Pass and Aggregate Chapter13: My own Space

Chapter 13:My own Space

City like Mumbai can boasts of its greatness but if it writes an autobiography of itself, it might regret the pigeon-hole like residences that it offers to most of the people. If one need a spacious and decent and low cost residence here than that person would be day dreaming in all probability. After settling down in my office I started searching for the accommodation. I was not alone in this pursuit of searching but was accompanied by Kripal, my friend, colleague and guide. Kripal was staying in Mumbai since one year but he had to shift because of the enormous distance he had to travel for work. 

Finally our search ended in a small Paying Guest accommodation. Although it was not luxurious but was fairly decent and going by the rent that we had to shell out, our pockets were not unhappy.

“Appa, I managed to get a good place”, I told my dad over the phone. After coming to Bombay it was a routine or rather a religious routine to call my parents at least twice every day. No sooner I left for Bombay; Akshyaa got selected in IIM, Ahmedabad and moved out. Now my parents were all alone. My mother at times felt so lonely at home that she would often cajole me to come back to Delhi but I was firm to face the city in all my might.

Our residence was in Kalina, it is a place near the Airport. Although the place was a small and the area was ordinary but somehow I still liked it.

The PG was owned by a Maharashtrian guy named Shri Ramjirao Patil who was a small time politician in Satara. He had purchased the flat for his only son Vishnurao Patil, who was working in Mumbai. Vishnu was not a great guy but he was not bad either albeit strange, mostly he kept to himself except for the day of rent when he sat and chatted with us for few minutes. I always have opinion about everyone right from the people I meet in trains and buses to all my friends and co-workers but I never had an opinion about this guy. He came home late and by the time we left for office he was sleeping in his bed. To me he was hardly existent.

Although Vishnu was absent most of the times but the most noteworthy accessory of that place was Karsan kaka, the house keeper. He was very old, I mean even the fold on his skins, and the frown on his forehead appeared older than the ‘Gateway of India’. He was a Gujrati and had come to Bombay 65 years ago from Gujarat to become a Bollywood hero. Obviously he could not become one but going back from Bombay is never the case for anybody who has once landed here. He was very interesting person and erudite too. He became a cook, and worked at several places. He was so good at cooking food and stories. I would often listen to him in rapt attention but I never believed those stories, to me those were the wild imagination of the senile masterpiece of the house. “Sachi Kahoon Chu!” (I am speaking the truth!)  He would often exclaim shaking his head in affirmative after finishing some story. He knew I hardly believed him but he always emphasized that they were true. 

But those were interesting stories. I remember that night when he told me a story. Karsan Kaka started at once “In the year of 1954, I was working at a Historian’s house. The Historian was an old Retired History Professor called William Scott. After the British left India in 1947 the Professor stayed back, for he was in search of a treasure. According to the Professor, once a young British man was in India for search of a lost treasure, he was a gold digger. The young lad whose name was Andrew Hobart was able to find the lost treasure in the jungles of Madhya Pradesh. But while he was on his voyage back to England he died in mysterious circumstances on board of the vessel Queen Mary. No one knew the reason of his death. Was it some conspiracy to kill him or was it some unknown disease that he encountered in India. There was no sign of any treasure in his belongings. Although it was a widely reported case in the colonial days and was also a very popular topic amongst the social circles at coffee tables yet it never reached a conclusion.” 

All of a sudden Karsan Kaka started coughing “old age” he remarked, he continued after clearing his throat.

 “My master, William found the diary that belonged to Andrew Hobart from a scrap dealer in the year 1942, 20 years after Andrew Hobart died. He bought the diary at 50ps from the scrap dealer.”

“What 50 paise”! Kripal exclaimed.

“It was a big amount in those days for an old book at the scrap dealer” said kaka.

“After he read the diary Professor found that Andrew Hobart never took full the treasure with him but he hid it somewhere so that he could arrange for the logistics to take away the treasure. But he died. Those days they never kept the dead body at ship, they might have thrown him into the sea after his rituals, the diary would have been in his belongings which were thrown with him and thus the diary would somehow made it to shore and was kept with scrap dealer till master found it.”

 “The diary was not in the best of its condition; the Professor had to read it and made notes out of it. Few things that he was able to conclude from the diary was, Andrew Hobart stayed at Taj Mahal Hotel after discovering the treasure, which was proof enough that he had found something in value that allowed him to stay in the luxurious hotel. The other thing and the more important thing was that he had hidden the treasure in some vicinity of Taj Mahal Hotel. The actual place of treasure was either not written or the page was not found. Andrew Hobart mentioned about the Gateway of India and also drew a sketch of the Gateway in his diary. Professor was sure that the treasure was somewhere near the Gateway. He made frequent rounds of the gateway, often sitting there till late at night.”

“When I started working for him, he never talked to me much but later I became his student as well as his friend. He even taught me English and gave me books to read. I liked working with him. He was a loner, his wife died long ago and his only daughter was married off in London. I never saw her. The Professor was sure that treasure was buried under one of the big stones that surrounded the gateway but he had no idea how Andrew Hobart could hide it.”

“Once in the lazy summers of May, I was sleeping under the tree when Professor called me, I went running towards his room”.

“I know Karsan, Andrew had in fact written a riddle, on the last page of this diary, I solved it” exclaimed the professor pointing to the diary.

“But before I could even gather anything about it, the Professor suffered from a Heart Attack. I ran out of house calling for help but by the time I got a help was no more. Leaving behind his notes, Andrew Hobart’s Diary and the unsolved riddle of the treasure.”

“I still have the Diary of Andrew Hobart and his notes but all these years I could never understand it” said Karsan Kaka remorsefully.

I was dumb founded by this revelation of Karsan Kaka. I could not mistrust him this time as I actually saw the diary and notes. May be the treasure was waiting for me to be found. The diary’s last page had the letters inscribed.

“The full moon light and the Crown so Bright, no water of the sea but a stream from ravine    in the sultry  vault of the equine, leads to the steps beneath boulder, to lay finger on mammon remove the solder ”

I kept on wondering what could be the answer to the riddle but I never got an idea. I even thought that may be at least once; even I should give a try to the treasure hunt. I had to convince kaka and Kripal for they thought it could be dangerous but I could never take that thought out of my mind.

Although I was busy in my own world of office yet returning to home and sitting with Karsan kaka was always great. Kripal and kaka were my family in Mumbai, my home was a place where I could relax and enjoy. After all it was my place my little own world, my treasure.

Pass And Agrregate:Chapter 12 Dream and Nightmares

Chapter 12: Dreams and Nightmares 

Dreams do not necessarily become reality and I was not late in realizing this. Within a few days after reaching Bombay I got to know the real face of Bombay or Mumbai as it is now called. The city Bombay is very different from Delhi. At times it appeared so lively and at other times it seemed to be so numb. Each person was engrossed in their life rarely bothering or interested in someone or something else. The colossal crowds enthralled and captivated my imagination yet I was bored of this hypnosis. I eagerly wanted to return to Delhi but I was here to prove myself and I had to.

Survival in Bombay is not at all easy. Everyone wants to become part of this city yet few actually become. The local trains almost killed me with an over excessive crowd and the long distances made me dog-tired. Initially I had to put up with my uncle till I get a decent place to live, but even before that I had to get articleship at a firm.

I made frequent rounds of few prospective firms. While moving from pillar to post I came to know of the concept of BIG 4. These are high profile firms and an articleship from these places can prove instrumental in achieving greatness and immortality at least in the CA circles. You become Wealthy and Wise if you could add them to your resume. But these firms, the so called elites of our profession had strict selection criteria. They either relied on the number of attempts at each level or any reference from some worthy individual. But I had nothing; neither a good score, many attempts and no references. A person taking more than one attempt was not usually welcomed. But I fail to understand their criteria, for according to me higher the number of attempts more would be the knowledge (after all reading something for more than once would increase the knowledge).

All these firms had stylish names and  foreign connection e.g. Price Waterhouse Coopers, Delloite, Ernst & Young etc etc. unlike their local Indian counterparts which always boasted the various permutations and combinations of funny names or even funnier surnames of the partners. As the readers would have guessed I never got to see the doors of THE BIG 4.

I got the articleship in D&G although it appears as the world famous brand of ‘Dolce & Gabbana’, it stood for Desai and Gupta. It was a good firm considering the fact I did not get selected.

My interview was taken by Paritosh Patel. Interview was funny I was hardly able to understand Mr. Patel not because I found the questions difficult but because of the fact that his voice was really shrill and his English which was disaster. Yet he was so found of the language that he never and mind you never would speak in any language except English. He selected me in the interview I thought I was lucky but actually he selected all the 5 people who appeared for the interview. I guess no one wanted to join them.

My office was in Nariman Point and it was not that far from my uncle’s place. My first day at office was not exceptional but yes it was eventful. At the reception I was welcomed by Geeta, the receptionist, she looked like a vamp of some stupid Saas-Bahu serial and in due course I realized she was a real life vamp too.  But without revealing her villainy now I would stick to guided tour of the office.

The office was full of small & by small I mean really small cubicles where everyone had a work area where nothing except huge & by huge I mean really huge pile of papers were lying. Then I was taken to meet the boss Mr. Alok Gupta (although the name was not scary but the boss was). He was this really big gigantic guy and had the most sarcastic smile in the world. With his brusque physique and garish mannerisms he appeared to me Gabbar Singh and the whole office as ravines of Chambal. The office hardly had female populace, only Geeta at the reception and Tripti, one more articled clerk, a senior of mine, represented Basanti.

I was given this very small area near the coffee vending machine; this area was always surrounded by people. Initially I felt skeptical but then I became accustomed to it. Within an hour I was given the work of vouching, to all those who fail to understand the term it like playing the role of a teacher who checks your paper the only difference we use an inverted sign of tick. That day I was made to do vouching the full day and I kept on doing it for consecutively for many days.

The lunch hour was exciting; I went out with Kripal and Samir. For all three of us it was the first day. Samir suggested that we should have Thali at The MLA’s hostel canteen. The MLA’s hostel had a great canteen and the food there was not very expensive albeit for MLA’s it was almost free unlike rest of us. The canteen was almost a kilometer away from our office; by the time we came back we were late by 10 minutes. Few minutes after reaching the office we were called by Mayank Suri, he was the left hand of Gabbar, and we realized it soon that our journey in this office would not be as simple as it appeared. A warning was issued to us regarding the time limits of the office. We should reach the office at 10 a.m exact and then the lunch break at 1:30pm which was only for half an hour and the office closed at 6p.m.

Having warned us of the dire consequences of unpunctual behavior we were given instructions about the do’s and don’ts of the office. Mayank Suri was an un-identical clone of Mr.Alok Gupta. They were almost similar except for their appearances. They had a mutual admiration society, (Suri as we called him at his back, was the biggest sycophant of Gupta). To me the office now appeared as a suffocating place but at least I started my articleship, I thought. But before I could rejoice my articleship we were told by the administrative staff the whole lengthy procedure in which we had to fill our articleship forms.

The first day was now nearing its end; I was exhausted and wanted to reach home. I started winding up at 6, but then I had to say bye to Suri before I could leave. I never thought how long it can take to say a simple bye. But that day I realized we should never underestimate anything even a bye. Suri said he was busy and that I had to wait for him, he made all the new articles wait till 6:45 in the evening and for the next 15minutes we were given another sermon about discipline.

Beginning at 7:02 from office and reaching Churchgate by 7:47, I boarded the train at 8:04, and reached my uncle’s house at 8:50. Many of you might be thinking about the timing details that I letting out right now but it functions this way. Every minute is important and every minute pays. All the dreams of having an independent life were transforming into the nightmares of my lonely existence in this swarming yet solitary city.

  

Pass And Aggregate: Chapter 11 Decision to Dream

Chapter 11: Decision to dream

Mind is always in action it can take you to places without actually being there. While I prepared tea for Kripal he had a look at the packages for vacation, I almost reminisced my vacation.

“Here is the tea, so did you find any suitable package?” I asked.

“No, yaar, leave it, I will go there and search for myself, all these packages are a bit too costly. Bye the way how was the convocation? Maybe I will be there someday” he said remorsefully. Kripal was unfailingly giving CA exams but could not pass his final. The last attempt was his 9^th attempt of CA Final yet he could not clear, his knowledge was extraordinary yet the ICAI were miser in granting him marks. His writing skills always lagged behind his practical knowledge. For three consecutive attempts he passed in all subjects but failed to make in aggregate. He had a sad story which deserves some space but right now I will stick to mine.

After flunking for the first time in PEE-II my mother seriously considered that I should start pursuing MBA since she thought that would require less time as it had a definite time frame unlike CA where exit from the course was unknown. Actually she very instigated by fact that even Abhijit, our neighbor and the biggest dumb a** in my knowledge got admission into MBA. A heated debate transpired between us, my mother was now hell bent on proving that MBA was far superior then CA.

I did not started this career because I loved it but once selected I loved it, no question of leaving it ever occurred to mind. It was like an arranged marriage where love blossoms with every passing day (just a simile, I am not a Khap Panchayat holding views against love marriages). I just could not hear any more of it, I almost revolted. Then it was more a question of prestige. I am in no way trying to portray that the CA’s are better than MBA’s but the years we put into get the degree are certainly more than those spent on earning a MBA degree and the larger part of populace does not even acknowledge it. Also we have only one ICAI but MBA colleges are too many in number. No offences to MBA colleges but they are mushrooming everywhere, the good ones are few but most of them spreading like cancer, they are safe havens to park black money. (I guess earning money by selling learning would have been a CA’s idea).  

Abhijit was selected by GIMS, Behror (famous for the mid way motel between Delhi and Jaipur) at a CAT score of 22 percentile but the funniest part was the name of the Institute, GIMS the acronym stood for Gobarmal Institute of Management Sciences. I almost died laughing after learning the name of the institute such a funny and stinky thing to hear, but my mother now wanted me to go in line of mass producing MBA Institute. I would have loved to be in IIM but that institute is involved in its ego inflation by bringing papers which can be easily solved by some engineering nerd but hardly ever by a commercian geek. Those papers are artificially created to destroy any hope or aspiration of getting into the so called premier institute by a person belonging to a non-math non-science background. ‘IIM are meant for engineers’ this is the tagline of IIM, they want homogeneity in their students, a person who could think, differently belongs to a different background or league is a big no. I had no hopes of making even into the minority of IIM who despite their field (read arts or commerce) were in the top notch place.

Finally and thankfully when I passed exams I escaped going to the Gobarmal Institute. It was a celebration time in my house, now my mother was confident that I would be able to make it one day (obviously she would not have thought how would the future exactly unfold) yet she was happy.  Despite of all the fan following that I gained in our neighborhood I was saddened by the fact the people still were unaware of the CA course, I mean that knew who is a CA but how to become a CA was still theory that they had no idea of. A neighbor of mine wondered which college of DU offered CA. This question irritated me the most. This was a usual question, 80% of people who were in awe by the fact that I was doing CA, asked me “Which college?” When I replied “ICAI”, the next question came to them was “Does that come in DU?” I was aghast by their lack of knowledge. All these people knew everything about engineering or MBA, the preferred coaching, the good colleges, the best line and pay packages but with respect to CA all they had in mind was he is a TAXMAN, neither an inch more nor an inch less.

After having cleared the second step of my professional degree I had to complete articleship. The word articleship sounds good, a period of three years where we get the stipend and we learn the ropes of the trade, it is like an internship, where we learn on the job. That would be great fun, I guessed (may be a wrong guess).

I was so excited to get the job of an article (I mean the one who undertakes articleship is called an article clerk but in common parlance called as an article) that I could not wait to give interview in prospective firms. But then a thought struck to me, why not move to Bombay instead of Delhi, which would add an extra tint of adventure. I had to convince my parents, which in any case was not at all easy. They argued that the ICAI is HQ at Delhi and I wanted to go to Bombay. They also suspected that may be I was going to Bombay because of some girl but that was not the case. I wanted to live alone and manage my life, I wanted to grow up and to me moving out was the best option. I called one of uncle who stayed in Matunga (a ghetto of Tamilians in Bombay). He tried reasoning out with me but when he found that I would not budge he convinced my parents to let me come to Bombay, the  Eldorado.

Reluctantly my parents agreed to send me to Bombay. My mother wanted me to stay with my uncle but it would have been the same thing as in Delhi so I made it quite clear that I have to move out. She did not argue with me any further, maybe she thought that it was time that I should be given freedom to grow up as per my wishes. I was super excited in moving out, Akshyaa was even happier, she got the hold of the room on all weekends, unrestricted.

The day I was leaving I became sad; the euphoria of new life did not excite me enough. My dad once again tried convincing me to stay back, even I wanted to but I said no to him. With a heavy heart and even heavier luggage I set off for my journey. My family came to see me off on Nizamuddin Railway station. My mother was almost on the verge of crying as if I was going on border. There she gave me a handwritten list of does and don’ts. I still have it; I stuck it on the wall of my room. As the train started moving I felt my life is on a move. I was feeling bad and home sick even before the train could leave Delhi borders.

Then something unexpected happened, Shruti called. I had no idea why was she calling. I picked the call (almost trembling); she told me the long story of her break off as if nothing ever happened, such an insensitive and selfish person. I got the point at once, she was trying to use me again, I understood this time. I refused her proposal as I cannot visualize myself with her. For once I felt triumphed in front of her and realized that my decision to leave for Bombay was not at all hasty.

I woke up till late night and the next day I reached Bombay, the land of dreams.

Pass And Aggregate: Chapter 10: Vacation

Chapter 10: Vacation

“Every time, I make tea for you, why don’t you do it for me today, I am tired” said Kripal, disturbing me while I was recollecting an important chapter of my past.

“Yes, surely I will do that for you, so what are you surfing on the net” I asked inquisitively.

“Arey, I told you na that I am soon going on a vacation so I was just searching for the best package to Goa.”

Vacations are the best time, I thought, I enjoyed so much when we went to Rameshwaram.

Four years ago, we packed our bags for Rameshwaram to our ancestral home. It was the best time of my life, I was going to Rameshwaram after so many years that Rameshwaram was postcard image to me, I only had few memories from my uncle’s wedding rest everything was faded and hazy. These years most of the times my grand parents were in USA, with my uncles and aunts or at times with us.

After reaching Madurai by flight we took train for Rameshwaram, I bet if you have never been to this place you have missed a lot. There is a rail bridge which connects Pamban to Rameshwaram, while you are traveling by train all you could see is vast stretch of ocean and nothing else, the speed of train is slow and it is rickety, the scenery from train is the most beautiful scenery. Nothing but a mysticism takes over your senses.

It is a known fact that this is the place where a bridge was built by army of lord Rama to connect it to Lanka, I don’t know whether it is true (the NASA has proved it beyond doubt)  but after being there all I can say is that a cloud of divinity surrounded us.

My grandparents were waiting for us. I was so excited to be there. Our house was a typical south Indian house, a huge empty space in the center of the house and rooms that surrounded it. I slept in the room which had the sea view. The moon was shining brightly, I guess it was high tide and at night I could hear the waves gushing to the shores. I might sound poetic and imaginative but the waves loved the shore and rhythmically said.

Here we come to our lover gushing and rushing

 We have become crazy in love, and come forth pushing

No one waits for us except the shore

The love swells in our bosom and it becomes much more

Here we come to our lover roaring and soaring

Meeting him is ecstasy and departing leaves us grieving

Oh! Why don’t we live us always together, the waves and the shore?

None could understand our affection and the pain of separation we bore

Why we do have to leave you and feel the pain

Nothing but misery and heart break we sustain

The shore said

You are waves of the ocean and not ripples of the pond

    So what if we get separated, we meet again and bond

Your misery and grief have the made ocean saline

Your love to me is divine and pristine

I know your anxiety and can comprehend your fear

Trust me and come closer so I can wipe your tear

 The song of love is of approaching and receding

   Few good seconds of meeting and sad moments of separating

     Your lover awaits you, draw closer again and gush

    Do not delay, I am ready to embrace you, please hurry, and rush.

While thinking about the wave song, I don’t know when I slept. The next morning I woke up to the hyperactivity at my house, my grandmother wanted to take us to the temple. I got ready in my usual denims but she made me dress up in the veshti, the traditional clothes, to be worn during marriages and religious ceremonies. Along with my grandmother I and Akshya left for the temple.

Rameshwaram temple has the largest corridor in the world. It is said that at this place Lord Ram built a lingam of Lord Shiv to take his blessings and then a bridge was being built by the army of Hanuman to Lanka. It is still believed that the structure of the bridge still exists underwater. Temple these days are hub of commercial activities, I mean even if lord Ram had enter the temple he would have to wait in the serpentine line, then would have to buy the coconut and flowers at lofty price and finally would have to pay for the different prayer as fixed by the temple priest, it is purely professional, may be IIM”s should include it in their curriculum. After going through the rigorous ceremonies we came back to our house.

Back at our home we had someone waiting for us. He was Gopalan Mama, my father’s cousin. Akshyaa whispered to me that I should not talk much in front of him as he was very unevenly tempered and was too eager to give lectures to the breeds of semi adults, like us. As forewarned, I remained aloof to him. I thought that he had spoilt our vacation and was praying so that he leaves for Mamallapuram (temple town of Mahabalipuram near Chennai) as soon as possible but he had no plans to leave.

Gopalan uncle was hardly 40, but he looked 60, he limped a little, because of an accident. He looked like an antique. He was my grand mother’s nephew and shared a great bond with her. His parents lived in New Jersey with their son, his younger brother, Prabhakaran.

That night no poetry struck me, I had to share my room with him all I could hear was constant clamor of snoring.The next morning I got up, uncle was not at my side, I thought he might have packed his bag and left but seeing his clothes on the bed I felt disappointed. I thought may be I should have a walk at the beach. I reached the beach and was beginning to enjoy the winds that flew past me, when I saw a familiar person coming to me, he was Gopalan uncle. I started making excuses in my head so that I could run away without offending him but his speed was faster than my speed of cooking an excuse.

“On a walk. So early? I thought the younger generation hates waking up in the morning” he said.

“No, I usually am an early riser.”I replied in a shiver.

“So you are doing CA, hhan???”He inquired.

I just nodded.

“Why?”

“Because I had no other thing to do”, I muttered to myself but then replied in a confused way, “I want to earn money, and it gives a good status”.

“Why?” he asked again.

“We have to settle in life and be happy”, I meekly said.

“So you can become happy by earning money”? He said in rather muted tone.

“No, but….” He cut me short and continued, “You know what Adithya, earlier I thought all these material pleasures in life give you happiness till I realized all this cannot buy everything! I was unhappy having it all.”

 He sounded like the advertisement of some credit card which said ‘Money can’t buy everything and for everything else there is *****’. I was startled; to me he was now appearing to be a complete mad. He preferred to live like a rogue and he liked it.

I inquired “But why were you unhappy?”

He laughed and said “Thank God you asked, I thought you will never ask”

I was irritated at his laughter.

“While I was working in USA I came back to Mamallapuram on vacation (at his ancestral house). Near the famous Shore temple a woman stayed at the pavement, I saw her often begging for food from the tourists for herself and her three kids. After the Tsunami struck, tourism got hit in the temple town of Mamallapuram; the locals suffered a great deal of loss. Once I saw that woman stirring something in her utensils, she was cooking food for her kids; I sat at a distance and was keenly observing her. To my utter surprise I saw her feeding the kids and herself with leaves of some tree. I realized the whole matter at once I ran home to get something for her but it was too late. When I came back I saw her crying one of her kid died of hunger. It was macabre dance of poverty that day I kept on pondering over this thing I left my job as I was required more in my country then any where else. We all end up settling in foreign countries without ever thinking to pay back to the country which has given us so much, we are selfish aren’t we? This country gave me so much and I was aiding the economy of some alien country. After leaving my job there I with few friends started an NGO for the poor”.

“But uncle we are still underdeveloped and nothing works here properly, no system responds in correct manner, the corruption here is so rampant….

He said “Son, India is a nation in making and we are the pillars of this great nation, it is our duty to make it the best nation, I do not believe in cribbing but doing. Have you ever read the poem by Sir Walter Scott?”

I just nodded my head in negative.

“Well it was like………(and he started humming) 

Breathes there the man, with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land?
Whose heart hath ne’er within him burn’d,
As home his footsteps he hath turn’d,
From wandering on a foreign strand?

If such there breathe, go, mark him well;
For him no Minstrel raptures swell.
High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;

Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentred all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonor’d, and unsung.

“These were great lines na….” he said.

Later I asked about his work. I could see a glint in his eyes, while he was talking about his work, he was contented. By the time we began walking towards the home I realized I was speaking to a man who was the rarest of the kind to be found on earth. At times we rely on others opinion to judge a person but that is a folly. I was so wrong to be judgmental about him just on the basis of Akshyaa’s opinion.

 I was lucky to have met him. He lived in his world, which was not perfect yet everyday he tried making it better. He stood for what he thought was right and happiness to him meant the happiness of others. In spite of all his odds he came out as winner. He achieved everything in life, his handicap never created hurdle instead he took it as an inspiration to work even harder. His love for the country and country men in today’s world is seldom seen. He taught me an important lesson of my life. At times even a vacation can be instrumental in changing your thoughts. His thinking and sermons left an indelible mark on my mind.

Pass And Aggregate: Chapter 9: Un-Fair Beauty

Chapter 9: Un-fair Beauty

“Quiet! Why on earth are you so restless Adithya, don’t irk your younger sister every time?” my mother said while I was irritating my sister. I observed that Akshyaa did not enjoy that I was being so severely shouted at. Usually for her it is the best time of the day, she got immense joy in it. Something was wrong with her; I kept on guessing what could be the reason. “Has she flunked? That is next to impossible, or some kind of pressure at the hostel, not possible she was already in second year. Then love??? May be. What was it???”

Late at night when she was studying rather I should say she pretended to be studying, I sat near the study table and said “You know, Akshyaa I broke off with Shruti or I should say Shruti ditched me”.

“What! You never told me.” She said.

“Why should I, when you don’t tell me what is going in your life why should I tell you.”I said.

“You won’t be able to understand my turmoil” she said in irritated and disgusted tone.

“Why I am mentally sane and sound, nothing but your ego prevents me to listen to your problem, common we are best friends, and you can trust me.” I assured her. Looking at her body language I assumed that she was not going tell me what bothers her so much, but to my surprise she said “You are fair Adi, how on earth would you know the feelings of a dark girl, how would you know the way it feels when people make fun of you because of the color of your skin, tell me.”

I was dumbstruck, never a thought like that has crossed my mind. I was the fairest one in my house, my complexion was like my mother a bit fairer I guess, Akshyaa’s Complexion was more like dad, she was though slightly dark but her features were sharp and stunning, to me she was the most beautiful person, I never in my life had contemplated about someone on the basis of color but some one did, and that to my sister.

“Who told you all this nonsense and crap? Tell me I will break the head of that bas***d or b***h or whatever that person is.”

“That will not change the reality, I should accept this fact and I will live with it now onwards” she said remorsefully.

Believe me if you can, but to me the whole sentenced pinched, I don’t know the level of her suffering but her eyes which were always lightened up now appeared dead. Someone has hurt her so much that now she doubted herself.

Regaining my composure and picking up the silly fairness cream from table, I said “Do you know Akshyaa, that even Lord Ram was dark and so was Lord Krishna, so why are you becoming obsessed with the fair complexion, beauty is not about the color it is about your nature, you are good looking if you are a good human.”

“If that is so, why did Harsh said so, that I am the ugliest girl he has ever seen” she said in an agitated manner.

I realized the whole matter at once. Harsh was her classmate and she had a liking for him, I don’t know what exactly transpired between them that Harsh hurt her so much. I calmly said “Because he is an ugly creature, and he will perceive the whole world to be like him, ugly. No one has a right to tell you that, you should have punched him then and there. It does not matter how others judge you as but what matters is the way you look at yourself. To me you are most beautiful person, if you took his words to be true and bought this cream why don’t you trust your brother and throw this away, you don’t require it.”

“Adi, I am so much hurt, why did God made me dark, why I am not fair like others” she was on the verge of crying.

“If you cry for someone who does not deserve your affection, you waste your time. Did you ever thank God, for making you exceptionally intelligent, did you accuse him when you got admission in IIT, so why are you accusing him now? You should be thankful to God for the way he has made you, there are others who are not as lucky as you but still they trust Him. There is a beautiful quote and that says ‘Beauties in vain, their eyes enroll charm strike the sight but merit wins the soul’.

May be she was listening to me, may be the words I spoke fell on her ears or they just floated away, I still don’t know. She kept quiet, thinking something.

We in India are obsessed with fair color; I don’t know why we have made a color superior than other colors. No painting looks good if a single color is used so why do we expect that the world created by almighty should have only one color. I pity those who judge a person on his or her looks, believe me there are better parameters, to me such kind of people are shallow. The pressure is equally created by the media which insists that only good looking, fair complexioned people are successful, but it is one of the biggest lie propagated by the media moguls. We are dumb to accept such claims; I totally support those groups which want to ban such advertisements, and let us all boycott those stars, who for few rupees get into such dirty endorsements. There is nothing fair or lovely about such cosmetics. 

Akshyaa sat there till time unknown, the next morning I realized all was fine with her. I saw that cream lying in the dustbin and there she was standing in her enigmatic aura, as lovely as ever.

Pass And Aggregate: Chapter 8: Revolution and Evolution

Chapter 8: Revolution and Evolution

“Away! Move away from me!” I heard as I entered the college grounds. I figured out that this voice was coming from the theatre group. I wanted to find out what was exactly taking place. I went to see the play. “Hey Ritika,what’s going on?”. “Adiii! Hi, where have you been all these days? Saw you after sooo many days!”. “Nothing was just busy with studies”(I am not stupid to tell her that I was battling  the depression of my break off!). “Actually this street play is about prostitution and human trafficking”, continued Ritika “This is a rampant problem of our society.” I was astounded; I tried to gulp down the guilt. That incident flashed in mind all again…In a recovering mode, I said, “Is there any way in which I can be of any help?”. “Yes of course we need some one who could help us with research work as the play is still in pipeline.”

Soon I began the research work with help of Nitin. He was a second year student and was actively involved in theatre group. My guilt and experience paved the way for an excellent script, which we performed at many places. The revolution inside me, created something phenomenal which I was happy to give back to the society.

Due to the excellent response received, we were approached by an NGO-“Ismat”, who were involved in rescue in rehabilitation and rescue of sex workers. We were asked to perform the play for the rescued workers at their organization. After the play concluded, I saw their faces and was gratified by the response as well as the instant feel of contentment that my heart felt. I continued my association with the NGO by contributing articles, and spreading awareness drives. (Till date I am in alliance with it.)

Life at coaching was hectic but gave me reasons to smile quite often. “So today, we have Residential Status topic in question. I would request students to improve their Geography before venturing out for the exams.” Remarked Prof. Gautam Aggrawaal. “This reminds me of my student who wrote Residential status of an Indian in Gangtok as a Non Resident, he mistook the city to be some compatriot cousin of Bangkok.” I chuckled at the ignorance of my fellow CA aspirants.

After a few classes an interesting question popped out, “Sir, what would be the slab of Income tax if the senior citizen is a minor?” Hiten was proud of his question, and his friend, Yash, frustrated… Yash wanted to ask the question before any one could. But, Hiten was quicker. The rest of the class burst into laughter, imagining how a senior citizen would look like a minor or may be…vice-versa. 

CA exams were in November, and no credits for guessing that I flunked badly. I mean during last six months I nursed a broken heart, a lost identity, I became the flag bearer of a cause, of course studies had to suffer. Karan passed in one group and my parents were quick in pointing out how I wasted my time and the various other reasons which held me away from success. They hardly knew the real reasons. I sometimes wonder what if they knew the real cause, they might have killed me.

Time flew quickly and the last days of the college approached. It made me sad; an enjoyable phase of my life was coming to an end. (Sans Shruti and Bobby Chaddha). Graduation exams went away peacefully and CA exams were slightly better this time. My college life was a mixed bag, I had my shares of ups and downs, and believe me those ups and downs were necessary to grow up and they certainly made me a better person. It helped me in evolving.

“TING TONG TING TONG”

I got up from my bed, rubbed my eyes and almost in sleep opened the door. “Where were you, that Dracula ( my boss) was asking about you, I said that you were ill and were taking rest, I called you so many times, why were you not picking up that phone of yours?” said Kripal who was my room mate and my office buddy. While I was pleasantly remembering my life story, I slept, without any knowledge of my surroundings. I woke up to the continuous ringing of bell and came back to the reality, after reliving my history for many hours.

I said “The mobile was on silent, I was feeling very weak and feeble after the convocation so could not be in the office, thanks for the lie, now I owe one lie to you.”

Afterwards I switched on my laptop and was soon on facebook, Akshya was on Chat. “How was ur convocation Anna??”

“ It was gr8”, I replied, “hw r u??wats up”

“I am fine and life is great”.

“She sounded so cheerful today, touch wood”, I told myself but once in life she had lost all hopes, she was depressed and was going through a period of self depreciation and loss of self confidence, I had never seen my sister to be bogged down but that day she was quiet.

Pass And Aggregate: Chapter 7: Life without Love

Chapter 7: Life without Love.

“Answer to this question is easy, why you are not trying to understand the concept” said Karan. He was irked by my behavior in past few days. He knew everything that happened with me but he was not empathizing with me. I was so sad and lost, I mean listening to Jagjit Singh Gazal’s were never an option for me but those days I spent my time listening to all the sad songs, I felt all those songs were written for me. Death is better than love at least it ends all your sufferings. It is so sweet that in long run it gives a bitter taste. Sakshi simply told me to forget Shruti she said “Don’t worry, forget her and lead your life peacefully.” On other hand Ankit who never liked Shruti suggested. “Go call that Bl***y B***h, tell her that she is not worth of your affections and at last tell her to get lost. Dude I told you she is not your type”. But poor me, I could neither forget her nor accuse her, I was in anguish.

One day I kept sitting in the canteen, Bobby Chaddha saw me and came over. He saw my eyes, and asked me “hey what happened to you?” “Nothing” I replied. Actually I wanted to tell the whole world about my sad state but I just kept quite. He guessed about the split. He sat there comforting me and when canteen was being closed he asked me to come along. I never inquired where he was taking me I just followed him. To my utter surprise he took me to a place called Ballimaran in Old Delhi, there was some restaurant called ‘Karim’s’ which according to Bobby Chaddha served the best non vegetarian cuisine in the world. But I was vegetarian, that place for me was a hell. I could not bear the smell, I thought of running but could not offend Bobby, for he was the shoulder I was crying upon from past three odd hours. When Bobby offered me the leg piece I simply and politely declined, I declared “I am vegetarian, Bobby, I can’t eat it.” He replied “Ok, but try it once”.

“No”,I said and anticipated that he might get up, but instead he said “Keep sitting till I finish, after this I will take you some where else”. I sat there without any movement. Few moments back I was thinking about Shruti but looking at the leg piece I wondered about the Hen who was now in Bobby’s stomach, how cute that hen would have looked like, how was his family reacting to his demise, what was his thoughts while the butcher killed him, how much he would have suffered, my mind was now engulfing into a guilt, being a Iyer Brahmin I was sitting here, bringing bad name to my family. While Bobby was eating away all the dishes, all I could observe was the greed in his eyes. He should be accused of gluttony, I thought, but it was my choice to be with him. Even Shruti ate non veg but I never felt so bad, may be I was biased towards her.

Finally I gave up and ran out of that place, I puked! Bobby came out, laughing at me, he said “Give me your wallet I have to pay the bill; I gave it without asking anything. I tried to recover, he then took me to some another dingy place. I saw him with a bottle of beer, “Come on, let’s have it, celebrate your breakup”. By now I was mentally and physically exhausted.  No one could understand the perturbed state of my mind. Finally I did something for which I can never forgive myself; I gave in to the enticing bottle of beer in Bobby’s hand.

The journey with Bobby came to a halt on G.B Road, the most infamous road of Delhi where the oldest profession of the world is practiced. It was a very strange place, some kind of a busy place, something about it was disturbing, I was in the biggest red light area of Delhi. Bobby opened my wallet and took out every penny out of it and exclaimed “There is not much money for both of us! Never mind, this time I will pay for you, but next time….!” I lost my senses by then and just said “you carry on.” I sat on the pavement aimlessly thinking whether I should go inside. 

When I was sitting and cursing my luck for all that has happened to me in my life I saw a girl. She was noticing me from the minute Bobby had left. She was a very fragile looking girl, she had very small eyes, I think she was a Nepali, she would have been 15 or 16. I had goosebumps all over. Akshyaa’s faced flashed in my mind. Her dressing style was provocative and her mannerisms were cheap and vulgar, her expressions suggested that I should choose her, over others, but there was something about her eyes which were speaking volumes about her. Her eyes were tired and sick of this place I guess she was doing this out of compulsion. At times hunger can land you in the most unwanted places. No one would imagine or would want to become a prostitute, there would be some duress on this girl other wise she would be have been going to some school, making something good of her life. To sacrifice a character a great deal of pain is involved yet she was doing it. I could visualize the circumstances at her home which forced her into this bad world, where nothing but loneliness and death awaits her. I did a hellish thing by going there.

Suddenly I remembered my great grand father who tried to rehabilitate Devdasis of few countryside temples in Madras Presidency and I felt disgusted with myself. I thought myself to be lowly and a wretched guy. A girl(Shruti) who had no concern or love for me had made me stand on the doorsteps of doom. I got up, I looked up in my pocket which still had a hundred rupee note, I took it out and gave it to that girl and just walked away. By now I was back to my senses, the girl standing there who was enticing customers had more problems than I could ever imagine. Seeing the miseries of the world I realized that we should thank God for what He has given us instead of complaining Him for what he has not given. I thank God he saved me before I could enter the point of no return. That day I promised that I would never give into drinking alcohol.  It makes you loose your senses, and having  something which renders you out of control is neither fashionable nor needed.

I reached home and opened the door with the duplicate key I had. My parents were awake, seeing me dad asked “Where were you?” I lied “I went to the CA library and then to Karan’s house”. He was suspecting me, but I dare went closer to him, he might smell the alcohol. I said “Ate at Karan’s house, now I am tired and going to sleep”. My mother shouted “at least tell us about your plans, you left the mobile at home today, did’nt even thought of calling from Karan’s home!” I left the conversation incomplete.

I went to the room and bolt it from inside. I lay on my bed, motionless and frozen, the more I thought about that girl the more I had guilt creeping inside me, ‘An Albatross around my neck was hung’. 

That day my life changed forever, I made it clear to my mind that I should pay back to the society where I live; I wanted my life to be meaningful. The torturous and depressing night that brought irrevocable memories passed and clouds dimness dispersed away.