Saturday 29 January 2022

The Trinket

Savita, I am going to the bank and don’t know when I will be returning. You finish your work and shut the door on your way out. I have the keys to the house in my bag.

Ok.

Don’t rush with your work today. Diwali is round the corner so please clean up the places like under the beds, almirahs and desks where you normally don’t do. Once a year is not too much of an ask, I suppose.

Theek hai Bhabhi…will do.

Savita was all alone in the house and this would happen very often. She had been a regular in this house for over twelve years now and she had earned the trust of the Sharma family who even gave her keys to enter when they went on holidays to water the plants in the house. Diwali meant a month’s bonus which Bhabhi would give her and that was a good sum each year. She was determined to clean the house spic n span in the next couple of hours which may possibly get her some extra bonus this year.

As she pulled out the suitcases from under the bed, she bent low and entered the vacated space with her broom. There was so much dirt that she had to put her saree pallu on her nose to stop inhaling the dust. She also saw the cobwebs in the corners under the bed. As she came out from beneath the bed, after having swept out the dust, her eyes fell on a small shinning object. She picked it up and saw a beautiful gold earring with an emerald stone embedded.

Oh…this must be the earring that had gone missing almost six months ago when Shefali was getting dressed to go to her friend’s wedding. How much we searched for it then…we looked for it everywhere for so many days but just couldn’t find it. Mrs Sharma was so angry at her daughter for having lost one of the earrings for this had been given to her by her mother-in-law. She will be so happy when I give it to her.

Savita completed her operation clean-up and went home with the earring safely kept in her small purse which she always carried. She did not want to leave the precious thing on the dressing table. She wanted to see Bhabhi’s face as she handed it to her in person….Ufff…I am certain my bonus will be a minimum double…two month’s wages would really light up the Diwali.

Savita reached her home after doing the work at another couple of house in the same building as the Sharmas.  Her daughter Urmila had cooked a simple lunch which they both sat on the floor and ate. Urmila went to the living room to do her studies while Savita after a while lay on the bed for an afternoon siesta.  Usually, she would drop dead the moment she would hit the bed for all the work since early morning would tire her out completely. For some reason today, she just wasn’t able to sleep. There were many thoughts that were going through her mind. The war had just begun…

Keep it said one voice. It is been six months since the earring was lost. The Sharmas have already accepted that the thing is irretrievably lost. They don’t miss it anymore and no one will ever suspect her of anything.

Don’t keep it. It is not yours said the other voice. The Sharmas have always been good to you so you should return what is not yours.

Arrey pagal Savita. If you take this to the goldsmith you will get nothing less than thirty to forty thousand. For the Sharmas that is nothing but for you, it is so much. Keep it, sell it and forget it.

No,  Savita, no. In life you need good people. For twelve long years, the Sharmas have been so good to you and your family. Have they ever denied you leave…no. Have they deducted any money towards your absence including long leaves when you go to your native village…no…never. Have they ever been late in giving you your monthly money…no.  Have they not given you a raise each year…yes they have. How can you cheat such people?

Don’t listen to her Savita. You lost Ramesh last year to Covid and now have no one except yourself to take care of Urmila. You don’t need good people, you need money to live a life. All that stuff about payments and no deductions is just to poison your mind. They paid you well because you worked hard and well. They did not deduct any money because if you had turned away from them, they would not have been able to manage their home. They need you more than you need them. You can always find many other people who will give you work and pay you even better.

Stop your rant immediately. It is not me who is poisoning Savita’s mind. It is you and that too with evil thoughts. Don’t listen to her one bit. Trust is the most valuable thing you earn in life. Money comes, money goes. It takes ages to build trust and reputation but you can lose them with one small act. Never ever think of staining your years of spotless reputation. What money you will get wrongfully, I know you will never be able to reap its benefits. This is true since time immemorial. Go and return the earring to Bhabhi and earn yourself an extra good will, love and respect which no money can buy.

Yedi hai kya…Urmila needs fifty thousand for her admission to engineering college in two months from now. Ramesh hardly left you with some money and whatever little is there will be needed when you get your daughter married. Think again. This forty thousand will be well used for Urmila’s education. For the Sharmas it would mean nothing more than a few dinners at five star hotels and a bagful of designer clothes. Living in a SRA quarter, on a hand to mouth existence, all this gyan your other holy inner voice is giving you about trust, reputation and what not, is not applicable to you. For you the fight for existence is critical. Nothing else matters.

Savita, think for a moment whether Ramesh would have approved such an act? No, never. He was such an honest man and a sincere worker that after his demise the factory owners made sure the office quarter was transferred permanently in your name. That is the power of being good and doing good. What will you tell Ramesh when you meet him up there that you stole something and cheated a good family….how will you ever face him? We have a life now and a life after and we live them both on this earth. The good that we do and the evil we do in this life, have an impact on the next life.

Who has seen the next life? She is fooling you. When you return this earring, the Sharmas will become richer and you poorer by the same amount. This is your chance to bring down the inequality. There is nothing called after life. Ramesh is no more than ash and dust now and you will never meet him or anyone. These stories are spread just to deter you from improving your life. You need money, Urmila needs money and as a mother it is your responsibility to make sure she gets the education she deserves. When you meet Ramesh in the so called after life, you can tell him that his daughter is now an engineer and not just a technician like him. He will be overjoyed and will never ask you about the means. Be practical and keep the earring.

As the war within went on unabated, Savita saw her darling daughter through the parted curtain, studying seriously. Urmila had always been a sincere and hardworking student and Ramesh would proudly tell everyone about her exam results which had consistently been good and definitely better than all other children in the vicinity. Yes, she deserves to go to a good college and without adequate money, she will end up in an regular science college doing graduation and end up no better than her father or me. Savita got up from the bed and straightened her saree, took the purse and a grocery bag in hand and went towards the door.

Kya Aayi, you didn’t sleep today? Where are you going now?

I am going to the market to get some vegetables. I will be back in some time.

Savita went out and quickly picked up some veggies and then walked into Vishal Jewellers showroom. This is where she had been gradually buying small jewellery items for Urmila’s wedding. The people there knew her well. She sat down as one of the salesmen came up to speak to her.

Tell me sister what can I show you today?

No, I am not here to buy but want you to tell me how much it will cost to make a pair for this earring. She took out the single piece and put it on the velvet cloth before her.

Vishal took it in his hands and looked at it closely and spoke softly….I don’t think we can make such fine jewellery any more. This design is something my workers will not be able to replicate plus this stone is quite rare. It must be very old.

Yes. It belonged to my mother- in- law who had given it when I got married to Ramesh. When we shifted from our village to the city, we lost one piece. I thought of making the pair and give it to my daughter for her wedding. Anyway, now that making a pair is not possible, can I sell it and get money instead? How much will I get?

Vishal checked in fine jewellery and weighed it and did some calculation mentally….ahhh, I think I can give you about thirty five thousand at best because I too will need to melt it down and make something else instead. Maybe, I can add a few more thousands for the stone as well.

Let me think it over and I will come back to you tomorrow, said Savita as she put the earring back in her purse and walked back home.

That night she could not sleep as the war erupted again…to keep or not to keep. Both sides had good solid arguments and she was more inclined towards selling it before catching a few winks. She got up  early, did her household chores and left for work to the Sharmas house. It was a Saturday and Mr. Sharma was there to open the door with a big smile as usual and then he went back to reading the newspaper. Savita went into the kitchen where Mrs. Sharma was putting poha on two plates for breakfast. She then placed another plate and put a heapful of the hot food and offered it to Savita.

Eat this first before starting your work.

Bhabhi, yesterday while cleaning the house, guess what I found….I found this earring under the bed.

Mrs. Sharma saw what was in Savita’s hand and opened up her arms wide as she embraced the maid tight and started weeping aloud. Hearing the commotion, Mr. Sharma came into the kitchen and soon found out the reason. He threw the newspaper into the air and took Savita’s hands and started dancing in circles.

Thank you Savita. You know how much I wanted this earring back. I will call up Shefali now. It is still late evening in the US now.  She will be so happy. How much I cursed her for having lost it then. I am so happy today.

After the video call with their daughter, Mrs Sharma said…We too have some good news for you. Bhaiyya will tell you.

Savita went to Mr. Sharma and stood before him. He had a white envelope in his hands.

You remember we had filled up an application for a scholarship for Urmila some time ago? My close school friend happens to be the big boss of the company that offered the scholarship to children who had lost any of their parents to the pandemic. He has sent me this letter yesterday confirming that Urmila’s education will be taken care of by them till graduation and if her scores are good, they will continue for higher education as well. Call the bright girl now and let me hand over the prized letter to her in person.

Savita started crying. As tears swelled out, she bent down on her knees, put her head to the floor in the direction where the Sharmas stood.

Arrey nahin Savita. Don’t do this. Your daughter has earned it. And if she needs anything else, we are there to help. Shefali says she will also chip in now that she is working there in a good place.

That afternoon Savita could not sleep yet again but there was no war. There was only peace.

SS

Sunday 23 January 2022

The Philadelphia Diaries: H.E.L.P.


                                                                                                                             January 22, 2022

 

Dear Diary

 

I left Mumbai in 2015, lived in Delhi, then Hyderabad and now Philadelphia and somewhere on the way, grew up. It’s been seven years now, and I am quite comfortable managing things on my own. But to be very honest, I do not think anybody is ever fully prepared to leave home, it is only how well you put up your brave face…which after a point becomes a part of you, and you do not really have to try. Over the years, the façade becomes taller and stronger with the concrete of experience and cement of memories and gets a beautiful coat of paint by the social media. 

 

I also think that the times you miss home the most are either when you are very happy or in big trouble! But here is my second honest confession, the places I have been to, Delhi, Hong Kong, London, Scotland, Hyderabad, LA, and San Francisco, have all been very kind. And the last six months in Philly have been equally so. From a new phone number to taking me shopping and lending their own things, from making sure I try every new cuisine and not miss any place worth visiting, from sharing passwords to celebrating festivals, friends have always been there. But friends are family. It is when help comes from the most unexpected places that you feel a different kind of happiness. 

 

“Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who deserve it.” Albus Dumbledore

 

Today, I will not tell you about a new place, but the people who have, in their own way, made me feel safe and at home!


Paper Clips 

 

“When I was so much younger than today 

I never needed anybody's help in any way
But now these days are gone 

I'm not so self assured

And now I find I've changed my mind 
And opened up the doors”

 

Help! That was what was playing in a loop in my head in the Reading Terminal Market as I realized I would have to figure out a way to carry my groceries back. 

Rewind to an hour ago. 

I had picked up the week’s grocery, some chocolate truffles and the most refreshing lemonade from an Amish store that I had, finally, found today after failing the last couple of weekends. The Reading Terminal is huge, and for a direction dyslexic like me, it’s like a maze where I never find the same shop twice. As I was walking towards the billing counter, my shopping cart slipped out of the grocery trolley where I had kept it. As I picked it up, I realized one of its wheels was missing. 


“Oh darn!” That wheel had been giving me trouble, coming off the last couple of weeks and I would have to slide it back in position. I had ordered the cart on Amazon and it was quite helpful in getting the weekly stuff. Then began my search for the missing wheel under the numerous stalls of fruits and vegetables. Michael, one of the men from the shop, came to help me as he saw me searching for it. “It couldn’t have gone far, the cart just slid out and fell right here. It’s a white wheel, like this one,” I showed him the other wheel of my cart. He moved the stalls to look under each of them. Finally, the shop manager started checking the CCTV to see if the wheel had been there when I came into the shop. We saw that it was actually missing when I entered the shop! “It must have fallen off at some other place, it is impossible to search for it. I’m sorry for all the trouble,” I apologized to Michael. “Oh, don’t worry at all, moving the crates and stalls made me realize that the floors need cleaning! Now, how are you planning to take all this stuff back?” he asked. “I don’t know, I’ll just carry them in multiple packets, or carry some now and come back again for the rest of them.”

“Wait, let me see if I can do something, I have an idea,” he said. He told me to wait for ten minutes. 

 

“Help me if you can, I'm feeling down
And I do appreciate you being 'round
Help me get my feet back on the ground
Won't you please, please help me!”

 

It continued to play, as I listed out scenarios in my head, 1. Return this to Amazon, 2. Get a new cart, 3. Keep some things here and come back later for them, 4. Just carry everything somehow. 5. I should have gone to Whole Foods. 6. Why did I buy so many things today? 7. I should just carry a backpack. 

He came back and got to work. In five minutes, my cart had a prosthesis fitted. An old, smaller, black wheel he got and just attached it by winding a metallic paper clip around the spoke. “This should get you home,” he smiled. I thanked him profusely. “Don’t put too much in the cart and pull it slowly. It should hold. Have a good day!” he added. 

I have been using, for the last five months, this cart now, with a white wheel and a black wheel, and  neither of them coming off ever! Since then, I have gone to Reading Terminal Market several times, and each time I have tried looking for Michael. Sometimes, I don’t find the shop and at other times when I do, Michael is not there. But I won’t give up, I will find him and thank him for fixing a broken wheel and making me believe in the power of paper clips!



The Taxi Driver

 

“So, when you're near me
Darling, can't you hear me, S.O.S.
The love you gave me
Nothing else can save me, S.O.S.”

 

The best part of being in Pennsylvania was being close to Uma, my best friend, my soul sister, the godmother to my future child! We were inseparable since class six and after all these years, nothing had changed. Every chance that I got, I would book an Amtrak ticket and go off to her place, a regular weekend, Thanksgiving and New Year. Her husband, Ramstein, was a gem of a guy and had come to accept our eccentricities and idiosyncrasies, it felt like I had known him all my life! 

On one such weekend, we decided to make a day trip to Washington D.C. Uma and I laughed, sang and talked incessantly in the car, as Ramstein chipped in with punch lines and sassy one liners. It was the most wonderful day, bright, sunny with a nip in the air. We walked around the city, soaking in the sights and sounds, the Lincoln Memorial, the War Monument, the White House, Smithsonian Natural History Museum and the Capitol. By the end of the day, we were tired, and Uma booked an Uber to the parking lot where the car was. Yasin, the cab driver, was a well-built, quiet man and I only saw the back of his head from the passenger seat. In the cab, Uma was talking to her sister on the phone, Ramstein was thinking about a place for dinner and I was sending Uma the photos I had taken that day. I put my phone in my jacket pocket and sat back, looking at the city lights. We reached the parking lot and were walking towards our car. Involuntarily, my hand slipped into my jacket pocket, reaching for my phone…and it was gone! 

“It must have slipped out from the pocket in the cab, I am sure I had it there.”

Uma started looking in the Uber app if the driver’s number was there and Ramstein called my phone.

“It’s ringing,” Ramstein said. No answer. “He would not have gone too far, I’ll keep trying.”

“My battery is low, 2% and I don’t know if it’s on silent…it usually is,” I stuttered.

 

“When you're gone
How can I even try to go on?
When you're gone
Though I try, how can I carry on?”

 

My phone has all my information! My photos, emails, contacts…I should block the number quickly, how do you track an iphone? Breathe! Breathe! My phone has all my information!



“Hello?”

“Hello! We were just in your cab, my friend left her phone there. Can you please bring it to where you dropped us?”

“Alright, wait there, I am coming.”

Ramstein and I rushed to the entrance of the parking garage. Yasin was there and he handed me my phone, as I felt the air rush back into my lungs and my heart pounding against my chest!

I am not sure how coherently I thanked him, but I genuinely do from the bottom of my heart…

 

Chicken Soup for the Soul

“Achoo”

I sneezed for the millionth time. The dustbin was overflowing with tissues. A cold, a sore throat, headache, body ache, nothing new for me. It was a flu, (not the notorious virus doing the rounds) and I would be fine in 2-3 days. This too shall pass, I told myself as I reached the hospital for work. 

“Here, Mark made this. Heat this up and have, you will feel better,” Andy, my friend at work, handed me a big bowl. Mark, her husband, had made chicken soup for me. “I always like it when I am sick,” said Andy.

 By the end of the day, I was feeling horrible and just wanted to go home. Today was the worst. I will go home and go straight to bed. If I call home, D, S and S will immediately know that I am sick. I’ll just send them a message. They will worry unnecessarily. I will be fine by tomorrow… But I wish Ma was here. 

 

“How do I feel by the end of the day?
Are you sad because you're on your own?

No, I get by with a little help from my friends
Mm, get high with a little help from my friends
Mm, gonna try with a little help from my friends”

 

I reached home and somehow got myself to change. I don’t want to, but I should eat something, I told myself. And then I remembered about the chicken soup. 

I heated up some of it. I took the first sip and I can’t tell you how good it felt. It was the most comforting concoction. I think I almost finished the whole thing that night! I have asked Andy and Mark for the recipe multiple times, and they say, it was nothing, it is the easiest thing to make. I do not know if I would be able to make it as well as Mark, but if my chicken soup can make somebody else feel as good as it made me feel, that is enough for me. I prescribe medicine, I had already started medicines for myself, but the chicken soup was what really cured me! 



New Year’s Eve

December 30th, 2021, 6:30pm. 

The train was delayed. I was going to Uma’s place again. I finally boarded the train at 7pm. In the train I was thinking the last time we were together on New Year. 

 

8:40pm

As the train pulled into Harrisburg station, I jumped off, looking forward to a great weekend. Ramstein and Uma were on their way from the State College to pick me up from Harrisburg. 

I couldn’t wait for them to reach. I recognized their car and I walked out of the station. Even though we had met during Thanksgiving, Uma stepped out of the cab to give me a big hug! 

“Let’s go, you guys can hug at home!” Ramstein chuckled from the driver’s seat.

As usual, we were engrossed in conversation, planning our weekend, and then ultimately deciding to just chill at home! 

 

10:30pm

Amid the talks and the music, we had reached home. 

“Uma give me my phone,” Ramstein said as he got out of the car.

“I don’t have your phone.”

“I gave it to you to hold,” he said calmly.

“I don’t have it,” Uma said as she rummaged through her handbag.

“Let’s check the car,” I said. I called his number, it was ringing, but neither could we hear, nor feel it vibrate or light up.

 

11:00pm

We had searched every inch of the car. His phone was nowhere to be found.

“Did you stop anywhere on your way to the station?” I asked.

“No,” they both said together.

“You got out of the car at the station, it must have fallen off at that time,” said Ramstein.

“I think one of us would have realized if a phone fell down while we were hugging,” Uma said.

“But that is the only possibility,” he said. “It has pictures of my research project, I have not backed it up for the last two weeks.”

“Let’s go back and check at the station,” Uma said, considering for the first time, that she might have dropped it on the streets of Harrisburg.

“You guys stay, its late, I will go,” Ramstein said.

“We are all going together, you are not going alone” I said decidedly.

Uma took the car keys and said she would drive. I messaged home that we had reached and bid them good night. I will tell them tomorrow, if everything works out, I thought.

On our way, Ramstein and I were searching for ways to track an android phone. 

“It is ringing. If someone had taken it, they would have taken out the sim card or switched off the phone immediately. We may be able to find it” I said. 

Uma and I stole glances at each other. Ramstein was changing the passwords to his different accounts. 

 

“Rescue me before I fall into despair, oh

I'll send an S.O.S to the world
I'll send an S.O.S to the world
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
Message in a bottle, yeah.”

 

“I will block my number,” he said.

“Wait, let us see if we can find it. We will call on the number when we reach. If we don’t find it, then you block,” said Uma.

“Your pictures will be backed up on Google Photos, don’t worry, you can retrieve your project pictures,” I said.

“No, I had not turned on that feature,” he said.

We tried tracking the phone through Uma’s phone. The location it showed was their home, battery 54%. 

“It is not at home, I had it with me when I left,” said Ramstein. 

Even with multiple attempts, the battery remained at 54%. “I don’t think this is working, how can the battery level not change,” he said.

Somehow the drive back seemed unnaturally long. The fog was creeping in, gradually becoming denser. Uma checked the gas level. “There is some food, cookies, chips, croissant. Eat,” she said.

We did not touch anything.

 

December 31st 2021

12:45 am

We reached Harrisburg station. As the car turned to the road where they picked me up, all three of us craned our necks…hoping against hope that we would spot a phone lying untouched on the road.

This is not school, this is not a problem which will just solve itself tomorrow.

We parked the car and got off. An empty police car was parked at one end. The three of us started scanning the road, the pavement, the bushes. A solitary man in a cycle passed us by. 

Ramstein went inside the station. The Police office was closed. 

After a while, a taxi drove up. It drove around the station and then stopped. Uma and I started walking towards the station to go in after Ramstein. He came out shortly. We spotted a “Lost and Found” with shutters down.

 

1:10 am

“Let’s go back now, we can come back on Sunday when we come to drop you off,” he said.

Dejected, we started walking back to the car. Uma and I held hands. What were we expecting, a miracle? Were we so naive? 

“Entry only for staff” said a sign on a door leading to a room that had the lights on. The three of us stopped, staring inside. We could see a table, with lots of papers. Many shelves with papers. What were we looking for? All three of us were hoping for the same thing, without saying a word to each other.

Suddenly there was a sound from inside the room. “Somebody is there inside,” gasped Uma.

Ramstein started knocking on the door. We pressed our face to the glass windows. 

A man came. He opened the door.

“Can I help you?” he asked

“We are looking for a cell phone? We dropped it on the road, about two hours ago?”

“What phone?” he asked. His face had no expression. Uma and I just held our breaths.

“Samsung Galaxy S7.”

“What did it look like?” He asked again.

“It had a purple cover,” Ramstein said.

“I think I have something for you,” and the man disappeared.

Nobody moved.

He came back and handed Ramstein his phone.

“Thank You, thank you, thank you!!!” All three of us gushed!

“Have a good year,” he smiled, locked the door and went back.

Ramstein looked at his phone, battery 53%.

 

2:45am

The three of us were sitting on the couch, eating noodles and just thinking of how lucky we were.

“We never asked him his name,” Ramstein said.

We will always remember this night…how we lost a phone in the most obnoxious way, how we went on a wild goose chase and how miracles do happen! I am just glad we were together!



There are a lot of things that are not right, that should never have happened. The world is cruel, mean, selfish and unfair…but that is only a small part of it, it is not the whole world. Small incidents, trifles in the large scale of things, restore your faith in the world of men (read humans) …even in the days of Armageddon.

 

“That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for.” Samwise Gamgee

 

Love, Joy and Peace

Philo in Philly



MS


(P.S. the names have been changed, but you know who you are!) 















Sunday 16 January 2022

Avalanche Express

It was Army Day yesterday and I remembered how my mother, who worked in the Ministry of Defence for over thirty-five years, would every year, on this day, carry a small box to all our friends in the neighbourhood, shopkeepers in the colony market, and passengers in the DTC bus she would travel in, and collect small coins and notes. For each donor, she would pin a small flag on the shirt or top. Most people, she approached, would put in small amounts happily and felt a sense of pride in having the small paper flag adorning them. Today, it is sad we neither put these pins, nor anyone cares about making any donations and not many of us think of those brave hearts who are there in the frontline other than when natural calamities strike our homes or when the enemy is at the gates.


Then there was this WhatsApp forward which made fun of Mumbaikars shivering in their winter at thirteen degrees and compared it with the temperature at Siachen around the same time…only minus forty! So here I am connecting the dots and repeating a piece written about six years ago when an avalanche came dancing down the mountain.

 

We are Ten, Ten Bravehearts
Sentinels on the snow
We walk out on days and nights
With temperatures always so low
Minus ten is comforting to us
Below forty is when you miss your toe
Sunlight, frostbite, hypothermia
Welcome to our abode in snow
Welcome to Siachen.

We are Ten, Ten Bravehearts
Out on a special mission
To stop the raiders from across
Coming into our nation
Walking in snow so deep
When we heard a huge commotion
No, it wasn’t the guns booming
But the rumbling of snow in motion
Come later to our abode on snow
It’s too hot right now in Siachen.

We are Ten, Ten Bravehearts
Sensing our biggest killer
With nowhere to hide
Didn’t run hither & thither
T’was coming down the mountain
Crushing all beneath, this road roller
Just minutes away from us it was
We stood still, we held our hands together
Death was roaring and laughing at us
But we never let go of our hands
For us it had always been
All for One, One for All

Now this will be our abode forever
Never ever to say Goodbye Siachen.
We were Ten, Ten Bravehearts
No one else will know our names
But for our mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters
And our wives, sons, daughters, friends
Who will come to know of us much later
After days when all the searches are over
They’ll never find us, for we are lost
Lost forever, together us Ten Bravehearts
Sleeping soundlessly,….frozen forever.
Soon another set of Bravehearts will take our place
Welcome to Siachen, Mates.

We were Ten, Ten Bravehearts
Who will soon be forgotten
Wiped away from your memories soon
But not for our own families
Who wait at the station to receive us
As the Avalanche Express comes chugging down
Coming with our empty coffins
Wrapped in saffron green and white
Lying ten feet below, with unfulfilled dreams
Dreams of goodness and joy
Wondering how Genesis would have described us
From Dust to Dust or From Dust to Snow
Zara hatke, zara bachke, yeh hai Siachen meri jaan!

And in the end imagined myself singing
John Lennon's immortal song, slightly altered
Hoping they will someday come true
Imagine there’s no countries, It isn’t hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for, And no religion too
Imagine all the people, Living life in peace
Yo hoo oo!!
And there’ll be Siachen No More
You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one.

Jai Hind!

 SS 

Sunday 2 January 2022

Happy Budday

Some people take a day off on their birthdays but I never miss the opportunity to go to work, meet friends and colleagues and cut a cake or two there and return home for another cutting ceremony at home. In short, ‘hum cake ke liye kahin bhi jaa saktey hain’.  The problem with having a birthday at the fag end of the year is that you first wish people on Christmas, then we have to say thank you to the same and more people wishing you on your day and finally the aggregate of the two days of Whatsapp reaches it culmination on New Year. My usage of the mobile is at its peak during this one week, not to mention my posting the family blog to almost the same set of people once again.

The day started with a very early call with my darling now in the US of A and a round of brisk morning walk. Pulled out my antique clothes…yeah antique you heard it right. D presented me with this check cots wool shirt about 23 years ago. She bought it from departmental store called Snow White during a winter sale at Delhi. I wear it on all my foreign travels and often on special days in winters. This shirt is so special to me that my first passport issued in 1998 has me wearing it, the renewal in 2008 and then in 2017….ageless shirt and an aging man. Hopefully, I will have the same shirt on in 2027 on my fourth passport as well. Can you beat it?

Wishing on Whatsapp is the in-thing and these started pouring in right from the time the sun rose in the Australian continent and continued till folks in US and Mexico went to bed. We are all part of some WA groups and all you need is one of the people starting the chain and then the rest follow. The problem is whether to reply individually or wait till the day’s end and write a nice thank you note to all. I chose a middle path of responding in groups of twenty names per thank you after every 3 hours. This is easy but what do you do with the telephone calls? A couple of years ago I decided that for some really close friends and some colleagues, I would call them up to wish them on their birthdays.  These friends were touched by the personal gesture and now almost all of them made it a point to reciprocate. The calls went on and on, had to excuse myself from digital meetings to speak to these good souls who were making this extra effort and since you were speaking after long, the conversation could in no way be brief. Try picking up the phone next when you get such an opportunity and see the magic happen for the person on the other end.

Messages, too, can be magical. One boy from the Bangalore office recorded a song in Kannada. While every word he sang did not register but surely the essence was a beautiful birthday wish for me. Another lively boy created a card with a collage of pictures. A colleague from Raipur created a video message out of my WA display picture. Then there was this brilliant lady called Rux from Chennai who penned a poem that I must share:

Shibu dear friend may your journeys continue
With your followers who are in vicarious retinue
May God continue to keep you healthy
And fill you forever with your innate sensitivity
Humour and mischief lace your nostalgic forays
Bring some smiles and tears to our dreary days
Taking us back to the days of yore
When on our sleeves, our hearts we wore
And in the present, your humaneness and understanding
Weaves a gentle quilt of loving and giving
What would one wish from God for you?
More of the same and plenty of happiness
Success and prosperity and above all joyfulness
May your wandering feet take you on journeys galore
May your roving eye find the birds and flowers to pen your lore
May we continue to read and rejoice
And bless for your lovely voice
Reflected in each line that you write
Which brings to our hearts, a bright sliver of light
There is hope in the world, we are assured
By all that you write and generously shared!

Speechless I stood and blessed I felt.

Then there is this girl whom I have known since she joined as a trainee and has now turned into a fine lady, who reminded me every day for a month in advance that I must continue a tradition started over a decade ago of getting Bengali sweets for office folks. And so it was, I ordered a large quantity of kheer kadomba, shankh sandesh, shingara and vegetable chops for office. As soon as the parcel came, the team members invited me into a meeting room where a large number of them had gathered. I was presented with a nice bouquet of flowers and a cake to cut. This was no ordinary cake brought from a shop but a homemade marble cake baked specially by a colleague for the occasion….can it get any more personal? Of course there was the traditional birthday song sung aloud which attracted more people into the room and the celebrations got bigger.



As colleagues started pouring in to enjoy the goodies, I took a box full of sweets and shingara and gave it to the housekeeping staff who were having lunch in the canteen. Sharing happiness with these men and women who work all through the year, cleaning all the muck we leave behind at our workstations, canteen and elsewhere, gives a different joyous feeling. The love and appreciation they express with unspoken words is to be felt. And if you thought I would run short of goodies in having passed on a large portion elsewhere, then you are mistaken. The moment I returned to my work station, a chocolate cake landed up, sent by my team members in Gujarat...as they say good begets good and khushiyan baantne se bardti hain (happiness increases when you share it with others). One of the happiest memories is of a birthday about fifteen years ago when all the other staff had left for home, the guards in the office came to my cabin and gave me a small bunch of flowers and a card so beautifully written in Marathi…these memories are life’s little joys you never will forget. I still have that birthday card in my house, preserved forever.

I ended the day early and drove back home. When everyone asked me the usual cliché question, “Where’s the party tonight?” and I would reply with a smile on my face… Flat 1701…. As I entered my residential building, I realized the power company had declared a long shut down that evening. The choice was to wait at the lobby till they resumed supply or walk up….I took the second. With an office bag pack on my back and a tiffin carrier on my shoulder, I started walking up the stairs. Slowly kept moving up, one floor after another…I even thought of resting in between but decided against it….finally reached the 17th floor….not bad....climbing over 16 floors at the age of fifty eight! After a while the power came on and the two of us enjoyed the loveliest dinner made of all my favourite dishes with loads of love….luchi, alur tarkari, mangsho and nolen gurer payesh.

Aye  zindagi tuhjse aur kya chahiye….Life is beautiful. I get reminded of a beautiful poem by John Paul Monroe, a few stanzas of  which I must share with you.

Drinking From My Saucer

I’ve never made a fortune,
And I’ll never make one now.
But it really doesn’t matter
‘Cause I’m happy anyhow.

As I go along my journey
I’m reaping better than I’ve sowed
I’m drinking from my saucer
‘Cause my cup has overflowed.

I don’t have lot of riches,
And sometimes the going’s tough
But with kin and friends to love me
I think I’m rich enough.

I thank God for the blessings
That His mercy has bestowed
I’m drinking from the saucer
‘Cause my cup has overflowed. 

Wishing our readers a Happy 2022 and may your cups always overflow.

SS