Courage!

Last Saturday morning, his parents took him to the first formal interview of his life.
For those who do not know,in India,little girls and boys are interviewed for basic English and math abilities before they can be admitted to nurseries in schools.
For a whole week, he was made to recite nursery rhymes,practice writing numbers and revise the alphabets.
Smart as he is, he finished all this in no time,  then ran off to fight his imaginary adversary with a 'ninja-sword' (he even goes to sleep with a plastic rod tucked behind him,inside his shirt) combined with his ingenious 'Milja (ninja) technique'.
My little four year old friend, had topped the tests and mock interviews at his prep school. Confident he will do well in the real one, his parents dressed him and marched him to the Principal's office on a Saturday.
The Principal - a respectable grey stern gentleman, looked through his glasses, and asked ' Whats your name?'
The deep voice emanating from such a grim face could unnerve any grown-up.
But sure enough, that was  no challenge to my brave young boy-friend, for he stamped his right foot forward, as if to crush a gnat, narrowed his eyes, looked straight at the man, drew out his imaginary sword and declared in his gravest tone, 'I am Milja Hattori,beware of my sword !'




He was admitted anyway. He is about to start classes from spring.

Never Rich ,nor poor (Series name:Already I'm ....cry)

From another grey city,I pulled out an old book,turned to a chapter,whose memory fades each day.The pages are now musty.Are the impressions still alive?

We stood under the dim blue street lamp,you had bought me an ice cream from the remnants of your wallet.Kwality-Walls Cornetto,my favourite at the time.
You loved the left over biscuit cone,with little ice cream sticking to it.The heat radiating from the asphalt road,quickly melted my scoop.

I looked at the girl and the boy sitting inside an air-conditioned cafe, and sighed.Some day,we will afford cafe dates too,we dreamt.
So what else can jobless lovers do?Buy visitor's passes at the city airport's departure lounge.
Spend hours together inside an a.c facility,unintentionally see off thousands and thousands of unknown witnesses to different cities around the globe.

After that evening,we had not met for a month.

When we finally did,you handed me fifteen hundred rupees.A handsome amount in those days.The first money you had ever earned.

I don't remember what that first job was,but it was part time.For which,you had to sneak out every day,hiding from all who disapproved,travel quite a distance,stay on till late.And I remember you were just twenty.

New insights

Some people are happy with themselves.Happy with their mediocrity,content with their capabilities which are far outweighed by their limitations.Happy with their orientation,both social and professional.There is only so much you can push them.Hoping they will ever compete to win - is a waste of your own time.

Often such people show delusions of grandeur.When congratulated by another of their clan,their minds extend the applaud,as resounding from the whole world.Where is the need to do better,to question one's performance,when one is so sure of oneself?
When they are confronted with quality better than themselves,they attribute extrinsic factors to such greater successes.
For example,when a mediocre sweeper comes across a superior one ,he may attribute the superiority to the colleague's wife,who,he argues,creates a more peaceful household than his own.Or to the children ,who create lesser trouble than his own.Or to a happier childhood.Or to a better car than his own!Could be any reason,but one which falls outside the persona.

But middling,has its own positives.Such people live happier,longer,more satisfied with life's simple pleasures,of perhaps a football match on television,or an invitation at a neighbors.They are susceptible to far lower conspiracies.They have much lesser finances to manage by the time they are old.They usually brush off their own difficulties as they do to others,they usually teach lower mastery goal orientation to their children.Their philosophy is simple 'when you cant do it,just find an excuse outside your self'.
They have far lesser expectations from life.They are jealous of almost nothing,perhaps the only rare exception can be the man their wife is 'too friendly' with.There too, their jealousy will not cause greater damage than frequent grumbling.Plus they have great many number of friends.In a word such people are benign.Such people have fewer conflicts and lower frustrations to deal with.
Is this,then, the secret road to happiness ?

(series name - Already I'm so lonesome I could cry) - The Rains

We walked in the rain ,without a coat ,without an umbrella. We walked in the rain,on the roads,laughing,talking about everything else but the weather.
We walked as if it were bright sunshine.
The soggy clothes didn't matter.The slippery ground didn't matter.
When the buses ,the cars passed us by,spraying us many times over with dirty gray puddle,it did not matter.
The idea of catching a cold never occurred.We loved rains,at all times.
That was long ago.

Years later,we could afford a car.Once B drove us into an unusually rainy evening,when the windshield ,the windows,the rear view were all cut off by a thick screen of silver white.It was raining outside,but we were dry.
The car was parked on the side of the road.Visibility was poor.We felt stranded,worried.We wished the rain would stop.The car was quiet,except for the sound of raindrops on the metal roof.

Subtle impressions are lost in this city,either when you grow older or when you step outside your house into the daily struggles.

The frog and the raven (Series :Already I'm so lonesome I could cry)

I am fond of surprises - of giving and of receiving them.Gifts on special occasions are a norm - what's so surprising about those?
I had picked an ordinary day in April.

A Hot Evening In April
------------------------
At the time,we were both (Me and B) university students.The faculty of Engineering ran six hostels then.Four dreary ones for girls and two equally pathetic ones, for boys.
But our girls hostel had one respite,a nice garden in front of the house.Summer evenings were spent walking and chatting here.
On such a day ,me and two of my other class mates sat on a ledge in the garden when suddenly I felt a blob fall on my feet...
Instantly I gave a cry and the other two, a start...Goodness,it was a frog!

The Idea
-----------
'A frog's too tiny to fit all three of us into its tummy,now relax' ,I instructed all three,sternly.
Whatever is said about 'a moment's great inspiration' was true,I had had one right then.If only a box could be found!

The Gift
-----------
A box?Easily done.
Quickly,a friend hurried in and emerged from the hostel,proudly waving a nice ,strong medium sized one.

Surprise
------------
B was handed over a lovely bright wrapped box ,and a bag of sweets.I waved him goodnight and walked back into my hostel.

When he entered his hostel room with a colourful big thing in hand,he aroused some curiosity,plus the bag of sweets was enough to gather friends around the gifts.
One of them offered his Swiss-blade.They opened the box,the flap and out leapt the frog!

Though B never admits till date,I'm sure they all had a scare.
When he called me next morning,he didn't mention the box or its contents.He was willfully avoiding the topic - so I wouldn't feel victorious.
When I met him - we both kept a straight face- but I was bursting inside with laughter,picturing the frog jump straight onto them,and the boys struggling to get it out of their house.

A year and a half later
-------------------------
After the whole effort of planning and execution,the effect did seem like a bummer.The result was rather lukewarm.
A week later,when I asked him,how he had liked the gift ,he sounded bored and totally untouched by the event.He said -'o yes,it was a frog,nice plan'.
A year and much more had passed,with time,that incident had been tucked away in some remote corner of my memory.
One Sunday afternoon,B unexpectedly, came to see me at the girls hostel with a friend.Boys were not allowed inside,so they stood at the gate.
He held something behind him.When I walked up to the gate - they both smiled ,wished me a happy new year and handed me a large packet.

The Return Gift
----------------

I happily skipped back to my room.My friends too,couldn't wait to find out what that packet held,they gathered around me while I began to open it,and, as I unwrapped every layer of the colourful paper ,friends moved inches away,the packet was strangely smelly.

The Revenge
----------------

Not suspecting B of any foul play,especially on a new year day,I worked harder at opening the wrapping.Finally I ripped it open and we all peeped inside.
But,what is that?Is that a ......disgusting!!!
There lay a dead raven,rotting and covered with talcum powder..

Some of my friends had begun throwing up,some were making their way to the washroom...I quickly held the packet together,ran down the stairs and tossed it all over the wall into the bushes behind the campus.

It took five days before my room was rid of the nauseating smell..

(series name - Already I'm so lonesome I could cry) - Long ago me and B

We were once mistaken for twins.Yeah,that was original.
Our co-passengers on the train noticed how bitterly we were arguing over an article in the magazine,and must have decided - no dating couple is foolish enough to let precious stolen private eight hours of a train journey ,just pass away over some magazine news.
One of the boys sitting opposite,haltingly asked B - are u ....two...? B retorted - Are you..what? - an unusual spill-over of his classic annoyance from our fight.Generally he is very polite to strangers.
But he regained his cool,quickly and it turned out our co-passengers had a bet ,on whether we were a couple or just siblings.

Du belar montro (in Bengali)

Shey amakey boley,
tar amaye bhari proyojon.
Tai to ami nijer jotno kori.
Tai amar nityo proshadhon.
Tai ami ar borshatey bhiji na,
jodi brishtir jol hothat moron daakey!

(translated from Bertolt Brecht's 'To be read in the morning and at night')