Lonely..

He felt devastated. This couldn't have happened. He couldn't have lost his soul mate-his best friend-someone who had been with him since he was 15.

Those stupid doctors, he thought. Bastards. Couldn't they have done something?? Wasn't there any other way out?? How dare they leave him alone and isolated in this world??

The pain in his abdomen is more severe now. He needs a glass of water. He goes to his personal bar in the drawing room and takes out a bottle from the freezer. It was in this bar that he and his dear friend had spent all their evenings. They had shared their lives-their joys, sorrows, eccentricities; all here.

But the bar is empty today. His only friend and companion-the monk-the Old Monk Rum is gone. The doctors have taken him away and have 'barred' him from having even a drop of alcohol. His liver has become the size of a football.

The doctors don't think that he has got more than six months left in him now. This fact makes him feel suicidal.

He kneels down to pray-something he hasn't done for as long as he can remember. It's time now to be friends with God.

                                               "Something sinister in the tone
                                                Told my secret must be known;
                                                Word I was in the house alone
                                                Somehow must have gotten abroad,
                                                Word I was in my life alone,
                                                Word I had no one left but God."
                                                                                                         -Robert Frost

Looking Back Part-II: 10 Pointers.

I am sitting in the common room of the GT Hostel, Tata Steel, Jamshedpur. All around me are my new ‘colleagues’, fresh graduates from other colleges. They are all sitting in groups, talking animatedly, and as I strain my ears, I hear them reminiscing about their college days - about their hostels, gyms, mid-sems & heart-breaks. My thoughts instantly go back to my college days and I realize that many of our memories were based on similar things – friends, bikes, places, girls and of course, alcohol.

Then I jotted down 10 ‘pointers’ which are closest to my heart. It’s not like – “I miss you so much” kind of thing, but during certain instances and circumstances, the memory tapes play out in front of my eyes, and I, unknowingly, bask in their glory.

1. Dhabas: We made lot of trips to the dhabas in and around Raipur during our 4^th year of engineering. A particular favourite was ‘Apna Dhaba’, situated 6 kms away from our hostel on the Raipuir-Bhilai Highway. And as soon as someone got placed, or if there was a birthday, chalo be chalte hain. So, on our scooters and bikes and stopping at the ashram (:P) on the way, we roared to the dhabas. It was always a challenge riding back, heavily drunk and all, but then that was fun as well.

Apna Dhaba

2. Ragging: The events related to ragging, whether you are a victim or the culprit, always remain etched in your memory. No one forgets the first ragging he encountered or the first student he bullied. During our first year, we huddled quietly in our rooms and waited for the clock to strike 10 p.m. It would then be time for the knocks on the doors and high drama unfolded throughout the night. During our second year, we tried to hand over the legacy to our juniors, so to say. Memories related to ragging are always special and bring back mixed emotions.

3. Hostel Parties: 'Saturday-night-party-tight' was our motto. And what with tandoori chicken and rum and beer, followed by a lot of singing and dancing, we often ran short of Saturdays. I miss those parties, period. 

4. F-36: This was our class room (First floor, Room no.-36) for three out of four years at NIT Raipur. This was a small-sized room and ideal for our small batch of 42. Whenever I think of it, I can pinpoint exactly that on any day who would be sitting where and doing what. There weren’t any air conditioners, projectors and stuff, but who needed those things??.

F-36. Are they studying?? :P

5. Sunday-Special: I eat specials almost everyday now, but those Sunday Specials at the mess in the hostel were absolutely super-special. It was a special lunch served on Sundays consisting of a chicken dish for non vegetarians and paneer for vegetarians with puri, fried rice and sweets. We ate like anything. In fact, what a sight it was - 100-150 hungry students sitting next to each other, sweating in the hot stuffy mess, gnawing at chicken bones.

Mess, Hostel-B, An engrossed audience.

6. Class Tests: We had regular class tests, which were aimed at preparing us for the very important end sem exams. I wonder whether that purpose was ever accomplished. However, one thing was sure; they offered us exposure in team work, ingenuity improvisation. Need I explain more?


7. Mera Bajaj: Oh boy! Do I miss this thing? My heart aches for my scooter. It was a Bajaj Super, 1995 model which I purchased second hand at the beginning of my 3^rd year. It was my best buddy and as reliable a friend can be. 

Bajaj Super. Pic taken on last day in Raipur. 8th May, 2011

8. Ashram: Ashram was a misnomer to us. Really. It was a locality, just a couple of kilometers away from our hostel. It had its name due to the famous Ramakrishna Ashram situated there. However, for us, it was a very important place. It housed the biggest liquor shops in Raipur. Thus we made regular visits to the place in quest of a spiritually satisfying life :D.


9. Kota: Kota is a small locality just outside the Western boundary on the other side of the Mum-Hwh Railway Line. It was our second home in Raipur. Whenever we needed something, we went to Kota, crossing the tracks, the Saraswati Nagar Railway Station and the wayside Egg Roll Stalls. From photocopying to samosas to boiled eggs, everything was available. Not to mention the delicious dosas which were available in the mornings at the South Indian stall. Though it was a shanty, poor locality; it meant the world to us.

10. For the tenth pointer, I am not providing any sub heading. It’s just this picture. The characters in this pic were the ones who made life worth living out there. And it is for them that life is still worth living .

Pankaj Yadav & Shriprakash Bharti. 3rd year, Hostel-A

Looking Back Part-I: Placements

JSPL Campus. 27th November, 2011

The underlining principle of Engineering, or for that matter any other professional course is the placements involved with it and after 4 long, hard years at NIT Raipur, one does really expect to be placed at a great company. This is how the placement scenario of our batch, which passes out in a couple of weeks time, looks like.

I was extremely fortunate to have been a part of this placement process and there is simply no doubt in my mind that my association with the Placement Cell as a representative of my branch was the best thing that ever happened to me in my life.

My two years of hectic but highly enriching and gratifying stint as a Placement Coordinator comes down to this list.

Metallurgy, 2011 (Total Strength : 42)

1. ArcelorMittal Dhamm Processing. Date: 10th September, 2010

• Dhivya Raghavan

2. Tata Steel. Date:  26th September, 2010(Written Test), 21st October(Interviews)

• Subhendu Barik
• Souvik Chatterjee

3. Jindal Steel & Power Ltd. Date: 27th November, 2010

• Manish Kumar Nihichlani
• Md. Dilkash Azam
• Prasenjit Sarkar
• Suyash Dhar Diwan
• Rahul Sippy
• Bhupendra Kumar Sahu
• Wasif Hussain Khan

4. Cognizant Technology Solutions. Date: 1st December, 2010

• Himanshu Saha
• M. Poshit Nag

5. Ispat Industries. Date : 10th December, 2010

• Vishal Soni
• Rakesh Gunjan
• Vijay Hajare
• Avinash Giri

6. Capgemini. Date : 27th December, 2010

• Md. Usman Khan

7. TVS Motors. Date : 28th December, 2010(Written Test), 12th January, 2011(Interviews)

• Piyush Chandrakar

8. Essar. Date : 4th & 5th January, 2011

• Palanivel Sivanesh
• Saroj Kr. Katyayan
• Saurabh Chandrakar
• Raj Mishra
• Sudhaanshu Tanti
• Deepak Sahu
• Mukesh Sirmour
• Akshay Shingweker

9. Accenture Services Pvt. Ltd. Date : 11th January, 2011

• Manvizhi.V

10. Monnet Group. Date : 18th January, 2011

• Sourav Kr. Panda
• Anirruddha Malakar
• Pradeep Pal
• Ankita Khare

11. Jindal South West Steel. Date : 15th March, 2011 (Interviews at company location, Tornagallu)

• Senthil Nadar
• Nikhil Bhuarya
• Teekam Gunendra
• Bhupendra Dewangan
• Rajeev Sahu

12. Sunflag Iron & Steel Company. Date : 7th April, 2011

• Vijay Verma

13. Bhushan Power & Steel Ltd. is scheduled in the 1st week of May.

My Valentine's Day

" Why don't we go out and celebrate today? It is Valentine's day you know". My wife Lovely hinted for the 20th time. I wanted to remind her that Valentine's Day is for teenagers and young couples and not for half century makers like us. But seeing her indomitable spirit, i gave in and decided to take her to the famous City Mall 36.

My scooter initially protested the additional 85 kilos that were going to be loaded on it but somehow I was able to persuade it to take us safely to our destination.

Before entering the Mall I fed Lovely 4 samosas from the chatwalla so that she would not ask to be fed again inside the mall, where it was horrifyingly costly.

At the Mall, I felt more embarrassed then romantic, seeing couples half the age of ourselves enjoy themselves. However my wife seemed very upbeat and suggested that we should watch a movie.

I showed her the cheapest show available: Dracula-2.

After the movie, shaken and scared by the spine-chilling scenes, I suggested whether we should return, but Lovely wanted to be taken to a restaurant and she was very adamant. She said " I am starving ".

I repented the 20 rupees I had spent on her samosas.

In the restaurant now, it was dark, and couples were freely romanticizing....getting cozy and all.

In the bluish light, after we were seated at a table, I saw to my utter astonishment and joy, my parents-in-law seated at a nearby table getting real close and romantic. I wondered about their reserves of hormones and without wasting a second, shot some really 'good' photos of theirs on my mobile phone.

Now I would get back to them for all the atrocities they had committed on me; as well as the Hero Honda that I deserved 20 years back.

I kissed my wife's hand - " Happy Valentine's Day".

To The Brightest of NIT Raipur..

1st question : Don't have the slightest idea.

2nd question: Remembering something of the answer, but am not sure.... whether the answer is that... or that... or??? :P

3rd question: I think it is out of syllabus.

4th question: I think there is something missing in the question...

This was the status of almost all the 10 questions that stared at me from the question paper. I had known that this was going to happen with me today and had therefore taken proper care to wear my shoes and socks (to hide my micro photocopies...:D )

I started copying the answers now.

Only a person who has been under such a situation can understand the nightmare that one goes through. Each hair of your body seems to be jumping on its end and each nerve vibrates as it is about to give away. You feel like the invigilator is looking at you from the corner of his eyes all the time and will catch you any moment now.... however i kept my resources of confidence and courage intact as i copied at a feverish pace.

Luck always fails me in tense situations and lady luck betrayed me once again when I saw Mr. Bajumdar and Mr. Bansal, two of the most dreaded flying squad profs entering the exam hall.

I tried to keep my body calm and my face expressionless but i am no actor and the two experienced fellows immediately caught me red handed at my job.

The moment was humiliating and painful beyond words. I had once been asked an eyesight certificate at the college and the 6/6 written on it started floating in front of my eyes.....(backlogs). I wanted to run away..... jump out of the window beside my seat.

"Why are you sleeping? Don't you want to submit your paper and go home?"The invigilator shook me up from my deep slumber.

I handed him the 2 marks worth answer sheet and said a silent prayer to God.......1/6 is always better than 6/6. (Arrears. :P)

Me & My Scooter...

She smiled.....I smiled.

Her beautiful face a bit annoyed, mine a bit apologetic and embarrassed. This had been my 30th kick but the scooter still hadn't shown any response, and it was with an extremely brave and resilient heart that I was still able to look up at the face of my new girlfriend.

She did not smile.....I smiled.

Her face was growing cold and angry now. Mine looking more pitiful, helpless and ashamed as ever. I had kicked it 50 times by now and slowly my friends and fellow students gathering around had started to make a mockery of us, joking and laughing from a distance. By now i had started planning to abandon both my scooter and my girlfriend and run away to some dark and isolated corner where no one would be able to see me....

She smiled.....I did not, could not smile.

Pride, self importance, ego, showed on her face. Mine showed tragedy, disaster. I had no strength left to kick now, and with a bleeding heart, I saw my biggest rival Pankaj come in with his Karizma, offer her lift and zoom away with her; leaving behind a cloud of smoke for me to hide myself.

He drove her to Cafe Coffee Day and I, after the smoke had subsided, with a broken heart and a bruised ego, made the long walk back to the mechanic...

To Marry or Not to Marry.....

Since childhood, I don't know due to what particular reason, I favoured bachelorhood over marriage. It may have been just a whimsical prejudice of my mind, but after I saw both my maternal uncle as well as my elder cousin opting for bachelorhood and deciding to remain single throughout their lives, this prejudice of mind became a concrete realization and belief. They were stern men and kept up their promises. I wanted to be one of them.

I however, after a lot of coaxing and begging by my parents, instigation by my friends and humiliating reprimands by uncles and aunties, agreed to do what I hadn't visualized myself doing: marry. I decided to tie the nuptial knot, thereby ending my highly cherished bachelorhood of 31 years.

Well how stupid I was to have changed my decision. it was as if I had slept at Goa and woken up at Pakistan. I was like a bird with clipped wings soon after marriage. Late night movies, bar outings, long biking trips with friends had suddenly become things of the past. Like with a slight turn of the kaleidoscope, the picture had changed completely. I had ceased to fit into the company of my old bachelor friends who had given me up as lost cause and now jeered at me behind my back.

The true picture, however emerged when my wife left to me visit her parents for a month. Keeping up with regular household chores like laundry, paying bills, buying groceries and supervising home maids was no joke. Meals had to be prepared or just skipped. The house wore an abandoned look all around.

The fragrances of her talcum and perfume were missing. And so were the feminine taunts and giggles. I longed for these moments and wandered from shop to shop in markets, searching for that matching set of bangles, which i would toy with while she snored softly lying with her hand across my chest.

A Cup of Coffee

Over a cup of coffee Mr. Kumar had just begin to relax.....

The rhythmic pattering of the rain drops felt good to his ears and the weather seemed very romantic to him. This was the rainy season in Mumbai, his favourite and he would give up his fortune to sit like this – feet up on an easy chair having coffee, listening to the raindrops and thinking about his special friend.

Mr. Kumar, 24, an I.T professional lived with his parents in Andheri West. Today was a Saturday and having spent the entire morning in seeing off his parents at the airport and the entire afternoon at the Pizza Hut with his ‘friend’, he was now enjoying this lone evening at home.

As he brought the coffee near his face to take a second sip, his smile faded away from his lips. A fly was floating in the coffee and had made it unsuitable to drink. Stupid fly, Mr. Kumar thought, this was the only place it had gotten for itself. Now, however there was no option but to make another cup for himself. Going towards the kitchen it dawned to him that there was no coffee powder left and that he would have to go to the grocery shop in the locality if he wished to have some.

Therefore taking his umbrella with him, he stepped on the street only to find himself standing in knee deep water. His determination got the better of his fear and the rapidly developing frustration; thus forcing him to wade through the water. He had gone a fair distance when suddenly he felt the ground under him give away and he stumbled into a pit. Putting in all his resources he somehow managed to come out of the hole now wet upto the chest. The rain was battering on his face now and he suddenly realized that he didn’t have his umbrella any more. He searched frantically near him for some moments but it was nowhere to be seen. Feeling as miserable as ever he dragged himself ahead.

Mr. Kumar was still abusing the BSNL guys about the pit when he reached the shop. A lightening struck him when the shopkeeper told him that he had no coffee left. With an aching heart and aching legs he somehow limped back to his door.

As soon as he returned home he rushed to the bathroom to clean himself up. It was there that he realized that in his misadventure, he had subjected his N-95 mobile to water while he was carrying it in his pocket. Also his wallet and its contents had met with a similar fate.

Now out of the bathroom feeling more morose and crestfallen than ever. Mr. Kumar’s eyes fell on the cup of coffee with the fly in it. He grabbed it, picked the fly out of it, reheated it and had made himself comfortable again- sitting feet up in his easy chair. Sipping the coffee which tasted much better to him now, he was beginning to relax and feel comfortable again; except that he was hardly able to think about his ‘friend’ now and the weather didn’t seem to be at all romantic to him.

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”…