Dusty ball…

Rajan had no hesitation in buying the apartment, located right front of his uncle’s house at Nagpur. Nagpur has always been his favorite city and looking for opportunity to buy a decent property there. Even though price of the apartment was quite high, he was determined to buy it. Apart, from apartment being close to his uncle’s house, he had a personal reason to buy it, which nobody knew, not even his wife, Sandya. 

Rajan, M 40, was highly successful business person. He joined his father small scale diamond business 20 years ago. He transformed the small business into big international brand with his sheer hard work and commitment. He has earned respect and accolades from his industry peers and chamber of commerce colleges. Somehow, Rajan was thankful to that apartment, for his success and buying that apartment was his personal need, rather than commercial.

Rajan, along with wife Sandhya reached to the apartment, as per scheduled inspection time. For Rajan, inspection was mere formality and he wanted to close the deal soon as possible. Realty Agent was waiting for them at society gate. Rajan asked about the owner and Agent replied that she will come within an hour; meanwhile they can inspect the property.

Apartment was located at 2^nd floor and there was no escalator. Rajan was climbing the stairs and somehow his legs started trembling and heart started beating big harder..Was it due to physical exertion in climbing stairs or burden of old memories !!!!!!!!

Agent opened the lock.. big lock.. “ Lock has changed“ Rajan murmured.. Couple entered into the apartment. It wasn’t well maintained apartment.. Walls were full of water seepage and cracks… Old type of external electrical wiring hanging around, looking shabby…. Rooms were smaller and kitchen was oddly placed… Sandhya asked in disgust “ Rajan, you want to buy THIS apartment in 4 million rupees.. Surely we will get better deal than this one,, we can buy new furnished apartment in 4 million” Agent was also sort of agreed with Sandhya… Rajan replied “ I want to buy this because it is located nearest to uncle’s house and we have already discussed about it.. I am going to buy..” Sandhya has never doubted Rajan’s financial sense and she kept silence, believing that Rajan must have something big in his mind.. But this time, it was emotions driving Rajan, rather than business, and Sandhya was not aware of it……

Rajan asked Agent, “ where is owner,, I want to finalize the deal today “..Agent obediently replied “ Sir, she is on the way.. will be here at any moment,, I have all the papers ready”…. Agent did not understand the logic behind Rajan’s urgency.

Rajan opened the rusty jammed, window and dust swirled up into the air.. From that window, Rajan could see the backyard of his uncle’s bunglow.. he used to play cricket there in his teens.  He saw a door in the left and rushed to open it… He grabbed the old rusty knob and pushed hardest as he can… but he could not open… Finally, He yelled at Agent “ Why this door is not opening ?”.. Agent replied “ It’s locked from outside. Let me open it for you.. “… Agent went outside to open and Rajan returned to the window.. He stared at backyard and remembered those SIXES, he hit, while playing the cricket during this teenage.. Those young days… … Few of those sixes, landed up in this Apartment’s balcony…. Suddenly his reminiscence were disturbed by loud noise of opening door.. He shivered by the noise and found the open balcony door…

He slowly entered into the balcony… Balcony’s white marble tiles, covered with layer of dust and filth.. It appeared that nobody has entered into the balcony since long long time… As Rajan put his shoes on it.. he felt that Balcony has enlivened.. as if she is waiting for him since ages..

Among filth, dust and few rotten boxes.. Rajan found something very magical… something he owned.. He bent it and grabbed it.. it was old dusty tennis ball.. he kept staring at the ball… that ball was waiting for him since 20 years… Ball had memories… Rajan got lost on those memories..

FLASH BACK…

20 years ago…

Rajan was dragged by his cousin to play cricket in Nagpur’s summer heat. Rajan was not interested in playing cricket, in fact he was not interested in any sport.

In teenage, Rajan considered as lazy, aimless young man with no future. He has failed higher secondary examination twice and now struggling to finish his graduation. His carefree and squandering life-attitude had given sleepless nights to his parents.  He was 21 year old and still did not passed 2^nd year of graduation and neither had any intention to do it. For family he was spoilt brat, and his father was worried about future of his and his small business.

Last week Rajan had fight with his father regarding his life style and increasing expenses. He angrily left the house and dumped himself to his uncle’s house. This was not for the first time. It happened in past also. Drill is that after sometime when father’s anger will cool down, Rajan will return to his house as usual. Contrasting family’s perception about Rajan, his uncle had feeling about hidden talent of Rajan, which was waiting for some sort of trigger to lash out.

That afternoon, cousin insisted Rajan to play cricket with him and after numerous requests, lazy Rajan agreed. Rajan was aimlessly throwing ball at him and he was hitting each ball with enthusiasm. He told Rajan, “ Do you want to see Kapil Dev’s SIX? ”.. Rajan reluctantly nodded and he threw ball at his bat. Cousin came forward and hit the ball with all the strength he had. Bat and Ball, both met at precise place, time and force. As result, ball went up in air, as much as it could and finally landed up in balcony of apartment, located at other side of the road.

Now, worry to get the ball from Balcony overshadowed the joy of six.. Rajan angrily told him” Now tell Kapil Dev to bring that ball ??” Cousin kept mum. They went to other side of road and luckily a window of that apartment was open. Cousin yelled and request for the ball. A middle aged adult came out and angrily denied the delivery “ You boys, don’t you have shame,,, how if ball hit some glass or someone’s head. Can’t you be careful ? . bla bla”.. Cousin was mature cricket street player; hence he kept silence till Uncle’s temper cools down. After venting out his anger, Uncle agreed to return the ball, with condition that this will be the last time……. There is always last time, cousin thought. Uncle closed the window.

After few seconds, balcony’s door opened and a girl came out. She picked the ball and thrown to Rajan… Their eyes meet.. and she left….

Balcony door closed, leaving Rajan awestruck by her beauty.. Thunderbolt hit Rajan… his eyes glued to empty balcony.. There was something in that girl, which hit Rajan very hard.. he was love-bitten.

Sensing Rajan’s love-struck face, Cousin commented “ Isn’t she gorgeous ?? Entire Nagpur is struck by her beauty.. “… Rajan asked  “ What’s her name ?”… Cousin replied “ I don’t know.. forget her.. she is very reserved types… “…

After that Rajan kept batting for entire day but he could not hit that Kapil Dev Sixer. He tried hard but he could not.. That night Rajan was not interested in his favorite TV shows, and he kept visiting backyard, with a hope that balcony door will open and he will be able to see that girl…. But his wish was not fulfilled… Rajan could not sleep at that night.. he kept dreaming about that girl.. again and again and again…

Next day, Rajan was more enthusiastic to play cricket than his cousin. But his cousin was somehow not interested. He had spotted the real reason behind Rajan’s newly found cricket enthusiasm and he was not very happy about it (for unknown reason)….

Somehow Rajan convinced his cousin and they played cricket. After numerous trials, Rajan was able to hit that Kapil Dev sixer, and ball was sent into the balcony for obvious reason.

Fortunately Uncle was not present at house. Balcony door opened and Rajan’s dream girl emerged. She smiled at Rajan and threw the ball.. Rajan replied “ thank you”.. Girl gingerly replied “ Please take care next time”… and she left the balcony…..

For Rajan it was heaven.. He elated as if he got the treasure of the world.. Everything else had become zero for him.. He started living another life.. It was like birth of another Rajan, who was more active and passionate.

Rajan spent whole day, in backyard… waiting for that girl. At night he could not sleep… he woke up at 2 AM and visited the backyard.. Entire world was sleeping.. Road separating his backyard from her balcony had turned silent… it was coolness and peace in atmosphere that he never experienced..it was refreshing..

He kept looking at balcony, without any reason.. Suddenly his utter amazement, balcony’s door opened and that girl came out… They both looked at each other and it was surreal moment for both of them.. They did not know their names but ready to die for each other at this moment.. It’s called Love.. or first sight love and that balcony was only witness of their affection… After few moments, showing her affection to Rajan, Girl left the balcony…

Next day Rajan was determined to meet that Girl at any cost. At very first attempt, he hit the Six and ball landed up in the balcony. Now instead asking for the ball, He decided to present himself as her friend and went to her apartment. Her apartment was locked.. big lock was hanging. From neighbor, he learnt that they have moved to Jaipur early this morning.. They have moved… Girl had gone… and not returning back for long time… Disheartened Rajan returned to home, with heavy heart..

He had so many questions to ask.. to God, to that Girl and to his luck.. but he knew that he will not get any answers back… Those questions will remain … questions !!!! He cried very hard.. and after crying, he made up his mind.. He left Nagpur and reached Mumbai.

As he reached his home, he found his father having breakfast. His father was not interested in looking at him… He told his father “ Pappa, I want to join your business”… His father was shocked by his statement. He was more shocked by his changed attitude and firm voice. Father responded that he should finish his graduation first. Rajan replied that “ I will do both.. I will complete my graduation this year, but please give a seat in your office… as trainee, as a peon.. but please give me work… “ and tears rolled down his face.. His father had never anticipated such words from his son’s mouth… He hugged him. Rajan found his new passion in his work.. but that ball was still lying in the balcony… Dust was falling on it everyday… and thus he became a dusty ball..

FLASBACK end

After nearly 20 years, Rajan was holding that ball and his old memories awakened. It was this ball, this balcony and that Girl, transformed Rajan’s character from lazy to laborious. Without them, might  be Rajan would  never able to find his true potential.  Therefore Rajan wanted to buy this house. But he never shared his true reason  with anyone and neither he will. Some facts are too personal to share with anyone.

Lost in thoughts, Rajan was holding dusty ball in his hand. Sandhya commented “why don’t you throw that ball… it’s dusty “… Rajans didn’t replied and held the ball firmly.

Agent told that house owner is waiting for them at hotel nearby with all the papers. Rajan asked the name of owner. Agent replied “ Sapna Kulkarni”… Sapna.. the name Rajan wanted to know since long long time…

On the way Rajan asked more about Sapna. Agent described the story “ They moved to Jaipur, appx.  20 years ago. His father had sudden death in heart attack and they returned to Nagpur  15 years ago. Because of her beauty and kind nature, Sapna had numerous marriage proposals, but she refused all of them for unknown reason. Eventually her mother also died, leaving Sapna alone in this house. She was working in bank. It was hard for beautiful woman as Sapna to live alone in city like ours but she did not got married. Unfortunately one day, one of her office college sneaked into Sapna’s house from apartment’s balcony and raped her.. He was caught and Police found out that he was terribly in love with Sapna and wanted to get married. Sapna’s continues refusal had made him mentally unstable.

After that incident Sapna was in deep mental depression and went for psychiatrist-treatment. When she was recovered from mental trauma, she decided to leave this house for ever and currently staying at one rented house. Now she runs a NGO for rape victims. She claims that whatever money she will get from this house, she will donate it to her NGO. Very sad story.. “

Agent took a break for moment and then continued  “ I never understood, why she was not getting married ?? A marriage could have brought happiness to her life… “

 Rajan was listening very intently. After Agent’s narration, Rajan felt terrible sense of guilt. “did she not married because of me !!! Am I responsible for her condition ??? Why I haven’t tried to find her !! ” These and many more doubts, thoughts kept emerging in Rajan’s  mind.  

Car halted and they got down. Rajan headed towards the hotel, where Sapna was waiting for him. As he saw Sapna, same lava which has been dormant for 20 years, started erupting again. Sapna’s age and traumatic past, could not vanish, charm of her beauty completely and Rajan was mesmerized again. Then he saw  his wife and controlled his emotions. He reminded himself that he is no longer teen ager boy but a father, husband and business tycoon. Practicality overruled emotionality.

Agent introduced Rajan to Sapna and they started talking about house deal. Rajan offered 6 Million Rupees for the apartment . Sapna and others were zapped by the offer. Sapna anticipated 4 million. She asked the reason for this overpriced offer. Rajan replied that “ I know you will donate this money to your NGO. Me, too want to contribute in this noble cause. “ Sapna thanked him and deal was closed at 6 Million within few minutes.

Agent took their signature on required documents. Agent ensured them that now Rajan need not to visit Nagpur further for dealing procedure. Rajan, Sandhya and Agent left the hotel table.

As Rajan was leaving the hotel, Sapna called him. He was forgetting something. He returned to her. Everybody else had left. Now there was just empty stupid table between them. Sapna handed over that dirty tennis ball to him and in very deep intense voice she told “ Mr.Rajan you are forgetting something.. this ball.. “ and she handed over that ball to him with deep pain in her eyes.

Rajan could not bear.. He collapsed on the chair.. Buried his face by his palms to hide the flowing tears… Sapna had nothing to say.. She put her arm on his shoulder and than just left…

After sometimes, he controlled himself, wiped out the tears and got into the car. Sandhya asked “ Are you going to stay in this house “. Rajan replied “never” and thrown the dirty ball out of car window..

The End

By

Vadan Mehta

Short Film "Ek Mohra Ka Safar(Journey of a Pawn)"

Dear friends

This short film is visualization of Urdu Poem ““Ek Mohra Ka Safar(Journey of a Pawn). “

“Ek Mohra Ka Safar” is urdu poem written by Mr.Javed Akhtar in his album “Tarkash”.  “Ek Mohra Ka Safar” is based this rule of chess where pawn through it’s hard struggle and survival sense, turns into more powerful piece, hence winning the battle.  During the battle, Pawn loses all his dear ones into the battle. When he wins his battle, he had joy of victory and grief of loneliness in his heart.

I have used small sony camera to shoot and video editing freeware,  to edit the movie. I have used 80W CFL bulb and two pocket LED torches for the lighting purpose.

Please read the poem and enjoy the movie.

For Movie click on :

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8N_UZ0pWiZE

The Fair Deal

The Fair Deal

At 1992 Miss Universe pageant, in final round Indian Model Madhu Sapre  was asked question” What will you do if you become prime minister of India for one day ? “ and she replied “ I will focus on creating more play grounds for children who aspire to be athletes” Watching live telecast of the event, my neighbour jumped from his chair.” What rubbish, we have so many other important problems as poverty, hunger, education ….and she wants to focus on sports!!” Next morning, newspapers were reciprocating the same..”Madhu had goofed up at last round and she lost the title by one foolish answer…” Entire episode had proven one fact… Sport as carrier,  has been last priority for Indian Middle Class and especially if sport is not cricket..

CUT To,

Time: 2011

Location: Volleyball Court (somewhere in Mumbai)

He jumped in the air and show ball is dashing on him.. he swung his arm and smashed the ball at precise speed and place.. Ball went shooting on opponents and no body dared to pick his smash… his team scored the much needed winning point… Celebration broke out..

Karan was gifted volleyball player. His aggression in smashing was very well known in his school. He loved to smash.. His service was good but smashing was electrifying.. He had talent. Karan had started playing volleyball at age of ten at their parking tuning into playground at his society. Slowly he developed interest in the game and joined school’s volleyball team. He had stamina, fitness and temper; much needed basic ingredients to be a sportsman.

Today Karan was more than happy. His school had won Junior inter school championship and he was chosen as player of tournament award. He rushed to his house with his trophy and beaming face. His parents celebrated his victory. His mother, Manjula made kheer and father, Chunilal gave him a pen as a gift. Karan kissed his much loved trophy again and again. Winning a trophy is a wonderful thing. It is recognition of hard work. It inspires to do more, motivates to achieve more..

That night Karan saw a dream that A door has opened and gush of sunshine was emanating from the room. Karan went inside the room and Room lit up with bright sun light.. Flowers petals were flying in the air.. He found another  door at opposite corner.. He opened that door and it was another room with white glow.. He inside the room and found another door at far end.. … His doors of opportunities are opening…..

Meanwhile Karan was lost in his inspiring dreams, his father Chunilal was disturbed. As Manjula switched off their bed room light and laid next to him. Chunilal murmured.. “ I am worried about Karan”. Manjual replied “why.. what happened !!”… Chunilal exhaled “ This volleyball… I am worried that Karan is playing too much of volleyball..”… Manjula surprised “ There is nothing to worry about it.  In fact this is good.. He is using his time in something creative, in stead of just playing online games or chatting on facebook “… Chunilal elaborated “Manjula, you don’t understand.. He is in 9^th standard. Next year will be 10^th….SSC board…  If does not start focussing on his studies now, he will have problem at 10^th standard. He has to do well at 10^th otherwise his entire future will jeopardize.”  Manula consoled him” Not to worry. He will focus on his studies. He understands that.. Even if he want to make carrier in volleyball, what’s wrong in it !!! “Listening to this, Chunilal shouted..” Are you mad !! Carrier in volleyball.. What he will get playing Volleyball !! A job in bank or railway for few thousands rupees !! There is no money in volleyball.. No money means no future… Cricket is different thing… I don’t’ like him playing volleyball.. !!”  Manjua kept shut on this and slept,  leaving Chunilal alone with his worries.

Karan’s aim was to get selected in state junior volleyball team. He worked very hard for that. He played all the matches at various places, cities and towns. He kept practising his smashing technique and took care of his fitness. Entire year, He was totally committed to his passion, Volleyball.  Naturally his interest on his studies was diminishing. He could not concentrate on his subjects in his classroom. Karan passed 9^th standard. His grades were not good as Chunilal expected.  His grades were dropped from A+ to B-, which was matter of great concern to his father. Whenever Chunilal saw Karan, he reminded him of studies. Seeing the passion and commitment of Karan for Volleyball, Chunilal could not dare him to stop from playing even if he heartily wished that…

Finally day had come for Karan to realize his yearlong dream to be in state’s junior team. Today Maharashtra volleyball Association had called all the deserving players for junior volleyball team selection. Karan, as expected was selected for Maharashtra state junior team. His wish was fulfilled. Now he will play for his state. He had to tour whole India to play volleyball.. His dream journey continued.

He reached home joyously with the news. Chunilal had shown some cosmetic pleasure to the news. At dinner, Chunilal was zapped by the fact that Karan has travel entire India for the volleyball matches. He wondered that about the missing school days !! Karan had no clear answer. Chunilal advised him that he is in 10^th standard now and can’t afford to miss his classes & tuitions, in fact he should stop playing volleyball… Karan was very angry on this and left his dinner in midway.

Karan was facing window and staring darkness outside. Chunilal came to him and caressed his hair.. He urged Karan the importance of the education. He explained the future of volleyball player and the money he is going to earn out of volleyball. Karan looked at his father worried eyes.. Karan found hurting truth in his arguments. Chunilal requested Karan to focus on his studies and leave volleyball, at least for this year. Karan had never seen his father in such worried state.

His young mind was confused between his desire and his father’s plea. In fact both were equally appealing to him. He loved to play volleyball and that is also true that there is no great future for the sport. Half of his team-mates did not knew the captain of Indian volleyball team!!  Volleyball is not like Cricket where money and fame is residing. Nobody watches Volleyball. He remembered the empty stadiums of volleyball matches, he played or watched !!!! More the thought about the dilemma, more he got confused. It was like heart vs brain… dream vs reality.. Passion vs practicality!!

Bowing to family pressure, Karan started skipping his volleyball matches, only to spend more times with his text books. Karan used to lock himself for hours in his study room, not to study but to stare at his books.. As his body drifted away from volleyball court, his mind leaned more towards it. In his study room, Karan used to imagine about his volleyball practices, game strategies and team-mates… He drew volleyball court, on this mathematics worksheet. Passion is like magnetic force, one can’t be detached easily, once attached.

Karan did badly in his first monthly evaluation test.   Chunilal became very panic.. He literally begged Karan to focus on his studies. Influenced by Chunilal’s emotional appeal, Karan decided to focus on his studies and forget everything else. Lost in these thoughts, his cell phone rung. Call was from Maharashtra Volleyball Association. They told Karan to prepare for interstate tournament at Hariyana, next week. There will be 10 days of tour at Hariyana to play Volleyball against other state teams.

Karan was thrilled by the news. But very next moment his joy was disappeared. He remembered his resolution to focus on study. Extreme desire to play and Extreme pressure to study !!!   Perturbed Karan could not sleep. He did not have daring to speak to his father about the tour; neither he could let his dream shatter.

Finally next morning, he nervously raised the subject of the tour at breakfast table. Listening to him,
Chunilal jumped from his chair and shouted at him, for first time in his life. He ordered Karan to tour.. How can he be out of school for 10 days in such important SSC year !!!!! Having no other choice, Karan simply obeyed.

Karan went to Maharashtra Volleyball Association office and withdrew himself from the team. His application was accepted. As Karan came out of the office, He felt very heavy heart… He realized that his long cherished dream had just died… died in front of him.. He wanted to cry aloud.. He felt that earth beneath him is cracking and hot Lava is emanating from it.. He felt that big skyscraper above him is about to fall… Cars surrounding him are blown apart and flying in air as if birds… He tightly closed his ears and eyes….

From that day onwards, Karan’s interaction with outer world became minimal. Chunilal took that as sign of his growing seriousness to his studies.  Karan, locked in his room kept thinking about why it is so bad to play volleyball !! What’s wrong in following his passion !! Is money everything in the world ! May be he can win Gold medal for India in Olympics !! May be he can contribute in popularizing Volleyball in India and the world !!!

Karan kept engulfed himself in such thoughts, growing his inner frustration. Finally, Karan decided that he will bluntly tell his father that he can’t study and will  play volleyball only, even if he throws him out of house. Karan dashed out of his room and stood right in front of Chunilal. Chunilal was reading news paper and he looked at Karan from his glasses. Karan was speechless in front of his father.. He could not be blunt as he thought.. There was some unknown force, preventing him from doing so.. Chunilal asked him “What !!!”.. Karan could hardly open his mouth and spoke “I… need some money… thousand “… Chunilal gave him money, without asking the reason.

Karan was not scared of his father. His problem was that he loved him…

Karan dashed out his house and went to beer bar.  He drank as much beer he can. Finally he headed towards his house, with each step fumbling.. He was walking on the road aimlessly. He had no direction.  He saw a car approaching him and BANG… Car hit him… He jumped in the air by car-hit.. When he was in air, he saw a ball approaching him. He raised his arm to Smash it… Everything went blank afterwards.

When Karan opened his eyes, he was in hospital bed with his family surrounding him. Nearest was his father Chunilal. His mother was weeping hard. Chunilal caressed his hair and very sad voice explained to him :

“ You were hit hard by a car. You right leg was totally damaged and doctors have to amputate it. You have no right leg now.. You have to use crutches  for entire life.”

Karan looked at his body and found no right leg. Tears rolled down on his cheeks … “I have no right leg.. I can’t walk on my own.. I can’t play volleyball… I can’t play volleyball… “

Suddenly his sadness evaporated. “ Thank god I can’t play volleyball now.. I am ineligible to play the game.. Now I can focus on my education completely without any confusion. Pain of not able to follow the passion is much worse than loosing one leg… Destiny has given me a fair deal..”

He leaned back and exhaled relaxed breath..

Regds

vadan

Pinki’s Compass box

Pinki, student of class 5^th of Kadi Municipal high school, was in great worry. She searched her school bag, her elder sister school bag, old paper box… entire house but could not found her one and only COMPASS BOX…. Compass box is a small metal box, containing all the instruments to draw mathematical diagrams as circle, triangle, square etc and mostly used by children for educational purpose.

This compass box was kind of ancestral property, which was passed on by her elder brother to her elder sister and finally came to her. She supposed to pass  the compass box to her little sister, when she will reach to 7^th grade.

Pinki had two more years to study. When she will reach to 7^th grade, she will join her elder sister in cleaning utensils, washing clothes and sweeping floors.. work as house maid.

Karshan was least interested in his children’s education, especially girls. He was keenly waiting Pinki to be 10 years old so that she can start earning money for him. Children, for him were source of income only. He was least worried about his responsibilities as father. He enrolled Pinki to the school just to get free midday meal for her. Government’s free midday meal at schools have tempted many poor parents to send their children to the schools, not for study, but  to get one time full meal in a day, free.

Pinki was not like her other siblings. She had developed interest in her study books, especially mathematics. She liked the elements of her compass box and liked to draw circles, triangles, squares. She liked to measure everything, by her small scale. She used to draw various sizes of circles and measured their diameters, just for fun. She was gradually losing interest in old gifted dolls and leaning towards measuring length and breadth of surrounding objects by her little scale.  Compass box was box of energy and enthusiasm for her. But today she had lost it and she was very worried for that…

When she returned from the school, she could not found her compass box in her school bag. She feared that she might have forgotten at class room and she rushed back to the school.  Sadly she could not found the box there. Her worn school bag had holes from which Compass box could have slipped out. She searched entire way from home to school as carefully as her little eyes can do but box could not be found. She doubted her younger sister, might have stolen it !!! She searched entire house but box could not be found. Finally at night, tired and dejected Pinki, accepted the fact that she had lost her compass box.

Under the moon and stars, little Pinki could not sleep. She had mathematics exam after 2 days. She was dreaming to draw diagrams in the exam but her dream shattered without compass box. She did not dare to ask about new compass box to her father, fearing big SLAP on the face.. Neither she wanted to give more trouble to her mother, who was always cribbing about weak finances. Now whom should she ask for the help  !! She looked at the moon above.. A circle.. “what can be the diameter ? ” she wondered. She positioned the moon between her fingers and thumb to measure imaginary diameter of the moon.  If she would have compass box, she would have measured it by her scale..?? “ Will I  never have compass box ?” Pinki shivered by the thought.

Crisis makes mind to think hard for the solution and on positive note sometimes increases the horizon of intellect. Next morning, 6 years old Pinki, had mature look on the face. She started thinking on ways to obtain compass box. She saw her elder sister Maya fiddling with her artificial jewellery box. Maya had stopped her schooling since age of 10 and now working as house maid to one rich family. She is earning reasonably good amount of money and always praising her employer, a gentle Lady, for her kindness. .  “ Maya is always praising her employer for her kindness. Why can’t I request her to get new Compass box ? May be she will help out of kindness  ” Thought tweet in Pinki’s mind.

Pinki went to Maya and explained her misery and need for money. Maya took her at her employer’s house. Maya’s employer was nice, gentle rich lady. She had gracious look and very mild sweet voice. She heard about Pinki’s need for compass box. She smiled and replied “Don’t worry Pinki, we will get you a fine compass box. “ Smile flickered on Pinki’s face. Lady’ assurance was like relaxing breeze. Gentle lady continued “ Our terrace is not been cleaned for months. Just sweep it once”…

There is no free Lunch in this world, not even for small Pinki. Pinki had to clean huge terrace to get small compass box. Pinki had no option. She took the sweeper and went to the terrace. Terrace was huge and lonely, waiting for someone to clean it. White tiles were dusty. Pinki started sweeping it..

The blazing sun, dirt and vastness of terrace, could not dither Pinki’s resolute to own a compass box. She kept sweeping, kept moving her hands and legs.. The cloud of dust engulfed her and she saw a compass box in it !!! Unknown internal forces have charged Pinki and 6 years old was not feeling tiredness at all.

Pinki swept for 2 hours and removed all the dust and dirt from terrace. Her face and her cloths were dusty but soul was shining.  She was eagerly waiting for her compass box. The Gentle lady came to inspect her work and was delighted. She offered her big glass of orange juice, which made Pinki happy. Once Pinki finished the juice, Lady smilingly tinged “ You swept really good but there are stains on tiles.. It requires scrubbing. Maya, give few buckets of water to Pinki so that  she can scrub hard on those dirty stains..” and she left.

Pinki was angry on Gentle lady’s gentleness. It was really hard to understand whether her gentleness is part of her nature or her way of achieving her goal !!!!  “  Whatever .. they are rich people !! I have to do what she is saying “  thought Pinki and started scrubbing as fast as possible.  

While scrubbing the tiles with water and her dripping sweat, Pinki observed a young boy, nearly same age as her, playing in garden outside. Suddenly Gentle Lady rushed and shouted “ Mukul, come inside..It’s so hot.. You will catch heat… “ Mukul rushed inside. Watching this,  Pinki felt unknown pain inside.. A sense of injustice..  “Rich people” she murmured and started scrubbing again.

After 4 hours of intense work, terrace looked afresh and shining. Each tile of terrace, thanking Pinki for giving them renewed life. Pinki’s whole body was in pain. Gentle lady appraised Pinki for her work and advised “ Whenever you need anything for your study, you just come to me.. I will give you.. I like to help poor students…” Pinki stared at her with disbelief.

Lady called Mukul “ Mukul, get your old Compass “. Mukul came out with his old Compass box and handed over to Pinki. Lady tweeted “ Mukul had purchased new compass yesterday and  so we don’t need this one.. It has all the instruments.. Check it”….

Pinki felt metal of the box. It was cold.. Box was old for them, not for her.. For her this compass box was life, was dream, was fruit of her hard work .. Touch of the box was sweet and energizing. She opened it  and saw all the instruments, she loved.. Circles, Triangles, Scale.. This compass box had two scales.. small and large..

Pinki felt that abundant rays of light are emanating from Compass box, and penetrating into her body… She forgot sweeping, scrubbing, dust and pain. She just ran towards her house. She wanted to grab paper and draw diagrams of her interest.

I conclude my short story here and leave Pinki on her destiny. Will Pinki study further and able to drag her family out of poverty? Will Karshan allow Pinki to study further, after knowing her hard work on cleaning terrace ?  I don’t know..

One thing, for sure, till girl like Pinki need to wash terrace for a Compass Box, We can’t be called a superpower.  We have long way to go…

by Vadan Mehta

Colorful Holi ( 2 short stories) ..

Two short stories are about Pinku, the painter who has discovered  his suppressed talent and Dimple, the scooter who received new life during Holi celebration.

Pinku the painter

Pinku(M 26) came to Mumbai from small town of Bihar appx. ten years ago to earn money. His father died at very early age and Pinku, as elder brother had responsibility for his sister’s marriage and Sahukar’s debt, his father has taken to start new business. Unfortunately his father died suddenly before establishing his business. Money had been spent, debt had not been repaid and business terminated without taking off. Pinku had no choice than to travel to Mumbai and earn money for his family.

From childhood, Pinku had talent to paint. Colors charmed him. He saw a character in each color. Whenever he saw cinema, he never interested in Hero, songs or dialog, but keenly watching colors and textures of the movie. When he painted his room with just clay and chalk, entire village had appreciated his work. If he had taken birth to rich parents, he could have been a famous painter. But unfortunately, due to his illiteracy, rural background and lack of knowledge of outer world,   he did not realize the true potential of his talent. To satisfy his need to work with colors, he decided to be a painter .. to color house walls, in fact.

As he arrived at Mumbai, his friend had found him job of assistant painter. He supposed to assist the painter, in color mixing, scrubbing the wall and cleaning up at end. Slowly Pinku started showing his talent in painting.. He liked colors and his job required to be with colors and shades.. He enjoyed his job. Within year, he established himself as painter and need not required to work as assistant any longer.

Pinku had eye for details. He never left smallest corner untouched. When he was painting wall, he was painting as true artist paint their canvass. Each wall he faced, each day, was new canvass for him, alas nobody had noticed his hidden talent. He received few words of  appreciation and few hundreds rupees extra as tip. He was satisfied with that.

Pinku’s reputation grew as passionate painter in his circle and color contractors wanted to hire him for expensive projects. He painted numerous celebrities houses and five star hotel’s ball rooms. In spite of all this success, Pinku had a pain in his heart. He never allowed to paint colors he liked. He had to follow the orders of his masters. Sometimes, house owners select pathetic color schemes and his artist heart used to cry but he remained calm and suffered. He knew his boundaries as small painter, very well. One day..

That day, Pinku was scheduled to paint a well-known painter’s house. That Painter namely Abuzak, was so busy in painting for clients and international art-galleries that he did not had time to paint his own house. When Pinku reached to his house, Abuzak had not purchased any paint or decided color scheme. Abuzak had so many things in his brain that he did not had time to think about this petty thing.. He handed over bundle of cash to  Pinku and told “ you can color whatever you want. It should look nice. I will be back after two days and I wanted painting to be finished by that.. I want everything to be clean, when I return.. “ He handed over entire house to Pinku and left. Pinku was amazed by his weird attitude.  First time Pinku had chance to paint as per his likings. He had been given freedom to express his suppressed talent.  

Abuzak’s house was furnished with very meager furniture and it was not well taken care of.. Pinku felt feeling of sadness, feeling of being ignored, emanating from the house.  House was crying for change and he decided to makeover. He bought colors and brushes as per his color schemes.  He selected colors which brings freshness to the house. He combined various colors and created new colors, which nobody has seen before. He immersed into his painting, pouring his heart on to the walls. That day painter’s house has witnessed another painter with same passion and intensity, the difference is one was internationally known, rich, intellectual painter, while another was just a…..painter. 

During his lunch break, Pinku saw few painting of Abuzak. He could not understand meaning  of it but he felt that those painting had something which drawing him deeper,,,, something which could not be interpreted  but still appealing to him !!!!

Pinku painted for two days constantly day and night. When he finished his artwork, he took final look at his work, painted walls. As any artist, he was not satisfied with his work and he thought about possible improvements but he did not have time. House was beaming with new colors and had become a master piece in itself.

When Abuzak arrived, he was astonished. He was speechless. He saw colors and patterns he has never seen before. He felt like he is moving into an art gallery and enjoying best performances of artists. He never imagined that dull walls also can be canvass for creation. He felt the true potential of Pinku’s talent. He saw Pinku in his colorful shirt and face full of various color drops… He asked “ I am sure you have not slept for two days”..

Pinku shyly replied “Yes”.. Abuzak wondered “How you did this..? How did you.. combined colors ?..” Pinku replied “ I knew.. “.. Abuzak thought at bit and asked him “Will you work for me.. ?” Pinku asked” what should I paint ?” Abuzak pointed to his painting “ These… you just paint for me, fill my canvass with your colors… I will get your painting sold “…

Illiterate painter from Bihar, did not understood world of professional paintings. He simply asked “ Will I earn 6000 Rs. per month ?” Abuzak smiled and put his hand on his shoulder .. “Don’t worry my friend,, you will earn much more than that.. I assure you I will pay you 15,000 per month.. You just paint. Show me your talent,, explore yourself.. I will teach you emotions,, you teach me colors.. “

Even though Pinku could not understand what Abuzak told, but he had calling. He knew that those paintings can be his future, the only future he had..  He agreed and they decided to start his new assignment from tomorrow.

When Pinku left Abuzak’s house, in excitement, he forgot that his cloths and face were filled by various colors. He thought to return and change the cloths.. but he did not because today was HOLI. Whole world is celebrating with colors, thing he loved most…

On the road, people were playing Holi with each other and throwing colors. Nobody touched him since he was already filled by colors, TRUE colors… Amidst the enjoying crowd he spread his arms and looked at sky. He saw various colors, emanating from his arms, are filling the clean blue sky… He felt liberated and his journey to explore his talent has begun. He wished Abuzak, ,” Happy Holi”…

Dimple the Scooter

Her owner used to take care of her pretty well. She used to wash her every day, feed oil and patrol when needed. She used to love her and given her name, Dimple. Dimple had pure white body with flashy lights and loud-mouthed horn. She was proud scooter till one day.

That day her owner suddenly disappeared. She was waited whole day, but her owner did not turn up. From that day, nobody had touched Dimple. She was lying in corner with no hopes. Her white body was littered by garbage, dust and bird droppings. There was time when she was best looking among the scooters but now she has been thrown to the corner just to rot. She cried to God to give her an owner. But who wants to own a shabby, dirty scooter, who has not been used for years !!! Dimple, residing at the corner of society parking, passing her days by awaiting an owner or a scrap dealer !

Bikram and Janvi was newly married couple. They fell in love and got married and marriage ruined their love story. After marriage to pay the EMI and credit card bills, both of them started working and working hard. Bikram started his new side business which was taking up his after-office hours. Because of lake of time for each other, they started drifting away from each other. Physical separation was converting into emotional separation.

That day Bikram came late as usual and Janvi was asleep. When Bikram saw his wife, he thought that “Is this girl I loved and sworn to live together forever ? Where is that girl, who used to wait for me till midnight for dinner ? Where is that girl, who had love in her eyes for me !! Where is the love.? What’s happening to my married life ? “ As he thought more about his ruining married life, he realized  that its’ not only Janvi who, had changed, he also had become static husband. He realized that if he is not able to get his married life back on track now, surely he might lose it forever !!!

Next morning, Janvi was watching other playing Holi from her balcony and as always, Bikram was sleeping. Janvi remembered that how they used to play Holi prior to marriage with their friends ! How Bikram used to throw bucket of water despite her requests and threats… all these romantic moments have confined to memories only.. Life has changed and changed for the worse.

While Janvi was lost in such depressive thoughts, suddenly a hand rubbed her cheek with red color.. Janvi shocked and saw Bikram.. She got angry ..” What are you doing ? You are spoiling my cloths.. It’s brand new dress…”… Bikram got disappointed by her reply.. He turned down his face with sad sorry.. He left the room..

Red-faced Janvi realized that she had chance to revive their lost love.. It was her opportunity to energize their married life.. A spoiled dress can make their life happy once again.. and she lost the chance.. she lost it..

Disappointed Bikram went to take bath.. When he came out and he saw Janvi with full of water bucket waiting for him.. !!! He resisted “ Look Janvi.. don’t be stupid.. you are going to drench TV… “ Suddenly he realized .. “This is the chance stupid.. grab it.. hell with TV.. “.. He rushed into the bathroom and came out with another bucket full of water.. Janvi scremt “NO Bikram.. I don’t like water.. (actually she did.. J) and ran out of house.. Bikram followed her..

At outside Birkam spotted Janvi and threw the water on her… She ducked and gush of water fell on Dimple, the scooter.. Stream of water had washed her.. all the dirt and mess was removed.. Bikram emptied another water bucket, hitting Dimple again.. Two buckets of water had washed Dimple and she regained her elegant white color.. She became graceful again.

After playing the holi with each other, couple regained their lost love. Looking at serene white scooter, Janvi asked Bikram.. “This scooter looks very beautiful… who owns it ?” Bikram replied that scooter belonged to someone who has migrated to Canada. Janvi replied that “ Can we buy this ? I really like this scooter… “ Bikram had no problem with that..

Dimple the scooter was listening to couple’s talk and thanking Holi to make her life again..

Regds

vadan

Corruption in Blood

As a writer I generally, take inspiration from my past incidents which I have heard or experienced. I still remember one such incident which was narrated by my brother 15 year ago when I was teenager and he was struggling to establish his first business. He told me that he has given bribe of Rs. one lakh to minister as part of the business deal. The minister had taken oath just few hours ago and it was his first bride deal after becoming minister. He was so excited and eager to feel the money that he called meeting at midnight to clear the papers. After clearing the papers at 1 am, he travelled 150 kms with my brother to collect the cash. When he touched the cash at 3 Am he relaxed as if he has got the fruit of his hard work. My story "Corruption in Blood" revolves around this real incident.

State Minister of heavy industry Murty Rai (MR, M 55)) had a meeting with Shah Business group. Shah group had business plan to invest 100 cr in the state mining industry. They wanted govt permission and assistance to establish the necessary infrastructure. MR and his bureaucratic team, were listening to the proposal, presented by Junior Shah. While Jr Shah was describing the benefits enthusiastically,  Senior Shah was observing MR's reaction. MR had done his homework and knew the financial strength and business intentions of Shah Group. Honestly, He arranged this meeting just to finalize the bribe amount. 

As Jr Shah was elaborating the proposals and its benefits to state people, MR grew impatient, as if he was least bothered about it. He intervened and asked " All these tech details you can discuss with my state secretary. ' Then he adjusted his glass, cleared his throat, hunched forward and whispered “ Explain, how will I benefit ? " It was quite upfront and naked exhibition of MR's immoral desire. 

Jr Mehta did not quite understood the meaning of MR’s question, but Sr Mehta red the wide open eyes of MR. He had dealt with many politicians like MR in past and red their greedy eyes many times.  He ordered his team to vacate the room and wait outside. When everybody left, MR felt like he is facing open vault filled with golden biscuits. He required just to fill his bags with biscuits. So tempting  !!

Sr Mehta offered partnership but MR was interested in raw cash. Finally after intense bargain one crore was decided. Half the amount should be paid in advance and half after proposal is passed. Knowing the MR's reputation Shah had brought 50 lakh with him. Money made MR happy and smile flickered on his face first time since morning. His attitude changed and become friendlier and warmer with Shah. He thanked and assured his help.

Shah's proposal file moved from table to table like a bullet train, very rare as per government standards. Money's magical power had charged up lazy bureaucrats and the proposal was passed within a week. Finally MR signed the proposal and granted legal license to Shah Group to commence the mining project. Sr Shah thanked MR for unbelievable efficiency shown by his team and promised to pay the balance fifty lakh next week when he will return to India. MR agreed. 


That afternoon MR supposed to attend his Party workers gathering at Azad maidan(Ground). He supposed to give inspirational speech to his party workers gathered from every part of the state. Internally he hated this kind of public function because of its dusty, hot environment and messiness. He was accustomed to air conditions, soft chairs and clean surroundings. But as party leader he had to do all these non-sense drill. He had to maintain impression of mass leader who had ability to attract, appeal and appease common man by his inspiring speeches. 

MR arrived at venue in his open jeep. The Azad ground was filled by party workers and he was greeted by his younger brother Subba Rai(M 45). Subba was very obedient young brother of MR. He was manager of his political activities and accountant of his black financial transactions. He kept track of all business deals of MR.  He had arranged this party meeting as routine PR activity. He handed over the speech to MR. Speech written by well known bollywood dialogue writer had all the emotional ingredients to impress the public.


While MR was mesmerizing people by his eloquence, professional sharp shooter Hayan targeting him from distance.  Hayan had focussed his rifle's focal lance on MR and waiting from perfect posture to shoot. As MR turned right his skull became clear to Hayan and he shoot..... First bullet hit MR's forehead and second bullet pierced his neck. MR fell down, agonizing in pain. 
Hayan disappeared soon after and every one was clueless about who fired the bullets. Subba rushed to his brother and placed his face on his lap. MR's blood was flowing profusely. Adding misery, his jeep also did not start due to technical error. Party workers rushed to arrange another vehicle to carry MR at nearest hospital. Suddenly all the vehicles were out of sight.

MR was losing his life. He opened his mouth to utter last words .. " 20 lakh Ruia " he murmured, Subba was listening intently. "  40 lakh Kotak " he continued.  Subba nodded "yes and .. " MR assembled his left over energies and groaned"  50 lakh Mehta and …one crore...." Subba asked impatiently "One crore WHOM !!?”

But before MR could answer He passed away, leaving Subba fuming. "He should have told about One crore at first  " He angrily murmured and dumped his brother's dead body on ground. Very next moment he realized the situation. He grabbed MR's dead body and started crying loudly. 

Once MR dead body was taken, Subba went to reporters and told them  about MR’s last words  before dying  “ Bhaiyaaji apologized everyone for not able to serve any longer and he thanked God for everything. He gave me his blessing to fulfil his dreams.”  Thus He was indirectly nominating him as his political heir. The party workers started crying, listening to Subba’s statement. Well as we know his brother's last words were about his due bribe transactions and nothing else. He lived for money and died with money in his heart. He had corruption in his blood.

As expected Subba won the election and lobbied hard for his brothers ministerial berth. He succeeded and become heavy industry minister as his brother. His dream came true. After swearing in ceremony he resumed his duty as minister for first time. His first task was to collect balance amount from Ruia, Kotak and Shah. He also wanted to fish out one crore details.



Even though Subba has been part of numerous bribe transactions of MR, he has not received any bribe as minister, for himself. Till now he has acted as agent of his brother, from today he will be Master and collecting money for himself. He had planned out every details: How to raise bribe rates, How to attract more business deals? What is unexplored business area ? Where to invest ? etc… He was very much eager to get his first bribe as minister.

While he was engrossed in such thinking, he received call from Sr Shah. Shah offered his consolation for MR’s death. Subba was least interested on MR’s death but waiting to talk about 50 Lakh and Shah was not sure whether to take matter with Subba or not ! Finally breaking the mould of hesitation, Subba asked him about fifty lakh’s donation, MR has told about. Shah replied that he can give the donation amount, whenever he wants. Subba was excited by the offer. He could not hide his greed to own fifty lakhs. Subba replied that he wanted his donation by tonight. Shah replied that cash is lying at his house at Bandongri and by he will arrange somebody to deliver cash to Subba’s residence tomorrow but Subba could not wait for tomorrow. Bandongri is hill station 150 Km, far from Subba’s residence. He replied that he will travel 150 Km tonight only to receive the cash. Sr Shah was amazed by Subba’s hunger for Money.

That night, forgetting all ego and ministerial proud, Subba Rai travelled 150 Km in his private vehicle to Bandongri. In the path, he did not see the poor slum, queue of women at water tap, hungry roadside children, tattered govt school, potholes on roads…. he was busy in financial planning of his 50 Lakhs instead.

When he reached to Shah’s house, he sent his driver to collect the cash. Those last minutes was unbearable.. he could not wait any longer.. his heart was thumping for. Money .. money .. my money!! He was wondering what will be the colour of suitcase !! Red, black.. and he blushed.. Finally driver returned, holding the black suitcase along with Jr Shah.

As driver reached, Subba just snatched the suitcase. He opened it and felt the smell of money… Jr Shah invited the minister for dinner but he did not have time. Without answering or looking at Jr Mehta,  He just got into his car and drove off.

His car stopped at one shabby apartment. His driver came out with same suitcase. He went inside the apartment. He knocked the door and one shabby hand came out. He handed over the cash. Hand grabbed the suitcase and door was closed. Driver returned to the car and drove off.

That hand belonged to Hayan. MR’s non functional jeep and delay in arranging other vehicle at time of his death, was not accidental, incidental.



Written By

Vadan