In this crazy world of mine, I do get some time to make sense and sensibility my friends, though it has to be just for sometime.....
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
The 14Th Floor
“Yeah right” I answered.
The address was so skimpy I wondered how to reach the place. At least the dumb of a secretary gave me the name of building and society. I looked at 20 something storey building and one wall full of names of the residents. I looked closely at it and I was dumbfounded when I saw that on 14th Floor there was a Mr. S Roy and on 15th floor another Mr. S.K. Roy. Which one is it I wondered? I quickly called the office, phone just kept ringing. I looked at my watch it was only seven thirty, does nobody work overtime? I cursed the secretary a couple of times loudly. I called my colleague, no answer from him either. Now he had no choice but to gamble and choose a flat. He got into the elevator with a woman. She pressed the button for 9th floor and I just kept standing there deciding which floor to go, she gave me disgusted look. She got off on 9th floor and I quickly pressed the 14th floor button. I looked at myself in the mirror, my hair was disheveled, and I combed them in place with my fingers. He tucked his shirt in properly. I did not consider myself handsome but I was definitely smart enough. It was not difficult to find his flat. There were just two on each floor. He practiced his apologies if it was the wrong Roy’s house. His fingers trembled when he pushed the bell.
The door opened after few seconds. As soon as it did, my breath got stuck somewhere. My eyes glued to the girl who opened the door. She was barefoot with shiny silver toes and anklet on one of her feet. She was wearing a flowery skirt and a black singlet. Her black curls fell like feather on her shoulder. She tilted her head questioning at me. I realized I was staring and recovered quickly. “I am… Ranjit” I stammered
“eshona” she said in a sweet Bengali accent.
I assumed she asked me in and walked in. The room was decorated in austere cluttering, I assumed from Bengal. What a stunning beauty Mr. Roy has, I wondered. I no more felt sorry for this trip. I sat down and asked her, “Mr. Roy?”
“Oh daddy? He just left with Mom.” She smiled, “Would you like something to drink? It must be really hot outside.”
I nodded my answer; I could not get myself to speak.
“Would you like coffee or chilled coke?”
“A chilled coke please.” I answered. She left me to fetch the drink. I realized that I had to find out whether it was the correct house. There was soft music playing behind she came back with two tall glasses of coke. She plopped herself opposite me and said, “I think he was expecting you. He mentioned something but I had my headphones on …” she smiled naughtily.
I sighed in relief I got myself in the right house.
“So Ranjit, what do you do?” she asked.
“I am currently working as business analyst. I just joined a week back.” I paused, “May I know your name?”
“Oh how silly, I assumed you would know. I am Riddima, but everybody calls me ‘Mishti’.”
“What would that mean?”
“Mishti? It means sweet.” She giggled and further explained, “We Bengali’s have a habit of keeping funny pet names.”
“But I must say though it may sound like a cliché to you. For a sweet person like you, the names appropriate.” She had the decency to blush. I quickly asked her, “So what kind of funny pet names do you guys have?”
“Oh you would hear some like, Hego, Teko, Bubun, chumki, Chuku, tuli and now if you have read the book ‘Namesake’ gogol seems like the favorite funny name.” she laughed and it was contagious as even I did.
“Then comparatively you have good pet name.” she beamed.
“Are you in a hurry Ranjit? I mean do you have anything planned ahead.”
Actually I dint and an opportunity like this should never be denied. “No do you have something in mind?”
“Wow,” she clapped hands like a small girl, “why don’t you stay for dinner, meanwhile we could play a game of scrabble, what do you say?”
“It sounds good, but you would have to teach me how to play I have forgotten, I have not played for years.”
Of course who does not know how to play scrabble? I played this game every school vacation of my schooldays. We played the game revealing bits and pieces of each others lives. She mentioned about her childhood and how they had stayed in much smaller home, she had so much fun that time. Now hardly her cousins came over. He narrated his migration from Allahbad to Mumbai in search of higher paying jobs.
Conversation spilled over the cozy Bengali dinner which the maid had cooked. They had maid from kolkatta. I was amazed. It was nearing 11 on the watch. He had outstayed his privilege. They exchanged their numbers when the bell rang. A half bald man in his fifties and a good-looking middle aged woman walked in. Oh, I thought, Mr. and Mrs. Roy. I stood up to greet them. I saw a frown crossing Mr. Roy’s face. Before I could say anything, he asked, “Who is he?” the question was directed towards his daughter.
I answered for her, “Mr. Roy, I am Ranjit Chowdhry from Trendz.” Then I remembered the package and I removed the CD’s. “I was here to deliver the data CD’s to you.”
“Whom are you talking about, I don’t know you and I don’t know anything about the Trendz and the CD’s.” his voice changed threateningly, “what have you been doing here?”
Mishti looked confused, “But daddy you said that somebody was coming home…”
“Yes but that was Debashish, my friends son. Not him. For once if you would just listen to me Mishti….”
Now was the time to say the apologies I had practiced earlier, somehow I could not remember them.
“I am sorry Mr. Roy, this is a terrible confusion, I think I had to deliver the parcel to Mr. Roy on 15th Floor.”
I took the cue and opened the door to go out. I once looked back and saw a glaring Mr. Roy, confused Mrs. Roy and the best part, smiling Mishti.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
HOPE
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Nivi's Day Out
I traveled by bus after a long time. I saw things which I usually would not have otherwise. I saw a small church just over some bridge towards the town side which I feel is not hundred years old but quiet antiquated. I saw a new construction near Haji Ali and thought to myself not another mall. It is just few days before the derby and the race course seemed beautiful. I would have missed all this if I had not travelled in bus.
I was not sure of the way to library as I had just been once there before. The music was humming in my ears and I had no plans. I reach the library and purposefully march towards the stacks of book. I suddenly feel dizzy with all the books around me. I closed my eyes and took deep breaths. It wasn't the books but I did not want to analyse my dizzy spell. I slowly kept moving and reading just the titles and finally picked up some books and moved out.
I kept wondering how should I go home and from where. But moving from library I had my glares on and I kept walking. In retrospect, I had too many memories flowing in and that is when I thought......
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Go Read "The Kite Runner"
I was just waiting to pick it up and start reading. Once I did start reading, the only time I would have kept it down would be when I had become extremely hungry and could not resist but eat my food. The author has been explicit about the characters potrayed in the book. The friendship of Amir and Hassan followed by the feeling of betrayal of this same friendship. I could feel the conflict Amir felt when he had let-down Hassan for his own benediction. Just because he wanted to see the twinkle of recognition in his father's eyes for him.
He could see his friendship coming to an end, as he could not even meet Hassan's eyes. Hassan being the servants son was benign soul. He was aware of Amir's betrayal but yet he had forgiven him. Amir's guilty indulgence makes him send Hassan packing away. His father feels very dejected with their departure.
Soon afterwards due to invasion of Russians Amir and his father have to flee from Afgainstan. They go to the famous USA..thereafter Amir is a changed man.
But something calls him back to Afganistan something now he needs to pay for after so many years for one betrayal.
Mr Hosseini has taken us through Amir's all kind of emotions of friendship, authority, betrayal, new life, love, and in the end his sense of redemption.
With inordinate compassion and stunning simplicity, Mr Hosseini portrays Amir's impossible dilemma. Complications abound, but the answer lies in humanity's capacity for kindness. The grace of acceptance heals the wounds of brutality, for with forgiveness anything is possible, even the wild joy of soaring kites against a winter sky.
So I suggest Please go and read Kite Runner
Can't Let You Go
Now time has come
To let you go
To soon become lonesome
And there is memory flow
When things went wrong
You were there to make me strong
You showed me right directions
And made necessary corrections
You are always there
To understand and care
You know me the best
surely better than the rest
Now I have to let go of the bond
Which I am so very fond
now I have nothing but to sigh
Over the days gone by
I know you have to go
Can't stop you from doing so
I know your heart says no
But the situations are your foe
This tie will not end here
Of which I am very sure
Because the bond is deep and strong
which will keep growing lifelong.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
To Part Ways
He called up and spoke. No, he was not able to speak. I am sure he felt like a bird whose wing had just been torn apart. I was overwhelmed with the feeling of imperceptible loss. I had to be strong and assure him he was going away for good. I know he had made decision after much thought. It would have been wretched to see him stagnant here without any opportunity to grow. I understood that but yet could not explain something inside me. We spoke for sometime and even had the spunk to crack a few jokes.
Later the whole day was a whirl of events I was not a part of and was just happened to be there because I had to be there. You guessed it right I was at work. I took the time off and sat with a friend whom I did not have to explain anything. It is the same magic I was already missing that with him I could sit quiet and he would understand. There are very few friends with whom you can do that. It hurts the most when they have to leave and go. Towards the end of the day when I was alone and could not stop myself anymore. Finally I broke down, when it actually hit me I never would be able to get those moments back again.
Small things, happy and sad moments we shared will be memories I would cherish forever. Times had come to part ways and yet hope to meet again which will keep us all going on and on….