Round and round in circles

I was tired of school now.

Same stuff everyday- homework, tests, quizzes, exams and due to them failures, humiliations, criticisms leading to gloominess, depressions; “I will not bear the brunt of school anymore”, I decided. This fresh remonstration of my mind was triggered by a new assignment we, class tenth students had been given. “Write an article on ‘round and round in circles’ and submit it tomorrow” our class teacher had said.

Now lying on bed at 10 o’clock, I hadn’t the slightest idea of how to do it. I decided to kick the assignment out of mind and bring in Katrina Kaif, my new infatuation. She had been fabulous in her last flick “Singh is king” and I was just more than impressed by her.

I tried to sleep now, wishing that Katrina would come in my dreams, but something was disturbing me. I looked at the ceiling fan; it was making a rhythmically irritating sound. I looked at it more clo0sely now- it was going round and round in circles…….. I fell asleep.

I was walking towards my ancestral home in Sitamarhi district in Bihar when I saw a beautiful lady, dressed in a sari, come towards me. No sooner had I realized that it was my favourite Katrina, my head started spinning round and round in circles. I was wondering whether she is here for a film or a vacation or a ….., when her voice brought me back to my senses. She asked me if I knew the way to the “Annual agricultural fair” which took place every year in my village. Taking the bull by its horns I asked if she would accompany me to the fair.

I was still apprehensive while talking to her but her easygoing and friendly manner calmed me down immensely. I was more interested and absorbed in the activities taking place than I had ever been in my life before. There was much diversity and social fervour as you would ever get any where else in India. The snake charmer with his snakes coiled round and round in circles, the top spinner with his variety of tops spinning round and round in circles, the sugarcane man who produced gallons of sugarcane juice with his with his rapidly spinning round and round juice maker; all were crowd gatherers. Children were running round and round in circles and men folk, gathered round in circles were entertaining their dark interests. Katrina’s exclamation of joy at every nook and corner also assured me that I was in for a good time this evening.

We reached a merry go round and she insisted that we must go for a ride in it. I would have jumped in well if she asked, a well was incomparable. The ride took us round and round in circles many times and sitting alongside her I felt more elated than I had ever felt in my life.

Back on the street again and walking past hordes of villagers, I was relishing the different expressions on the people’s faces as they saw us on the street. Some were astonished, some envious and others simply anxious to see the empress of a million hearts walk with me.

Then we went for adjacent seats in a toy train which would take us round and round the fair three times showing all the handicrafts, consumable items and cattle which have been put up for sale at various places.

The sun had almost set now and ominous black clouds were hovering above the horizon. We had almost covered every inch of the fair now and I had started wondering if I should invite her to dinner at home with my parents, when suddenly at a distance I saw a huge tornado moving towards us at a lurid pace. it was destroying everything that came its way. I became panic stricken, my feet got glued to the ground and with a sinking heart I witnessed the impending danger as the tornado moving round and round in circles approached us. 

All of a sudden, dust surrounded us. Katrina tried to hold on to me but the storm threw us into empty space. After an eternity the storm subsided and I opened my eyes expecting to see the beautiful face of Katrina all smeared and mottled with dirt now, but all my eyes registered was the scene of complete devastation. I started searching for her now; I ran to the wreckage of the food stall, to the overturned merry go round; I was weeping now- “Katrina”, I shouted……. 

I woke up with a start. Suddenly remembering the dream, my eyes fell on the ceiling fan. I got up and switched it off. I had had enough of round and round in circles. I skipped the assignment.

Returning Home

I had never felt happier before…not for quite some time….

The announcement for the Durg Chhapra Express had been done and I, standing on platform no.-5 with two bags and a heart full of nostalgia could hardly wait to reach home. I was returning home after 1st semester and it had been tough…to stay away from the love and importance one got at home; and in completely alien and sometimes hostile conditions… to survive on mess’ food which even a beggar would refuse to eat…to bear the humiliation and severe mental trauma one faced during ragging…and to live in an horror and trepidation where one does not know when one may incur a backlog. But now everything was immaterial, inconsequential…I was going home…I was going to my family…

The platform was completely crowded and the people present seemed to be more or less happy. I wondered if there would be anyone happier than me out there, anyone more satisfied with life at present than I was.

The train arrived and I settled myself on my designated upper berth. I was not hungry at all; the euphoria of going home had quietened my stomach. I tried to sleep but my thoughts went back to my home again…what I would do when I reach there…I would meet my friends…I would boast about my college and the excellent facilities it provided…about my hostel life…about the fictitious girl in my life…about the new feats I had achieved…about the ragging I had bravely encountered here, yes…they would be spellbound, my friends at the village. I would sleep properly, I decided. The bed I shared with my dad back home was so comfortable…and…and I would eat well, whatever I was given at home. I had realized completely now that nothing in the world tasted as good as food prepared at home. The rice and dal tasted so delicious at home that you wouldn’t need anything else…and the chicken curry that my dad cooked on Sundays…..

I tried to sleep now, I would be much closer to home by morning.
Morning gave way to afternoon and when we reached Allahabad at 2 p.m, I was feeling quite at home. My heart beat faster as I saw the familiar sights of the paddy fields, sugarcane plantations and the small villages passing rapidly by.

Night fell; bringing with the assurance that home was at arm’s length now. Occasionally as the passengers opened their tiffin boxes to eat their dinners, the smell invigorated my hunger and watered my mouth to such an extent that I had to repeatedly convince myself that I would be home soon and would get to devour as much of food as I wanted.

I reached my intermediate station Chhapra at 12 o’clock and was just in time for the last government bus to Gopalganj. In the jerking motions of the rickety bus, I thought about my mother…had she missed me…yes, she would definitely had…a mother always misses her son…I wondered whether there has been any change in me…and whether my dad would be able to detect any…

I awoke as the bus reached Gopalganj. Alighting from the bus in the bluish grey light of the dawn, I saw my dad standing at the far end of the depot. How he might have lived…alone…all these days…never mind; now that I am here, we will bring the old days back…even if for a month only…cooking, cleaning, roaming and all the things that two old friends, two roommates do…
Hiding his tears, as always, he grabbed a bag from me, held my hand and said “let’s go home”…