.

“Chai, chai…….” And “Dainik Jagran, times of India, Hisdustan Times” Were the sounds which grew and fades rapidly between our conversations. A lady was fighting with his husband on some issue and was also feeding milk to her child. A beggar was singing melodious song and was expecting some coins in return. And the railway announcement going on continuously.

Everything was usual for a normal Indian but one thing was a bit different which gained my attention. There was a man sitting on a corner of the platform wearing a torn overcoat. He had a fine body structure and was pretty young but still was sitting like a beggar. He was looking towards the earth, no expression, no feeling, no sound, just sitting.

“Sharmaji, this is the prime reason that our country didn’t succeed.” I think Mishraji saw me staring that guy. “Our youngsters don’t want to do labor, just want to sit and eat. Here is the live example. See this man, he is young, he looks good and still sitting here in between beggars.” In between this topic now Verma also jumped.

“I am watching this guy here since two years. He can easily find job but then he have to do some labor, so he decided to just sit and eat.” Verma looked in anger more than Mishraji.

This conversation continued for a long time and then a came a whistle. Our train has arrived.

Day ended and the preparation for another day started. Again rising early in the morning, again rushing towards railway station but now one thing has been changed, I have now started observing that guy, that so called beggar. A strange eagerness started to burn inside me. I wanted to talk to that guy. So I decided that after the day ends I will go and talk to that guy because at evening there’s no one left on the station.

So the evening arrived, I bought some food and headed towards the guy. He was still looking down, fully covered with his overcoat, no sound nothing.  His overcoat was fully torn in pieces but somehow he has arranged that nicely to cover up his body and remain saved from these killing winters. He was sitting near a bench, so I decided to seat on that bench.

“Want to eat something?” I asked him quite rudely. I don’t know what happens to human being when they talk to someone who is below in reputation than him. Suddenly a change of voice can be observed.

He looked up at me. This was the first time I saw his face. I haven’t seen anyone with such an expressionless face. He was looking normal, he was young, just haven’t took bath, but if we skip that thing he was a normal guy. He stared me for a long time and then again started to stare the earth.

I put the food I brought in front of him and ordered him to eat.

He didn’t respond.

“Itni mehnat to karni hi padegi. Come on take your hands out of your overcoat and start eating.” No response.

I keep on saying and he kept on ignoring. Now I was filled with anger. I took the food in my hand and threw that in dustbin. One dog came and started the struggle to eat food from that dustbin.

“Learn something from that dog, you mad guy……..” and I started cursing him, I even said the lines said to me by Mishraji and Verma to him. He was listening to me very quietly. He was still looking down. No expression yet.

I started to walk away from him and suddenly a cool breeze came, breeze was so strong that it prevented me to walk further. Suddenly I heard some kind of movement behind me. I turned but because the dark of night was growing on platform, I had to adjust my eyes to see clearly what happened.

Literally I was stunned after what I saw. That guy’s overcoat has flown from his body and a lady was running behind the overcoat. I saw that the guy doesn’t have his both arms. I was about to cry but before me that guy cried after watching me. That lady again covered his body and came near to me to talk.

Because of the sudden breeze the street light above us was turned off so I was unable to see the lady’s face.
“Sir, he is Ravi. He’s my husband. I heard you when you were talking to him.” She was crying while talking to me. “He is not like, what you think about him. He worked in a mill where he lost both of his arms.” I should say something at that time but I was chocked. So she continued, “He lost his arms 2 years ago and from then he is unemployed. No one wants to give him job, sir. He is suffering from acute mental pressure. That’s why he has turned like this.”

“Why didn’t you told all this to me earlier?” I said.

“Ravi doesn’t want me tell all this to anyone. He doesn’t want to show his helplessness to anyone.” I was wrong, I was so wrong about him. I wanted to curse myself.

“What you do?” I asked her.

“I work in Delhi and everything which I earn is spent on fees of lawyers.”

“Lawyers? Why?” I asked her.

“I have filled case against the mill owner, Shankar Lal Chaurasia.” The earth beneath has moved. Oh, no what I have done. She continued, “He used outdated machines, that’s why this all happened and he has even not given any compensation to us.”

“Don’t worry.” I said and disturbed her during her talk. “Your case is on Friday, right. Don’t worry you will win the case on Friday. And Shankar Lal Chaurasia will pay you whatever you ask.” I said.

“Who are you?” she was a bit confused.

The street light above us lightened again and she recognized me. She saw tears in my eyes. I saw tears in her eyes. Ravi saw tears in ours eyes. I turned and started to walk.

I was the lawyer of Shankar Lal Chaurasia. I knew that he was wrong but still fought for him, for money. But the guy changed me. I lost my case and let Ravi win the case.

Ravi was sitting on the bench and her wife was sitting near him on the platform. I brought a gift for Ravi. I handled him the gift. He unwrapped the gift, it was an overcoat. He smiled and I smiled back.