Vacation Updates

It was rarest of the occasions. The three friends, Suresh, Mani and Dharma, were up before sunrise. They were heading towards the Sunrise point with great expectations. Lakshmi, the daughter of the owner of home-stay where they were staying, had strongly recommended it for its beauty, especially for the photographers. Mani, who had already extracted the expensive DSLR camera from its pouch, was shooting things left and right. Suresh also had his mobile phone out and shooting in the light of the torch. Although the photo quality was nowhere near the DSLR, Suresh was happy with his mobile camera because he could instantly upload the pictures to his Facebook for the world to see and comment. Mani had to wait till he could switch on his laptop back in the room. Suresh had thanked BSNL a million times already in this trip for providing 3G coverage in the nature's lap.

It was still very dark but navigation was easier as they had reached the motorable road. Suresh absent mindedly touched his head to adjust the cap, and realized that it had fallen down. Mani was already ten steps ahead while Dharma was lagging behind. Suresh turned around searching for the cap in the light of the torch. He had walked couple of minutes, turned around the bend on the road when he saw the cap lying on the road. Just as he bent to pick it up he heard the sound of a fast moving vehicle behind him. Suresh jumped from the road and narrowly missed the Maruti Omni which was hurtling on this hilly road. Ahead of him Suresh saw Dharma walking deep in thoughts. Suresh shouted loudly to warn Dharma of the approaching vehicle. The shout helped partially, for Dharma was alerted but his reaction was not quick enough. The car came to a screeching halt near him, just as Dharma tried to jump to miss the car, a couple of hands grabbed him and pulled him into the car. Suresh heard a stifled cry from the car. But before Suresh could do anything, the car had disappeared around the bend.

The shout had brought Mani in search of Suri. He had not seen any of the events and it took Suri complete 10 minutes to convince that Dharma was really abducted. For next hour they were sitting on a rock next to the road unable to think. Dharma was abducted. Why was he abducted? And who was behind the abduction?

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Suresh Patel, Illyas Dharamshi and Manikandan Kameswaran also known as Suri, Dharma and Mani were classmates. If they had been classmates today, they would have been known as '3 Idiots'. But 10 years ago, they were known as 'The SIMs'. They were inseparable. Yet, ten years later, fate had thrown them in 3 different cities. And in the last five, they had never met. A group chat leading to couple of nostalgic jokes and a vague suggestion led to planning of this trip, a deja-vu trip. It also helped that year was ending and they had some leaves to spend. They wanted to re-live the numerous treks and trips taken together as students. Dharma had suggested a 4 day trip, first 3 days in nature's retreat in the western ghat and then a day's visit to their college nearby, by the beach.

Suri was not enthused. He had read about the communal violence which had flared up in the region recently and thought the trip to be too risky, especially to Dharma who was from a Muslim Family. Dharma was insistent. His nickname, Dharma, could easily hide his real name and hence his religion. He would be safe. Suri had agreed reluctantly. The prospect of visiting the college had played a large role in persuading him.

The vacation was excellent, until the fateful morning. Suri flew in from Mumbai, Mani from Delhi and soon all three of them were on the bus to 'Kadu Mane', the house in the forest. It was a home stay, where the owner of the place stayed in the main house, while a couple of small yet comfortable cottages were built for tourist. Visitors could eat with the owner's family if they chose so and could experience the 'village life'. This particular ‘mane’ lived up to its name; it was a kilometer from the motorable road and was surrounded by thick forest. When they reached, Colonel Gundu Rao, the owner, personally welcomed them. He was an ex-serviceman, and true to his name, completely bald. He had a handle bar of a mustache and
strict demeanor even in the house. He ran the house like a platoon and even the visitors were part of it. The three friends experienced it first hand when they reached 15 minutes late for the dinner and were greeted with a long lecture about importance of punctuality. But the food was excellent and made up for the strange behavior of the Colonel.
The first 2 days went off well. The nature was at its best as well as the weather. But on the second evening, Dharma suddenly got ill with acidity, his companion from the college days. He slept off without having dinner and others were forced to face the Colonel who would surely take exception to their friend's absence. But none of the things happened. Colonel's daughter had arrived from Bangalore that very evening and she was quite friendly. The colonel still presided over the dinner, bored them with outspoken support of military action in Kashmir, and tried to convince them that killing all Muslims in India was the panacea to all the maladies India was facing. The daughter, Lakshmi, sensing the discomfort caused by her father’s comments, changed the topic. Soon they were discussing the places to be visited in neighborhood. It was then that she had suggested going to the sunrise point. Mani agreed, and the next day being the last, they decided to go very next morning. Dharma had fast recuperated and inspite of many objections, he accompanied his friends on the way to Sunrise point well before sunrise, early next day.

And then Dharma was abducted.

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As they thought over the past 2 days, Suri had got convinced that Dharma's religion had got known somehow. Suri knew now that it was Colonel who had abducted Dharma. He had made his views on the issue quite clear yesterday. It was his daughter who had lead them to go to the sunrise point, early in the morning. She was an accomplice. This meant that Dharma was in mortal danger. Or was he already dead?

They made up the mind to report it to nearest police station. It was already dawn, but reaching the town was not easy, especially if the Colonel was in the enemy camp. Suri decided to call somebody to find out the phone number of the nearest police station. He thanked BSNL again for the coverage in remote areas. He unlocked the phone and froze. His phone was showing the latest updates from Face book and the last update was from Madhu, Dharma's roommate, 'SIM’s job is done. Pack your bags and leave. DO NOT inform anybody. Payment is already done.'

They were now puzzled. What could this mean? Suri felt that Madhu was involved in the plot. Suri soon built up an elaborate conspiracy theory, involving Madhu and Lakshmi as lovers, Colonel as the instigator and Dharma as the poor victim. But Mani did not agree and called up Madhu.

The conversation convinced Mani that Madhu was as innocent and he was also as clueless as the two friends. He had acted on the instructions of Dharma given earlier in the week. He did not know why, as Dharma had refused to clarify. Madhu was almost sure that it had something to do with Sudha, the colleague Dharma was involved with for past 2 years. Things were not going well between the two, something related to her father's opposition. But he did not have the details. Madhu provided Mani with the phone number of a common friend, Komal, who would know more on this topic.

Suri and Mani were in deep thoughts. Mani finally decided that they should move fast, in order to safely vacate the guest house. It was nearly 7 when they quickly packed; they were surprised that Dharma's luggage was missing. They crossed the window of the main hall carefully afraid to attract attention, and once near the gate ran as fast as they could. Once at safe distance, they walked couple of bus stops before waiting for the bus to arrive. In the town, while eating breakfast Suri got anxious and could not hold his curiosity any more. He wanted to call Komal. Mani finally relented. It was 9 AM, a decent time to call even during the weekend. Thankfully Komal answered the phone and she was very anxious herself. She had been trying to reach Sudha since the last night and her cell phone was not reachable. Sudha's last twitter attempt was troublesome, 'Tomorrow I will be with Him, and I will be free.' Komal knew that she was planning something since 2 weeks, but did not know what. Now she was worried.

Mani soon learnt the background. Sudha had fallen in love with Illyas and both wanted to get married. Illyas' family had no issues with the religion of their daughter in law. But Sudha's father was a different case. He reacted extremely to the news, flew in rage, and locked up Sudha. She was held incommunicado for a fortnight and was finally allowed to return to Bangalore only when she promised never to meet Illyas again. In addition, she had given up all her privacy; her father could monitor all her emails, account statements. He had even hired a security agency to trail her and tap her phone. Any suspicious movement from Sudha, and she would loose her freedom. And so for last 6 months, she lived in virtual jail, always questioned about every thing by her father.

Her last twitter message indicated she was planning something to get rid of the imprisonment and marry Illyas. Komal was worried that writing this on twitter for the world to see was a dangerous move. If her father had got even a whiff of the plan, she would be locked up, and her life would be ruined.

Mani asked her about the alternatives? Komal had one, but she had not dared to do it. She had the land line number of Sudha's father's house. But she was too afraid to call. What if her worst fears were true? Mani noted down the number. Now both of them started discussing the plans. They had too many options, and making decision on this scant knowledge was not possible. Should they go back to Bangalore? What if Dharma was in trouble? What if Sudha's father came to know of their plans and abducted Dharma? The more they discussed, it seemed very likely. Suri could clearly remember the fear in Dharma's eyes when being pulled into the van. They had two options, complain to local police, but then they did not know anything about Sudha or about her father. Go back to Bangalore and complain. But the actual abduction had happened in another district altogether. Also it would be too risky for Dharma. Both Mani and Suri had strong opinions supporting opposite options. They were deep in this argument when Suri's phone beeped. It was a face book update, from Dharma. It resolved the immediate debate, but muddled the confusion more.

On Facebook Dharma said: 'Don’t worry. Meet me in front of hostel gate, 7 pm today.'

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It was 7:15 pm. Suri and Mani were pacing along the road, bored of watching the traffic. Every van raised the heart beats, but each one was false alarm. Why do so many Maruti Van's ply on this highway, Suri was cursing the choice of the car made by the abductor. His tension was rising and finally reached the threshold, he could not hold his mind together any longer. He told Mani that they were fed a false lead forcing them away from the crime scene and they should not delay reporting to the police. He argued with Mani, cursed him for not listening, told him that he was to be blamed if Dharma got hurt due to the delay and as a last resort snatched Mani's mobile phone where Sudha's home phone was stored and dialed it.

After N number of rings, with Suri's tension rising with each ring, the phone was finally answered: 'Colonel Gundu Rao Speaking!' Suri froze. The certificate in the dining hall flashed in front of Suri's eyes. It was an award in inter school competition given to one Sudhalakshmi G.

A Maruti van had slowed down. Neither of the two friends sensed it till it stopped right in front of them. They were busy analyzing the newly found data, trying to fit in the details, when somebody getting down from the van cried "April Foooool!'.

It was Dharma, holding his just married wife, Lakshmi alias Sudha alias Sudhalakshmi.

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When emotions had tempered down, Suri was the most difficult to handle. Things got clarified. Sudha had arranged this marriage with help of her cousin. However if they had tried to get married in Bangalore, the instructions to the security agency was quite clear, abduct the girl at all costs. Hence, this stunt was planned of getting married under the very nose of her father.

Illyas had not informed his friends because he was not sure they could keep composure upon meeting the Colonel. And yet he needed friends to hide himself. He could not have possibly come on vacation alone.

But why update the facebook? Dharma had a simple explanation. Dharma knew, given the addiction of Suri, he can forget to eat sometime but will not miss checking Face book updates on his mobile.

The Curious Case of Shanti Priya: The Weak and the Deserted

The Curious Case of Shanti Priya: The Weak and the Deserted

A news paper article by Ms Gita Rai, the noted feminist and the founder member of ‘BULDOZE’ the NGO working for empowerment of the women, is given below:

She was one of the many thousands of women, women who are deserted by their husband, disowned by parents, left alone to suffer and most likely to die on the streets. Shanti Priya has been through it and much more. But she has emerged like a phoenix, a source of inspiration and strength for all those facing injustice.

Shanti, as she is known to her near and dear, was deserted by her husband one chilly rainy night. It was supposed to be the happiest moment of her life, it was the day she found out she was pregnant with her first child. But it was not to be; she was dragged out by her husband and dumped in front of her parents’ house. Parents sheltered her for the night in a moment of pity, but soon made it clear that she could not stay there for long.

And so, on the second night in a row, Shanti found herself searching for a shelter. Luckily for her, a journalist friend of hers gave her not only the shelter but a platform to fight against the injustice. Her friend along with the editor of a small news paper where the friend worked, printed an interview which shook the city. That article made a heroine out of Shanti.

Today, a very pregnant Shanti is sitting in front of us, a day before her appearance in the court asking for divorce against a monster of a husband. She has difficulty standing up, yet there is a smile on her face, a sad smile. She hopes that the Judge will give a favorable judgment which will enable her to take care of the children (yes she is expecting twins).

Below we print an excerpt of Shanti’s interview, the interview which is endearing yet emanating the strength.

“We were classmates, Shantanu and me, during our graduation. (Smiles) Those were beautiful days, we connected almost immediately. We soon became very good friends, but both of us did not think much about the next step. It was only in our final year, that we took the friendship to the next level, after a lot of thought. Except for two of us, this was a logical conclusion which all our friends were expecting. We got married after 4 years of courtship. Life seemed idyllic then.’

‘The first year breezed past. We used to like each other very much and the marriage did not change things. We still loved each other. But then his job profile changed. In the new job, he had to travel a lot, for short durations but very frequently. It was then that Shantanu changed little by little, he started getting suspicious. He used to call me everyday and demand the day’s account, for every minute. If I was at a party, he used to ask who I was with, what I would do after the party. It was all ok in the beginning, but then it started getting on my nerves. Yet I used to calmly tell him everything. But the more I told him, the more he expected from me.’

‘Our first major fight was 2 weeks before he threw me out of the house. I was at a gathering at a friend’s house, and I came home late, around 1 AM I think. Shantanu was sitting on the steps waiting for me. He was not expected to return on that day from his business trip. And he had forgotten to take the house keys along. He was furious and demanded me to know why my mobile was switched off. The simple reason of lack of battery charge did not satisfy him. He was raring for a fight that day. He then demanded who had dropped me. ‘Wasn’t it one of the Kapoor’s (name changed)? I could make out the aquiline nose and cunning grey eyes even in the dark. You know how I feel about them.’ I agreed that the Kapoor’s (name changed) were known womanizers, atleast most of them. But Rajat Kapoor who had dropped me was nice man. I tried to justify, but finally gave up realizing that the argument was only making him angrier.’

‘Oh, that day is etched in my memory. It was happiest day of my life. I had suspected that I was pregnant for quite some time, but I got it confirmed only that afternoon. I was so happy, I was singing, dancing in the house, waiting for Shantanu to return from office. I was eager to give him the news.’

‘No I had kept the suspicions to myself, did not even let Shantanu get a hint. The anger in him had not cooled off even 2 weeks after the fight over Kapoor’s, we were hardly on speaking terms. I have hoped earnestly that my pregnancy and the future as a family will normalize our relations. But I had hoped too much.’

‘He pushed me away; he threw me on the bed instead of hugging me. Never in the history of human kind, would this have happened. A wife revealing about the motherhood and getting back angry beatings in return. He was questioning my character; he was questioning whether he was the father of the unborn children. He had not forgotten for two weeks. I started crying. I could not speak. He prowled around the house like a tiger building up his anger while I was silently crying in the room. Then suddenly he walked into the bedroom, dragged me into the car and dumped on the steps of parent’s house. We did not exchange a word in the car, we haven’t spoken till today.’

‘My father is an ex-serviceman. He is a man of discipline. And that turned out to be his undoing. On my mother’s insistence, I was allowed to sleep in the house that night. But next day it was made clear that I should look for alternative arrangement. I walked out of the house without knowing where I would sleep. Luckily for me a friend, Shivani, lived near by. She is a journalist working for a small newspaper. She gave me the emotional support I was desperate for. I was without a house, without money, without a job and pregnant. But this was the worst, things turned for better soon.

Shivani, with the support from the Editor Mr. Bhalerao, ran a small piece in the newspaper. The piece worked miracles; it was later selected as the Best Article of the Year by the Woman’s council for Independent Reporting (WCIR). But in short term, the plight of a single helpless woman was noticed. My father took me in, although reluctantly. I got a job in the government via the local MLA. The judge decided in my favor to give priority to this case. All of this happened due to the news paper article. I am grateful for the news paper and its editor.

‘Yes. I have applied with the Judge to keep my children away from the court. I do not want them to be affected by my personal mistakes or that of their father, Shantanu. I want them to have a normal childhood. Judge has kindly agreed stating that their wont be a need for the children to be produced in the court.’

‘I request all the readers to keep posted on this case. This is not only my personal case, but the case for all those women who are at the receiving end of atrocities. I wish all those women enough strength to fight against the society, fight for justice.’

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Although the case was in ‘fast-forward’ the court procedure took 6 months time. The twins were born in the mean time, yet nobody was allowed near them. Not even a photograph was allowed to be taken, as ruled by the Judge, “The children are not party to the divorce proceedings and should be protected against any violation of privacy.’

Shanti Priya in the mean time was fighting a huge battle but she was not alone. She was supported by thousands of supporters from all over India. Many Women’s organizations had offered her support, both monetary and moral.

Shantanu had not tried to defend himself in the court of the public. He had maintained a dignified silence all along, refusing to speak to any journalist, even his friends. In the court he still maintained that paternity tests should be conducted. A move opposed by Shanti on the grounds that the case was one of ‘Cruelty towards the spouse’, one proved by his dumping a pregnant lady shelter-less out of the house.

On the final day of hearing, Shatanu’s lawyer requested to produce in front of the court an evidence. Shanti did not care. She knew that whatever the lawyer produced today, the judge would rule in her favor. The public outcry otherwise will be so much that no judge will take the risk of a ruling pro-Shantanu. She was baying for the house and 75% of any future income of Shantanu.

It took a moment for Shanti to realize the evidence being produced. The next moment she had fainted. On the screen was a photograph of Shanti holding the twins, cute little boys yet to be named. Staring towards the camera were two sets of deep set gray eyes along with the unmistakable aquiline nose.

The judge ordered for the paternity test.

Back from the Brink

It took only one deft cut with the knife. I could feel the warm blood oozing from my wrist. It hurt and in pain I closed my eyes. I repeated to myself, ‘I deserve the pain. I deserve to die’. And the pain relieved a bit.

I thought I heard someone! With difficulty I opened my eyes. Tushar was trying to wake me up. Tushar? Why would he be here? How can he be here?! I had met him only once, and I had behaved so badly with him.

I realized I was hallucinating. Death was near. I heard a question, ‘Why did you do this to yourself?’ I replied, repeating for the nth time. ‘I am a bad girl. I have been a failure. I could not live up to my father’s expectations; I could not take care of my mother. I even failed myself. I should die. I deserve death.’

‘But you were not like this always. Nobody is born bad’ The voice persisted.

‘I am. I was a troublemaker always, even as a kid. Most people have beautiful first memories, Granny telling a story; walking in a park with father holding the left hand and mother holding the right. But my first memory is that of an adamant child, a headstrong brute. I was bad even when I was three.’

I continued, ‘It was my first big party, my birthday party. I was wearing a new dress and had been allowed to invite all my friends. It was very grand, we had even arranged for a magician to perform live. Everyone was laughing, enjoying, but I was getting a little bored. It was gifts I was interested in. I knew my parents would not disappoint me. I was waiting for my bicycle.

The time came, cake was cut, gifts received and finally the most awaited gift arrived. With a big smile, my parents handed me a box. It was too big for me to hold, but it could surely not hold a bicycle. I got anxious, opened the cover. It was a beautiful toy which my dad had got from his recent trip to US. But it was not a bicycle. I threw it away and started crying.

My parents were confused at first, but soon guessed what all the fuss was about. My father tried explaining me that the gift was much more expensive than a bicycle. But I screamed. Chetan, the neighboring kid, had got a bicycle for his third birthday. I wanted one too. In anger I kicked the toy. Enraged, he picked me up, walked down the stairs and put me down hard on the bed. He warned me against repeating such behavior again, and locked me in.

I was adamant. I refused to cry, refused to see off the guests. Soon most of the guests had left, only a few close relatives remained to help clear off the mess. I was sitting in the dark room, angry at everyone. I heard my aunt was scolding dad. "Don't be too harsh on her. She is missing her parents. That’s why she is behaving this way. A bicycle is not very expensive for you. What’s the problem?"

That was true, all of it. I saw very less of my mother and even less of my father. I was being sent to a play home since the age of 2 as my mother worked. She came back home late in the evening and watched TV as the maid cooked. She was always too tired to play with me. I spent the evening watching TV too. As for my father, he too worked and even harder. He was an ambitious person since the beginning, and he had his priorities clear. Job always trumped family.

Next day, I got my bicycle. I could not stop smiling. My parents were relieved; I would not pester them for now. But something inside me had changed. I had found a switch, an invisible switch, to get my wish granted. Any wish.

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The voice in my head spoke again ‘But then your parents should have disciplined you, should have guided you on the right path.’

They did when they could. But it was rare, because my father was always busy. I hardly saw him once a week and then almost always he had plans to visit the mall or the movies or a picnic when he was there. He always tried to please us, me and mummy, to make up for the time he was not there.

And my mother was too tired by the end of the day. She never spoke a hard word. She was always busy at work or at house. Or rather I would think she was not interested in anything.

But I remember one occasion. It was 10 in the night. My father had just returned from office. My mother was serving dinner for him. Both of us had already finished the dinner, as usual. There was no point in waiting for him. He himself did not know when he would be returning home. I was still wide awake, of course. I was a grown up now, I was nine. I slept late.

I switched on the TV at full volume. The phone rang, somebody shouted to reduce the volume, I ignored. I was engrossed in the TV, when my name cropped up in the conversation. One moment mother was talking calmly, the other she had got red with anger. I was curious. 'I cannot believe Rashmi would do this.' I knew I was in trouble.

My mother talked for a couple of minutes with my father. Father called me. I ignored them hoping that the clouds will pass away by some miracle. It only infuriated them further. My mother rushed towards me, snatched the remote from my hand, banged it on the sofa and pulled me towards the dining room.

'What did you teach Monisha? How do you know that word?'

I was the leader of the class. Not in studies, I let others take that one. But in other things, I had a big following among the girls. I knew so much more than them, from make-up to dresses to movies. The maids kept by my mom were happy to let me watch TV. This let them carry on with whatever they were interested in. The current maid talked to her boyfriend all afternoon.

Monisha was my class mate. And she had goofed up. I knew Monisha had used the four letter word, in front of parents. And then she had squealed my name. How stupid! Of course it was me who had picked up this word, as many other ‘bad’ words. This one I had learnt from a senior in school. I had even told them the meaning, though I did not understand much from its definition.

Both my parents were shouting at me simultaneously. How do you know that word? ‘It was in the movie you took me to last week at the mall’ I answered slyly, deflecting the blame. The mood changed. It was clear that they themselves were to be blamed this. The anger evaporated. I promised not to use such words again. I was let-off easily. As I turned I instinctively said 'Go to hell'. It was supposed to be under my breath. But seems it was not. Father flew in rage. Nobody said go to hell to him, surely not a 9 year old, surely not his own daughter. He took an iron scale lying nearby and hit my hand.

I closed my eyes with pain. Tears rolled from my eyes, even though I tried not to cry. My mother escorted me into my room. Once into my bed, I looked at my hand. There were blood stains.

My father did not speak to me for a week. Rather he got busy with his work and he always returned after I had slept. I was not very eager to meet him either.

He tried making up by offering me an expensive doll. I smiled just to keep his heart. But our conversations were never the same again. I learnt that speaking less was always safe, and if forced, talking about irrelevant things was safer.

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My father had never visited me at school. Never, except once, when I was 15, my final year in the school. I later came to know that his visit was inspired by a prospective client, a very big one. The client picked up his daughter from the school at least once a week. My father decided to pick me up himself that day. He wanted to be 'similar'.

He reached few minutes before the closing time. He walked towards my class, in order to surprise me. But it was him who was to be surprised, for I was not in the class, not even in the school. I was in the park next door, with Gaurav, my boyfriend.

The bell rang. Everybody walked out. We heard it in the park. We waited for a few minutes for the crowd to clear. We turned round the school corner when Gaurav pulled me towards him. I was smiling, teasing him. We did not care who saw us, we were love birds, content in ourselves. But father thought otherwise. And he was walking towards us, his face expressionless.

I was stunned, so was Gaurav. My father dumped me into the car and drove away. Gaurav had not even moved by then. None of us spoke, both of us were deep in the thoughts. Upon reaching home, I expected a volcano eruption. But nothing happened.

My mother was not at home. I was asked to go in my room and change. When I came out he was still deep in thoughts. He was walking up and down the drawing room trying to make up his mind on something. He came to some decision. He turned decisively towards the door. He took the car keys and walked away.

He returned very late. My mother did not speak to me that day.

Next day very early in the morning it was my father who woke me up. He instructed me to quickly take bath, wear some decent dress. I quickly followed as he had instructed, there was no question of not to. I could see the determined expression in his face.

Within an hour we were in the car driving out of the city. Someway outside, the car quickly turned and I saw big signs of a religious guru ‘Guruji’ serenely smiling at us from a bigger than life cut outs. There were signs towards the Ashram everywhere. I knew that the ashram was to be our destination.

My father had gotten more and more religious in recent days. His religious tendencies seemed to grow with his success. It was vicious cycle, the more successful he got, the lesser time he had from his work. Life got stressful and he turned towards religion, which consumed some of his precious time, increasing the stress in the process. He had tried various techniques of Yoga, different mantras and plethora of gurus. A chance meeting with Guruji in a flight had ended his quest for ‘the guru’. I knew about Guruji, though had never personally seen him.

We were inside the gates of the lush green ashram. The ashram was full of busy devotees, today being weekend a lot of crowd was expected. But my father was apparently held in high esteem, he got a direct entry into a private parking right next to the temple. We were quickly ushered into the temple for a sermon conducted by the Guru himself for his close devotees. It was an honor to be admitted here, but I was bored. I soon fell asleep.

The sermon was followed by a decent lunch followed by a round of bhajans. I had not seen his holiness since the sermon. Father disappeared for a moment or two, and came back with an appointment to meet the Guruji himself. It was the first time he spoke to me since the time we entered the ashram. He told me that he was very disappointed with yesterday's misdemeanor. Luckily Guruji had agreed to personally look into the matter and possibly allow me to make amends. Guruji had seen my future, and he felt I was going through a bad patch. He would be teaching me some secret techniques and I would be fine once again. My father praised the Guruji's courtesy and warned me against mis-behaving in Guruji’s presence.

We were admitted into his chamber, where Guruji sat with his legs on a stool. My father quickly bent down and kissed his feet. He asked me to follow the suit, I hesitated. My father's silent nudge finally made me follow my father's actions. The serene face fitted on a very vast body and Guruji looked at peace. Except for his eyes, they were fidgety.

He made both of us sit near his feet. Looked down upon us and asked me to explain why I was there. I started explaining yesterday's incident but my father got angry at some detail and tried to interject. Guruji's temper rose, he did not like interruptions especially the angry ones. He ordered my father to go into the meditation center to meditate. Anger is not good for the spirit. I have never seen my father agree so meekly to another person. I could see the guilt on his face as he walked out. I knew he was determined to cool himself down, even if it took whole evening. The door closed behind me. Suddenly an unknown fear rose in me.

Guruji asked me to continue. He had taken my hands into his. He wanted more details. I had explained him every thing I had too, but soon I realized that he was more interested in the 'chemistry' part. I mumbled something. I was about to excuse myself on some reason when I felt his hand wander a bit too far. I pushed away his hand, tried to get up but he was agile for his body. He caught my shoulders, and forced me to sit down. I was crying. He was trying to calm me down. For the first time in my life I wished for my father.

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And the door opened, my father walked in. On seeing me, he got concerned. Guruji spoke. 'I have taught her all I knew. The knowledge is emotionally disturbing. But trick is in following it. And don't ask her about it. You or anybody else should never know what I have taught her. And don’t worry about her crying, she will be fine. She might need some more classes, get her here in a months time.' With this he got up. With this explanation, my father did not find any thing unnatural about my crying. I was aghast. I walked as if in trance. I did not sleep through the return journey, yet I do not remember how I reached back home.

My father did not ask me anything. My mother was also instructed by my father, and although she was worried, she did not let me explain anything. I soon realized the futility of explaining anything. He was blind to truth. But I also did not allow any threats from my father to let myself anywhere near the ashram ever.

**********************************************************
I was 21, still living with my parents. It was a year since I had graduated. A year since I had joined my first job. A year since I was dabbling in something more than just alcohol. But that night was different. It was not a regular Saturday night party, rather a special one where admission was only by invitation. And I had managed to get myself an invitation.

It was also the first time that night that I woke up not knowing where I was. The last thing I remembered clearly was snorting a white powder. It had hit me almost immediately. The rest of the party was a blur. My limited knowledge did not yet consist of the fact that I was used to the impure stuff, and the purer and more potent drugs hit me severely.

That night I woke up in a car next to a guy, who was also fast asleep. I didn’t know his name, don’t know it even now. And I don’t remember what went on that night. I don’t dare to ask anyone. Something tells me that what I would hear will not be good.

I gathered myself, feeling ashamed. I always thought such things happen to ‘other’ girls, lacking self control. I was sure I was not devoid of one. I hailed a taxi, it was almost dawn by then. On the way back I decided to keep away from drugs. I wanted to behave myself. I had learnt my lesson.

I reached home. Father was pacing up and down. He was angry, he was muttering. And he had guessed too much.

An argument ensued. Tempers flew. And father brought out a topic I had hoped was buried six years ago. The topic was of Guruji. ‘Guruji wants to complete the course. The bad energy has not left you. The course should be completed, the one you left half way through. He reminded me even last week.’

I was furious. I called Guruji names. I told him what he did to me. Father did not believe me, rather grew furious. He was almost ready to explode. ‘Your guruji is a paedophile’ I screamed, intending to hurt him. And it did. He hit me, on my cheek.

I was defiant. I packed up and left. I walked out of that house on that day never to go back.

************************************************************************

It was my birthday and I was high. The thing which I had promised myself was exactly the thing I had got mired into. Looking back, I was an addict but I did not realize it then. I still thought I could stop at my whim, but today was my birthday, the party had just begun and I was high.

Everybody in the room was a friend of mine, except one person. His name was Tushar. He was a friend of a friend and he was mysterious. He never revealed what he did for living, nor any of the personal details, yet he was charming. The mystery enhanced his charm. I was charming too in the beginning, but then the spirits took over.

All I remember now is the end of the party. I was being driven home. Tushar had offered to drop me. He lived near by. We reached; Tushar had to help me into the house.

I woke up next day with a big headache without much memory but only a dream, a bad dream. In my dream, I was being helped by Tushar up the stairs. He opened my purse took out the keys, opened the door and helped me inside. I fell down on the sofa and ordered him to take out my footwear. He did. I asked him to help me into the bedroom. He did. I reached the bed room. Once inside, I pulled Tushar by collar and did the unthinkable. I did not do it but I tried. I was drunk and he easily managed to let himself loose from my weak grip. He calmed me down, and asked me to lie on the bed. Once in the bed, he sat next to me, took my hand and said "You need not do this to yourself. You are a nice girl." Then a blank. Next thing I remember is waking up.

I am not sure whether it was just a dream. Whatever it was, it started me thinking into meaning of my life. I had an empty feeling. All the friendship’s were just mirage, I had no real friends, I had not real relations, I hated my father and he hated me. I didn’t even know my mother well. She was only in the background all my life. Now she was not even that.

I went to work, almost mechanically smiling the next day. The wheel in the head kept turning. Sometime during the day, thoughts clarified. I had come to a decision, Decision to lead a meaningful life, to make real friends, not these ‘dope’ ones. I had decided to mend my relation with my parents. I decided to meet them soon. On the way back from office I was almost smiling.

I proposed, but God had something else in his mind.

**************************************************
It was almost dark when I walked into my room. I had packed dinner for myself on the way from office. I lived alone in this house. I opened the door switched on the light. There was a packet lying on the floor. It looked unusual, there was no stamp. There was no ‘from’ address

I opened the packet. A bunch of photographs fell out, uncontrollably scattering on the floor. I bent down to pick them up, picked up the first one and suddenly I lost all the energy. I had to sit down in shock. I watched the other photos with disbelief. The photos were grainy, but it was definitely me wearing almost nothing with a boy also in similar situation.

I recognized the photo of the guy. It was from a party almost six months ago, but I could not remember his name. The feeling slowly sunk in. I could not remember the names of anyone with whom I have had liaisons. I was horrified at the levels I had sunken to. It was a reminder. But why would anyone have these photographs and send it to me?

I wanted to know. I searched for the packet cover, turned it upside down, and found a small chit, ‘You will come to meet me. Your treatment is yet incomplete. If you don’t…’ I felt the chill pass through my heart. It was blackmail, a very cheap blackmail. I felt like crying, for the first time in many years. I despaired!

The resolution of reformed life was forgotten when I opened a bottle of the strongest spirit available in my stock. But the whole bottle failed to refresh me, to lift my spirits. I was going in a downward spiral and I desperately needed help. But I was in a quicksand. The more I struggled, the more I sunk. I was crying. I was fighting. Yet I was sinking.

The phone rang. It was my father, speaking to me for the first time in 3 years. My spirits rose. I wanted his support. But he would not listen to me. He spoke of Guruji wanting to meet me.

Guruji obviously had done his homework. My father pleaded with me, threatened me and when nothing else worked, ordered me to meet Guruji. He said he will pick me up tomorrow morning. I disconnected the call.

My mind had lost the fight, the fight to survive. I threw away the phone and made my way to the kitchen. I knew what I wanted. I had a Japanese knife, very sharp one. In that moment of hurry, I could not find it. The tears were obstructing my view. I was searching desperately when the phone rang again. It had to be my father. “Your problems will be over soon” I said. “Tomorrow you can come to collect my body.”

“Rashmi?” an unknown voice spoke at the other end. I froze, it was not my father. And I did not recognize the number. I quickly disconnected, found the knife I was searching for and walked peacefully into the bedroom. It took only one deft cut.

*******************************************************************

Today, exactly 2 years since that fateful night, I am in a train on the way to meet my mother who has since separated with my father. She should have done it years ago, but that’s a different story.

Right now, Tushar is with me. He is more than a friend now. He is my fiancé.

An absent-minded act of pocketing the keys, saved my life. Both literally and metaphorically. It was a string of coincidences, he finding my keys while packing his windcheater, obtaining my number from his friend, calling me, I mistaking him for my father, and revealing my suicidal intentions. He quickly came over, opened the door with my own keys. It was him who was asking me questions, which I mistook for hallucinations. The question/answer session kept me awake and alive, while he bandaged me and took me to a nearby hospital.

Two days later he made me an offer I could not refuse. An offer which involved me leaving everything behind and accompanying him to his rehabilitation center in the middle of a tribal district. Pre-condition? No mobile, No newspaper till he approves. The payback: ‘I will take care of the Guruji. He will never trouble you again.’ I never believed the payback part, a tribal doctor was nothing more than a dust when compared to the mega-establishment of Guruji. Yet I followed my gut feeling. I followed him. It was the right decision. These were two depressing years, struggling against the drugs and struggling to get used to rural environment. But I did adjust to the serene beauty of nature and I also did recover from addiction. I am clean. For six months I have not shown any symptoms. And I am happy.

Tushar gave me a newspaper clipping. On it, the serene face of Guruji was smiling at me. I felt nauseated. Although I had not seen the photographs since that night, I realized that I had not gotten over the incident. I started reading the article. Somebody had marked the last paragraph.

‘The allegations sexual misconduct first started appearing in the “The Chosen Times’. Guruji denied it vehemently. But the damage was done. A flood of complaints were soon received, followed by examination of financial misconduct. Guruji was in jail for 2 months. He got out on bail. He was free from the police but not from the news. Allegations continued, his property confiscated and 2 weeks after his realize, it was announced that Guruji had attained Samadhi. Whether he killed himself, or was murdered nobody can know. But we can be sure that we have seen the last of the Guruji’.

I turned towards Tushar and asked him ‘How did you do it? I know it was you who did it. Do you have some influence at The Chosen? How did you manage it?’ He smiled, ‘I punched the initial hole in the fragile dam, and water did the rest. A little bit. The Chosen is owned by the Malpe Shetty Group of Industries and my name is M. Tushar Shetty. M stands for Malpe.

I was shocked; He had everything, inherited fortune, personal individual success. Why was he marrying me, a total failure, a nobody?

Tushar was calm, ‘You are not a failure. You fought and fought well given the circumstances. A person is nothing but a product of the environment and your parents surely are the most important environment. In your case I had guessed a lot even before I had heard your story. Now I know you are a victim of ignored childhood. But you had the courage to recover from it. Your father is ambitious, he rose from nothing. He fought all the way to the top. But he paid the price for it. You paid the price for it! It’s not your fault how you grew up.’

He continued ‘I trust you. I trusted you from the moment I met you. You only needed a little bit of guidance. And last 2 years have proved me correct. Its not a shame to have a dirty face, shame comes when you keep it dirty. And you are clean now. I am proud of you.’

I smiled, resting my head on his shoulder, I slept peacefully. For the first time in my life, I felt secure.

Justice?

Do you like to sip coffee while watching the rain battering the window pane? Do you like to linger on the 'Upper Birth' of a reserved train compartment all day long reading mystery Novels? Do you like to go out and eat in a restaurant once in a while? Do you like to see new places with your family?

There are so many other questions and if you answer 'Yes' to even one of them, my next question will be 'Where is your sense of Justice?'

There has been a lot of talk and newspaper space being spent on the issue of giving justice to those slum dwellers who lost their lives and are continually suffering even today. Most people are baying for the heads of big shots from Warren Anderson to Arjun Singh to Entire congress government. The anger is against the rich and famous using their privileges for escaping justice. They demand justice for the poor.

But what is justice? Had those people been alive today, most of them would still be lingering in those slums. Scurrying around every time rain hits hard filling up whatever hole they call home, traveling by unreserved compartments jostling along with hundreds of other people for space enough to keep their b*** on, to struggle or steal whenever the prices of pulses go high, to dream about those beautiful places which they had to leave behind from due to lack of food/work. While the whole middle class, which seems to be the main support base of Bhopal Victims, do what they like to do as mentioned in the first paragraph.

And the only reason 'We' can afford these little pleasures is because our parents earned enough to afford us private education, and let us study without interruptions for 'field-work'. Every time you travel by reserved class, their might be an old blind sick lady suffering in the unreserved compartment, unable to make through the journey. Every time you shoo a young lad trying to take shelter from the rain under your window, he might get sick of pneumonia, result of getting drenched in the rain.

Do we care? No way. This is the life 'we' would be giving them, had they been alive. And we won't be blaming ourselves.

Lets not forget, humans are born hypocrites. Our sense of justice fails us when the society asks us to give up our little pleasures. So why be jealous if somebody else makes use of his own position to save himself some trouble?

Here is a challenge. If you still want to cry for bhopal victims, give up everything which your birth has bestowed on you. And then lets talk about Justice.

Devil's Workshop

A lie repeated often becomes truth. And when it is mixed with two months of reading adventure novels and an idle mind, a highly combustible mixture is formed. A spark is sufficient for it to explode. And it did explode for Sameer. However, lying in a puddle on a dark wet night with mud in his face is not an ideal situation for such thoughts. Worries about the immediate future occupied his mind fully. The cyclist had disappeared in the dark, leaving behind a wet and muddy Sameer busy making up a plan to keep the cook at home from reporting the incident to his father. But when he reached home, the cook was in no mood to even look at him. She was shivering with fear and sobbing on the porch in the dark.

Looking back Sameer wished he had not knocked the door that day. He had even come very close to not knocking, yet he had. This knock had possibly saved Savitri’s life, but had culminated into his lying in that muddy ditch.

*****************************************************************
It was a hot summer evening and Sameer had been searching for Ganesh hoping to have some good time. Sameer was really bored. He had recently graduated as an engineer and had even secured a job. But the ravages of the economy had forced the company to postpone his joining. His father worked in this village. He himself had never stayed here for more than a few days at a time. He did not know many people around here and had no friends. His father, being the only doctor in the vicinity, was busy beyond limits. Sameer was starved for human company and Ganesh, the priest at the local temple, was one of the few people in the village whose company he enjoyed.

The temple was locked. Sameer made his way to the house where Ganesh lived. Surprisingly, from far Sameer could see that the windows and door of the house were locked. Sameer, assuming nobody was at home, turned to go back while wondering where could they have gone. Ganesh had mentioned nothing of this sort the previous evening. Sameer decided to inquire about Ganesh’s whereabouts from his neighbour.

Ganesh stayed in one of the old style houses, where one of the walls was shared with the neighbour. The front doors of both the houses were next to each other. This arrangement meant that the neighbor was likely to know the whereabouts of Ganesh. Sameer walked upto the door which was open. He glanced inside before knocking. The house was filled with smoke and nobody was in sight. There was somebody chanting far inside the house. Sameer hesitated for a moment. Just then, from the corner of his eyes, Sameer noticed that Ganesh's door was in fact unlocked. He hopped in front of the other door.

It took three hard knocks before there was any sign of life inside. A small slit opened from which somebody suspiciously peered outside. Confirming that it was Sameer, Savitri, Ganesh’s wife, held the door wide open. Rather it was the door which held Savitri, who had inclined on the door for support. She was deathly pale and shaken. So shaken was she that it took her another 5 minutes to open her eyes and another 15 plus a cup of tea to open her mouth.

With hot tea in her hands, Savitri finally regained her composure. She thanked Sameer for saving her life. Sameer looked puzzled. It was his father who was doctor and saved lives. Savitri continued unperturbed, "If you had not knocked at the right time, the Witch would have taken my life". It was clear that she was referring to the next door neighbour, Kamala. Sameer was still puzzled, and Savitri took it upon herself to explain the events of the whole afternoon.

Savitri was alone in the house that evening. Ganesh had to go to the town for an emergency. She was feeling uneasy since morning due to the religious activities of the neighbour which was disturbing her by producing lots of smoke and chants. The uneasiness increased with loneliness and soon became anxiety as the quantum of the smoke and chanting increased as if on purpose. Savitri closed the door and the windows hoping to shut out the smoke and the chants. She felt tired and needed a quick nap. Savitri lay on the bed.

The room was dark. Savitri was half asleep when Kamala appeared out of nowhere, wearing a black cloak with her hair open. She had extended her arms to welcome Savitri into her fold. Savitri tried to call for help, and became more terrified when no sound escaped her mouth. She heard a loud schreeching scream. With a jerk Savitri opened her eyes, only to see the witch give an loud evil laugh and with a puff disappear into the smoke which had almost enclosed her body now. Savitri lay awaiting the grips of death when she heard the knock on the door. As if by magic the smoke vanished. Savitri stirred to open the door.

Sameer sat their stunned, unable to believe a word Savitri had said. Savitri sensed his disbelief and was offended. "You are new to this place, and you are too young. You won't understand. This witch first consumed her husband, a great man he was but he withered in a matter of days. Then her own son disappeared without a trace. I am sure, she is torturing her daughter-in-law now."

This was the last Sameer could get out of Savitri on the topic that evening. He waited there till Ganesh's return. It was late evening by the time he reached home, still a bit shaken by the events.

*****************************************************************

Next day, Sameer was having a peaceful breakfast while being deeply engrossed in reading the day's newspaper when an amulet appeared on the table. The cook who held the amulet for him was still debating in her mind the appropriateness of her actions. Finally she spoke, "Sameer babu. It was very valiant of you yesterday, the way you saved Savitri. But in the process you have incurred the wrath of the Witch. This amulet from Baba will save from her curses." After praising the strength of the amulet and its maker for a few moments, she finally left an amused Sameer alone. He went back to his breakfast while brooding on yesterday's events.

Sameer stared at the amulet debating whether to inform his father. He decided against it, justifying that his father had many other worries. Since his mother's death 4 years ago, father had got himself transferred from the city to a remote village. Leaving his city he hoped to leave his grief behind. He did succeed partially as the hectic work here hardly gave him any time to think. He lived alone, except when Sameer, their only child, visited during vacations. Sameer decided that the cook would be a better source of information. Sameer made his way into the kitchen where the cook was doing her job. He did not have to try hard for the information he sought.

Kailash's wisdom and education had got him a lot of love and respect in the village. So much was the respect that the village had dropped everything and had flocked to the town hospital on that fateful day when he met with a freak accident, and required blood transfussion. It was one of the rare occassions when the village had agreed and acted on something unanimously. They had agreed only one other time, when Kailash had decided to marry Kamala. The whole village denounced the choice but when Kailash persisted, they believed that Kamala had bewitched Kailash into marrying her.

Kamala was the only daughter of the most revered and most feared person in the whole province. Revered because he could cure anything, from earthly to divine, just by a flick of his hand. And feared because the same flick of hand could be used against those offending him. And he was known for his temper. Kamala being his daughter, she was hated and feared as well. She did not show either the temper or the temperament of her father. Yet her looks inspired the fear.

They tolerated her as long as Kailash was alive. But soon the blame of Kailash's death fell on her shoulders and the whole village turned against her. And when Girish, their son, disappeared, she was more feared and all the memories of her father became alive again. Girish was an ideal child, disciplined, intelligent and agreeable. He was held as an ideal to achieve for many children growing up in the village. But when few months after his father's demise, Girish disappeared, villagers suspected something fishy. Girish was missed dearly, and Girija, Girish's wife was pitied. But nobody dared to do anything, for one, Girija never complained about anything and secondly, nobody had the guts to confront Kamala.

*****************************************************************

Sameer met Ganesh in the evening at the temple, as usual. Savitri was recovering, he said. Ganesh did not believe much of what Savitri had experienced the previous day, yet he was anxious. He felt sure that something was afoot in his neighbor’s house which was secret. There were many unknown people visiting them in recent days. Sameer had nothing to say.

Just as they were parting, Ganesh suddenly fell silent. A dark muscular man passed by riding a bicycle. The moment Sameer saw the man, he knew in his heart that this was The Villain of this whole episode. He wore an untidy bright shirt, unkempt long hair and an expression on the face which was overflowing with hatred. This intuition was then re-enforced when Ganesh related that this man was frequenting Kamala's house ever since the disappearance of Girish. Nobody knew his business or where he came from. The man never entered Kamala's house for more than few minutes and sometimes there was an exchange of some packets. Ganesh was sure that it was some witchery scheme and this man was her accomplice. The visits had increased in recent days. Ganesh warned Sameer to be careful as he might be on Witches radar after saving Savitri.

That night while Sameer was sitting on the porch after dinner, his father asked him about the previous day's incident. 'The cook told me you saved poor old Savitri' he said. Sameer explained the whole incident from his point of view and his father laughed at the superstitions. "You don't believe in such vodoo, do you?' Sameer assured his dad that he was too intelligent to believe in black magic, never revealing his suspicions that Savitri might be involved in some other villainy.

Sameer found himself thinking about it a lot. Later that night, Sameer amused himself by thinking that he may be in an 'Enid Blyton' novel. Unsuspecting elders, a dangerous looking villain and a shady sneaky character, all were there. Sameer's untapped andventourous spirits were being released, atlast.

*****************************************************************

Sameer was dumbfounded. He was in the bookshop in the town, browsing through book shelf when he heard somebody addressing him in what he thought to be a sweet voice. 'You are the Doctor's son, arent you?'. Sameer turned around to face Girija.

He had spent two days trying to find some more information about Kamala. He had planned his tasks meticulously with the lone objective of maximising the number of trips in front of Kamala's house. However all the walking went futile as no information could be obtained. The house looked normal enough and he could not detect any activity beyond the routine. And when least expected, he had met Girija, the ultimate source of information.

For first few minutes Girija held her side of conversation going on even as Sameer replied only in monosyllables. But soon they were having a real conversation. Sameer offered Girija to help with her heavy bag, and hence ensured her company from the town to the bus stop and all the way to the village. She seemed intelligent and interesting but Sameer had other agenda on his mind.

'I should have been home by now', Girija was getting anxious of the delay on the bus stop. Sameer picking up this opportunity, jumped in. 'Will somebody get upset because you are late'? Sameer asked (appreciating himself for the question). But Girija looked at him with a smile and said 'No. Don't worry. Nobody will get upset for me being late except myself.' The smile was very sweet, Sameer thought, but felt that he had also detected a pain in her eyes. Sameer kept wondering about this. Their bus journey was quite silent. After getting down from the bus, Sameer suddenly realised that they were very near to Girija's house. He knew that this may be the last chance if he wanted to know more about Girish.

"Can I ask you something?" Sameer asked, but did not wait for the answer, 'Where is Girish? What happened to him?". Girija suddenly stopped in the middle of the road, turned around towards Sameer, and calmly spoke "He is fine." It was clear she was trying to preempt the discussion. "But where is he?" Sameer was adamant. Girija gave a very curious expression which puzzled Sameer for many days to come, 'You are the Doctor's son, aren't you?". With this she turned left the place. Sameer was stunned. He kept wondering why did their conversation start and end with the same question!

Somebody was staring at him, he realised. It was Kamala who had come to the door. She was a lanky woman of average height with nothing remarkable, until one noticed her eyes. They were sharp and combined with the hawk nose, they gave an ominous look. He felt as if he had been bared. He suddenly turned around and left as fast as he could. He had not yet taken a few steps, when he heard a faint scream starting out and suddenly being muted, as if somebody had pressed the hand on the mouth to drown the scream. As chill passed down his spine, Sameer felt empathetic with Savitri. With great will power he managed to turn around, but nobody was in sight. Even Kamala who had been staring at him few moments ago was gone.

Sameer made his move towards the house stealthily. He was determined to help Girija, if it was indeed she who had screamed. He found an old hedge across their house where he took shelter while investigating. His 'famous five' instincts were rising once again. While he was busy trying to figure out what was happening inside the house, there was a rustle of leaves behind him. He jumped, turned around to meet the constant gaze of Kamala, now at an arms distance. Sameer thought very hard to come up with an excuse to be there, but Kamala was expecting none and she never asked for any. She held up a pear which she seemed to have been collecting. Sameer unconsciously took the pear and a bite before he realised the risk he had taken by eating a fruit from so dangerous a woman. Unable to swallow or to spit out, he held it in his mouth without chewing. 'Saviour of Savitri!' Kamala seemed to be smiling. There was surely mischief on her face, but no evil. Sameer was dumbfounded, not only because he could not think of any answer, but also because his mouth was full of the bite he had taken of the pear. He was trying hard to suppress the thought of the pear being poisoned by the witches curse, when suddenly he started sweating profusely. He managed to excuse himself, without uttering a word. With great restraint he walked around the turn, and spit out the bite of the pear. He threw the rest of the fruit on to the road side and ran towards his home.

He had almost reached the door of his house when he fainted.

*****************************************************************

That night Sameer slept uneasily. Two images kept recurring. Kamala staring at him unblinkingly, making him feel chill even at that distance. And the curious look which Girija gave him. He was sure that Girija was hiding something. But what was that? Was she asking for help? He could not understand. Finally he slept.

Sameer woke up suddenly with a scream, his hand extended. He was searching for something, but he could not find it. Girija was burning while her mother-in-law laughed. The longer it took for Sameer, the more desperate he became. Finally he touched something, lifted it up to the light. It was his alarm clock. It took a moment for him to realise that he was having a bad dream, and another few minutes to cool himself down.

Sameer could not sleep anymore. He had been sick for almost a week. His father had declared that it was a combination of heat stroke and junk food he had eaten in the town. Sameer knew better, yet he told nobody. He was now determined to expose Kamala once and for all. And he had a plan too. Kamala was too dangerous to confront, but the villain who ran her errands would be easy to apprehend.

Sameer was walking towards the temple. It was evening and clouds were gathering in the air. In the temple he met both Ganesh and Savitri. Savitri had been very worried that day and had refused to be alone in the house. She had heard that piercing scream again. It was a new moon day, a very inauspicious day. She was sure Kamala was plotting something.

He walked along with the priest and his wife to their house. After arguing unsuccessfully with Savitri that there was nothing inauspicious about the new moon day, Sameer left their house. It was getting dark and the clouds were threatening to pour any time. He decided to take a shortcut to reach home. Just as he got off the road, he heard the scream again. Sameer froze. His heart gathered pace and he was sweating. Just as on the cue, it started raining. Now Sameer started believing the intuition of Savitri. He decided to wait and watch. He chose a hedge some way across, this time making sure that there was no path crossing behind it. The care was unnecessary as it soon got dark and even the street lights failed to light up. He could hardly make out his own hand, but Sameer did not dare to move.

He waited for 15 minutes in the drenching rain. The street wore a deserted look. Just as Sameer had given up he saw a light near the turning. It was moving slowly and few minutes later a bicycle appeared. As the bicycle crossed near the hedge Sameer saw the same dark man with huge mustache. He seemed liked a 'daitya' from any movie, drenched to the core yet riding on coolly. He came to a halt near Kamala's house. He waited for a couple of minutes and soon the door opened. The witch was expecting him.

Sameer started moving towards the bicycle with the intent of examining it for clues when the door opened. The man was inside for not more than 30 seconds. He saw the man holding a packet. He did not turn back nor talk. He pushed the packet under his shirt and started riding again. Sameer had to make a decision fast. He jumped on the road ahead of the bicycle with a scream. He had taken the cycle rider by surprise. There was a crash and both fell down. Thunder drowned the sound of the crash. The man quickly disappeared in the darkness, leaving his cycle on the road.

Sameer was lying in the pool, wet and dirty. Trying to search for the man in the darkness would be futile, sameer concluded correctly and he started making his way back home. On the way, he made up his mind to bribe the cook into silence. But when he reached home, the cook was in no mood to even look at him. She was shivering with fear and sobbing on the porch in the dark.

*****************************************************************

Sameer was all alone in the house. He was talking bath, washing off the mud he had accumulated during the evening's adventure. It had taken him many minutes before he could calm the cook, convincing her that he was not attacked by anyone. Somebody had visited the house in the evening looking for Sameer whose looks the cook did not like. She had sent him away to come later, had tried calling Sameer's father who had not picked up the call. She was waiting for Sameer's arrival so that she could warn him of this person. However when she saw that Sameer was limping and badly bruised, she got convinced that the same person had attacked Sameer. She was almost sure that it was the witch who had instigated the attack and could not forgive herself for not warning Sameer earlier. She calmed down only when Sameer told it was an accident due to the rain. Sameer asked her to go back home, he could take care of himself.

Just as Sameer was getting dressed, the door bell rang. Sameer, expecting his father, opened the door carelessly. A man in his mid thirties barged in. He made himself comfortable on the sofa, before looking up with a crooked smile. From somewhere suddenly a big knife appeared which he placed on the table in front of him, obviously as a threat. He surely must have another weapon in case Sameer tried something foolish. Sameer had read enough novels to realise this. He also had a big mole on his cheek that made him look like any number of villains in bollywood cinemas. Sameer's throat ran dry.

'You have been making lots of trouble. And you seem very desperate for answers.' the crook said and waited as if expecting an answer. Sameer tried to defend but the man was short of patience and he interrupted: 'I have got you answers. And I hope you will like it'. With a swift motion he brought out an envelop. Sameer took the envelop and reading the '"From" his fear vanished in a moment and was replaced by eagerness. It was addresses to him by the company which had offerred him employment.

'You father sends you congratulations. He will join you soon for dinner.' The man said with a smile.

'And forgive me if I over did my act. Your father had asked me to only make a scene as a lesson to you. But I could not resist the knife when I saw this one in the market. It suits the character'. With this he left.

*****************************************************************

The letter was from the company's HR requesting (sic) him to join next week itself. Sameer was more eager for his father to return. How much did he know? Sameer soon realised that his father had known his intentions all along. Being a doctor, he met many people. If he wanted he could get any information. It was not long before his father returned, and the real story unfolded.

Sameer's Father confirmed everything Sameer had known about Kailash and his family. It was a happy family, inspite of what the villagers talked about Kamala. but then tragedy struck. First Kailash met with a freak accident and only few months later he was detected as HIV positive. The treatment costs a lot and they had to take loan on the farmland. and it had to be done in secret because they din't want to reveal the disease to the villagers.

'But why secret? And if you say he had such a good character, how did he get HIV in the first place?' Sameer's father smiled. "Your second question answers the first. If you, being so educated, can doubt Kailash's morality for getting HIV, what about the villagers? Remember, Kailash needed a lot of blood after the accident. And many more injections. Somebody slipped in the town hospital and Kailash and his family are paying for it. I had suggested them to make it public. I wanted to use this as a publicity measure to spread awareness about AIDS. But they preferred to keep Kailash's memory pure."

Sameer was ashamed at his own lack of thinking. Father continued, "To repay the loan, Girish had to go to the middle east. Again there were two reasons for hiding the fact. Firstly, people would ask why he had to go when he had so much farm here? and Secondly, the local politics would have left Kamala and Girija very vulnerable. Its easy to extort money when they have the means to pay."

"But now things will be better for them soon. Girish has paid back all the loans and his mother and wife will be joining him. They don't want to come back. The dark man who is accomplice of Kamala according to the villagers, is actually the agent of the bank managing the loan. He is also Girish's friend and acts like a proxy for letters. The local postman cannot be trusted."

Sameer felt he understood the whole mystery. He was deep in thoughts when he heard the evil scream again, this time from inside his house. Seeing Sameer start, his father gave a smile, took out his mobile phone which was ringing. 'Isn't it nice? I got this ring tone from Girija today."

For Free

A young lady walked into an old age home. She wore a stylish dress and was clearly out of place in the surroundings. She stood out in the building dominated by age, from furniture to fans to people. Her each step was noticed from the moment she entered the building all the way to the administrator's office. Although it was clear she did not belong there, she walked with surety of a person familiar with the surroundings.

Nirmala, the administrator, looked up with a smile. She was an middle aged lady with a big kum-kum on her forehead and tightly tied hair. Nirmala was sitting on an wooden table, another relic of the bygone era and a big wooden chair with only 2 pillows for comfort. The visitor had to adjust on a similar old wooden bench with no back support. Nirmala recognized the young lady immediately, 'You are here to meet Mrs Murthy, isn't it?'.

The young lady was surprised. 'You have a sharp memory. I am coming back after almost 4 months, I have been here only a couple of times. '

Nirmala protested 'Don't flatter my memory. It is only seldom that we get such a beautiful visitor. It stays in mind.' And with this Nirmala waved at the attender and ordered 2 cups of tea. 'You are here at the wrong time. Mrs Murthy does not like her siesta to be disturbed. The age makes them very excitable, you know.'

The young lady was not in a hurry. She could wait for an hour.

The tea arrived and served. With the first sip of a very sweet tea Nirmala spoke, "I thought you were no different than so many others who come to visit these old people. Just to satisfy their conscience. They visit the old people a couple of times. But the concern is not genuine. They soon forget them and arrive only when everything has ended. Just to make a show of things.' Bitterness was evident on the face of Nirmala. Managing an old-age home was not for weak hearted. Death was more than reality here.

Nirmala continued "You look too young to be her daughter."

The young lady replied 'I am not her daughter nor I am like the relatives you mentioned. Its a long story, if you are interested.' Nirmala had nothing to do that afternoon, and so the young lady went back some 30 odd years.

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'Maya Murthy was a young girl then, neither too intelligent nor too beautiful. She had just finished her graduation and was depressed. It was almost a year since her parents were searching for a match for her. But all the proposals were going nowhere. She felt that she deserved much better than what was being offered. Maya was the only daughter of Mr. Shridhar and Sunanda Murthy, a typical middle class couple. Shridhar was a government servant and Sunanda, a house wife. Shridhar and Sunanda themselves were getting frustrated with the whole match-making process. It seemed like searching for a needle in a haystack. They did not know it, but the wheels of fortunes were turning.

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Maya and Kumar got married in December. It was an almost fairy tale marriage, the preparations were perfect, the food was excellent. Shridhar had a sort of worried look on his face. People attributed it to tensions of getting daughter married. But few guessed that the reasons ran deeper than that.

Kumar, an engineer working in US was a dream match for Maya. When the proposal came, Shridhar approached it with caution as the proposal seemed too good to be true. But after couple of meetings, everybody including the boy and the girl gave their consent. Shridhar felt comfortable with the family and the discussions progressed smoothly until the familiar issue of dowry cropped up. Unexpectedly Kumar's family asked for more dowry than what Shridhar was prepared for. Shridhar was not shocked because of the demand. Rather he was shocked that Kumar, whose salary was many times that of Shridhar's should have taken active part in the negotiation. Shridhar had a feeling that Kumar may be too dominating and money minded. He started having second thoughts about the match, it was not too late to cancel the wedding.

Maya, who was swept off her feet by Kumar, was behaving almost like a teenager. She literally could not stop talking about Kumar. She was also the saddest when the blow came. When Maya learnt that Shridhar was having second thoughts, she despaired. Maya wept all night long. Finally Shridhar and Sunanda, unable to see her plight, took a decision with a heavy heart; they decided to borrow money for the first time in their life. With the borrowed money and along with every scrap of saving, Shridhar arranged for the dowry and the wedding expense. But it turned out to be a wise decision in the end. Kumar and his family were at their best and did not create any more trouble. Shridhar was soon an object of envy for his friends and family for having found such a great match.

**********************************
Time flew. Soon it was one year since the tearful farewell was give to Maya at the airport. Those initial days were the best for the Murthy's as they enjoyed the glamour which came with daughter living abroad. The talk in their household always revolve around 'Maya and her experiences' in those days. However the joy turned sour when they realized it will be long before they can meet Maya. Maya had informed that they could not travel to India at end of one year and that they would be missing the festival. It was the most important festival where son-in-law is the guest of honor. Sunanda was aghast. She started suspecting that all was not well between Maya and Kumar. When asked, Maya was elusive. But Shridhar had a suspicion that expenses incurred by Kumar during and after marriage were the real reason. Shridhar felt that he himself would have done the same thing, save money even if it meant giving up petty joys. Shridhar consoled his wife. Kumar's stature in the eyes of Shridhar went up considerably.

But all came down when, in one of the phone calls, Maya excitedly told them of the newly purchased car and explained the features in detail. She was too excited to realize the 'sadness' at the other end of the phone. However hard Shridhar tried to explain this phenomenon, he failed to convince himself. He could not think of a convincing reason which could justify replacement of a 3 year old 'ancient' car at the cost of meeting the parents.

***********************************
The end of second year was a time of joy. Earlier that year Maya had joined a local bank. With the double income, said Maya, they could afford a trip to India every year. This plan was also executed successfully. With arrival of Maya, Sunanda could not contain her happiness. What excited Sunanda even more was the silently announced news that Maya was expecting. The prospects of becoming a grandmother made Sunanda almost dance around the house. The spirit was dampened a little when she realised that Maya would be having the baby in the US. Maya had asked for Sunanda's help. Sunanda was skeptical as it not only involved traveling alone to US, but also because Shridhar would be left alone at home, the first time in their 25 years of marriage. A little cajoling and emotional blackmailing by Maya was sufficient to convince Sunanda. A compromise was reached that Sunanda would stay in US only till the child was 3 months old. Maya happily agreed.


***********************************
Tara was a silent child since her birth. She never cried much and had a kind of satisfied look on her face. This amazed everybody. Her grandmother, Sunanda, was pampering her from day she came back from the hospital. Sunanda was taking care of Tara as Maya was not adept at handling the baby. What worried Sunanda was that Maya was not even interested in learning and was happy letting Sunanda take care of the child. After some nagging, Sunanda had given up on Maya thinking that Maya will have learn to take care of the kid, once Sunanda leaves. Tara's third month-birthday was approaching and Sunanda was looking forward to going back home, although going afar from Tara made her sad.

Shridhar on the other hand was suffering, although this fact was happily omitted during their weekly phone calls. He was missing the daily comforting talks, her cooking and although he hated to admit it, her very presence. It was easy to get depressed when alone. The first few days after Sunanda left were easy for Shridhar as he was invited for dinners and lunches by his many friends and family. Time passed very quickly as social interactions eased the lonelyness. But soon Shridhar was forced to decline the invitations as he felt he was intruding too much on the hospitality. He started cooking on his own and soon realised it was not an easy task. He soon got bored of cooking. However he also realised that his age was catching up and that he could not digest restaurant food too often. He started eagerly waiting for Sunanda to return.

***********************************
It all started with a phone call from Maya's boss asking her to join back the job immediately. He had canceled the remaining three months of leave. Maya felt that only option will be to resign. This had put Maya and Kumar in a fix. They were discussing about hiring a Nanny to take care of Tara. And Kumar was worrying about the cost. And this was the reason why Maya had once again cajoled Sunanda into extending her stay. But all this was not known to Sunanda when Maya had desparately declared her inability to look after a 3 month old child if Sunanda returned according to the plan. Maya said that she was worried that Tara would suffer. This pushed Sunanda into considering to extend her stay.

Sunanda took the decision to extend her trip with a heavy heart. Sunanda was worried of Tara as she genuinely felt Maya was not capable mother. This tilted the matter in favour of Sunanda staying. As a formality Shridhar's permission was taken, but Sunanda knew that Shridhar could never refuse her request. It was only after Maya joined back, that Sunanda realised the real reason. The plan of hiring Nanny was never acted upon.

The day Sunanda decided to stay on in US, Shridhar slept hungry. He did not feel like cooking nor going out. He spent the next day in the bed, eating biscuits and drinking milk. It took him more than a week before he came back to behaving normally. Shirdhar had lost many kilos from his otherwise healthy frame by the time Sunanda returned.

***********************************
Fast forward 5 years. Shridhar had just retired and was looking forward to Maya coming home. She had not come home for 3 years now. Some or other reason had pre-empted their plans, but she had assured them that they will surely come this time. They were looking forward to meeting Tara, who was 5 years old now. Although the Maya would not be coming for 2 months atleast, Shridhar had started preparing, first by painting the house and then by cleaning inside out.

Phone rang. It was Maya at the other end. And she had a bad news and a good news. The bad news was that Maya would not be coming. Although it was a disappointment, the reason was that she was expecting again, and doctor had recommended no travel. And Maya wanted her mothers help with the baby. Sunanda was more than happy to help this time. Shridhar had retired and hence neither she had to travel alone, nor he would have to stay alone back in India. Suddenly a flurry of activity started, Shridhar was more excited than Sunanda, for this was his first foriegn visit. He started collecting the bags and had informed half the town of their plans when another phone call changed his plans once more.

************************************
Sunanda boarded the flight alone. Even now she could hear the voice of Maya telling them that Kumar is not able to pay for Shirdhar's ticket. He could hardly manage for Sunanda's travel. She could still see the disappointment in Shridhar's face. And she could still remember the fortnight she had spent trying to decide on whether to go alone. She could not let Maya suffer for mistakes of Kumar. And she was eager to see Tara again. But then Kumar's behavior was unpardonable. On the other hand, after having spend most of the savings for the dowry, Shridhar could hardly afford sponsoring himself. It was Shridhar who resolved the dilemma by asking her to go and help Maya. "We should not let children suffer for the mistake of their parents." And hence she had agreed to travel. All she wanted to was to come back as soon as possible.

************************************

Tara was afraid of all the noise in the house. She chose to hide behind the curtain in her bedroom. Sunanda had become her favorite grandmother. Partly because she had not met any other grandmother but also because this grandmother told lots of stories and prepared all her favorite dishes. And most importantly, she never scolded her. She had gone to a zoo with grand-ma. This was not her first visit to the zoo, but this was her best. Grand-ma had a different story about each animal in the zoo. That moment she had decided that grand-ma should never go back. But today she could see her grand-ma sitting outside in the cold, shivering.

The baby was crying loudly, mother and father were arguing about something,while grandmother was sitting outside in the snow as if the cold could not harm her. Tara was wondering how quickly the house could turn into chaos.

Everything was normal till the evening. The baby was almost one month old now and playing all by itself. Grandmother was in the kitchen preparing something when the phone rang. The phone conversation suddenly turned serious and grandmother lost all the color from her face first and then she lost her cool. Grandfather had been admitted to hospital due to food poisoning.

Sunanda wanted to go back immediately. She pleaded with Kumar to get her tickets of the same day. Kumar said he would check. Sunanda started packing her bags. Outside there was an argument. 'If you are not going to tell her, I am going to.' Maya said. Maya entered the room with a serious face, and tried to convince her mother to stay. When Sunanda tried explaining that she was needed to take care of Shridhar, tempers rose. 'Do you know if you go now, how much the nanny will cost us? We have been planning for this new house for past 5 years. If we hire a nanny now, we cannot buy that house, we cannot afford both the mortgage and the pay. All because of silly emotion of yours.''

Maya banged the door and walked out. Sunanda felt light headed. She sat down on the bed for a moment. And then reality which had eluded her over past few years finally dawned on her. The truth behind Maya was revealed. Maya was never like this. She was putting down a price on husband wife relation. She was putting owning a house in front of need of her father. Maya was not her daughter any more, she had changed . Sunanda walked out of the room and soon out of the house. She sat as if in a trance in freezing cold. Tara watched all this from behind the curtain, peeking. Kumar insisted that Maya apologize to her mother immediately and ask her to come in. Maya flatly refused. Kumar tried to request Sunanda to come in to discuss. Sunanda did not respond. And it was freezing cold outside.

It was Tara who called the 911. Soon the paramedics arrived and helped Sunanda. She was taken to a local hospital where a social worker gave her shelter for the night. Kumar booked the tickets for the next day. Sunanda never returned to Maya's home. She went directly to India without meeting Maya. Shridhar's health had improved considerably by the time Sunanda reached India. But he still needed care.

Maya did not speak to Sunanda till Shridhar's death which occurred few years ago. Sunanda had not pardoned herself for deserting (in her own words) Shridhar when he needed her most. After Shridhar's death, Maya did not come to meet her mother. She tried talking to Sunanda over phone but Sunanda refused. As for Tara, the image of her grandmother sitting in cold stayed with her although she never again talked to her grandmother. She was her favorite grandmother forever.

A couple of her nieces and nephews offered her to come stay with them, but after what she considered betrayal of her own daughter, any offer of help was looked upon with suspicion. Afraid of living alone, she finally decided to move into this old-age home.

Nirmala smiled knowingly, "And so she continues staying here, may be till the end." Although Nirmala was smiling, her eyes were fixed far away. They definitely looked sad. This story had a deja-vu factor, almost every person in this home had a story, a sad story.

**************************************
Just then Sunanda entered the room, having been informed by the attender. She was smiling. The young lady concluded, "Now to answer your question, I am not her daughter", she held her arms out towards Sunanda, "I am her grand-daughter. And I have come back to take care of my grandmother. She will be living with me from now onwards."

It was for the first time in many years of managing the old age home, that Nirmala experienced the joy of saying goodbye with a genuine smile.