Aye Mohabbat

Aye mohabbat tere anjaam per rona aaya

Jaane kyon aaj tere naam pe ron aaaya

Begum Akhtar’s ghazal was playing on the radio and how true were the timeless lyrics that said that love more often than not begets sadness and tragedy.

Kabhi taqdir ka maatam, kabhi duniya ka gila

Manzil-e-ishk mein har gamm pe rona aaya

Sometimes it is your fortune that fails you and, in other times, the world at large keeps complaining and resisting against your wishes. Love has always been a struggle from time immemorial and, more often than not, the two souls have to fight every inch of the way from family to society. It has been glorified and romanticized in our movies right from Mughal-e-Azam, where the heir apparent Prince Salim fought his father, Emperor Akbar, in a bloody battle, who disapproved of his love for a court dancer Anarkali, to Bobby where Raj Nath and Bobby Braganza fall in love and are almost driven to suicide to prove their undying love. 

In today’s world we have a new breed of moral keepers who wake up around Valentine’s Day and create a ruckus showing off their vigilantism. As if this was not enough, now strange and lop sided laws have been enacted to prevent inter-faith marriages which are being misused by the cops and the mobs. How ironical that the term the love between people of two faiths as ‘Love Jihad’ failing to understand that love is a jihad in itself irrespective of religion. Surely, if the people enacting such backward looking laws were to undergo a psychiatric examination, the results will show that these are the mad and sad souls who have either been spurned or have never known love of any kind in their lives and are hell bent on making lives of others painful. When all the religions of the world speak of love and compassion towards fellow human beings, how can these handful and hateful be allowed to run amok….all in the name of God?

Sharing with you something written long ago, but is relevant even today, about the struggle called love.

Same Old Tree

Do you remember, Amina

When the clouds would gather

How I would run and get the rope

And you would get the wooden board

I would quickly climb

This same old tree

And then we would swing

And when I would push you hard

You would start crying

No Raj, I never cried

I made shrieking cries

There were never any tears

But I liked it the best

When you would stand above and heave

The swing with your strong legs

How safe I felt sitting below

Together we would swing high

Together we would sing

From the same old tree.

 

Do you remember,  Amina

When you used to return from the madrasa

I would wait under this old tree

I would bunk school

Just to make sure I was here

Same time same place

Never wanted to miss a day

Never wanted to miss you

How much you would scold me

Then take out your books

To teach me

Sitting under this same old tree

Books never interested me

So just kept looking at you

Watching your lovely eyes blinking

Your tender moving lips

All of it and more

Sitting under the same old tree

 

Was this not the same old tree, Raj

From where you picked the flowers

So many of them

And then made a garland

It was so beautiful a garland

I thought you had made it for the temple

But then you gave it to me

I kept it hidden in my bag for many days

Till they started drying

Then just kept a flower in the Koran

And every time I bowed to pray

Felt a happiness beyond words

The flower still remains dried as ever there

But the fragrance of the flower

I can still feel even today

Happiness I can still feel today

Maybe the flowers are blooming, once more today

Up above on the branches

As we stand below, swinging

From the same old tree.

 

How many evenings

We sat below holding hands

Looking up at the dark sky

With twinkling stars

And the shining moon

Staring at us, smiling at us

As we dreamt

Dreamt of a beautiful life together

Dreamt of happiness in each other

All under the same old tree.

 

Why did they do this to us, Raj

Hang us from the same old tree

Raj, did you not say

Your God spoke of love, kindness, compassion

Taught love for all

So did my God

Love for all

Yet our love they said was against the Gods

How they forgot love and mercy

When they put the rope

That once hung the swing

On our slender necks

Pulled us up so hard

As we cried

And they laughed

For once, those who never agreed

Stood together as one

All religions surely must be the same

All Gods must also be the same

For look, how united they stood today

Those who were always at each others’ throats

Together they have pulped our throats

And left us swinging, hanging

From the same old tree.

 

Give me your hand Amina

Let me give you one last kiss

Ha Ha

Did we ever kiss earlier, Amina

No, not really

So many times I asked

But you would never agree

Raj, I too wanted you to hold me

Touch me gently

Kiss me…..

But remained a coward

Afraid of my people, your people

Till they caught us

Sitting under the same old tree

Here take my arm

Kiss me goodbye

Hold me tight, kiss me

One last time

As we, hang together

From the same old tree

One last time together

No fear of the swing today

Just the joy of the flowers above

And our loving togetherness below

And as we swing far away into the stars

It never will ever be

The same old tree.

 

Aye mohabbat tere anjaam per rona aaya

Jaane kyon aaj tere naam pe ron aaaya

 SS

The Road Less Taken

“Congratulations to Amitav Sinha for completing five years of service”, a message flashed on the laptop screen as the mobile phone started ringing. It was Amitav calling. Sharad picked it up.

“Thank you, Sir, for trusting me and supporting me. If it were not for you, I would never have achieved this milestone today.”

Sharad smiled and remembered the day he had interviewed Amitav for a role as a sales manager. He liked the energy the young lad exhibited in the short twenty-minute exchange and he had no hesitation in recommending him for the position.

After completing the paper work, Amitav got his appointment letter and joined work. In no time the boy was living up to the expectations of his seniors by recruiting a large number of agents and sourcing business not only from the existing ones but activating a large number of dormant ones.

All seemed pleased with his work. Amitav always seemed to be a man in a hurry for he would jump from one work to the next but a childlike, impish smile never left his face, no matter how hard a task he was performing. Sharad was much too senior in the hierarchy to have daily interaction with him but kept a watch on all the new recruits and their performance which included monthly sales reviews and meeting channel partners along with the sales managers.

Half the year went by and all seemed fine till, one day, the lady in Human Resource Department knocked on Sharad’s cabin and walked in.

“We have a problem with Amitav. While doing his background check we found this letter which is fabricated.”

Sharad took the paper in his hand and saw that the letter was from a multi-national bank where Amitav was said to have worked after quitting an earlier assignment with another financial services company. While the letterhead seemed fine and so did the contents but during the process of verification with the signatory and the bank, both had denied that Amitav had worked with them. They had confirmed that the letter was made up by Amitav on a letterhead which he, possibly, managed to obtain through someone working at the bank.

“This is an open and shut case. He has to go.”

“It took you people six months to do the background check and you finally managed to dig out something after we have confirmed the employee,” interjected Sharad.

“Sharad, we are sorry for the delay but it still is no reason for anyone to commit a fraud. It does not matter when such an act is discovered but we need to act strongly to send out the right signal to the other employees that these things will not be tolerated.”

“Please leave the letter with me for a day. I need to speak to the boy.”

Amitav was summoned and he arrived at Sharad’s cabin around seven in the evening when the rest of the staff had moved out for the day. Amitav had no clue about what was in store for him and was full of life and chirpiness even while shaking hands with Sharad who seemed tense and upset.

“Amitav, you need to be completely honest with me. HR has found that this letter you had submitted about your professional career is fabricated and false. I need to know the truth, the absolute truth, since the HR policies are very clear on such cases…..immediate termination.”

Amitav took the letter from Sharad’s hands and read it. For once the smile left his face.  He could not raise his eyes to look at Sharad yet, in a trembling voice, he spoke.

“Yes Sir. This letter is false and made up by me. I was doing well in my previous company when a friend in this multi-national bank told me about an opening there. I was interviewed and got a call from their personnel department who, after negotiating the terms, even sent me an offer. It was a big opportunity and the raise in salary was very good. I immediately resigned from my company in order to immediately join the bank. The bank, however, sent me a regret letter stating that they had offered my position to another candidate who had sent his acceptance of their offer before me. I begged of them but they did not relent. For six months I did not have a job. Every morning I would leave home as if I was going for my regular work and return home after spending time with friends and sitting at cafes sending resumes to a whole lot of places. How could I tell my parents that I did not have a job? Finally, the offer came from this company but to cover up the gap in service, I created this letter.”

Sharad took back the letter and asked the boy to leave for home while he sat down looking out of the window in his room at the illuminated multi-storied buildings decorated for the upcoming Diwali festival. He sat quietly for more than an hour and then drove back home, thinking all the while. He seemed caught between the boy’s story and the company rules governing such acts. As he parked his car in the basement, he called up the COO and the Head of HR for an appointment next morning at 9am sharp.

Next morning, he was sitting before the top bosses in the corporate office. On one side was Head, HR and on the other was Sharad seeking a bail for Amitav. The COO sat quietly listening to the heated and, at times, emotional conversation.

“While I admit the employee has made a mistake and a very grave one but, having seen him work so hard in the last six months, something makes me want to give him a chance and a lifeline.”

“You are making a big mistake. What if he were to fabricate any insurance document or underwriting paper, do you realize the financial implication it would have on the company? The company’s reputation would also be at stake. Sorry, on issues of integrity there can be no compromise. Amitav must go!”

“Sir, I do not know about you but I can speak for myself. Had my father at home, my teachers at school and seniors at work place not given me many a second chance, an opportunity to correct myself and improve, I would not have been where I am today. I would have been an utter failure forgotten in time. Today, if we take the severest of disciplinary action by terminating Amitav from service, he will never get any job after this is recorded in his service books. He will be completely shattered and his family ruined.”

“He should have thought of it when he committed such a fraud. We cannot have such people in our company. What message will it give to the rest? They will treat this as precedence and we will never be able to take action against any other offender. You may have your sympathies for the boy but this is not your home and he is not your child whom you will forgive and move on. We have rules and regulations which must be abided by all. Sorry Sharad, we cannot accept your request. Amitav must go!”

“The boy is just twenty-five years old. He has his whole life before him. After his confirmation, he booked a small flat for himself at Vashi and was engaged recently. This delay in background check and the subsequent revelation about the letter’s authenticity have led to his getting more involved in life from where he will find it impossible to retrace his steps without a job in hand. Who knows our one action will lead to the person taking the wrong path and doing more heinous crimes for the sake of survival. I have seen him for the last six months and, with my experience of knowing and understanding people, I can say with certainty that this man is not inherently bad. He deserves a second chance.”

“Will you take personal responsibility should he make any such mistake again?”

“Yes I am willing to take any such responsibility for Amitav.”

“You are putting your neck out on dangerous territory Sharad. Don’t do it.”

“No Sir, I feel strongly about youngsters. All of us have made mistakes of different kinds and just because someone was there for us to have our backs that we survived and, possibly, succeeded.”

The COO finally spoke up.

“Sharad, we will give Amitav a reprieve. He can continue his job with us for three more months during which time he must find a new one. His record will remain clean and he can have a clear exit.”

“Thank you Sir, but since you have said that Amitav is now my responsibility, I want you to give him six months after which you can evaluate his performance and take a final call.”

The senior man had a soft corner for Sharad and agreed. What was discussed that morning remained within the four walls of the meeting room and a handwritten note was kept in both Amitav’s and Sharad’s files with HR.

In the next six months, Amitav won many laurels and was like a super sales manager. The company decided to retain him and he moved up the ladder. He never forgot his benefactor. Whether it was his wedding or griha pravesh at his new flat or the birth of his child, Sharad was always invited and given a place next to his father.

Sharad was happy getting Amitav’s call today. He had seen many a colleague move ahead of him in officialdom. He often wondered if being successful at work and being a good man were an oxymoron. When Sharad completed twenty years in the company, one senior colleague remarked with a hint of sarcasm, “He is like the grandfather of this office whose grandchildren can do no wrong.”

SS