Tuffy Tales- At the Park

Come Tia, let us go to the park to play.

No Tuffy, I don’t want to go anywhere. I am the happiest in the house.

No Tia, park is the place of happiness where you can run and chase, hide and jump…it is all fun there.

Tuffy, you know I don’t like and I don’t want to go out. So just leave me alone. You go if you wish to.

I am not going anywhere without Tia…whoof.. whoof…and that’s final.

Tia was sitting on the sofa, so I jumped and went close to her. She put her hand on my back, rubbed it gently…first up and then down and slowly repeated it. I loved it when she did this to me. I then put my head on her lap with my tongue hanging out, the saliva dripping on her nice flowery pink dress.

Tuffy please don’t blackmail me.

What’s blackmail? I have heard of mail, email and female but never blackmail!

Tuffy leave me alone. I am not going anywhere.

With sad eyes I looked at her and then jumped down. Darted straight out of the room and returned with the leash in my mouth. I walked to Tia and placed it on her lap and with my hairy head started gently banging my head on her knee.

Tuffy, you are a pain. Why are you so pushy and always want to have it your way?

Wham!!

Before I realized, she crashed the thick book in her hand on my head….it hurt pretty bad but I did not cry. I turned around and walked away to a corner in the room and sat down with my head over the front paws. I was not angry nor was I sad. I realized she just was in no mood today.

In some time, Tia came and sat down on the floor, caught my collar and dragged my face close to hers.

Hey Tuffy, chorry baba…I should not have hit you, my best friend.

And then she put the leash on my collar, stood up and said, Chal park chalein.

I quickly got up and stood on my back legs with my front legs on her chest, gave her a watery licky of love as my tail wagged wildly.

Our house was on the ground floor and the park was across a busy street. As Tia and I walked out, I made sure my body was always in touch with her right leg, never to miss the touch even for a moment. Tia’s father had taught me that I should cross the road from a place where there were white lines and a lamp post which had three colours. I waited for the light to move from red to amber and then to green…

Whoof..whoof…I asked Tia who understood my signal and started walking. We were still midway when I saw a person on a bike with one hand on the phone, the other on the handle. I knew this idiot would not bother to see and heed the street lights so I stopped, quickly moved from Tia’s right to her left side and started shouting at the top of my voice….whoof… whoof…while facing the fool on the bike. The idiot panicked and pressed the brake so hard that he skidded and fell….his bike stopped just a metre away from where we stood. I smiled and said, achcha hua as the fallen biker said,  paagal kutta!

Tia asked, Tuffy what happened?

Nothing darling, someone just fell down.

 And we crossed over to the other side, safe and sound. Felt like a hero.

We went inside the park and pulled Tia towards the bench under a huge tree. She sat down and removed my leash from the collar.

I loved coming to the park. I had many friends here. As I announced my entry with my trade mark bark, in no time Boy, Goru and Kalu came running to me.

Tia knew my friends well. They did not have collars but were always very friendly. They walked with me to Tia and announced their entry. Tia opened up her pouch and took out her packet of biscuits. No, she never offered my friends any ordinary biscuits. She always got for them Nice biscuits. My friends loved the coconut flavoured stuff with sprinkling of sugar coating. Tia would never throw the biscuits down. She held each piece in her hand as my friends went close to her, took the biscuit in their mouth and got a loving hug from Tia.

As Tia sat on the bench like a princess, the four of us would make a semi-circle around her. This was our regular routine and we knew what was coming after this.

Are you ready?

Whoof whoof…yes yes!!

Tia would bring out a ball from her pouch and throw it as hard as she could and then the fun began for us as we raced each other to fetch it.  Whoever got the ball back to Tia, got a prize…two cubes of chocolate.

Boy

Boy was really the strong one. He was much bigger than all of us. Goru was quite like me and Kalu was the weak looking one. But when it came to running, Kalu was the fastest. There was never a day when Kalu was not the first to fetch the ball to Tia when she threw it for the first time.

Tia was a bright girl. She realized, there has to be a rule or else the other gladiators would feel cheated and Kalu would become the chocolate king monopolizing the cubes every day multiple times. Tia devised a simple rule…whoever got the chocolate would get disqualified for the next chase. She made sure we all got our chocolates equally every day.

The park had a pathway and many people would walk there as we played. Tia’s bench was close to the pathway and most people would just see us, feel amused and walked away. Then there were a few who tried to get friendly and would get their biscuits and make some strange sound with their pouted mouth much…smuch..smuch. Some would call us, aaja Tommy aaja.

Must be mad, I thought. Who told them any of us was Tommy? Must all dogs be called by this strange name? Why did not any of them call us Amitabh Bachchan or Salmaan Khan…why Tommy? Strange breed are these humans. We never went to them, we never had their biscuits. We were happy with what Tia gave us and never asked for more. Only once did Kalu go close to one of them one day and ate the biscuit he gave. After a while Kalu felt sick and threw up…they would have given the poor fellow rotten stuff, things they would not eat themselves. After this, all my friends stayed away from the day walkers.

Two old ladies stood behind Tia and started talking.

Yeh laadki paagal hai kya? Kutton ke saath khel rahi hai…said one.

The other said, andhi hai bechari.

Hai…yeh toh bahut dukh ki baat hai.

Tia heard the conversation and went limp. She hung her head low and pulled out a piece of cloth that she rubbed against her eyes.

I knew it. My friends also knew it and we angrily went towards these women baring our teeth.

Bhaag…jaldi bhaag…pagal kuttey hain…kaat lengey….as they started running away. One of them almost fell off the pathway.

We returned to where Tia was sitting.

This is why I do not like coming out of the house Tuffy but you never listen.

She put my leash back as we stood up to walk out of the park. I turned around once and told my pals, …see ya tomorrow mates.

Whoof…Whoof...

The Eternal Search

I am so thankful to my readers for they not only send me messages of appreciation; some of them give me anecdotes and stories to work upon. One such story caught my attention as I waited for my new Hanuman business cards to get printed.

I always knew since childhood that Bajarangbali was a Bal Bhahmachari, someone who remained bachelor forever. I was therefore stumped when this myth was broken! I remembered the classic Hindi movie, Padosan, where the hero, Bholey, a committed brahmachari, falls head over heels in love with his saamne wali khidki mein padosan and ends up marrying the damsel. Was this the case with our original Superman Hanuman as well?

Hunamanji and Survachala at a temple in Khamam, Telengana

The story goes that Hanumanji considered Surya Dev or the Sun God as his Guru who alone is said to have command over nine sets of knowledge. Hanumanji wanted to master all nine of these. Sun God was able to impart five of the nine pearls of wisdom but for the remaining four, God himself was worried as these could only be given to disciples who were married. In order to solve the problem, Sun God asked Hanumanji to get married.

Initially, Hanumaji refused but later relented and so the Sun God gave his own daughter Survachala in marriage to Bajarangbali. Surya however told Hanumanji that despite his marriage to Survachala, he would always remain bal brahmachari as his wife would take to meditation and lead the life of an ascetic immediately after the wedding. By planning the marriage in this fashion, God ensured Hanuman got all the nine supreme vidyas but maintained his vows of celibacy.

 Dennis the Menace by Hank Ketcham

While not getting to the issue of “married but not married”, I wonder what could have been the four missing powerful wisdoms or knowledge that you acquire when you only get married and not otherwise. The dirty mind of mine could initially think of one such pearl of wisdom what Sage  Vatsyayana took such pains to describe and illustrate and became a legend forever. The unspeakable truth surely for me would rate for me the top ranked wisdom. This was easy but what could have been the other three that Lord Surya Dev would have imparted?

Patience must be the foremost wisdom any married man ought to have. It is universal from the comic strips of Hagar the Horrible to Leroy, the theme is quite constant and similar. Every man must have the patience to listen to all that is thrown at him, keep quiet and yet accept the fact the cause for all mistakes are his and his alone. He must also go down on his knees to promise, ”I shall not do it again!” yet end up repeating the same mistake and get reprimanded for doing, and at times for not doing, things which his wife had told him or he ought to have assumed she would have asked of him. So definitely patience must be his number two wisdom that must be a married man’s religion or dharma.

 The Lockhorns by Bunny Hoest

Earning money will also rank among the four missing values in bachelors. A married man must earn more money than his married wife can possibly spend. He definitely has to ensure the credit card is power packed and can buy Her Majesty anything from a designer lehnga to a solitaire. And so the married man must learn how to slog, beg and borrow but must surely ensure the bank balance is good and adequate to satiate his wife’s unending demands. Arthashastra may have been written in the 3^rd century BC as a science on politics meant for the king but for the married man artha – shastra is the art of homely politics of survival and success and must surely be one of the missing wisdoms.

 The Lockhorns by Bunny Hoest

Finally, what could be the fourth and the last missing wisdom? To me it ought to be how to achieve happiness. Does this sound all mixed up after all I said in the previous paragraphs? I can say with much conviction, you can achieve much joy in this relationship. Believe me, I have seen and heard many a bal brahamachari go loony and act funny later on in life. Their strange behavior may possibly be attributable to them leading a lonely life, with no one to temper them and with little responsibility towards the family. Your wife and children are the cause of much happiness and solace in life that the other carefree tribe cannot experience. So for me, the bonds that hold me together as part of a family to care for and to be cared for must rank as the supreme gift of being a married man.

 Hagar the Horrible by Chris Browne

And as luck would have it, I walked into a Tanishq showroom where my Survachala went scouting for the brighter stuff in the showcases, I opened up a colourful book on Indian marriages and look what I find on one of the pages that did not entice me to spend a fortune…

I just hit the Bull’s eye or Saand ki Aankh for some….Kama, Dharma, Artha and Moksha…the order may differ but they were all there. Wonder how I discovered the eternal truths... thirty years of married life, I presume. Life has been my greatest teacher and surely it must be for you too. Dig deep inside and answers will flow out. You do not need to follow anyone in saffron with a beard. Seek within and thou shalt find.

Happy Diwali

SS

Monday, Ten minutes to Nine

"Road number 3, Banjara Hills pe, TV9 aur Chutney's ke beech mein?"

Auto-wale bhaiyya- "80?"

"Chalo" Let’s be honest, it’s not that I cannot haggle, I am just lazy.

"Aap Bangal se hain?"

"Haan, aapko kaise pata?"

"Main dekhkar hi samajh gaya, aur phir aapke bolne ke dhang se,"

Hmm, strange…

“Main Bihar se hun”

“Accha”

"Aap doctor ho?"

Ok, has he been stalking me?

"Uh…haan"

"Kis cheez ke?"

"Aankhon ke"

"Oh, accha. Doctor banne ke liye bahut padhna padta hai na?"

"Doctor banne ke baad bhi bahut padhna padta hai!"

“Kitne saal ho gaye doctor bane?”

“Dus saal pehle medical college join kiya tha?”

“Dus saal? Aapki umar kya hai?”

“28”

“Oh”

"Meri ek beti hai, main usko doctor banana chahta hoon,"

"Mat banana, kuch aur banne dena...koi anjan admi maarke chala jayega. Aaj kal yehi ho raha hai, aapne padha hoga paper mein"

"Chhee chhee…Yeh sab kya karte hain.Aap log toh bhagwan hain."

"Humein bhagwan ka darja nahi chahiye, hum toh bas apna kaam bina kisi dar ke karna chahte hain"

“Yeh baat sunkar bada accha laga. Bhagwan ke baad toh aap hi aatey hain.”

“Yeh sab mat kahiye, aisa kuch bhi nahi hai.”

"Meri maa bimar thi, doctor usey nahi bacha sakey, par maine dekha tha ki us doctor ne kitni koshish ki thi"

"Humse jo best ho sakta hai, hum karne ki koshish karte hain. Bas bhaiyya, side mein rok dijiye"

"Aapko yahan utarna hai?"

"Mujhe toh actually yahan se road cross karna hai"

"Yahan se dhyaan se cross kijiye, galat jagah hai, gadi bahut tezz aati hai. Aapko road ke uss side jaana hai?"

"Ji, aap chaloge kya? Par aapko U-turn lena padega circle se"

"Haan toh hum le lenge.”

"Kitna loge?"

"Aap jo denge. Yahan se cross mat karna, extra dekar auto ko bolna turn le le"

"Actually doosre auto-wale mana kar dete hai"

"Sab ek jaise nahi hote hain, sab ek jaise hote toh Bharat, America ban jaata. Aap jaise log jab tak hain, desh ka accha hoga"

"Hum koshish karte hain Sir"

"Kabhi kabhi doctor laparwahi bhi karte hain, gusse se baat karte hain, aapki tarah acche se nahi"

"Sir, situation alag hoti hai, government hospital mein doctors 100-200 patients dekhte hain, tension mein hote hain, unke upar stress rehta hai."

And the auto took the U-turn.

“Aapki salary kitni hai?”

“**”

“Bas! Mujhe laga aapka 1-1.5L hoga”

“Haha…nahi nahi, itni kahan. Bas bhaiyya, rok dijiye.”

I paid him, got off and walked two steps.

Then I took a U-turn

"Accha bhaiyya, agar aapki beti doctor banna chahti hai, toh banne dena. Jitna satisfaction patients ko thik karke milta hai, woh aur kisi kaam mein nahi milega. Aur aapne hi toh kaha, sab log ek jaise nahi hote."

MS

Nanouk’s Travel

Dad, I want to stay here. I don’t want to live in the city. I want to come back home.

No son, I want you to have a good life. Our world is too tough to live and survive. I want you to do well in life with some modern amenities and comforts. You and your children will have a life that you cannot even dream of in these harsh conditions where the snow never melts, the sun ever rises and you have to fight for survival every single day.

Dad, please listen to me. Our life in the open and with freedom is much better than what I saw in my visit to the big city in Toronto. I am all confused and at times amused after meeting the famous people over there. With all the toughness of life and fight for survival, I will still be happier there at home.

Tell me son about your days there.

So Dad, I landed in a park near the Lake Ontario and I was looking for some direction but the sign there got me all mixed up and lost- North Pole, Niagara Falls, Vancouver and Halifax and all I could see was the blue waters on three sides and a garden of green on another and so I headed there.

At the garden at night, I saw a man riding a beautiful horse. But it seemed strange that they were both standing still and so I walked towards the man astride in regal attire and called out, “Hello! I am Nanouk. I am new here and wanted to know if you could help me around.”

What help can I possibly give? I am King George V of England whose empire spread from one end of the globe to another and they said that the Sun never sets on the British Empire. My Jewel in the Crown was India where I visited in 1911 when the capital was shifted from Calcutta to Delhi.  A grand durbar was held in Delhi to mark the occasion. And you know the best part about the Indian travel then was game hunting when I shot 21 tigers, 8 rhinoceros and a bear in just ten days.

You do hunting for fun but we Inuits in the northern snowy part of Canada do it for survival. We have to hunt polar bears, walrus and fish with our spears, bows and arrows. We store the frozen meat for winter months which lasts over ten months when moving out of our igloos is near impossible.

Since you as the King of the British Empire and the Emperor of India are not from this land, you stand frozen as a King in Queen’s Park while I look for someone famous from the land of the maple leaf. Your garden is green and beautiful but my ice world of white is so much better.

I was told by this King of a beautiful land just off Toronto, where water fell from great heights, that there lived a man who the locals say was the greatest inventor of the twentieth century. I took a Grey-line bus and reached Niagara where after seeing the beautiful waterfalls, I walked into an overlooking garden where the famous man stood. As I went close I saw a written in bold…Nikolai Tesla.

Hello Nikolai, how do you do Sir? I am Nanouk from another world much further north. My father wants me to come down here and study science and its benefits. Will you be my guide?

Dear Nanouk, I too came from Croatia and after studying in Germany, Hungary and Austria came to US in 1884. Here I worked with a great man called Thomas Edison whose DC based electrical works were the standard of the country. Soon I left Edison for we were completely different personalities. Whereas Edison was more focused towards marketing and financial matters I was more academically inclined.

I designed the alternating current (AC) electrical system which soon became the pre-eminent power system of the twentieth century and has remained so worldwide since then. If you take a walk down from here, you will find the remains of a hydro-electric power plant. I patented the Tesla coil which laid the foundation of wireless technologies.

It is good that you want to study science but in this land you also need to have a high level of business acumen or else you will soon get frustrated. I too had become eccentric and in the later part of my life I devoted much of my time to the care of wild pigeons in parks.

Thanks Nikolai. You’ve been very helpful. Science is good but becoming looney is not. I would rather stay sane than go insane. You stay here enjoying the greatest of all the waterfalls. I salute you for all the inventions and patents but the world of my dreams is not this. If I could make the life of my fellow Inuits better with health care and basic amenities that could make their difficult life a little easier, that’s where my science should take me. Money is important but I am quite like you…

Dad, I returned to the city once more and landed myself in a museum where I found among other things shoes worn by us. I was taken around by a man called Thomas Bata. He showed me the golden shoes of kings, sparkling ones of rock stars and simple ones for kids. We then sat down for a glass of beer when I asked him about himself.

My family were cobblers in the present day Czech Republic. In 1895 we created a shoe out of canvas instead of leather and became very popular. After World War 1, came the economic slump. Our factory in Ziln was called Bataville and our workers began to be called Batamen. Business grew rapidly and we expanded into many new countries including India. We also started Bata Price where the shoe cost ended with a nine after a decimal rather than a whole number, a tradition we have maintained till date. I died in a plane crash in 1932. In 1964 we moved our corporate headquarters to Toronto, Canada. Presently it is my daughter who is taking care of my business which is going through difficult times.

Ok Mr. Bata so you too are not from Canada. Then who is?

Thomas laughed aloud and asked me to follow a road that would take me to another Hall where he told me to finally meet a pure bred Canadian. I thanked him for a pair of shoes, which he said was his company’s bestseller, called Hush Puppies and moved on.

I landed at the Hockey Hall of Fame and at the gate was greeted by a smiling gentleman who introduced himself as Wayne Gretzky.

Hello Wayne, I am Nanouk from Nanungat up north in the countryside. Mr. Bata said you are ‘The Great One’ so I bow to thee.

Wayne smiled and asked me to follow him as he took me around the Hockey Hall of Fame. He showed me the pictures of hockey greats, the clothes worn by champions and even showed me how to play. It is pretty easy Dad. You have a long staff curved at the end and you have to strike the small round thing called puck into the net.  He showed me some movie clips where the players do not take it easy and end up fighting each other. He then took me to a room where the famous trophies are kept and told me about the Stanley Cup which is awarded to the National Hockey League Champions. He even took a picture of me standing with the cup. It felt so good Dad.

Wayne presented me with a shirt with 99 printed on the back. I read at the museum that Gretzky is regarded as the ‘greatest hockey player ever’ and was the leading scorer and provided the maximum assists than any player in the history of NHL. Gretzky was honoured by the Canadian government with many awards and the shirt number 99 was retired for NHL as a mark of respect for the great player. Now Wayne lives away from Toronto where he has a vineyard. He even let me taste sweet ice-wine. Ice-wine is made from grapes that are plucked at night in cold winters as that is the time when the fruit is the sweetest.

Finally, I found a real Canadian and I liked the sport he played. This is good life Dad but for this all you need is some good ice and we have plentiful of it back home. For that I need not spend the rest of my life here. So as sun sets on the beautiful Lake Ontario, I am flying back Dad and will stay with you, my friends…be myself and be with nature.

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,

There is a rapture on the lonely shore,

There is a society, where none intrudes,

By the deep sea, and music in its roar;

I love not man the less, but Nature more.

Lord Byron

SS

Dog's Life

It had been quite a while since I read a comic book, therefore, could not resist asking a colleague for Amar Chitra Katha’s triple volume of Mahabharata. Around the same time on a visit to an insurance broker’s office, found an almirah full of books, and as luck would have it, picked up Devdutt Pattanaik’s Jaya, which is the original name of the epic Mahabharata.  While people keep the Ramayana at home and is read by family members together, it is said that it is inauspicious to keep the Mahabharata at home as its presence leads to disputes in the family. And here we were with not one but two copies of the same dreaded book at the same time- the comic version was meant for me and the book version was for D. Maybe after thirty years of marriage, we’ve overcome many a Mahabharata of our own.

So then, both of us started reading the wonderful saga together, sitting on two different sides of the bed. After the initial enthusiasm, I could not go beyond the first volume of the comic book. The text in it seemed quite childish, even though the stories were being narrated in a simple manner. It somehow was not being able to hold my attention for long and I had to make an extra put-on effort to read it, just to show my wife that my decision to read the comic version was better than hers! It often happens that what seemed wonderful in childhood does not appear so great when revisiting later in life. It is better to leave those happy memories in our hearts and no attempt should be made to relive those moments again. D, on the other hand, took a huge liking to the longer version and was all praises for it. The author had done a good job of not only keeping it brief but tried maintaining honesty to the original version and added small, interesting anecdotes and folk tales sourced from various texts and different parts of the country to make it interesting. She even started drawing up in a diary, the family trees of various kings, hermits and gods to understand how each of the families were linked and how destinies of all were to again meet in the battlefield of Kurukshetra. Everyday, when I returned from work, I would be treated to some new character or story from the mythology that she had read that day. She kept on pestering me to start reading Jaya. And then finally I decided to accept her advice and started reading the book and soon got hooked to it.

You must be wondering why I have chosen the strange heading for the blog. Am I leading you to Dogs of War situation and trying to retell the stories of valour and betrayal, sacrifice and greed, vice and integrity of those who came face to face in the greatest war ever fought? No, that day is not today. Today I am sharing with you two stories from Mahabharata where dogs played an important role.

The first one appears at the end of the epic and is one which is known to most but is still worth a revisit.

After establishing a strong kingdom post the Kurukshetra with Parikshit on the throne, the Pandavas felt it was time to leave behind the royal life and they walked together towards the snow clad virtuous peak of Mandara which touched Swarga or heaven. Even Draupadi followed the five brothers as they planned to enter the realm of Gods. As they walked the treacherous path, Draupadi fell off the mountain first and then in some time it was Sahadev and then Nakula. The remaining three brothers walked ahead without looking back. Then it was the turn of Arjuna and Bhima to fall down and then it was just Yudhishtira who walked ahead alone. It seemed, all except Yudhishtira, had flaws that prevented them from reaching the Gates of Heaven.

“Come inside”, said the Devas as they welcomed the lone Pandava to the Garden of Amravati, “But keep the dog out”, they added. “Which dog?” asked a surprised Yudhishtira as he turned around to find a dog wagging his tail standing behind, whom he identified as having seen in the city of Hastinapur. The dog had survived the cold and had followed Yudhishtira all the way to the peak. The dog looked at Yudhishtira and licked his hands in adoration. While the devas contended that the dogs are inauspicious  and dirty and cannot be admitted into heaven, Yudhishtira argued in vain that the dog should be allowed entry for it had earned the right after having undertaken the journey and survived.

Matters came to head when Yudhishtira said, ”Either I come in along with the dog or I do not come in Heaven.” “You refuse paradise for the sake of a dog!” exclaimed the Devas. They then smiled and said, we are pleased at your integrity and the dog following you is none other than Dharma or the God of Righteous Conduct.” Yudhishtira was then welcomed with great fanfare into the Gates of Heaven.

I personally have serious doubts about the right of Yudhishtira to enter heaven for it was almost his single folly in that dice game with Shakuni which culminated in the bloody war and his deceiving Dronacharya about the death of Ashwathama. The epic throws up a new facet about this entry into Heaven of which I was not aware of till I had read the book this time. When Yudhishtira entered Heaven, he found all the Kauravas there but none of his brothers. He asked angrily, “How did these warmongers reach Amravati?” To which the Devas replied that all of the Kauravas were killed in battle in the holy land of Kurukshetra and thus had purified themselves to enter the Gates of Heaven.

One of the morals of the story is that you should not treat dogs badly, who knows they may be the Devas following you and testing you hard sometimes with a rabid bite as well. Secondly you will be often surprised at the heavenly justice and find strange people in heaven when you go there…possibly they too would have died in battlefield…Heil Hitler!

The second story is based on a folk tale from Punjab and is completely a new twist to a thing we have all seen in life, but gives you a plausible explanation to the ‘act’.

Draupadi was known as Panchali or the wife of five men.  So, mythology says, the characters then planned it out to manage such a situation where five men had one woman to themselves. Kunti, the mother of the Pandavas had declared that each of the five brothers would be with Draupadi for one year at a time. There was another rule that no brother could enter the bed chamber of Draupadi when she was there with the brother whose turn it was at that moment. Things were going on fine and to ensure that no one even by mistake breached this rule of not entering the bed chamber, it was decided that the footwear of the man who was with Draupadi would be kept outside the room, signaling to the other four brothers that they shouldn’t enter the chamber at that moment.

It so happened that one day Draupadi was with Yudhishtira whose footwear was kept outside the chamber. A stray dog entered the palace and took away the footwear. Arjuna came looking for his bow and not finding a footwear outside, he assumed Draupadi was alone, he entered the room. Seeing him, Draupadi was embarrassed and cursed the dog that since his actions caused her intimate moments to be known to another, all dogs in future would copulate in public in full view of all, stripped of all shame.

Please do not ask me how authentic this folk tale is, just read it, shut it and forget it…surely you will not forget this easily, will you? After all men will be men! Do not ask me for the moral of this immoral story. The only thing that comes to mind is Amar Chitra Katha is Sanskari and children should be encouraged to read it and no more lest they be polluted with such F-tales… Folk tales.

SS

Born To Fly

Two friends were sitting on the beautiful lawns of Hindu College watching a warm up football match between the two rivals across the road. St. Stephens were victorious that day beating Hindu on their home ground and it couldn’t have been more insulting to a large crowd gathered there. The losing team looked dejected as the Director of Physical Education of the college gave them a solid dressing down in chaste Hindi.

“Chal, let us join the college team trials from tomorrow,” said the taller of the two. “As it is after studying hard in the First Year we barely got through the exams.”

“Ya, I attended all classes, went to so many libraries from Central Secretariat to ICHR, studied all the reference books, made long notes but when the exams came up couldn’t remember things I had read many times. With 40 and 42 percent, we must be the laggards in History Honours in the college or maybe in the university as well. It would have been so much better had I at least played football for the college and enjoyed a bit of college life with friends.”

“Don’t worry, let’s us try and get into the college team. As far as studies are concerned, I will get you the best of tutorials. You are the brainy Bong who will compile them and we will surely do much better than what we have done this year.”

The pact was instantly made and the next day the two landed at the football ground and after two days of tough selection, both were picked to be part of the team. The fair and handsome one was chosen as the goalkeeper and the shorter one got selected as a forward. The first acid test for the team was a repeat of the warm up game with St. Stephens and both the friends were selected in the playing eleven. With even a larger crowd now watching the two teams fighting it out, Hindu College beat the team from across the street by three goals to nil and the man in the forward line scored one goal and assisted in the other two while the goalie made some dramatic saves. Both became instant heroes in the college and found a permanent place in the playing eleven for the next two years.

Brothers in Arms

The bonding on the field was strengthened when both gave the exams that year. They appeared not only for the second year but also repeated the two papers from the first year and got high fifties which was remarkable considering they had stopped attending classes and library cards had been handed over to the other studious types who needed to borrow more books.

Thank you Ranjeev, my friend, for convincing me to play for the college which gave me the happiest time of my life and along with sports, you also helped me get good scores in studies. But for you my friend, I would never have got an identity in college and develop such a passion for the game.

Today, as I remember my friend Ranjeev, memories keep flowing through the shadows of my mind. He was everything I wasn’t and always wanted to be. He had a way with girls as no one I had seen before and never saw another later, while I was always the shy and the meek one.

The two friends would, on some days after football practice, walk to Patel Chest from where the University Special buses originated in order to get seats. It was on one such day that they found themselves seated comfortably next to each other. As the bus started moving and stopping at various colleges picking up students, at Indraprastha College a pretty girl boarded the bus and stood near their seat. He looked at the girl and almost ordered his friend with a straight face, “Get up now!” Stunned by the strange behavior, the friend still gave up his seat and asked the damsel to take his place instead. Within no time, Ranjeev struck a conversation with the girl and by the time the bus had reached Rajghat, the two of them were laughing and talking as if they knew each other for long. When the bus reached Lutyens Delhi and the girl stood up to get off, Ranjeev, too, got off. Next day the girl was at our college chatting with The Boss.

When it came to girls, if there ever was a Speedy Gonsalvez, it was him. There was something about him that attracted the best looking girls to him at all times. Was it the twinkle in his light brown eyes or was it his tall and fair looks or was it his quick repartee or possibly it was all of them and more in him that made the girls follow the Pied Piper.

In school I had done many things from writing chits and copying from the neighbour’s answer sheets but I wasn’t as daring as Ranjeev. He had the audacity to keep his bag containing the notes in the college staff room and would often go there to take a look before coming back to his desk to complete the answer sheet. What happened as we sat down to give our last exam of Third Year was beyond anyone’s comprehension….

Ranjeev had not been keeping well and had not been able to study the jointly prepared answers or tutorials as we used to call them. It was our last exam before we passed and got our graduation degrees. He was sitting two seats ahead of me. As the question papers were being distributed, my friend started a conversation with the invigilator. European history was always a subject I loved and started writing my answers with great speed and began filling up one answer sheet after another. There was pin drop silence when I heard Ranjeev talking aloud with the invigilator,"I am asking for the answer sheet from him,” as he pointed a finger towards me. The invigilator said nothing and Ranjeev now almost ordered me,"Pass me the answer sheet, nothing will happen.” I was afraid to do so as this might jeopardise my future if something were to go wrong.Still I took courage to ask the invigilator,”de doon kya(should I give)?” The watch dog just smiled at me and I rolled one of my answer sheets and threw it towards Ranjeev who caught it and started writing his answer. In the next one hour all my answer sheets had reached Ranjeev and he was able to complete the paper and was pretty satisfied with his efforts. As we handed over our answer sheets to the invigilator, Ranjeev thanked him and as we stepped out of the classroom, he started laughing hysterically. We both graduated together and didn’t do too badly. He never grudged me getting a few percentage points more than him. He was more pleased at getting a decent score.

Ranjeev was the friend who introduced me to good life that ought to be the birthright of every teenager. And in giving me this joy of living, he never had to make any special effort. It came to him all so naturally.

I lived in the smaller of the government apartments while he lived in a larger one where senior bureaucrats were stationed. In my colony , we enjoyed dance only when there were marriages and people of all shapes and sizes would wriggle around the ghodi, on which the groom sat, with a garland made of currency notes. The band would play Come September and tunes from Hindi movies and men and women would dance as if in a trance and the senior citizens would throw up some currency notes and the band players would catch them as extra baksheesh. Ranjeev and his friends organized dance parties at their Chanakya Puri Club and,at times, at his home. He always made sure I was invited. He made me see what proper dance parties were, what it meant to dance with girls.

In one such New Year’s Eve party, I was sitting near the bonfire with some boys and girls sitting around it. Ranjeev was the star of all the parties and he came out and asked me to come on to the floor. I felt a little shy. He not only pulled me into the hall, he also asked a girl sitting there to get up and take to the floor with me. At another party, Ranjeev and his other two associates, Ravi and Niraj, made sure I got the first close dance of my life. Of course, the party ended pretty awkwardly for me and the girl, but then my fear of dancing was gone. Pappu can dance saala!

Thanks to my idol, I started enjoying the parties and learnt to shake a leg, much more than I had ever learnt living in my colony. My fear of girls was gone. All my twenty long years I had waited for such  good times which only he gave to me and surely to many others like me.

I could go on with many more instances of his fun loving and free flowing life but must at this point take a break. He joined the Indian Army after clearing the IMA exam while I went my way into the world of insurance. Ranjeev always loved flying and so when I met him, after some years, in Mumbai he said,” I am from the Army, am on deputation to the Coast Guard flying choppers…army, navy and air force all in one!” He became Lt. Colonel and took voluntary retirement, whereupon he started flying choppers for private operators. A couple of days ago, I got the sad news of his chopper meeting with a fatal accident as he, along with two others, were returning after supplying relief materials to flood affected areas of Uttarakhand. This was not the first time that Ranjeev had undertaken such bold rescue operations. He was among the first to reach out to the helpless and devastated people at Gaurikund and Kedarnath in 2014 and later in 2017 in Pithoragarh. He truly knew no fear. His Whatsapp status read…Born to Fly!

You were born to fly

You were born to be free

And truly you’ve flown away

High as high can be

I am sure God needed you

Needed you to give lessons to all

Lessons of love

Lessons of friendship

Lessons of bravery

Lessons of service

Or maybe to run His chopper services

To recue humanity in disaster

Born to Fly, from here to eternity.

In life, a man is always indebted to his parents for many things and so am I, but never ever another man can be as indebted as I am to you for giving me so much joy, helping me discover my real self…no wonder I am not ashamed to say Tu Mera Hero Number One. You were everything I wanted to be and you changed me for good. Today a part of me got blown away…I cried and deep inside me, chanted Om Shanti Om Shanti Om Shanti.

SS

KHOYA PAYA

War was in the air. A madman had just crashed his explosive laden vehicle into a CRPF convoy. Indian Air Force had intruded into enemy war zone and blasted terrorist camps from the face of the earth. The other nation upped the ante by flying F16 aircrafts over Indian territory and in the ensuing scuffle an Indian pilot who ejected from an aging MIG 21 Bison was captured by the Pakistanis. Both the nations moved their armed forces to high alert and towards the bordering regions. Airports in India were asked to conduct extra security checks on passengers.

But for India’s flying salesmen it was just another day in paradise. Our man on the go, Sadashiv Rao, entered the Mumbai Airport at 5.30am in the morning to take a 7.15am flight to Delhi. He went straight to the self check-in kiosk for a print out of the boarding pass. This action is always so easy and smooth and it is a pleasure to see the fine piece of check-in paper slip out. As he bent low to collect the paper, his eyes caught a brown envelope lying on the floor. Surely it must have slipped out of a rushing traveller’s bag. To pick up or not to pick up was the question and he opted for the first.

His eyes popped up as he read the addressor and addressee details and a box on the right hand corner written in red in block capitals, ’SECRET’. He looked around and waited a while to see if someone came looking for it, but no one came. He started thinking of the options before him. Option one was to throw it into the dustbin and walk away. Secondly he could have gone to the airport manager and made a public announcement. The final option was to hand the envelope to the CISF men posted there. He decided against all the three and put the envelope in his computer bag, cleared the security hurdle on way to the boarding gate admiring the beautiful pieces of art on display at the airport.

As he waited for the boarding announcement, his fingers twitched as a few more awkward options popped up….How about opening the packet to know what’s the official secret? Would be nice to see what constitutes a state secret beyond the Bond movies. What if the contents were to reach some news channel?  He also wondered what would happen if the CCTV cameras at the airport had picked up his picture and the security men caught up with him with the envelope in his possession? Aa bail mujhe maar…was the only way he described his present situation.

Sense prevailed as he checked the envelope once more. Since the addressee was in Delhi, the city he was going to, he decided to hand over the same personally. So for the next three wintery days in Delhi, he kept waiting for an opportune time to go to deliver the document.  While his car did pass the address on the envelope a couple of times, he wondered how he would explain the presence of a top secret envelope in his possession and even if he were to survive the initial grilling by the security personnel, what would happen to the man who was supposed to actually carry it? If truly the document contained some state secret and was meant to be hand delivered, Bhai ki naukri toh jayegi…aur kya hoga kya pata.

So nothing happened at Delhi and he returned home. The envelope remained in the front zip of the bag only to be brought out a couple of times at night to check if it was still there. Finally, after two more days of further thinking, Sadashiv started locating the sender whose name was on the envelope…Google, Linkedin and FB…all failed in their search for once. The man was incognito! Next stop was a visit to the official website from where he could get the landline office board contact number. He punched in the eight digit number…trrrinng trrinng…after a couple of rings a bored voice of a lady was heard from the other side and he hesitantly asked,

“Kindly connect me to Mr. Pattanaik.”

“Which department is he in?”

“I don’t know the department but I think he works in the Director’s Office.”

“Which director’s office?  We have eight directors working here.”

“Madam, I don’t know which director but let me tell you why I am trying to reach him. I have an envelope  which I found Pattanaik’s name written which I picked up at Mumbai airport 5 days ago. The envelope is marked secret and I am sure it must be important for the organization. So please help me locate the man. Just want to give him the same and I can assure you I have not opened it at all.”

“What did you say an envelope marked "secret"? What colour is the envelope- white, yellow or brown?”

“Madam, please give me your mobile number and I shall send you a picture and you will understand what I have in hand.”

“We are not allowed to keep mobile phones here. Sir, so please give me your name and number and someone will contact you soon.”

The name and number were shared and phone put down. Within ten minutes he got a call from a land line and he knew it was from the same office.

“Mr. Rao, I am Mrs. Madhu Sharma  speaking from the Director’s office. Can you repeat what you just told the receptionist?”

And so he repeated, now with a lot more confidence in his voice knowing the chase was moving in the right direction.

“Thank you for what you have done. Please hold the line as I transfer it to the head of security here.”

Again Rao was made to repeat the story. The gentlemen on the other side finally said, “We do have a Mr. Pattanaik working here. We have cross-checked with the date when you found the envelope at the airport with our records and are aware of the sensitivity of the missing envelope that is in your possession. It is very important for us to get it back. Please tell me your location now and I shall have the same picked up immediately.”

In the next 60 minutes the designated person arrived. He showed his official identity card as Rao took him to his desk, pulled out the envelope and handed it to him. He smiled, thanked and said, “Thank you so much Mr. Rao. Pattanaik is in Bhubaneshwar today and he asked me to come personally to collect this letter from you. I cannot reveal the contents of the letter to you but I can tell you for sure that this was an important letter containing some vital information meant to be hand delivered to none other than the highest executive of the country. Had this got lost or reached wrong hands, hell would have broken lose.”

Our hero felt as if he had just been given the Superman’s cape. He felt like a hero, having saved planet earth and slept well that night. Next morning the phone once again rang from a land line.

“Mr. Rao this is Bijay Pattanaik here. I am eternally grateful to you for what you have done. I am saving your number and shall keep it forever and should you ever need help please do not hesitate to give me a call. It is good to know that there are good people in this world still around.”

Sadashiv felt happy as he put the phone down but his mind went back to an incident that happened more than half a century ago. It was the time India was up against China in 1962. A war dispatch had come for the Brigadier in the Army Head Quarters in New Delhi. It was handed over to a young woman who was in the lower rung of civilians working in there. Since it was lunch time the woman kept the paper aside as she finished her roti subzi lunch. She returned to her table after washing the tiffin box and was aghast when she couldn’t find the important piece of war dispatch. She was panic stricken and informed her superior who too tried searching for the document but in vain. The superior asked the woman to keep quiet and not tell about the inward document to anyone. If the Brigadier were to come to know about the mistake, she would surely lose her job. But the naïve woman started crying and started checking under every file, every drawer in and around her. The commotion reached the Brigadier’s office, who soon came to know about the missing paper. The woman was called into the army man’s room and the man in full military attire asked her,” Are you sure there was a message for me?” “Ji haan, Sir.” She replied. The Brigadier was furious as she stood there shaking from head to toe.

She couldn’t do any work after the humiliating dressing down as her mind was preoccupied not with the thought of losing her job but at the impact the loss of a confidential document would have on the armed forces during war time and so she started her search once more.  And then she found the missing paper in another file on her table. In trying to be extra careful, she had tucked it away between pages of another file. The document was promptly delivered and the woman was called once again by the officer. This time the Brigadier was pleased at the honesty the woman had shown and told her if any time she needed any help, she should let him know. She said I have a sick child and it would be nice if she were to be allotted a government accommodation. The Brigadier smiled and in no time ensured the woman got an out of turn allotment of accommodation which in normal course would have taken over a decade. This was in early 1963 and by the year end Sadashiv was born to the woman.

Double helix at work you might say.

SS