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Thursday, 15 August 2013
Short Story 2013 Shortlist, Neelam Chandra Saxena
The Hiatus
As Edward Becker raised his hands to bowl the last ball of the innings, different thoughts raced in his mind. It was his first international match. His captain had reposed complete faith over him and he being assigned the crucial task of bowling the last over in this critical match. He was feeling a bit insecure and unsteady. Would he be able to deliver? Just then, Diya's face flashed in his mind. She was bubbling with joy and chirpy as ever. Her face beamed as she said, "Edward, you can do it." He closed his eyes for a split second. He suddenly felt an inrush of energy. Yes, he could do it. Had he not already taken five wickets since the starting of the match? He spun his ball with renewed enthusiasm and vigour. This ball could make or break the game. The rival team was just three runs short of victory.
The ball went briskly to the batsman and he had no chance. The ball touched the edge of his bat and landed in the hands of Edward once again. He jumped, he danced, he shrieked. He was extremely overjoyed. The captain and all his other teammates hugged him and threw him in the air. He felt that he was at the top.
Edward was getting married to Diya in the evening and he wanted to share this moment with his sweetheart. But he knew that with the festivities around, he could not leave. He was the centre of attraction of everybody – the cricket fraternity in general and his teammates in particular. Paparazzi were up with the slogan 'A star is born'.
Edward just wanted to see Diya – her chirpy eyes, her naughty gaze and her silky hair. He had asked her to wear a red saree for their wedding. He had seen a few Indians wearing saree before and had always been fascinated by the saree. It really looked glamorous and stunning. Diya was a Hindu and he knew how she would have loved to have a Hindu wedding. But the Hindu weddings were more elaborate and they had decided that they would arrange for it soon, once the one day series were over. He knew that she would be delighted to wear the saree for the time being.
While the champagne bottle was opened for him, Edward was again taken down the memory lane. He had pursued English Literature earlier, not because it interested him but since he could not think of something better to do. Similarly, he had applied for this post of Assistant Editor in the famous social magazine 'Buzz' because he could not think of anything better. He had reached the venue of the interview without any expectations or goal.
The interview was postponed by two hours. He was sitting lazily when a beautiful girl came and sat next to him. She looked stunning in her red tunic top and denim. But what bemused him most were her eyes which had a naughty look in them. He felt electric sparks flying. To start the conversation, he asked her her name. With a glimmer in her eyes she replied, "Diya".
“Your name sounds interesting. What does it mean? Is it an Indian name?” he asked her. He had heard the name 'Diya' for the first time and it sounded not only different, but also intriguing.
She scrutinized his tall and narrow body frame before replying, "Diya means a candle in Hindi; a candle which lightens the world while it itself burns."
“Too philosophical for me!” he continued, “And what makes dear Diya apply for this job as an assistant editor in this magazine?”
He had asked this question without giving it much of a thought, but she replied almost instantly, vigorously and forcefully, "Of course, because writing is my passion. Why else do you think one applies for a job?"
Edward had never thought about it that way. But her reply made him think, reflect and contemplate. While he sat pondering, there was a phone call on Diya's mobile. Although she was speaking very softly, her conversation was quite audible. She was going through a financial crisis.
After some time, the receptionist announced the sequence in which the candidates had to go inside. He was happy to find that Diya was second last, just before him. He felt drawn towards her in a strange way.
When Diya was summoned, he watched her tall figure merrily going inside with a confident gait. The phone call had made him sure that she was going through hard times, but her poise reflected none of it. To Edward, the tall figure was a manifestation of dynamism and vivacity. He wondered if he had even a little of the passion which she exhibited.
When his turn came, he went inside leisurely. The lady conducting the interview asked him, "And why do you think you deserve the job, Edward?"
"Madam, after coming here for the interview, I am sure that I don’t deserve the job at all. I may be having a lot of degrees, but I lack the passion which is necessary for this job. I think Ms Diya deserves this job," he replied after a small gap.
The lady smiled and said, "So did we!" Then after a pause she asked him, "And what do you think is your passion Edward?"
"My passion is cricket and I am going to pursue that." Edward could hear the words being uttered from his mouth, but he was not sure if he was really speaking them.
There was an initial selection for the cricket team of 'Best Club' the next day. He had really enjoyed playing cricket, but never thought of it as a career. Now, he knew it was his heart speaking and he had to follow his heart. He suddenly made up his mind to attend the selections. He wondered if he could really make it to the final Australian cricket team someday which he had often dreamt as a child.
As he took out his car, he saw Diya walking leisurely. He stopped and asked, "Could I give the beautiful lady a lift?"
She mumbled, "My house is quite nearby and I do not really need a lift."
But Edward was insistent and finally she got inside. They talked and chatted on the way. He knew that he wanted to hear her melodious voice, see her lovely eyes and just enjoy her company again and again. He asked himself if it was love at first sight. He wondered if she liked him. But, he knew that only time could provide answers to his questions. If it was an infatuation, it would wither away. If it was love, it would stay with him forever and forever and forever.
Since then, Edward's rise in cricket had been phenomenal. He had become everybody's envy as a spin bowler. When he got selected for the Australian cricket team four years later, he was ecstatic. He knew he owed it all to Diya for her continuous encouragement. Otherwise, he would have been an Assistant Editor – a field for which he was not so suited. It was Diya who fitted the job and had already carved out a niche for herself in the field. She had written fiery articles for which she had won a lot of accolades. He decided to propose Diya as he went to her with the news of his selection. After all, he had known Diya since four long years!
Since the first match of the one day series were going on, Diya had suggested that they keep their marriage low profile. It was decided that they would get married in the church in a simple ceremony and then announce their marriage after the one day series. She did not want Edward's attention to be diverted to anything other than cricket at that point of time.
Edward heaved a sigh when the party was finally over. He wanted to reach the church immediately. He wanted to see Diya in her red saree. He wanted to feel her in his arms, he wanted to hug her, kiss her and tell her how much he loved her. He knew that Diya must have been waiting for him with equal anxiety.
However, Edward was astounded when he found no trace of Diya at the church. He tried to call her on her mobile, but it was switched off. He had sent her atleast twenty messages since the match was over. When he did not find her, realization dawned upon him that Diya had not replied to either of the messages. He called up her brother, Divesh. He was equally stunned. He informed him that she had left home almost two hours back! Where was Diya?
Edward was mad. He immediately took out his car and headed towards her house. Was she caught in a traffic jam? He could not see her familiar face anywhere on the way. Divesh also informed him that he could not trace Diya.
As he was wondering what he should do next, finally there was a call from Diya's number. He was overjoyed. Even before she could speak, he yelled, "Diya, what is this? Where the hell are you? I have been searching you all over like mad and..."
Somebody silenced him on the phone before he could complete the sentence. He heard an authoritative voice say, "Inspector Thomas here. Diya has been badly hurt and we are in the Concord hospital. We saw your messages in her mobile and decided to call you. Can you come down immediately?"
Silently, Edward informed Divesh and they rushed to the hospital. Edward watched Diya in disbelief as he peeped through the glass partition. She lay unconscious in her red saree – the same red saree, which Edward had requested her to wear! But, her body was also red – red with blood all over. The doctors were trying to revive her. He wanted to go and hold her in his arms. But sadly, no one was allowed inside.
The Inspector had also reached there by then and he patted his back as he said, "Congrats for winning the match, Edward. I believe you love the girl. She had been attacked by some fellows. While we are still trying to nab the culprits and ascertain the cause, it is being said that it was a racial attack. Please have patience and help us catch the culprits. I know it hurts, but we are trying our best..."
Edward could hear no further. He sat down on the floor and started sobbing loudly. Why had he asked her to wear the damned saree? He glanced at Diya once again. Somebody came and patted his shoulder. It was the Doctor. He informed him, "Edward, Diya is alive, but she is in a coma. In such cases, sometimes the patient comes back to life almost instantaneously and sometimes it takes days and days."
Edward interrupted him, "And sometimes, the patient never comes back to life, isn't it?"
The Doctor lowered his head as he said, "Yes, in some cases the patient never normalizes."
Edward shouted, "Diya, please draw out your passion and zest to live life. I need you Diya, I need you. I can't live without you. You are my passion for life Diya, you are my passion." He rested his head against the wall and cried for hours.
Next day, Doctors allowed him to go and meet her. He held her hands for hours, cuddled her and embraced her. But, there were no signs of life. He was devastated. He did not want to live. Paparazzi had come to know the developments in his life and they were following him and the case. The two youths who had attacked Diya were caught. But, he could simply not come out of his shock and distress. After all, catching them would not bring back his Diya.
One day, as Edward entered his apartment, he saw Diya's face mocking at him from the life size poster in his living room. Her naughty gaze was asking him, “Won’t you kiss me darling? I want to savour your lips!”
He rested against the poster and wept inconsolably. Suddenly there was a tap on his shoulders. He looked back to find it was Divesh. He embraced Divesh and sobbed. Divesh asked, "Edward, I hope you are you are going to play your match tomorrow?"
Edward squealed, "Divesh, how the hell can you think of the match. Our dear Diya is lying in hospital – lifeless. Have you forgotten this?"
Divesh replied, "No, I have not forgotten it and can never forget it. But, do you remember why you loved Diya in the first place? For her zeal and passion for life, isn't it? Think from her point of view. Will she be happy to find that you have left playing?"
Edward was stunned by what Divesh had said. As he sat on the sofa, Diya flashed in his mind once again. He loved her. He had never thought of her nationality or her religion or his own nationality or religion while falling in love. Love is so pure, selfless and noble. It encompasses all boundaries of race, nation, religion and creed. But hatred is selfish and self-centred. It wraps itself with differences, hatred and biases. Why can't people simply love people? Today it was his Diya who was attacked. Tomorrow it could be any one else – some Amy, some Zeenat or some Manisha who will have to go through all this in some other part of the world. Why?
By morning he had taken a firm decision. He was going to play. Not for himself, but for his Diya and for all the Amys and Zeenats and Manishas. He was going to play and tell the world through the paparazzi to love human beings as human beings. Diya had told him once that Diya means a candle which lightens the world while it itself burns. True to her name, till Diya burnt, the world would atleast give a thought before committing such acts of hatred!
In the morning he was quite calm as he reached Diya's room in the hospital. He whispered in her ears, "Diya, you know I have learnt something more in life. Till now, we were both working for our passions. But now, I shall be playing for love – love for you and love for the mankind. And I no longer feel perturbed or insecure. I know I am going to help my team win today. When we get married, I will have much more to tell you."
For a moment Edward felt that Diya smiled. However, when he touched her again, there were no signs of life. But he was sure that Diya would come back to life one day. And he was ready to wait for her forever and forever and forever.
As Edward Becker raised his hands to bowl the last ball of the innings, different thoughts raced in his mind. It was his first international match. His captain had reposed complete faith over him and he being assigned the crucial task of bowling the last over in this critical match. He was feeling a bit insecure and unsteady. Would he be able to deliver? Just then, Diya's face flashed in his mind. She was bubbling with joy and chirpy as ever. Her face beamed as she said, "Edward, you can do it." He closed his eyes for a split second. He suddenly felt an inrush of energy. Yes, he could do it. Had he not already taken five wickets since the starting of the match? He spun his ball with renewed enthusiasm and vigour. This ball could make or break the game. The rival team was just three runs short of victory.
The ball went briskly to the batsman and he had no chance. The ball touched the edge of his bat and landed in the hands of Edward once again. He jumped, he danced, he shrieked. He was extremely overjoyed. The captain and all his other teammates hugged him and threw him in the air. He felt that he was at the top.
Edward was getting married to Diya in the evening and he wanted to share this moment with his sweetheart. But he knew that with the festivities around, he could not leave. He was the centre of attraction of everybody – the cricket fraternity in general and his teammates in particular. Paparazzi were up with the slogan 'A star is born'.
Edward just wanted to see Diya – her chirpy eyes, her naughty gaze and her silky hair. He had asked her to wear a red saree for their wedding. He had seen a few Indians wearing saree before and had always been fascinated by the saree. It really looked glamorous and stunning. Diya was a Hindu and he knew how she would have loved to have a Hindu wedding. But the Hindu weddings were more elaborate and they had decided that they would arrange for it soon, once the one day series were over. He knew that she would be delighted to wear the saree for the time being.
While the champagne bottle was opened for him, Edward was again taken down the memory lane. He had pursued English Literature earlier, not because it interested him but since he could not think of something better to do. Similarly, he had applied for this post of Assistant Editor in the famous social magazine 'Buzz' because he could not think of anything better. He had reached the venue of the interview without any expectations or goal.
The interview was postponed by two hours. He was sitting lazily when a beautiful girl came and sat next to him. She looked stunning in her red tunic top and denim. But what bemused him most were her eyes which had a naughty look in them. He felt electric sparks flying. To start the conversation, he asked her her name. With a glimmer in her eyes she replied, "Diya".
“Your name sounds interesting. What does it mean? Is it an Indian name?” he asked her. He had heard the name 'Diya' for the first time and it sounded not only different, but also intriguing.
She scrutinized his tall and narrow body frame before replying, "Diya means a candle in Hindi; a candle which lightens the world while it itself burns."
“Too philosophical for me!” he continued, “And what makes dear Diya apply for this job as an assistant editor in this magazine?”
He had asked this question without giving it much of a thought, but she replied almost instantly, vigorously and forcefully, "Of course, because writing is my passion. Why else do you think one applies for a job?"
Edward had never thought about it that way. But her reply made him think, reflect and contemplate. While he sat pondering, there was a phone call on Diya's mobile. Although she was speaking very softly, her conversation was quite audible. She was going through a financial crisis.
After some time, the receptionist announced the sequence in which the candidates had to go inside. He was happy to find that Diya was second last, just before him. He felt drawn towards her in a strange way.
When Diya was summoned, he watched her tall figure merrily going inside with a confident gait. The phone call had made him sure that she was going through hard times, but her poise reflected none of it. To Edward, the tall figure was a manifestation of dynamism and vivacity. He wondered if he had even a little of the passion which she exhibited.
When his turn came, he went inside leisurely. The lady conducting the interview asked him, "And why do you think you deserve the job, Edward?"
"Madam, after coming here for the interview, I am sure that I don’t deserve the job at all. I may be having a lot of degrees, but I lack the passion which is necessary for this job. I think Ms Diya deserves this job," he replied after a small gap.
The lady smiled and said, "So did we!" Then after a pause she asked him, "And what do you think is your passion Edward?"
"My passion is cricket and I am going to pursue that." Edward could hear the words being uttered from his mouth, but he was not sure if he was really speaking them.
There was an initial selection for the cricket team of 'Best Club' the next day. He had really enjoyed playing cricket, but never thought of it as a career. Now, he knew it was his heart speaking and he had to follow his heart. He suddenly made up his mind to attend the selections. He wondered if he could really make it to the final Australian cricket team someday which he had often dreamt as a child.
As he took out his car, he saw Diya walking leisurely. He stopped and asked, "Could I give the beautiful lady a lift?"
She mumbled, "My house is quite nearby and I do not really need a lift."
But Edward was insistent and finally she got inside. They talked and chatted on the way. He knew that he wanted to hear her melodious voice, see her lovely eyes and just enjoy her company again and again. He asked himself if it was love at first sight. He wondered if she liked him. But, he knew that only time could provide answers to his questions. If it was an infatuation, it would wither away. If it was love, it would stay with him forever and forever and forever.
Since then, Edward's rise in cricket had been phenomenal. He had become everybody's envy as a spin bowler. When he got selected for the Australian cricket team four years later, he was ecstatic. He knew he owed it all to Diya for her continuous encouragement. Otherwise, he would have been an Assistant Editor – a field for which he was not so suited. It was Diya who fitted the job and had already carved out a niche for herself in the field. She had written fiery articles for which she had won a lot of accolades. He decided to propose Diya as he went to her with the news of his selection. After all, he had known Diya since four long years!
Since the first match of the one day series were going on, Diya had suggested that they keep their marriage low profile. It was decided that they would get married in the church in a simple ceremony and then announce their marriage after the one day series. She did not want Edward's attention to be diverted to anything other than cricket at that point of time.
Edward heaved a sigh when the party was finally over. He wanted to reach the church immediately. He wanted to see Diya in her red saree. He wanted to feel her in his arms, he wanted to hug her, kiss her and tell her how much he loved her. He knew that Diya must have been waiting for him with equal anxiety.
However, Edward was astounded when he found no trace of Diya at the church. He tried to call her on her mobile, but it was switched off. He had sent her atleast twenty messages since the match was over. When he did not find her, realization dawned upon him that Diya had not replied to either of the messages. He called up her brother, Divesh. He was equally stunned. He informed him that she had left home almost two hours back! Where was Diya?
Edward was mad. He immediately took out his car and headed towards her house. Was she caught in a traffic jam? He could not see her familiar face anywhere on the way. Divesh also informed him that he could not trace Diya.
As he was wondering what he should do next, finally there was a call from Diya's number. He was overjoyed. Even before she could speak, he yelled, "Diya, what is this? Where the hell are you? I have been searching you all over like mad and..."
Somebody silenced him on the phone before he could complete the sentence. He heard an authoritative voice say, "Inspector Thomas here. Diya has been badly hurt and we are in the Concord hospital. We saw your messages in her mobile and decided to call you. Can you come down immediately?"
Silently, Edward informed Divesh and they rushed to the hospital. Edward watched Diya in disbelief as he peeped through the glass partition. She lay unconscious in her red saree – the same red saree, which Edward had requested her to wear! But, her body was also red – red with blood all over. The doctors were trying to revive her. He wanted to go and hold her in his arms. But sadly, no one was allowed inside.
The Inspector had also reached there by then and he patted his back as he said, "Congrats for winning the match, Edward. I believe you love the girl. She had been attacked by some fellows. While we are still trying to nab the culprits and ascertain the cause, it is being said that it was a racial attack. Please have patience and help us catch the culprits. I know it hurts, but we are trying our best..."
Edward could hear no further. He sat down on the floor and started sobbing loudly. Why had he asked her to wear the damned saree? He glanced at Diya once again. Somebody came and patted his shoulder. It was the Doctor. He informed him, "Edward, Diya is alive, but she is in a coma. In such cases, sometimes the patient comes back to life almost instantaneously and sometimes it takes days and days."
Edward interrupted him, "And sometimes, the patient never comes back to life, isn't it?"
The Doctor lowered his head as he said, "Yes, in some cases the patient never normalizes."
Edward shouted, "Diya, please draw out your passion and zest to live life. I need you Diya, I need you. I can't live without you. You are my passion for life Diya, you are my passion." He rested his head against the wall and cried for hours.
Next day, Doctors allowed him to go and meet her. He held her hands for hours, cuddled her and embraced her. But, there were no signs of life. He was devastated. He did not want to live. Paparazzi had come to know the developments in his life and they were following him and the case. The two youths who had attacked Diya were caught. But, he could simply not come out of his shock and distress. After all, catching them would not bring back his Diya.
One day, as Edward entered his apartment, he saw Diya's face mocking at him from the life size poster in his living room. Her naughty gaze was asking him, “Won’t you kiss me darling? I want to savour your lips!”
He rested against the poster and wept inconsolably. Suddenly there was a tap on his shoulders. He looked back to find it was Divesh. He embraced Divesh and sobbed. Divesh asked, "Edward, I hope you are you are going to play your match tomorrow?"
Edward squealed, "Divesh, how the hell can you think of the match. Our dear Diya is lying in hospital – lifeless. Have you forgotten this?"
Divesh replied, "No, I have not forgotten it and can never forget it. But, do you remember why you loved Diya in the first place? For her zeal and passion for life, isn't it? Think from her point of view. Will she be happy to find that you have left playing?"
Edward was stunned by what Divesh had said. As he sat on the sofa, Diya flashed in his mind once again. He loved her. He had never thought of her nationality or her religion or his own nationality or religion while falling in love. Love is so pure, selfless and noble. It encompasses all boundaries of race, nation, religion and creed. But hatred is selfish and self-centred. It wraps itself with differences, hatred and biases. Why can't people simply love people? Today it was his Diya who was attacked. Tomorrow it could be any one else – some Amy, some Zeenat or some Manisha who will have to go through all this in some other part of the world. Why?
By morning he had taken a firm decision. He was going to play. Not for himself, but for his Diya and for all the Amys and Zeenats and Manishas. He was going to play and tell the world through the paparazzi to love human beings as human beings. Diya had told him once that Diya means a candle which lightens the world while it itself burns. True to her name, till Diya burnt, the world would atleast give a thought before committing such acts of hatred!
In the morning he was quite calm as he reached Diya's room in the hospital. He whispered in her ears, "Diya, you know I have learnt something more in life. Till now, we were both working for our passions. But now, I shall be playing for love – love for you and love for the mankind. And I no longer feel perturbed or insecure. I know I am going to help my team win today. When we get married, I will have much more to tell you."
For a moment Edward felt that Diya smiled. However, when he touched her again, there were no signs of life. But he was sure that Diya would come back to life one day. And he was ready to wait for her forever and forever and forever.
Short Story 2013, Featured Writer Amit Shankar Saha
Story of Nan Phu
The story of Nan Phu is not a story. That is to say, it is not fiction. It is real because many people, who are euphemistically called children, believe in it. Is it not what we believe to be real that is real for us? And frankly there is no other criterion to test the reality.
The story of Nan Phu is not a story. That is to say, it is not fiction. It is real because many people, who are euphemistically called children, believe in it. Is it not what we believe to be real that is real for us? And frankly there is no other criterion to test the reality.
So this story, which is not a story but reality, is about a boy called Nan Phu, who lived in the village of Bumboret a long time ago. He belonged to the Kalash tribe who populated the Chitral Mountains since time immemorial and they are known for their megalithic stone circles and ibex horn carvings. We all know, and children believe, that there were once ancient times when charms and magic and sorcery and witchcraft prevailed. The people of the Kalash tribe, since they retained the customs, traditions and lifestyle of ancient times, possessed the knowledge the advancement of civilisation made scarce, if not extinct, in other people. As part of this tribe Nan Phu was in possession of such esoteric knowledge.
In fact it was not knowledge but a box. Inside the box was a gate. Inside the gate was a world. Inside that world was another Bumboret village. And inside that village was another Nan Phu. This other Nan Phu also had a box, which had a gate that led back to this Nan Phu’s world. The only difference between the world outside the box and the world inside the box was that there was magic still prevailing in the world inside the box. And Nan Phu, not only the one inside the box but also the one outside the box, knew this.
It was a time when the British officer Alexander Burnes was tracing the footsteps of his illustrious namesake, Alexander the Great, in search of the famous altars of the Macedonian monarch. Alexander Burnes had a contingent of British officers with him, many with families waiting for them in Calcutta, the British administrative centre of India. For some days the men camped at Rumbur and in this time, one by one, the officers from Calcutta received news of the deaths of their children. The tropical climate of Gangetic Bengal played with the lives of British young ones, who lacked the immunity to withstand the onslaught of cholera and malaria.
In their imperialist zeal, the ambitious British officers had crossed the high seas and reached the land called India. But their colonial project did not find favour with the Druids and the Picts and the Elves and the Gnomes and the Goblins who for ages had protected the British children and provided them immunity from the scourge of diseases. Thus, in Calcutta, the unguarded children of the British officers became the victims of their fathers’ thoughtless ambition.
When all the officers accompanying Alexander Burnes went into mourning and he was left alone, he went on a walking tour of the vicinity of Rumbur. That was how he came to Bumboret and met Nan Phu. Though they did not speak with each other, since each one’s language was alien to the other, Nan Phu could read Burnes’s mind. Nan Phu, who still retained the remnants of magic from ancient times, could see through the eyes of Burnes the graves in Calcutta where the dead English children writhed and where the yet-to-be-born pleaded futilely with the Druids and the Picts and the Elves and the Gnomes and the Goblins for protection. It was then that Nan Phu decided to help the children. What was the use of the magic – or at least a box that held the gateway into a magical world – if not to do good to others?
It was a cloudy day when Nan Phu entered the gate inside the box. But he did not know that the clouds forebode a warning. So when he reached the other world, the world where charms and magic and sorcery and witchcraft still prevailed, he found it raining. The Indus thundered treacherously and anyone who was not a master of magic could well be carried away by the raging river. Nan Phu had unwittingly risked his life and his condition was precarious. He was wet in the rain and the flooded river’s current pulled at his feet. Luckily the other Nan Phu, the one of the magical world, had an intuition of his arrival and was ready to meet and protect his counterpart from the other world. Just as the rolling stones gave way beneath Nan Phu’s feet, a hand clutched his hand. They met – the two Nan Phus.
Instantly, to the surprise of the newly arrived Nan Phu, the rain stopped and the river sank back to its original level. Clouds dispersed. The sun came up. Seeing the quizzical look on the face of his counterpart, the Nan Phu of the magical world said: “The purpose of the river’s flooding was to put your life in peril and probably drown you. But since I have saved you, nature has abandoned its pursuit. That is how things happen in this world. You should have noticed the omen of the clouds before entering the box.
“Oh!” The speaker continued, “I am Nan Phu of this world. Call me ‘Phu’ because that is the name given to us by the magical world. I will call you ‘Nan’ because that is the name given to us by the world where magic has faded.”
In response Nan could only say, “Phu.”
“Yes.”
Soon Nan recovered from the shock of his brush with death. He liked Phu, whom he had always wanted to meet. He told him the purpose of his visit. Phu became pensive.
After a while Phu spoke. “You will have to travel to Ganok. To the Factory of Potions. That is where you will get the cure for the diseases that afflict the British children in Calcutta.”
Nan said excitedly, “Then I’ll go there this very moment. I have heard of the village of Ganok in my world and I will find my way there. Will you accompany me?”
“Sure, I’ll go with you. But it is a long journey. We will have to halt at Olthingthang. My pet ibex will guide us.”
Nan could not help but believe that Phu had a pet ibex. It seemed incredulous to him until he saw the creature with his own eyes, obediently following Phu’s commands.
After a while both Nan and Phu were on their way to Olthingthang, following Phu’s ibex. For Nan, this world was same as the world he had left behind, except he had an uncanny feeling that magic lurked in every cranny. When they reached Olthingthang, Nan found that despite walking a long time, he strangely felt no tiredness. He wanted to continue the journey. But Phu warned that even though the people do not feel any tiredness in the world of magic, the body’s muscles do become worn and so the boys must rest and eat something. The people in Olthingthang were just as the people Nan would have encountered in his own world, except for the many stares they received due to the two boys’ identical looks.
After a while, the two boys returned to walking, following the ibex. They crossed the turbulent river Tui and reached Ganok. It was then that Nan noticed the difference. The megalithic stone circles, which in his world were in ruins, were not so in this world. In Ganok the stone circle stood in full grandeur and inside it was the Factory of Potions.
As they neared the factory they had to jostle through the crowd to reach the stone gate. There were queues to enter. Soon they became a part of the sinuous line of people proceeding towards the gate. There were all sorts of people – some looked ordinary, some extraordinary. There were jugglers and conjurers; some wore coats and some wore rags; some were talking and some were silent; some made faces and some stood expressionless; some were white and some were black; and some were lookalikes like the boys. Once inside the gate the crowd dispersed. Though the Factory of Potions did not look like a big building capable of housing very many people, it appeared that people vanished once they entered the building. An old woman who was in the queue just ahead of the boys was nowhere to be found once she had entered the building.
At the reception desk Nan and Phu spoke to the receptionist, a woman in a suit, who directed them into an antechamber, where a group of men and women sat around a long table. They were clearly very important as was evident from their looks.
Phu spoke first and explained the purpose of the boys’ visit. Then Nan gave a description of the deplorable condition of the British children living in Calcutta. The men and women who mattered looked glum. A voice at the far end of the table rose and explained that they have already allotted the sought after cures to somebody. So it was not possible to re-allot the same. Nan lowered his eyelids and the curve of his lips arched. Phu said, “Isn’t there any other remedy?”
The voice at the other end spoke again, “I am afraid, no. In course of time the remedies will come to the world where magic has faded through the discoveries of Fleming, Ross and others. That is how knowledge is dispersed in that world of lost magic.”
Nan exclaimed “In course of time! Not immediately!”
“The cures have been made available to scientists but it will take years to recreate them in the non-magical world.”
Nan was at a loss for words. Phu was in thought. It was Phu who suggested, “What if Nan promises to deliver the cures immediately on reaching his world? Will that not expedite the delivery mechanism and save lives of children? I know that the council works by age-old rules but it is the exception that makes the rule. So why not make that exception now.”
The heads around the table entered into a consultation among themselves. And after a lengthy deliberation the voice at the end of the table rose again: “We have decided to give you the immunity potion instead if you promise to deliver it immediately to the needy on reaching your world.”
Nan’s face widened with a smile.
When Nan and Phu came out of the megalithic stone circle, they looked back and saw the Factory of Potions dissolving into thin air. Phu explained to the confused Nan that the Factory of Potions has exhausted its purpose serving them and so it need not exist anymore. That it how things work in the land of charms and magic and sorcery and witchcraft. Then, following the ibex, the two boys retraced their path back to Bumboret. They had the immunity potion with them.
Nan thanked Phu before he entered Phu’s box and passed through the gate inside. He came back to his own world and was surprised to find that everything was just as when he had left. The clouds were still there but immediately cleared. It seemed that while he was in that other world time had stood still here. But he had no time to keep thinking it over because he had to reach Calcutta as soon as possible.
Nan Phu’s journey from Bumboret to Calcutta is the stuff of legends. Although on returning to his village, he had written it down, but the old Kalash language became extinct and the story became undecipherable. In course of time many pages of the manuscript were destroyed in the turmoil of history. What little remained extant were interpreted by the eminent Dr. Rama, Dr. Gama and Dr. Dgama variously.
Through oral tradition it is known, and the children believe, that Nan Phu did come to Calcutta, crossing the passes at Skardu and journeying through Deoli, Shamli, Dehra, and Naini to Brahmganj to Berhampore to Barrackpore and finally to Calcutta. A Bengali folklore about Nondor Ma, whose medicinal potions cured many white children in Calcutta when the Western doctors failed to bring them relief, mentions the name of Nan Phu.
Perhaps Nondor Ma was the same old woman who stood in the queue ahead of Nan Phu in the Factory of Potions. It was through her that it is known that a boy had come from the northwest who sowed the immunity potion in the soil of Calcutta, mixed it in the waters of the Hooghly, blew it in the air of the city, and even hid it in books in the libraries. The white children gradually stopped dying, and the Druids and the Picts and the Elves and the Gnomes and the Goblins were all very happy and thankful to Nan Phu for what he had done. And all the white children of that time were happy and thankful to Nan Phu for bringing the potion of immunity into the land of tropical diseases and saving their lives.
And this is in short the story of Nan Phu.
Or in fact, this is not the story but the reality of Nan Phu – for many people, who are euphemistically called children, still believe that he existed.
Short Story 2013 Longlist, Vineet Chhajer
Love The Angel
“We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has
gone through to achieve that beauty.”~ Maya Angelou
Ritwik Acharya, a Brilliant Young Dynamic Multi-Talented Prodigy, but in angst
with the attitude of the People around him, the system and the Society at Large.
Few Reasons for his anger was a Failed Marriage between his Parents, His Childhood
Sweetheart of a Neighbour not allowed to see him because of Her Parents
Traditional mind-set, He Had topped the IITJEE but wasn’t allowed to Study as he
was Underage. College Admission in the Desired College wasn’t available because of
the Reservation system and the General Quota allowing just 9 Seats in his desired
programme.
He Topped in his Fashion Designing course from India’s Leading Fashion Schools,
Did his engineering with flying colours, Completed his MBA from one if India’s
finest and all at the age of 24, and the List of Qualifications being added just
kept on coming… but Wait, All These Qualifications were not because he had
interest in any of the Fields, but it was all to Prove a Point… Some to His
Separated Parents, Some to his Peers, Some to his Critics and Some to Society at
Large.
Amidst the Hoopla, He Lost himself.. what he wanted, what gave him happiness and
all that remained of him was an Angered Dissatisfied, Possible Over-Achiever gone
horribly wrong… The Frustrations took a toll and he started Smoking, Drinking and
Drugs too.. A Possible Fairytale was going Horribly Wrong.
His Best Friends were distancing themselves from him because of his futile
temperaments and mood swings, He wouldn’t listen to his Mom, Talk back to his
Father Rudely. Even The Professors he once adored had now No Control on his
abilities. The Genius was on the Loose and the Devil was taking Over..
His Recent Research Patent had got him a fortune and along came a Self Made’s EGO
too.. He had begun to think that He had it all but in Reality he had NOTHING! He
had begun to Lose all his Moral Values, Love and Beliefs… Money, Drugs, Sex &
Alochol were beginning to take their Effect on His Head. He was Driven to Grow
fast and now felt the need to have someone share his burden, so he decided to
interview for a New and Effective Secretary, who had a fair knowledge in his area
of expertise too.
An Ad was placed and Several Resume’s were received. He Personally shortlisted,
the 5 most Impressive candidates and they were called for an Interview. The
Interviews were as perceived, but the 3rd Candidate caught his Eyes, it was a
Certain Miss Rajini Chopra, she was a Topper and multi-faceted. When she entered
His Office, She Appeared Docile, Cute and yet Slightly Clumsy. The Interview began
and Ritwik asked her a set of Questions, The Most interesting Bit came in with the
Question, “What do you want to be 10 Years Down the Line?” Pat came the Answer,
“Happy!” from Rajini.
Ritwik was smart and inadvertently replied, “Don’t Give me That John Lennon quote
as an Answer, I’ve seen and heard of such things before, But Life doesn’t work
like that.” She quickly interjected in a cute Light voice “But it is.. For me!! I
Just want to be Happy & Content .”
Nonetheless She Was still selected, as She was Brilliant and Most Suited for the
Job. As Soon as she Joined, there was a buzz in his Workplace, someone Active,
Bubbly and Ever so Hardworking, he almost thought to himself.. “Where were you all
these Years??” Soon they became Friends and she would instantly throw the butt of
the Cigarette away without asking him, so that he wouldn’t smoke. On Formal
meetings as his assistant she ensured that he’d not Drink too much either. She was
trying her Level Best to Change him for the Good, But Old Habits die hard. He
never did Drugs at Workplace, so She never knew this about him. The Fact that he
had a Soft Corner for Rajini too ensured that his Cigarette and Alcohol intake
dropped substantially, but it also meant that with every Opportunity he got at
Home, His Drugs intake increased. This took a Toll on his Body and he was
hospitalized, only to be found with Damage in the Liver and One of the Kidney’s
almost not working.
Tears began to Flow from his Eyes, when Rajini came to meet him. He just realized
how much in Love he was with her.. He took her in his arms and said “I Don’t wanna
Die! I wanna live for I Love You!” This was their Moment of Truth, She consoled
him and said “Everything’s going to be Okay. You Shouldn’t Worry.. Just Promise
me, You’ll Leave all the Drugs, Alcohol and Cigarettes.. Promise Me You’d Live a
Life that You Deserve and a Fulfilling one that is.. Also Promise me You’ll see
Happiness everywhere and spread it always” He Replied.. “I Promise You”
A Little time Passed and she was Driving him from Work to his Residence, when
amidst it, he made her Stop the Car.. Told her to Come Out in front of the Car’s
Bonnet, he got down on One Knee and Proposed to her.. There were Tears in Her
Eyes, out of Happiness but this Moment of Love was dismal, and out of nowhere, a
Raging Truck came down there way and smashed the car from the side, The Car Spun
around abruptly because of the impact and she pushed him out of its Way. When he
Regained his Senses after a few moment has passed, he realized that she was Hit
and severely injured. He took her in his arms, not worrying about his own Blood
Loss and managed to reach a Hospital, where he collapsed soon after himself.
The Blood Loss in his own Body had triggered a Panic on his only working Kidney,
and his Body was Fast moving Towards the Failure of the 2nd Kidney, Panic set in
his family’s ranks for they needed a Donor and quickly, He was soon out of his
senses but kept on asking about Rajini and how she was, without getting an Answer.
He saw Death fast approaching him as the Light in front of him was fast Fading,
Then a Miracle happened, The Doctors found a Willing Kidney Donor and Liver Donor,
these People had agreed for the Transplant willingly and miraculously, their
Organs were a Perfect match.
He was operated upon by the Best Doctors of India and it was a Successful
Operation, when he gained senses, he had learnt what Real Happiness meant. He
gained New Found Reason to Live : Love, Happiness & Spreading Joy to the Lives of
the People who’s Life he could possibly Touch. More importantly he found Belief:
Both Self Belief and on the Supreme One. Within Minutes of this Eureka Moment he
called for Rajini, but to No avail. He checked for time and saw that it was 3:45
am, he thought she probable may have returned back home and would see him in the
morning. He slept like a Baby, content in Life after Ages. Next Morning, He Called
for Rajini again, He Received a Rose and an envelope instead. He smiled to see if
there was a Surprise in it.
After Reading the Letter, He began to Cry.. The Letter Read.. “Dear Ritwik, The
Moment I saw You, I was in Love With You.. Like Love at First Sight. When I Said,
I Wanted to be Happy and Content 10 Years down the Line, I meant that with you.
Blessed are the Select few who find their Soul-Mates in this Life, and I have been
more than Blessed.. I Feel I am God’s Favorite Angel at this moment. I got what I
wished for… YOU! Very Few People in One Life get an Opportunity to Live as Long as
their Beloved would, I’ve got mine! Now I’ll forever Live with you… in You! My
Organs were a Perfect Match for Yours, and am sure, Later in Life when you Do Good
for the Larger Society, I’ll gather some blessings from them too.. Always Fulfill
Your Promise to Me. Love, Ranjini”
He was Heartbroken at first, His Surgeon consoled him.. “She was a Brave Girl,
despite having severe concussions in the head and Broken Ribs which had hit her
Windpipe and she had started having complexities in Breathing, she only enquired
about your Health.. Perhaps she knew her time had come but she was alive for the
fact that she could help you. She Repeatedly told us to give her Kidneys and Liver
to you, and it was her Persistance and willful acceptance besides her
deteriorating condition that led us to test the Possibilities! She was a Perfect
match for Yours and we ultimately take the call. You were the Only One who could
be Saved..”
Ritwik had leant a New Meaning of Life : LOVE! He devoted the rest of his Life
married to his work, Serving Those in Need and Creating Happiness with all the
many Opportunities that came his Way! Whenever he Felt down in Life, He knew he
was letting Ranjini down and just her thought would miraculously remove all his
Problems.. An Atheist had finally and miraculously found his Personal angel:
Ranjini
“I was dead, then alive.
Weeping, then laughing.
The power of love came into me,
and I became fierce like a lion,
then tender like the evening star.” ~ Rumi
“Be helpless, dumbfounded,
Unable to say yes or no.
Then a stretcher will come from grace
to gather us up.
We are too dull-eyed to see that beauty.
If we say we can, we’re lying.
If we say No, we don’t see it,
That No will behead us
And shut tight our window onto spirit.
So let us rather not be sure of anything,
Beside ourselves, and only that, so
Miraculous beings come running to help.
Crazed, lying in a zero circle, mute,
We shall be saying finally,
With tremendous eloquence, Lead us.
When we have totally surrendered to that beauty,
We shall be a mighty kindness.” ~ Rumi
“We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has
gone through to achieve that beauty.”~ Maya Angelou
Ritwik Acharya, a Brilliant Young Dynamic Multi-Talented Prodigy, but in angst
with the attitude of the People around him, the system and the Society at Large.
Few Reasons for his anger was a Failed Marriage between his Parents, His Childhood
Sweetheart of a Neighbour not allowed to see him because of Her Parents
Traditional mind-set, He Had topped the IITJEE but wasn’t allowed to Study as he
was Underage. College Admission in the Desired College wasn’t available because of
the Reservation system and the General Quota allowing just 9 Seats in his desired
programme.
He Topped in his Fashion Designing course from India’s Leading Fashion Schools,
Did his engineering with flying colours, Completed his MBA from one if India’s
finest and all at the age of 24, and the List of Qualifications being added just
kept on coming… but Wait, All These Qualifications were not because he had
interest in any of the Fields, but it was all to Prove a Point… Some to His
Separated Parents, Some to his Peers, Some to his Critics and Some to Society at
Large.
Amidst the Hoopla, He Lost himself.. what he wanted, what gave him happiness and
all that remained of him was an Angered Dissatisfied, Possible Over-Achiever gone
horribly wrong… The Frustrations took a toll and he started Smoking, Drinking and
Drugs too.. A Possible Fairytale was going Horribly Wrong.
His Best Friends were distancing themselves from him because of his futile
temperaments and mood swings, He wouldn’t listen to his Mom, Talk back to his
Father Rudely. Even The Professors he once adored had now No Control on his
abilities. The Genius was on the Loose and the Devil was taking Over..
His Recent Research Patent had got him a fortune and along came a Self Made’s EGO
too.. He had begun to think that He had it all but in Reality he had NOTHING! He
had begun to Lose all his Moral Values, Love and Beliefs… Money, Drugs, Sex &
Alochol were beginning to take their Effect on His Head. He was Driven to Grow
fast and now felt the need to have someone share his burden, so he decided to
interview for a New and Effective Secretary, who had a fair knowledge in his area
of expertise too.
An Ad was placed and Several Resume’s were received. He Personally shortlisted,
the 5 most Impressive candidates and they were called for an Interview. The
Interviews were as perceived, but the 3rd Candidate caught his Eyes, it was a
Certain Miss Rajini Chopra, she was a Topper and multi-faceted. When she entered
His Office, She Appeared Docile, Cute and yet Slightly Clumsy. The Interview began
and Ritwik asked her a set of Questions, The Most interesting Bit came in with the
Question, “What do you want to be 10 Years Down the Line?” Pat came the Answer,
“Happy!” from Rajini.
Ritwik was smart and inadvertently replied, “Don’t Give me That John Lennon quote
as an Answer, I’ve seen and heard of such things before, But Life doesn’t work
like that.” She quickly interjected in a cute Light voice “But it is.. For me!! I
Just want to be Happy & Content .”
Nonetheless She Was still selected, as She was Brilliant and Most Suited for the
Job. As Soon as she Joined, there was a buzz in his Workplace, someone Active,
Bubbly and Ever so Hardworking, he almost thought to himself.. “Where were you all
these Years??” Soon they became Friends and she would instantly throw the butt of
the Cigarette away without asking him, so that he wouldn’t smoke. On Formal
meetings as his assistant she ensured that he’d not Drink too much either. She was
trying her Level Best to Change him for the Good, But Old Habits die hard. He
never did Drugs at Workplace, so She never knew this about him. The Fact that he
had a Soft Corner for Rajini too ensured that his Cigarette and Alcohol intake
dropped substantially, but it also meant that with every Opportunity he got at
Home, His Drugs intake increased. This took a Toll on his Body and he was
hospitalized, only to be found with Damage in the Liver and One of the Kidney’s
almost not working.
Tears began to Flow from his Eyes, when Rajini came to meet him. He just realized
how much in Love he was with her.. He took her in his arms and said “I Don’t wanna
Die! I wanna live for I Love You!” This was their Moment of Truth, She consoled
him and said “Everything’s going to be Okay. You Shouldn’t Worry.. Just Promise
me, You’ll Leave all the Drugs, Alcohol and Cigarettes.. Promise Me You’d Live a
Life that You Deserve and a Fulfilling one that is.. Also Promise me You’ll see
Happiness everywhere and spread it always” He Replied.. “I Promise You”
A Little time Passed and she was Driving him from Work to his Residence, when
amidst it, he made her Stop the Car.. Told her to Come Out in front of the Car’s
Bonnet, he got down on One Knee and Proposed to her.. There were Tears in Her
Eyes, out of Happiness but this Moment of Love was dismal, and out of nowhere, a
Raging Truck came down there way and smashed the car from the side, The Car Spun
around abruptly because of the impact and she pushed him out of its Way. When he
Regained his Senses after a few moment has passed, he realized that she was Hit
and severely injured. He took her in his arms, not worrying about his own Blood
Loss and managed to reach a Hospital, where he collapsed soon after himself.
The Blood Loss in his own Body had triggered a Panic on his only working Kidney,
and his Body was Fast moving Towards the Failure of the 2nd Kidney, Panic set in
his family’s ranks for they needed a Donor and quickly, He was soon out of his
senses but kept on asking about Rajini and how she was, without getting an Answer.
He saw Death fast approaching him as the Light in front of him was fast Fading,
Then a Miracle happened, The Doctors found a Willing Kidney Donor and Liver Donor,
these People had agreed for the Transplant willingly and miraculously, their
Organs were a Perfect match.
He was operated upon by the Best Doctors of India and it was a Successful
Operation, when he gained senses, he had learnt what Real Happiness meant. He
gained New Found Reason to Live : Love, Happiness & Spreading Joy to the Lives of
the People who’s Life he could possibly Touch. More importantly he found Belief:
Both Self Belief and on the Supreme One. Within Minutes of this Eureka Moment he
called for Rajini, but to No avail. He checked for time and saw that it was 3:45
am, he thought she probable may have returned back home and would see him in the
morning. He slept like a Baby, content in Life after Ages. Next Morning, He Called
for Rajini again, He Received a Rose and an envelope instead. He smiled to see if
there was a Surprise in it.
After Reading the Letter, He began to Cry.. The Letter Read.. “Dear Ritwik, The
Moment I saw You, I was in Love With You.. Like Love at First Sight. When I Said,
I Wanted to be Happy and Content 10 Years down the Line, I meant that with you.
Blessed are the Select few who find their Soul-Mates in this Life, and I have been
more than Blessed.. I Feel I am God’s Favorite Angel at this moment. I got what I
wished for… YOU! Very Few People in One Life get an Opportunity to Live as Long as
their Beloved would, I’ve got mine! Now I’ll forever Live with you… in You! My
Organs were a Perfect Match for Yours, and am sure, Later in Life when you Do Good
for the Larger Society, I’ll gather some blessings from them too.. Always Fulfill
Your Promise to Me. Love, Ranjini”
He was Heartbroken at first, His Surgeon consoled him.. “She was a Brave Girl,
despite having severe concussions in the head and Broken Ribs which had hit her
Windpipe and she had started having complexities in Breathing, she only enquired
about your Health.. Perhaps she knew her time had come but she was alive for the
fact that she could help you. She Repeatedly told us to give her Kidneys and Liver
to you, and it was her Persistance and willful acceptance besides her
deteriorating condition that led us to test the Possibilities! She was a Perfect
match for Yours and we ultimately take the call. You were the Only One who could
be Saved..”
Ritwik had leant a New Meaning of Life : LOVE! He devoted the rest of his Life
married to his work, Serving Those in Need and Creating Happiness with all the
many Opportunities that came his Way! Whenever he Felt down in Life, He knew he
was letting Ranjini down and just her thought would miraculously remove all his
Problems.. An Atheist had finally and miraculously found his Personal angel:
Ranjini
“I was dead, then alive.
Weeping, then laughing.
The power of love came into me,
and I became fierce like a lion,
then tender like the evening star.” ~ Rumi
“Be helpless, dumbfounded,
Unable to say yes or no.
Then a stretcher will come from grace
to gather us up.
We are too dull-eyed to see that beauty.
If we say we can, we’re lying.
If we say No, we don’t see it,
That No will behead us
And shut tight our window onto spirit.
So let us rather not be sure of anything,
Beside ourselves, and only that, so
Miraculous beings come running to help.
Crazed, lying in a zero circle, mute,
We shall be saying finally,
With tremendous eloquence, Lead us.
When we have totally surrendered to that beauty,
We shall be a mighty kindness.” ~ Rumi
Short Story 2013 Shortlist, Prashanth Ashok
The Silent Chaos
Around 10 AM, December 29, 2004
Stanley Hospital, Chennai
Priya (full of dried tears) : “Doctor, it has been more than two days since my husband was admitted here. Can you tell me how his condition is? Please do let us know whatever it is”
Doctor Samuel : “Madam, you know very well that we are trying our best to save your husband. But he is not the only patient here suffering after the calamity. We do have thousands of other patients to look after. Please try to understand”.
So saying, the doctor walked away. Priya collapsed back onto the chair once again, prayers finding their way towards God, out of her mouth.
“God, please don’t let my husband die. Take mine instead. He is such an amazing human being and you know that. How could this happen to him? You have already taken my child away from me. Not my husband as well. I still haven’t mourned my daughter’s death. He and I would do that together. Let him live, at least for this. Please, God. Please. Spare my husband’s life. I still haven’t given him his birthday gift. It still lies underneath our bed. I want him to get back home and hunt for it himself. Take my life. I am content with the time we have spent together. I am more than willing to die. Take mine, spare him. Let him live. You know, he has always told me that his lifelong ambition was to go on a trekking expedition along the Himalayas. Let him achieve that first. Let him live. God, please save him. Please, let him not die. Take mine instead. Please! Please! Please!” – Priya’s mind was torn between an array of emotions. The tears seemed to have a free flow down her face and they seemed not to cease ever. Her beautiful face was a complete mess. More than anything, she was completely alone. No one was there to give her even a moral support.
Around 6 AM, December 26, 2004
Along Beach Road, Marina
“Appa, appa, anga paren (Dad, look there)” – Akshara pointed somewhere to the right.
“Aksha, chumma iru. Daddy vandi ottaren la. (Aksha, keep quiet. Daddy is driving, right?)” – Rahim moved Akshara’s hand back.
“Illa pa, anga perusu perusa ala varudu. (No dad, I can see huge waves there)” – Akshara did not stop.
“Adhellam onnum illa kanna. Ala perusa than varum. (No my dear, waves will be huge)” – Rahim smiled at his daughter’s innocence.
“Sonna kelu pa, idhu rumba periya ala. Nee paren oru vatti. (Listen to me daddy, this is a very huge wave. You see there once)” – Akshara insisted.
“Enna kanna nee. Seri pakkaren iru. (Ok, I will see, my dear)” – so saying, Rahim turned his face.
He was terrorized by what he saw. He had never seen such gigantic waves, in all his life. Hell, he had not even heard of them. By the time he could even react and turn his bike, the waves caught up with them and completely swept them off.
Few minutes later, TV channels blared the flash news – TSUNAMI STRIKES INDIA.
Around 8 AM, December 26, 2004
Stanley Hospital, Chennai
The ambulance rushed into the hospital, with a few patients alive and mostly corpses.
Those alive, were put onto stretchers and rushed to the Emergency Ward.
Those not alive, were assembled in the mortuary.
“Nurse, quick. Put him on ventilator. I can see an injury to his head. Lets see if there is any haemorrhage. Lets start all emergency procedures” – Dr. Samuel rushed his assistant. Once on ventilator, the doctor hastened to look into the wallet he had retrieved earlier for any ICE(In Case of Emergency) numbers.
“Rahim” – the doctor read out aloud. He rummaged through the wallet and found a picture of a lady holding a child. “Maybe his wife and daughter”, the doctor said to himself. He found a piece of paper with a mobile number written on it. He dialed the number.
Around 9 AM, December 26, 2004
Stanley Hospital, Chennai
Priya ran into the Emergency Ward of the hospital.
“Oh my God, Rahim. How could this happen to you? You, of all people. Why such a terrible punishment. Where is our daughter? God, why did you do this to my husband? Don’t you know he is such a good person? Why Rahim” – Priya cried her heart out. The whole atmosphere was nauseating. Priya couldn’t stop crying. She didn’t know what to do.
“Are you Rahim’s wife?” – enquired Dr Samuel, when he walked into the room, towards Rahim’s bed.
“Yes doctor. I am Priya. How is he? Please tell me he will survive. I cannot bear to imagine anything happening to him” – Priya pleaded with the doctor, her eyes full of tears.
“We are trying our best, Priya. But his condition is extremely critical. He has suffered from some haemorrhage in the head. We are trying our best to remove a blood clot. I cannot say anything for 48 hours”.
“Doctor, what about my child? My daughter Akshara. She was with Rahim” – Priya asked the doctor.
“Your daughter? Only Rahim was brought in here. No child was brought along with him. I am afraid they must have been separated. I hope your daughter will be found soon. Did you try to contact the police? Oh wait, is this your daughter, by the way?” – Samuel handed the photo to Priya.
“Yes Doctor. She is my child. Such a beautiful girl, isn’t she? Oh my dear, where am I going to find you? Are you still waiting for Mummy? Don’t worry darling, mummy will soon find you” – Priya was muttering to herself incoherently.
“Do not worry, Priya. I will see what I can find out about your daugh…” – Dr Samuel broke off, seeing that Priya was not listening.
Around 4 PM, December 26, 2004
Stanley Hospital, Chennai
“Priya, I am afraid I have some bad news for you, concerning Akshara” – Dr Samuel walked upto her.
“What! What is it Doctor? Is Aksha alright? Please tell me my daughter is alright. Uncle, please speak. Please Uncle” – Priya cried.
“I am sorry, Priya. Akshara is no more. I happened to see her…" the doctor could not complete his sentence, as Priya collapsed on the floor
“WHAT!! AKSHA! MY BEAUTIFUL BABY. HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN? UNCLE, HOW CAN MY DAUGHTER DIE? TELL ME. WHAT DID I DO WRONG? WHY IS GOD PUNISHING ME SO MUCH? ON ONE SIDE, I HAVE BEEN PRAYING FOR MY HUSBAND’S LIFE. HERE YOU ARE, INFORMING ME OF MY DAUGHTER’S DEATH. OH YOU POOR GIRL. HOW CAN YOU LEAVE MUMMY AND GO? WHAT WILL MUMMY DO WITHOUT YOU? WHY AKSHARA?” – her mind was racing.
“Something is not right. How could my daughter die? No, the doctor is confused. Or wait. Why should he be confused? Is my daughter really dead? Is my beautiful girl really no more?” - she could not comprehend her daughter’s death. She seemed hysterical, although she did not speak.
The doctors gave her a round of strong sedatives.
Around 1 PM, December 29, 2004
Stanley Hospital, Chennai
As Priya recollected the events of the past three days, she could not control her tears. Once again, she started crying. Besides, she was all alone.
“How much my life has changed in two days. It seems so fresh in my mind, that Aksha was so enthusiastic about planning for Rahim’s birthday. Yet, my daughter is no more. Dear God, how could you do this to me? We were such a beautiful family. Aksha meant the world to both Rahim and me. Why did you take her away from me? Instead, you could have taken my life and spared my child’s. Why do I have to live, when my daughter is no more. Why did Rahim have to go out on that dreadful day? Oh My God, Rahim. Why do I have to suffer? Why won’t you come back to me quickly? Why give me all this pain? You know very well that you are my world. I have no one left Rahim. What would I do if something were to happen to you? Would I be orphaned yet again? No, I cannot bear something like that. Rahim, you better come back to me quickly. Oh God, what would I tell you about Aksha. She was such a lovely girl. Come back to me, Rahim. I cannot live without you. Remember all the wonderful times we spent together? The first time I met you at work, when you bumped into me and gave a sheepish smile? That’s when I fell for you. And now, you are here, fighting for life. Remember, when Aksha was born. You said, we would give the entire world to her? Now, she is no more, Rahim. Our daughter, our sweet Aksha, is dead. She is no more. And now, I am praying that God spare atleast your life. I am not bothered about mine. Let him take mine, but you should live. You are such a wonderful person. You have been good to people all through your life. You mean the world to me, Rahim. Have I ever told you how much I love you? You mean everything to me. I love you Rahim. I love you, my dear husba…” –
“Priya, can we talk?” – Dr. Samuel walked upto her.
“What is it doctor? Is Rahim ok? Please tell me his condition has improved. Is he out of danger?” – Priya was scared.
“Priya, I am afraid I bear more bad news. We tried our very best to save Rahim. But God has destined otherwise. I regret to tell you that your husband Rahim is no more” – the doctor spoke.
Priya collapsed that very instant. Her otherwise chaotic mind, was now completely silent.
Around 10 AM, December 29, 2004
Stanley Hospital, Chennai
Priya (full of dried tears) : “Doctor, it has been more than two days since my husband was admitted here. Can you tell me how his condition is? Please do let us know whatever it is”
Doctor Samuel : “Madam, you know very well that we are trying our best to save your husband. But he is not the only patient here suffering after the calamity. We do have thousands of other patients to look after. Please try to understand”.
So saying, the doctor walked away. Priya collapsed back onto the chair once again, prayers finding their way towards God, out of her mouth.
“God, please don’t let my husband die. Take mine instead. He is such an amazing human being and you know that. How could this happen to him? You have already taken my child away from me. Not my husband as well. I still haven’t mourned my daughter’s death. He and I would do that together. Let him live, at least for this. Please, God. Please. Spare my husband’s life. I still haven’t given him his birthday gift. It still lies underneath our bed. I want him to get back home and hunt for it himself. Take my life. I am content with the time we have spent together. I am more than willing to die. Take mine, spare him. Let him live. You know, he has always told me that his lifelong ambition was to go on a trekking expedition along the Himalayas. Let him achieve that first. Let him live. God, please save him. Please, let him not die. Take mine instead. Please! Please! Please!” – Priya’s mind was torn between an array of emotions. The tears seemed to have a free flow down her face and they seemed not to cease ever. Her beautiful face was a complete mess. More than anything, she was completely alone. No one was there to give her even a moral support.
Around 6 AM, December 26, 2004
Along Beach Road, Marina
“Appa, appa, anga paren (Dad, look there)” – Akshara pointed somewhere to the right.
“Aksha, chumma iru. Daddy vandi ottaren la. (Aksha, keep quiet. Daddy is driving, right?)” – Rahim moved Akshara’s hand back.
“Illa pa, anga perusu perusa ala varudu. (No dad, I can see huge waves there)” – Akshara did not stop.
“Adhellam onnum illa kanna. Ala perusa than varum. (No my dear, waves will be huge)” – Rahim smiled at his daughter’s innocence.
“Sonna kelu pa, idhu rumba periya ala. Nee paren oru vatti. (Listen to me daddy, this is a very huge wave. You see there once)” – Akshara insisted.
“Enna kanna nee. Seri pakkaren iru. (Ok, I will see, my dear)” – so saying, Rahim turned his face.
He was terrorized by what he saw. He had never seen such gigantic waves, in all his life. Hell, he had not even heard of them. By the time he could even react and turn his bike, the waves caught up with them and completely swept them off.
Few minutes later, TV channels blared the flash news – TSUNAMI STRIKES INDIA.
Around 8 AM, December 26, 2004
Stanley Hospital, Chennai
The ambulance rushed into the hospital, with a few patients alive and mostly corpses.
Those alive, were put onto stretchers and rushed to the Emergency Ward.
Those not alive, were assembled in the mortuary.
“Nurse, quick. Put him on ventilator. I can see an injury to his head. Lets see if there is any haemorrhage. Lets start all emergency procedures” – Dr. Samuel rushed his assistant. Once on ventilator, the doctor hastened to look into the wallet he had retrieved earlier for any ICE(In Case of Emergency) numbers.
“Rahim” – the doctor read out aloud. He rummaged through the wallet and found a picture of a lady holding a child. “Maybe his wife and daughter”, the doctor said to himself. He found a piece of paper with a mobile number written on it. He dialed the number.
Around 9 AM, December 26, 2004
Stanley Hospital, Chennai
Priya ran into the Emergency Ward of the hospital.
“Oh my God, Rahim. How could this happen to you? You, of all people. Why such a terrible punishment. Where is our daughter? God, why did you do this to my husband? Don’t you know he is such a good person? Why Rahim” – Priya cried her heart out. The whole atmosphere was nauseating. Priya couldn’t stop crying. She didn’t know what to do.
“Are you Rahim’s wife?” – enquired Dr Samuel, when he walked into the room, towards Rahim’s bed.
“Yes doctor. I am Priya. How is he? Please tell me he will survive. I cannot bear to imagine anything happening to him” – Priya pleaded with the doctor, her eyes full of tears.
“We are trying our best, Priya. But his condition is extremely critical. He has suffered from some haemorrhage in the head. We are trying our best to remove a blood clot. I cannot say anything for 48 hours”.
“Doctor, what about my child? My daughter Akshara. She was with Rahim” – Priya asked the doctor.
“Your daughter? Only Rahim was brought in here. No child was brought along with him. I am afraid they must have been separated. I hope your daughter will be found soon. Did you try to contact the police? Oh wait, is this your daughter, by the way?” – Samuel handed the photo to Priya.
“Yes Doctor. She is my child. Such a beautiful girl, isn’t she? Oh my dear, where am I going to find you? Are you still waiting for Mummy? Don’t worry darling, mummy will soon find you” – Priya was muttering to herself incoherently.
“Do not worry, Priya. I will see what I can find out about your daugh…” – Dr Samuel broke off, seeing that Priya was not listening.
Around 4 PM, December 26, 2004
Stanley Hospital, Chennai
“Priya, I am afraid I have some bad news for you, concerning Akshara” – Dr Samuel walked upto her.
“What! What is it Doctor? Is Aksha alright? Please tell me my daughter is alright. Uncle, please speak. Please Uncle” – Priya cried.
“I am sorry, Priya. Akshara is no more. I happened to see her…" the doctor could not complete his sentence, as Priya collapsed on the floor
“WHAT!! AKSHA! MY BEAUTIFUL BABY. HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN? UNCLE, HOW CAN MY DAUGHTER DIE? TELL ME. WHAT DID I DO WRONG? WHY IS GOD PUNISHING ME SO MUCH? ON ONE SIDE, I HAVE BEEN PRAYING FOR MY HUSBAND’S LIFE. HERE YOU ARE, INFORMING ME OF MY DAUGHTER’S DEATH. OH YOU POOR GIRL. HOW CAN YOU LEAVE MUMMY AND GO? WHAT WILL MUMMY DO WITHOUT YOU? WHY AKSHARA?” – her mind was racing.
“Something is not right. How could my daughter die? No, the doctor is confused. Or wait. Why should he be confused? Is my daughter really dead? Is my beautiful girl really no more?” - she could not comprehend her daughter’s death. She seemed hysterical, although she did not speak.
The doctors gave her a round of strong sedatives.
Around 1 PM, December 29, 2004
Stanley Hospital, Chennai
As Priya recollected the events of the past three days, she could not control her tears. Once again, she started crying. Besides, she was all alone.
“How much my life has changed in two days. It seems so fresh in my mind, that Aksha was so enthusiastic about planning for Rahim’s birthday. Yet, my daughter is no more. Dear God, how could you do this to me? We were such a beautiful family. Aksha meant the world to both Rahim and me. Why did you take her away from me? Instead, you could have taken my life and spared my child’s. Why do I have to live, when my daughter is no more. Why did Rahim have to go out on that dreadful day? Oh My God, Rahim. Why do I have to suffer? Why won’t you come back to me quickly? Why give me all this pain? You know very well that you are my world. I have no one left Rahim. What would I do if something were to happen to you? Would I be orphaned yet again? No, I cannot bear something like that. Rahim, you better come back to me quickly. Oh God, what would I tell you about Aksha. She was such a lovely girl. Come back to me, Rahim. I cannot live without you. Remember all the wonderful times we spent together? The first time I met you at work, when you bumped into me and gave a sheepish smile? That’s when I fell for you. And now, you are here, fighting for life. Remember, when Aksha was born. You said, we would give the entire world to her? Now, she is no more, Rahim. Our daughter, our sweet Aksha, is dead. She is no more. And now, I am praying that God spare atleast your life. I am not bothered about mine. Let him take mine, but you should live. You are such a wonderful person. You have been good to people all through your life. You mean the world to me, Rahim. Have I ever told you how much I love you? You mean everything to me. I love you Rahim. I love you, my dear husba…” –
“Priya, can we talk?” – Dr. Samuel walked upto her.
“What is it doctor? Is Rahim ok? Please tell me his condition has improved. Is he out of danger?” – Priya was scared.
“Priya, I am afraid I bear more bad news. We tried our very best to save Rahim. But God has destined otherwise. I regret to tell you that your husband Rahim is no more” – the doctor spoke.
Priya collapsed that very instant. Her otherwise chaotic mind, was now completely silent.
Short Story 2013 Shortlist, Heema Shirwaikar
Suspicion
Shankar lazily twirled the wooden stick in his hand and let out a yawn. It was just another ordinary day at Rustomjee’s Departmental Store, and Shankar the security guard hadn’t found any potential suspicious customer to narrow his eyes at yet. Shankar had worked at the departmental store as the security guard ever since anyone could remember. It had been a routine for him to keep a distrustful eye on the teenagers and glare at the pesky kids into submission. It was what made his otherwise dull job interesting. Nothing made his day better than waving his stick at the noisy unruly kids and occasionally shouting reproaches. He personally took it as a matter of pride when kids referred to him as the ‘Hunterwale Mama’, making up rumours about him in hushed voices which generally ranged from claiming that he took away the naughty kids and locked them up in a secret dungeon under his house to some more bizarre ones like him being a ghost who haunted kids who didn’t listen to their parents. As long as it made children behave though, he did not mind them at all; in fact, he even laughed at the sheer imagination of what children could come up with!
It was a particularly busy afternoon at Rustomjee’s. The day was sunny and hot. The kind where anything and everything adds to irritation. There was hustle and bustle of people at the store. It was mostly frequented by housewives strolled down the utilities and groceries aisles with their noisy infants in tow at this time of the day. Shankar wasn’t fond of kids. He eyed warily as an infant let out a shrill cry and grabbed his mother’s arm. He mentally thanked himself for not having decided to marry or have a family. The kids he had to deal with at the store on a daily basis were bad enough, having ones of his own was out of question.
A tall and smart lady approached him to ask him the whereabouts of the bath utilities. She had short straight hair, the kind which rich businesswomen had. She was wearing an expensive-looking plaid formal skirt and a matching suit to go with, on a hot sunny day like this. She must be someone very important, he thought. He got up from his seat to escort her to the aisle, when there was a small tinkle at the door. A teenager, barely sixteen, entered the store. She was what would pass off as Suspect No.1 on Shankar’s Suspicious Customer List. Shankar took one look at the girl and he knew what she was there for. He quickly escorted the lady to her aisle and darted back to the front of the store to keep an eye on the girl.
He could not make an error of judgment. No, he had much too experience to know her kind just by looking at her. She had curly long hair, painted with every possible colour of the rainbow. Her bright baggy jeans which looked perfect to sneak items in, hung much lower than where it was supposed to be worn. Her skinny tight top revealed more than what it was supposed to cover. Her black boots with strange graffiti on them thumped heavily as she walked. She wore thick silver chains around her neck and on her hands, which looked as though they enslaved her to her weird Goth personality. Yes, he knew it. He could see it. He was sure of it. More sure than he’d ever been. The kid was definitely a thief.
Shankar followed her closely. He surveyed her every move with keen eyes; like an eagle waiting for the right moment to prey. Yes, he would wait for it, the act of felony. And then, he would catch her red-handed, and set her straight. Straight, unlike her unruly curly hair with a thousand colours in them, he thought.
The girl headed straight to the make-up aisle. She picked up a bright blood red lipstick and tried it on, on her already painted lips. Shankar shook his head in disgust. Who were her parents? Where were they? How could they let their kid out like that? Were they even aware of her activities? Once he caught her he’d take her straight to her parents first and give them an earful. He may not have had a family; but he sure knew how to set kids straight. Her thick chains clunked every time she bounced from one shelf to another with a little too much enthusiasm. Shankar looked on disapprovingly. That would be her jewellery, no doubt. At least its annoying chime would make it easier for him to keep track of her whereabouts, he thought. Whether she wore them because she couldn’t afford anything else, or whether it was her weird sense of style, he did not know. But one thing he was sure about – the girl was definitely a thief! Any moment now, and he would catch her in the act.
The girl moved to the shelf of nail polishes and tried on some black nail paint while Shankar impatiently paced back and forth. The lady in formals went past them, brooding over the aisles and Shankar wondered when this kid would be like her – mature, responsible, graceful and classy; an adult. A grown up. It was as if he just wanted her to take a leap to maturity right then and there, before she even left the store. He had started to become impatient now. When was she going to commit the act? What was she waiting for? Did she know that he had been watching her? He retreated to a more secluded spot, away from her eyes. No, he would not leave this chance. He would definitely catch her today.
The girl confidently strolled down the aisles. She seemed to know where she was going and know what she was doing. She proceeded to the back of the store, aimlessly strolling as if she was on a leisurely walk. Or perhaps, her aim was to get away from the security guard’s prying eyes? But he knew better. He had experience on his hand. He would not get fooled by a mere girl like her. He would not lose sight of her. The girl seemed to be suspiciously loitering for much too long. He approached her. “What are you doing here, kid?” he barked in his most gruff and intimidating voice. “Just looking, now, is that a crime?” The girl answered coolly. “Don’t you talk to me like that kid, either buy something or get going!” he threatened. So, the girl was bolder than he had thought. Perhaps she had done this before, and escaped without getting caught. But that would not happen now. Not when it was him she was dealing with. He was experienced, much more experienced than a mere girl of sixteen.
Suddenly, there was a loud ruckus at the front of the store. Shankar reluctantly left to attend to it. But he would not let her escape. He mentally made a note of it. A stubborn little child had overturned his mother’s shopping basket. Shankar vicariously took the pleasure of watching the mother scold the child. Yes, children need to be straightened out, that was his firm belief. Or they grew up to be like the girl at the back of the store. Oh, yes! The girl! He had to hurry back to keep an eye on her. He hastily placed the contents of the shopping basket back into it and handed it to the lady. He then darted to the back of the store to keep an eye on the girl. Only, she wasn’t there anymore. So, she had given him a slip. But she wasn’t clever enough for him! After all, he had a lot more experience than a mere girl of sixteen. She wouldn’t be able to dodge him for long. He started looking for her, trying to listen for the sound of the clinking chains and the thumping boots.
But just as he was about to, everything was suddenly drowned out by the deafening noise of the alarm system. FINALLY! He would have his moment now. Justice would be done and the guilty would be punished. He could almost picture her, caught in the act, her smug face fallen, her confidence broken. He had a smirk of satisfaction on his face. He sauntered forward purposefully to see the face of the culprit.
There she was, head hung low with shame, hiding a perfume bottle clutched in her hands, trying to avoid eye contact, and shirking the accusing stares of the fellow customer. She stood there, her face barely hidden under her short straight tresses, shifting uncomfortably in her plaid skirt and suit. Humiliated, she returned the stolen perfume on the counter, even as the wild Goth teenager stood beside her, paying for her bright blood red lipstick and her black nail polish. Shankar quietly proceeded to apprehend the perpetrator. Never again was he seen narrowing his eyes at possible suspicious customers.
Shankar lazily twirled the wooden stick in his hand and let out a yawn. It was just another ordinary day at Rustomjee’s Departmental Store, and Shankar the security guard hadn’t found any potential suspicious customer to narrow his eyes at yet. Shankar had worked at the departmental store as the security guard ever since anyone could remember. It had been a routine for him to keep a distrustful eye on the teenagers and glare at the pesky kids into submission. It was what made his otherwise dull job interesting. Nothing made his day better than waving his stick at the noisy unruly kids and occasionally shouting reproaches. He personally took it as a matter of pride when kids referred to him as the ‘Hunterwale Mama’, making up rumours about him in hushed voices which generally ranged from claiming that he took away the naughty kids and locked them up in a secret dungeon under his house to some more bizarre ones like him being a ghost who haunted kids who didn’t listen to their parents. As long as it made children behave though, he did not mind them at all; in fact, he even laughed at the sheer imagination of what children could come up with!
It was a particularly busy afternoon at Rustomjee’s. The day was sunny and hot. The kind where anything and everything adds to irritation. There was hustle and bustle of people at the store. It was mostly frequented by housewives strolled down the utilities and groceries aisles with their noisy infants in tow at this time of the day. Shankar wasn’t fond of kids. He eyed warily as an infant let out a shrill cry and grabbed his mother’s arm. He mentally thanked himself for not having decided to marry or have a family. The kids he had to deal with at the store on a daily basis were bad enough, having ones of his own was out of question.
A tall and smart lady approached him to ask him the whereabouts of the bath utilities. She had short straight hair, the kind which rich businesswomen had. She was wearing an expensive-looking plaid formal skirt and a matching suit to go with, on a hot sunny day like this. She must be someone very important, he thought. He got up from his seat to escort her to the aisle, when there was a small tinkle at the door. A teenager, barely sixteen, entered the store. She was what would pass off as Suspect No.1 on Shankar’s Suspicious Customer List. Shankar took one look at the girl and he knew what she was there for. He quickly escorted the lady to her aisle and darted back to the front of the store to keep an eye on the girl.
He could not make an error of judgment. No, he had much too experience to know her kind just by looking at her. She had curly long hair, painted with every possible colour of the rainbow. Her bright baggy jeans which looked perfect to sneak items in, hung much lower than where it was supposed to be worn. Her skinny tight top revealed more than what it was supposed to cover. Her black boots with strange graffiti on them thumped heavily as she walked. She wore thick silver chains around her neck and on her hands, which looked as though they enslaved her to her weird Goth personality. Yes, he knew it. He could see it. He was sure of it. More sure than he’d ever been. The kid was definitely a thief.
Shankar followed her closely. He surveyed her every move with keen eyes; like an eagle waiting for the right moment to prey. Yes, he would wait for it, the act of felony. And then, he would catch her red-handed, and set her straight. Straight, unlike her unruly curly hair with a thousand colours in them, he thought.
The girl headed straight to the make-up aisle. She picked up a bright blood red lipstick and tried it on, on her already painted lips. Shankar shook his head in disgust. Who were her parents? Where were they? How could they let their kid out like that? Were they even aware of her activities? Once he caught her he’d take her straight to her parents first and give them an earful. He may not have had a family; but he sure knew how to set kids straight. Her thick chains clunked every time she bounced from one shelf to another with a little too much enthusiasm. Shankar looked on disapprovingly. That would be her jewellery, no doubt. At least its annoying chime would make it easier for him to keep track of her whereabouts, he thought. Whether she wore them because she couldn’t afford anything else, or whether it was her weird sense of style, he did not know. But one thing he was sure about – the girl was definitely a thief! Any moment now, and he would catch her in the act.
The girl moved to the shelf of nail polishes and tried on some black nail paint while Shankar impatiently paced back and forth. The lady in formals went past them, brooding over the aisles and Shankar wondered when this kid would be like her – mature, responsible, graceful and classy; an adult. A grown up. It was as if he just wanted her to take a leap to maturity right then and there, before she even left the store. He had started to become impatient now. When was she going to commit the act? What was she waiting for? Did she know that he had been watching her? He retreated to a more secluded spot, away from her eyes. No, he would not leave this chance. He would definitely catch her today.
The girl confidently strolled down the aisles. She seemed to know where she was going and know what she was doing. She proceeded to the back of the store, aimlessly strolling as if she was on a leisurely walk. Or perhaps, her aim was to get away from the security guard’s prying eyes? But he knew better. He had experience on his hand. He would not get fooled by a mere girl like her. He would not lose sight of her. The girl seemed to be suspiciously loitering for much too long. He approached her. “What are you doing here, kid?” he barked in his most gruff and intimidating voice. “Just looking, now, is that a crime?” The girl answered coolly. “Don’t you talk to me like that kid, either buy something or get going!” he threatened. So, the girl was bolder than he had thought. Perhaps she had done this before, and escaped without getting caught. But that would not happen now. Not when it was him she was dealing with. He was experienced, much more experienced than a mere girl of sixteen.
Suddenly, there was a loud ruckus at the front of the store. Shankar reluctantly left to attend to it. But he would not let her escape. He mentally made a note of it. A stubborn little child had overturned his mother’s shopping basket. Shankar vicariously took the pleasure of watching the mother scold the child. Yes, children need to be straightened out, that was his firm belief. Or they grew up to be like the girl at the back of the store. Oh, yes! The girl! He had to hurry back to keep an eye on her. He hastily placed the contents of the shopping basket back into it and handed it to the lady. He then darted to the back of the store to keep an eye on the girl. Only, she wasn’t there anymore. So, she had given him a slip. But she wasn’t clever enough for him! After all, he had a lot more experience than a mere girl of sixteen. She wouldn’t be able to dodge him for long. He started looking for her, trying to listen for the sound of the clinking chains and the thumping boots.
But just as he was about to, everything was suddenly drowned out by the deafening noise of the alarm system. FINALLY! He would have his moment now. Justice would be done and the guilty would be punished. He could almost picture her, caught in the act, her smug face fallen, her confidence broken. He had a smirk of satisfaction on his face. He sauntered forward purposefully to see the face of the culprit.
There she was, head hung low with shame, hiding a perfume bottle clutched in her hands, trying to avoid eye contact, and shirking the accusing stares of the fellow customer. She stood there, her face barely hidden under her short straight tresses, shifting uncomfortably in her plaid skirt and suit. Humiliated, she returned the stolen perfume on the counter, even as the wild Goth teenager stood beside her, paying for her bright blood red lipstick and her black nail polish. Shankar quietly proceeded to apprehend the perpetrator. Never again was he seen narrowing his eyes at possible suspicious customers.
Short Story 2013 Shortlist, Vishal Gupta
The Day Which Could Have Been
Oh dear! It was all just a dream. He woke up with a start, sweating.
He didn’t have the time to lay more focus on the dream. It was already 8:20 am. Class began in 10 minutes. He had to rush lest he be thrown out of class again. He quickly picked up his bag, gave a thoughtful look to the toothbrush and ran out of the room. He never noticed the note pressed below the clock.
It was another usual day. He cycled past innumerable faces which he saw every day. They never cared to give him a glance. Everyone is so self-engulfed here. He reached the classroom. The professor had already started distributing sleeping pills. He quietly went to sit in his usual chair. The professor didn’t seem to care. He must be used to it by now. He looked at the chair across to him. Aashni, she had come today. One of these days, I’m going to tell you how I feel about you. He knew he wouldn’t. She was out of his league. A member of the choreography team, a basketball player and one of the brightest students in the class. She didn’t even notice him when he used to pass the occasional smiles to her. As if he didn’t even exist. But he didn’t mind that. All he knew was, that there is a girl, whom he loved.
‘Vaibhav!’ The professor spoke for the third time, irritated.
He came out of the world of his dreams and responded, ‘Present Sir.’
The professor moved on to the next name. Barely giving an acknowledgement. The students followed the professor out of the class after the roll call. There was still some time before the next class. He waited for Aashni to leave. After she disappeared beyond the door, he got up, picked his bag and left. Some of his friends were chatting outside the classroom. They were talking about the upcoming fest and the new theme. The organising team member amongst them was recounting the story of how his teammates agreed upon the idea after three hours of debating and argument.
‘But playing cards? How much can you innovate with them?’ He argued.
Nobody seemed to listen to him. They went on with their conversation. Why? He didn’t get it. Every time he spoke something, most people behaved that he didn’t even exist. Why can’t you all be a little more respectful and give the words of another person a little thought before continuing with your mind-numbing thoughts.
‘My dad has a deck so old that all its hearts have had bypasses by now,’ a friend tried to pull off a joke.
Everyone laughed. Most people didn’t understand it, but it wouldn’t be very wise to keep a straight face when everyone else was laughing. He laughed too. I wish I could walk away, but it would be rude to walk away. He wouldn’t dare to walk out of the chat everyone was having. Being a part of everyone was all he had. It was time for the class again. No one seemed interested. He knew, they were going to go in the class 5 minutes late. No reason. People just thought it was “cooler” like that. Aashni moved in. He went in after her. Someone looked at the spot he had been standing a moment ago, then joined back into the conversation. It was nothing which required too much attention.
After another hour of a fatal lecture, he started moving to the mess. Along the way he thought why he was there. Everyday the same question bothered him. He was not learning much in those classes and he did not excel in anything else. The world belonged to people who excelled. He was not an achiever. Then why was he put on the planet. What purpose did he serve apart from being a waste to his parents’ hard earned money. Everything he had learnt till date was of no use in the real world. He was reaching nowhere. Well, I’ve reached the mess. Irony always ruled a part of his mind. He glanced at the thing which was being served in the name of food. He moved to the canteen which had dared to operate right next to the mess. Initially everyone was sceptical if a private canteen right next to the mess was a profitable idea. But the dealer was a good businessman. He had seen the condition of the mess and knew he’d get more business there than anywhere else. His business had grown beyond its capacity. Mismanagement and misplacing of orders were nothing new there. He ordered for his usual. After 30 minutes of waiting, he didn’t get anything. He moved to the kitchen where another boy was already complaining.
‘Wait dada, your order is next on the line. It’s a busy day today.’
It’s a busy day for me too you pest. He didn’t give a thought to what kept him busy. He laid down a 20 rupee note and took two packets of chips from the shop. He made way for his room, thinking about the last phonecall conversation with his dad.
‘Apple?’
‘Yes.’
‘Glucose?’
‘Yes.’
‘How many glasses?’
Two. ‘Three.’
‘Why do you do this Vaibhav? If you don’t take care of your health then how will you put the effort in studying? Don’t do this.’
Silence.
‘Had a bath today?’
‘Yes.’
‘Yesterday?’
Truth or yes. ‘No.’
‘Won’t you listen to anything we say?’
Silence.
‘Keep a chart on your wall, of the list of things you have to do every day.’
‘Yes.’
‘Yes. And study well and keep good care of your health.’
And shouldn’t I keep my head clean of garbage? I’ve heard this a hundred times dad! ‘Yes.’
‘And listen to some wise men’s words. I have couriered you the Geeta. One page a day. It’ll keep your mind off the filth. And today Sri Sri Ravi…’
He didn’t remember everything about the conversation. Even though it was the same thing day after day for the last two years, after a point he just became uninterested and kept the phone after he heard the final ‘Okay’ from his dad. Life did not have much meaning.
He looked at his phone again. His family were the only people who contacted him through that phone. I really have no other friends. Of course, there were people who lived near his room. They came every time India won a match to collect money for crackers. He knew they spent most of it on alcohol. He never participated in the drinking sessions, but he paid every time. Everyone else does too.
It thundered. It was going to rain. Winds were slowly brushing his hair, prompting him to get to his room before they turned violent. He reached his room, thinking if he should follow the plan he was thinking of for such a long time. The fan invited him every time he looked at it. He had already bought the rope but slept every night just staring at it. He knew he couldn’t gather the courage to actually do it. He opened the door.
Wind rushed into the room as soon as the door opened.
The boy passing by the room did not notice the absurdity at first. He came back and looked at the room with a shock of disbelief. He had seen the view before, but only on the television. He closed his eyes and screamed at louder than he had ever before. A small crowd gathered around. Someone ran off to inform the warden. Some people got inside the room and brought the body down. Someone saw a little note under the clock. It didn’t make much sense. ‘Even I feel the same way,’ he thought. An atmosphere of shock and grief engulfed the hostel soon.
Oh dear! It was not a dream.
Oh dear! It was all just a dream. He woke up with a start, sweating.
He didn’t have the time to lay more focus on the dream. It was already 8:20 am. Class began in 10 minutes. He had to rush lest he be thrown out of class again. He quickly picked up his bag, gave a thoughtful look to the toothbrush and ran out of the room. He never noticed the note pressed below the clock.
It was another usual day. He cycled past innumerable faces which he saw every day. They never cared to give him a glance. Everyone is so self-engulfed here. He reached the classroom. The professor had already started distributing sleeping pills. He quietly went to sit in his usual chair. The professor didn’t seem to care. He must be used to it by now. He looked at the chair across to him. Aashni, she had come today. One of these days, I’m going to tell you how I feel about you. He knew he wouldn’t. She was out of his league. A member of the choreography team, a basketball player and one of the brightest students in the class. She didn’t even notice him when he used to pass the occasional smiles to her. As if he didn’t even exist. But he didn’t mind that. All he knew was, that there is a girl, whom he loved.
‘Vaibhav!’ The professor spoke for the third time, irritated.
He came out of the world of his dreams and responded, ‘Present Sir.’
The professor moved on to the next name. Barely giving an acknowledgement. The students followed the professor out of the class after the roll call. There was still some time before the next class. He waited for Aashni to leave. After she disappeared beyond the door, he got up, picked his bag and left. Some of his friends were chatting outside the classroom. They were talking about the upcoming fest and the new theme. The organising team member amongst them was recounting the story of how his teammates agreed upon the idea after three hours of debating and argument.
‘But playing cards? How much can you innovate with them?’ He argued.
Nobody seemed to listen to him. They went on with their conversation. Why? He didn’t get it. Every time he spoke something, most people behaved that he didn’t even exist. Why can’t you all be a little more respectful and give the words of another person a little thought before continuing with your mind-numbing thoughts.
‘My dad has a deck so old that all its hearts have had bypasses by now,’ a friend tried to pull off a joke.
Everyone laughed. Most people didn’t understand it, but it wouldn’t be very wise to keep a straight face when everyone else was laughing. He laughed too. I wish I could walk away, but it would be rude to walk away. He wouldn’t dare to walk out of the chat everyone was having. Being a part of everyone was all he had. It was time for the class again. No one seemed interested. He knew, they were going to go in the class 5 minutes late. No reason. People just thought it was “cooler” like that. Aashni moved in. He went in after her. Someone looked at the spot he had been standing a moment ago, then joined back into the conversation. It was nothing which required too much attention.
After another hour of a fatal lecture, he started moving to the mess. Along the way he thought why he was there. Everyday the same question bothered him. He was not learning much in those classes and he did not excel in anything else. The world belonged to people who excelled. He was not an achiever. Then why was he put on the planet. What purpose did he serve apart from being a waste to his parents’ hard earned money. Everything he had learnt till date was of no use in the real world. He was reaching nowhere. Well, I’ve reached the mess. Irony always ruled a part of his mind. He glanced at the thing which was being served in the name of food. He moved to the canteen which had dared to operate right next to the mess. Initially everyone was sceptical if a private canteen right next to the mess was a profitable idea. But the dealer was a good businessman. He had seen the condition of the mess and knew he’d get more business there than anywhere else. His business had grown beyond its capacity. Mismanagement and misplacing of orders were nothing new there. He ordered for his usual. After 30 minutes of waiting, he didn’t get anything. He moved to the kitchen where another boy was already complaining.
‘Wait dada, your order is next on the line. It’s a busy day today.’
It’s a busy day for me too you pest. He didn’t give a thought to what kept him busy. He laid down a 20 rupee note and took two packets of chips from the shop. He made way for his room, thinking about the last phonecall conversation with his dad.
‘Apple?’
‘Yes.’
‘Glucose?’
‘Yes.’
‘How many glasses?’
Two. ‘Three.’
‘Why do you do this Vaibhav? If you don’t take care of your health then how will you put the effort in studying? Don’t do this.’
Silence.
‘Had a bath today?’
‘Yes.’
‘Yesterday?’
Truth or yes. ‘No.’
‘Won’t you listen to anything we say?’
Silence.
‘Keep a chart on your wall, of the list of things you have to do every day.’
‘Yes.’
‘Yes. And study well and keep good care of your health.’
And shouldn’t I keep my head clean of garbage? I’ve heard this a hundred times dad! ‘Yes.’
‘And listen to some wise men’s words. I have couriered you the Geeta. One page a day. It’ll keep your mind off the filth. And today Sri Sri Ravi…’
He didn’t remember everything about the conversation. Even though it was the same thing day after day for the last two years, after a point he just became uninterested and kept the phone after he heard the final ‘Okay’ from his dad. Life did not have much meaning.
He looked at his phone again. His family were the only people who contacted him through that phone. I really have no other friends. Of course, there were people who lived near his room. They came every time India won a match to collect money for crackers. He knew they spent most of it on alcohol. He never participated in the drinking sessions, but he paid every time. Everyone else does too.
It thundered. It was going to rain. Winds were slowly brushing his hair, prompting him to get to his room before they turned violent. He reached his room, thinking if he should follow the plan he was thinking of for such a long time. The fan invited him every time he looked at it. He had already bought the rope but slept every night just staring at it. He knew he couldn’t gather the courage to actually do it. He opened the door.
Wind rushed into the room as soon as the door opened.
The boy passing by the room did not notice the absurdity at first. He came back and looked at the room with a shock of disbelief. He had seen the view before, but only on the television. He closed his eyes and screamed at louder than he had ever before. A small crowd gathered around. Someone ran off to inform the warden. Some people got inside the room and brought the body down. Someone saw a little note under the clock. It didn’t make much sense. ‘Even I feel the same way,’ he thought. An atmosphere of shock and grief engulfed the hostel soon.
Oh dear! It was not a dream.
Short Story 2013 Shortlist, Diksha Goyal
Crossroads
“Sarita, are you getting any sleep now?” asked Dr Richa, a PHC-trainee, fervently to her last patient of the day.
“No madam ji. Not enough really.” replied Sarita looking sheepishly at the prescription given to her by Richa last week, “these medicines seem to have absolutely no effect on me”.
“Have you been taking them properly?” asked a surprised Richa.
“I-- yes...no...”
“Calm down Sarita. Tell me, what is troubling you?” Richa asked sympathetically as she put her hand on Sarita’s back to calm her down.
Sarita, an emotionally wrecked widow, seeking some solace in the doctor and looking out for some sympathy and love just couldn’t hold back her tears any longer. She broke down immediately and began with her story.
Sarita was from a poor background and was married off at an early age to Ravi, a daily wage labourer, who managed to earn enough only to provide themselves with a two-square-meal. Life was just fine. Like a typical Indian wife, even in her state of “Aamdani Atthani Kharcha Rupaiya”, the barely-there position, she loved her husband and tried to keep happy in whatever little money brought in the house.
Soon after, they had a daughter, Varsha.
The couple was highly disappointed on finding out that it was a girl. But unlike others from their background, they didn’t kill her, rather blamed it all on Karma.
They decided to “raise” her.
Things were going just fine when Ravi, along with many other civilians was fired upon by ten gunmen at CST Main Station on 26/11. He was admitted to the nearest hospital by the locals and was undergoing regular treatment.
Sarita was all alone in this crisis. His medication had proved to be too much for the poor house wife who put in all her savings and even rented out their house and thus managed to save Ravi’s life who, unfortunately, was left crippled for life.
Varsha was a cheerful girl with a beautiful smile. But, being a girl born into a family where raising a “girl child” was considered a sheer waste of resources, she was forced into all the household chores and look after her father.
So Varsha never really got her share of parental love every child, irrespective of the gender, truly deserves. She always talked about going to school. More so, when a financially restrained Sarita joined a girls’ school as a helper in the kitchen for the mid day meals. Varsha dreamt of becoming a doctor some day. But she was laughed off at and even scolded by her parents for even daring to think of all the “fancy stuff”. Sticking to their old and obnoxious superstitious beliefs, they didn’t send her to school, rather worried over saving money for her marriage. They cursed their sore luck for having a single girl child!
The testing times of the family had not ended as yet. Ravi fell ill once again. This time he was diagnosed with leukaemia. Sarita’s meagre income was barely enough to support the family properly. She didn’t have any money to pay for the expensive treatment bills and for the medicines.
But she had to arrange for some money urgently to save Ravi’s life.
One day, a man in his thirties and with a convincing & empathetic smile came to their house. He introduced himself as Rohit, a representative of PRAYAS Agency, an NGO working for the welfare of poor children. He told them that they took children with them, sent them to schools, fed them and took great care of them. They even provided them with jobs so that they could save some money and send it to their families. He told them that PRAYAS Agency received financial support from people across the globe and hence they are able take up and carry on with the noble cause of educating & helping out poor children for free. He also told her that the agency would give some money in advance as well to the family as a part of their taking a noble step towards a better future for their children.
Sarita was initially reluctant but when she learnt that many neighbourhood families had agreed to send their children, she readily agreed to send Varsha with the agency too. The poor woman tried to reduce her responsibilities by taking all from one. Besides, she needed the money desperately to save her husband’s life!
So Varsha was sent along with a few other neighbourhood children to Mumbai.
There was no news from the agency about the children for almost an year now. Meanwhile, a lot had happened. Ravi could not be saved. He passed away leaving Sarita as a lonely, childless widow. She missed Varsha and wanted her back.
Sarita had occasionally called on the number provided by the agency people. Initially, they responded well. But later, they started making excuses and avoiding her calls. She was worried about Varsha.
She had nobody to go to help, no shoulder to cry on. All the smiling faces of the girls in the school where she worked reminded her of her own Varsha. She felt miserable and was in great distress. She then befriended Insomnia.
With this, Sarita broke down inconsolably. Richa was left numb by the misery of the poor woman. She was taken back to her own childhood & was reminded of her own past. She calmed down Sarita and talked her heart out.
“Calm down Sarita. Girls are a precious gift of God. They are a boon and not a bane to the family they are born into. No offense Sarita, but what you did to Varsha wasn’t right. So what if she was a girl? You treated her like some burden you were forced to bear. Now that you are all alone, you want her back in your life.”
“You know what? Let me tell you a story. Years ago, there lived a girl who dreamt of being a doctor. She had no father and her mother was the bread winner in the family. As she turned 18, there was a lot of social pressure on her mother to get her married off. But her mother was strong. She lived for her daughter. She was determined to help realize her daughter’s dream. She went against all odds.
Today, that girl is a doctor and all her proud of her. That girl was none other than me, Sarita!
Only because my mother supported me all the way and understood how important it is for one to be educated nowadays, irrespective of the gender, I’ve reached this far in my life. I owe it all to my mother. It was once an eyesore for my relatives to see me studying when I should have been busy washing clothes and utensils. But the same relatives give my example to their children when they see me live my dream. Varsha needed you. You yourself are a woman Sarita, you shouldn’t have taken this step.”
Regretting now, Sarita listened to all this with shame. She felt sorry for mistreating her daughter and desperately wanted her back.
“Please help me, doctor ji, please! I’ve realized my mistake. I now promise to live for her. I will give her all the love she truly deserves. Had I knew this, I wouldn’t have...Please help me bring my Varsha back doctor ji, please!” pleaded Sarita helplessly.
“Yes Sarita, I’ll try and figure out. Give me a day. Just calm down and come back tomorrow with the agency’s business card. I shall make a call.” Replied Richa.
Later That night, Richa almost choked on phone while telling about Sarita to her fiancé Sameer who calmed her down.
Taking charge of the sensitive situation, he said, “There are around 44 million missing women in India. Gender bias, neglect of girls, infanticides & feticides are responsible for all of this and for the significant fall in sex ratio here. Every year millions of children in India are taken into evil hands and all we do is read about them in papers and watch the masala mixed documentaries on news channels.
We have saved some money for our big fat Indian wedding. All that’s going to happen is people wasting food and we will end up getting bored on the stage being starred by a lot of guests. Don’t you think we should rather invest it for a noble cause? We have our chance to make a difference. What say girl?”
Richa was delighted to hear this. “I love you Sameer!” she exclaimed with joy.
Richa called up the PRAYAS Agency next day and after few minutes of pleading, shouting and finally blackmailing, she managed to get hold of Varsha’s whereabouts.
“Hello?” an old woman answered the phone call as Richa dialled the number provided to her by the agency where, as Richa was shocked to know, Varsha was made to work as a domestic servant.
Richa briefed herself to the old woman and explained the scenario to her. She seemed to understand the situation and freely shared all the information about Varsha.
“Oh she’s become very weak since she’s come here. Poor child! Hardly eats anything and keeps crying all the time.” exclaimed the old woman.
“Hm, I understand Doctor, don’t worry. Yes, you can take her with you. Poor children are not meant to serve. Thank you for opening my eyes” Said the old woman sympathetically as she gave Richa her address.
“And here, you can talk to her also.” The old lady handed over the phone to Varsha.
“Varsha?” asked Sarita as she almost choked with tears on phone.
“Ma?” came a meek, restrained voice from the other side.
“Beti, I miss you! Please forgive your mother and come back home beti. I love you, Varsha. I am sorry for what I did to you, but now I want to live your dream together.” Said Sarita as she broke down on phone.
“Ma, I miss you too. Please take me home with you.”
“I will, Varsha, I will. I’m coming to take you with me very soon. I’m coming for you.”
Sarita took the next train to Mumbai and brought back Varsha with her. She was overjoyed to have her back. She took Varsha to the clinic to meet Richa and thank the doctor for helping her unite with her daughter. Besides, she was wary about the presence of stitches on Varsha’s back and suspected something fishy.
Richa was astonished to see the stitch marks on the lower lateral side of Varsha’s back and on further examination discovered that one of Varsha’s kidneys was missing. She broke the news to Sarita who was dumbfounded.
“So this is what those @#$%^% agency did to my Varsha! Those bastards! They fooled me! I will never be able to forgive myself for sending my Varsha with them!” roared Sarita furiously.
“Will Varsha survive, doctor ji?”
“I’m sorry to say this Sarita. Her other kidney is also not functioning properly. She’s not doing well at all. She needs to have a kidney transplant at the earliest”
Sarita couldn’t believe her ears. There was no way she could afford a kidney transplant. She didn’t have enough savings. And her income wasn’t enough for the expensive transplant.
She blamed it all on Karma again and silently accepted the fact that Varsha wasn’t going to live for long.
Richa was aware of Sarita’s financial status and knew that it was impossible for Sarita to arrange for this huge sum for the transplant. Besides, Sarita had still not recovered from the shock of this piece of news and was unable to even think of anything.
She looked at Varsha who was gazing silently at the wall and seemed fascinated by the various colourful flex charts hanging on it. Richa could relate her own childhood to Varsha’s. She took Varsha’s hands in hers and asked, “What do want to become when you grow up Varsha?”
“ I want to become a doctor, just like you.” replied Varsha weakly but with a sudden sparkling in her eyes so enigmatic that Richa was filled with an urge to help Varsha out and save her life.
She asked Sarita to bring Varsha to the city hospital next day.
“I’m proud of you, Richa.” Sameer supported the noble cause Richa had taken up.
Richa had decided to spend her savings on Varsha’s kidney transplantation. She doesn’t mind the simple marriage but the satisfaction of saving life and relations would be over and above the weird feel of watching silk draped aunties enjoying chaat.
Thus, an open minded couple donated all their savings.
“Let this be the last time we see tears in Sarita’s eyes” said Sameer affectionately as he hugged Richa tightly, “Had it not been for you, we would never have earned this once in a lifetime opportunity.” And he kissed Richa on her forehead.
Luckily, Richa managed to find a suitable kidney donor for Varsha and her kidney was successfully transplanted. After the transplant, Sarita thanked Richa and promised her that she will not only educate Varsha but also support her all the way to help her realize her dream.
Before departing, Sarita took out a small “Cross” shaped silver pendant from her purse and handed it over to Richa and said, “Keep it with you Doctor ji. This cross shape is a symbol of you crossing our path of life as a guardian angel and helping us out in our times of misery. You not only taught me the value of daughters but you also set up an example for many other girls out there. You even saved my Varsha’s life! You’ve given me a reason to live, a reason to survive now. Please accept it and keep it with you as our gesture for your love and kindness. I don’t have much to give you. So all my blessings go out for you doctor ji”
Two years later...
Richa’s encounter with Sarita had had a huge impact on her life. The event was so inspiring that Richa and Sameer ended up starting their own NGO and worked zealously for girl child awareness and education and also against child trafficking for inhuman acts. They set up successful awareness camps in various villages and educated people about the same.
Both Sameer & Richa were proud to have a baby girl after their marriage.
“So what are we going to name her?” asked the proud father as he held the tiny hands of her daughter in amazement.
Richa looked at the cross pendant she’d been wearing for almost two years now and immediately knew what name she’d give to her daughter.
“Varsha.”
“Sarita, are you getting any sleep now?” asked Dr Richa, a PHC-trainee, fervently to her last patient of the day.
“No madam ji. Not enough really.” replied Sarita looking sheepishly at the prescription given to her by Richa last week, “these medicines seem to have absolutely no effect on me”.
“Have you been taking them properly?” asked a surprised Richa.
“I-- yes...no...”
“Calm down Sarita. Tell me, what is troubling you?” Richa asked sympathetically as she put her hand on Sarita’s back to calm her down.
Sarita, an emotionally wrecked widow, seeking some solace in the doctor and looking out for some sympathy and love just couldn’t hold back her tears any longer. She broke down immediately and began with her story.
Sarita was from a poor background and was married off at an early age to Ravi, a daily wage labourer, who managed to earn enough only to provide themselves with a two-square-meal. Life was just fine. Like a typical Indian wife, even in her state of “Aamdani Atthani Kharcha Rupaiya”, the barely-there position, she loved her husband and tried to keep happy in whatever little money brought in the house.
Soon after, they had a daughter, Varsha.
The couple was highly disappointed on finding out that it was a girl. But unlike others from their background, they didn’t kill her, rather blamed it all on Karma.
They decided to “raise” her.
Things were going just fine when Ravi, along with many other civilians was fired upon by ten gunmen at CST Main Station on 26/11. He was admitted to the nearest hospital by the locals and was undergoing regular treatment.
Sarita was all alone in this crisis. His medication had proved to be too much for the poor house wife who put in all her savings and even rented out their house and thus managed to save Ravi’s life who, unfortunately, was left crippled for life.
Varsha was a cheerful girl with a beautiful smile. But, being a girl born into a family where raising a “girl child” was considered a sheer waste of resources, she was forced into all the household chores and look after her father.
So Varsha never really got her share of parental love every child, irrespective of the gender, truly deserves. She always talked about going to school. More so, when a financially restrained Sarita joined a girls’ school as a helper in the kitchen for the mid day meals. Varsha dreamt of becoming a doctor some day. But she was laughed off at and even scolded by her parents for even daring to think of all the “fancy stuff”. Sticking to their old and obnoxious superstitious beliefs, they didn’t send her to school, rather worried over saving money for her marriage. They cursed their sore luck for having a single girl child!
The testing times of the family had not ended as yet. Ravi fell ill once again. This time he was diagnosed with leukaemia. Sarita’s meagre income was barely enough to support the family properly. She didn’t have any money to pay for the expensive treatment bills and for the medicines.
But she had to arrange for some money urgently to save Ravi’s life.
One day, a man in his thirties and with a convincing & empathetic smile came to their house. He introduced himself as Rohit, a representative of PRAYAS Agency, an NGO working for the welfare of poor children. He told them that they took children with them, sent them to schools, fed them and took great care of them. They even provided them with jobs so that they could save some money and send it to their families. He told them that PRAYAS Agency received financial support from people across the globe and hence they are able take up and carry on with the noble cause of educating & helping out poor children for free. He also told her that the agency would give some money in advance as well to the family as a part of their taking a noble step towards a better future for their children.
Sarita was initially reluctant but when she learnt that many neighbourhood families had agreed to send their children, she readily agreed to send Varsha with the agency too. The poor woman tried to reduce her responsibilities by taking all from one. Besides, she needed the money desperately to save her husband’s life!
So Varsha was sent along with a few other neighbourhood children to Mumbai.
There was no news from the agency about the children for almost an year now. Meanwhile, a lot had happened. Ravi could not be saved. He passed away leaving Sarita as a lonely, childless widow. She missed Varsha and wanted her back.
Sarita had occasionally called on the number provided by the agency people. Initially, they responded well. But later, they started making excuses and avoiding her calls. She was worried about Varsha.
She had nobody to go to help, no shoulder to cry on. All the smiling faces of the girls in the school where she worked reminded her of her own Varsha. She felt miserable and was in great distress. She then befriended Insomnia.
With this, Sarita broke down inconsolably. Richa was left numb by the misery of the poor woman. She was taken back to her own childhood & was reminded of her own past. She calmed down Sarita and talked her heart out.
“Calm down Sarita. Girls are a precious gift of God. They are a boon and not a bane to the family they are born into. No offense Sarita, but what you did to Varsha wasn’t right. So what if she was a girl? You treated her like some burden you were forced to bear. Now that you are all alone, you want her back in your life.”
“You know what? Let me tell you a story. Years ago, there lived a girl who dreamt of being a doctor. She had no father and her mother was the bread winner in the family. As she turned 18, there was a lot of social pressure on her mother to get her married off. But her mother was strong. She lived for her daughter. She was determined to help realize her daughter’s dream. She went against all odds.
Today, that girl is a doctor and all her proud of her. That girl was none other than me, Sarita!
Only because my mother supported me all the way and understood how important it is for one to be educated nowadays, irrespective of the gender, I’ve reached this far in my life. I owe it all to my mother. It was once an eyesore for my relatives to see me studying when I should have been busy washing clothes and utensils. But the same relatives give my example to their children when they see me live my dream. Varsha needed you. You yourself are a woman Sarita, you shouldn’t have taken this step.”
Regretting now, Sarita listened to all this with shame. She felt sorry for mistreating her daughter and desperately wanted her back.
“Please help me, doctor ji, please! I’ve realized my mistake. I now promise to live for her. I will give her all the love she truly deserves. Had I knew this, I wouldn’t have...Please help me bring my Varsha back doctor ji, please!” pleaded Sarita helplessly.
“Yes Sarita, I’ll try and figure out. Give me a day. Just calm down and come back tomorrow with the agency’s business card. I shall make a call.” Replied Richa.
Later That night, Richa almost choked on phone while telling about Sarita to her fiancé Sameer who calmed her down.
Taking charge of the sensitive situation, he said, “There are around 44 million missing women in India. Gender bias, neglect of girls, infanticides & feticides are responsible for all of this and for the significant fall in sex ratio here. Every year millions of children in India are taken into evil hands and all we do is read about them in papers and watch the masala mixed documentaries on news channels.
We have saved some money for our big fat Indian wedding. All that’s going to happen is people wasting food and we will end up getting bored on the stage being starred by a lot of guests. Don’t you think we should rather invest it for a noble cause? We have our chance to make a difference. What say girl?”
Richa was delighted to hear this. “I love you Sameer!” she exclaimed with joy.
Richa called up the PRAYAS Agency next day and after few minutes of pleading, shouting and finally blackmailing, she managed to get hold of Varsha’s whereabouts.
“Hello?” an old woman answered the phone call as Richa dialled the number provided to her by the agency where, as Richa was shocked to know, Varsha was made to work as a domestic servant.
Richa briefed herself to the old woman and explained the scenario to her. She seemed to understand the situation and freely shared all the information about Varsha.
“Oh she’s become very weak since she’s come here. Poor child! Hardly eats anything and keeps crying all the time.” exclaimed the old woman.
“Hm, I understand Doctor, don’t worry. Yes, you can take her with you. Poor children are not meant to serve. Thank you for opening my eyes” Said the old woman sympathetically as she gave Richa her address.
“And here, you can talk to her also.” The old lady handed over the phone to Varsha.
“Varsha?” asked Sarita as she almost choked with tears on phone.
“Ma?” came a meek, restrained voice from the other side.
“Beti, I miss you! Please forgive your mother and come back home beti. I love you, Varsha. I am sorry for what I did to you, but now I want to live your dream together.” Said Sarita as she broke down on phone.
“Ma, I miss you too. Please take me home with you.”
“I will, Varsha, I will. I’m coming to take you with me very soon. I’m coming for you.”
Sarita took the next train to Mumbai and brought back Varsha with her. She was overjoyed to have her back. She took Varsha to the clinic to meet Richa and thank the doctor for helping her unite with her daughter. Besides, she was wary about the presence of stitches on Varsha’s back and suspected something fishy.
Richa was astonished to see the stitch marks on the lower lateral side of Varsha’s back and on further examination discovered that one of Varsha’s kidneys was missing. She broke the news to Sarita who was dumbfounded.
“So this is what those @#$%^% agency did to my Varsha! Those bastards! They fooled me! I will never be able to forgive myself for sending my Varsha with them!” roared Sarita furiously.
“Will Varsha survive, doctor ji?”
“I’m sorry to say this Sarita. Her other kidney is also not functioning properly. She’s not doing well at all. She needs to have a kidney transplant at the earliest”
Sarita couldn’t believe her ears. There was no way she could afford a kidney transplant. She didn’t have enough savings. And her income wasn’t enough for the expensive transplant.
She blamed it all on Karma again and silently accepted the fact that Varsha wasn’t going to live for long.
Richa was aware of Sarita’s financial status and knew that it was impossible for Sarita to arrange for this huge sum for the transplant. Besides, Sarita had still not recovered from the shock of this piece of news and was unable to even think of anything.
She looked at Varsha who was gazing silently at the wall and seemed fascinated by the various colourful flex charts hanging on it. Richa could relate her own childhood to Varsha’s. She took Varsha’s hands in hers and asked, “What do want to become when you grow up Varsha?”
“ I want to become a doctor, just like you.” replied Varsha weakly but with a sudden sparkling in her eyes so enigmatic that Richa was filled with an urge to help Varsha out and save her life.
She asked Sarita to bring Varsha to the city hospital next day.
“I’m proud of you, Richa.” Sameer supported the noble cause Richa had taken up.
Richa had decided to spend her savings on Varsha’s kidney transplantation. She doesn’t mind the simple marriage but the satisfaction of saving life and relations would be over and above the weird feel of watching silk draped aunties enjoying chaat.
Thus, an open minded couple donated all their savings.
“Let this be the last time we see tears in Sarita’s eyes” said Sameer affectionately as he hugged Richa tightly, “Had it not been for you, we would never have earned this once in a lifetime opportunity.” And he kissed Richa on her forehead.
Luckily, Richa managed to find a suitable kidney donor for Varsha and her kidney was successfully transplanted. After the transplant, Sarita thanked Richa and promised her that she will not only educate Varsha but also support her all the way to help her realize her dream.
Before departing, Sarita took out a small “Cross” shaped silver pendant from her purse and handed it over to Richa and said, “Keep it with you Doctor ji. This cross shape is a symbol of you crossing our path of life as a guardian angel and helping us out in our times of misery. You not only taught me the value of daughters but you also set up an example for many other girls out there. You even saved my Varsha’s life! You’ve given me a reason to live, a reason to survive now. Please accept it and keep it with you as our gesture for your love and kindness. I don’t have much to give you. So all my blessings go out for you doctor ji”
Two years later...
Richa’s encounter with Sarita had had a huge impact on her life. The event was so inspiring that Richa and Sameer ended up starting their own NGO and worked zealously for girl child awareness and education and also against child trafficking for inhuman acts. They set up successful awareness camps in various villages and educated people about the same.
Both Sameer & Richa were proud to have a baby girl after their marriage.
“So what are we going to name her?” asked the proud father as he held the tiny hands of her daughter in amazement.
Richa looked at the cross pendant she’d been wearing for almost two years now and immediately knew what name she’d give to her daughter.
“Varsha.”
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