Rameshwaram - my experiences

I decided to go to Rameshwaram. Alone, with nothing more than a backpack. But my husband was alarmed at this idea. When a celebrity can drown in a bathtub, the chances of me surviving the sea coast seemed bleak to him. So my darling husband accompanied me and with him came along the bickering. But I must say, he did a great job booking the tickets and planning the entire trip. I don't think I could have travelled without him. So we headed to Rameshwaram leaving my son with his both set of grand parents. At the airport, we missed our son dearly and he was the topic for most parts of our conversation. Thats when I realise that life changes after having children, we can never be the same husband and wife, instead we transform into father and mother. Here is the summary of the rest of our trip.

(March 16th)Hyderabad ----> Madurai (Flight via Chennai)
Madurai -----> Rameshwaram (Bus)

Rameshwaram:

For me, Rameshwaram was a just a holy place (for hindus) where Lord Ram dwelled along with the army of monkeys. My sole intention in going to Rameshwaram was to visit the temples, holy places and the historical Rama Sethu. But what I saw and experienced there was much more that I had expected. Rameshwaram is an island (in Bay of Bengal) thats connected with the mainland through the Pamban Bridge and Pamban rail tracks. We booked our stay at Jiwan Residency which faced the beach and was separated with the sea by just a road. In short it was an awesome view from the hotel. There were many boats docked at the coastline and nets spread to dry. To stand there and look at the endless sea and the drooping sky touch was like meditating. It was like viewing a massive art piece live.

The following day (March 17th), we visited the following places:

1. Satchi Hanuman temple: A very old and small temple of Hanuman/Bajrang Bali.

2. Ramar Padam/Ram Jharoka temple: This temple is on Gandhamadana parvatam and it is said that after defeating Ravan, Ram and Sita rested at this place. It is said that this place has Lord Ram's original footprints. But I was disappointed to see that it was a man made stone engraving not the original footprints.

3. Vibheesha Teertham/Kodanda Rama temple: this is the place where coronation of Vibheeshana was done.

4. Panchamukha Anjeneya temple: This is a temple that has an idol of the not so common 5 faced Hanuman. What is interesting about this temple is that it has the floating stones that were used to construct the Rama Setu. And I saw them floating. It might not be magic. But there must be some science behind it and I want to know the science involved.

5. Dhanushkodi beach: The drive to this beach itself was awesome. The thin stretch of long road had sea on either sides. This is the tip of land from where Lord Rama along with the monkeys has constructed the Rama Setu with floating stones. I was expecting the floating bridge to be available to a common man's sight and I had confirmed the existence of the bridge in the satellite image of google. But the fact is, the bridge is submerged in the sea (could be due to sea levels raising) but you can see formations of sand dunes on the bridge which lay irregularly above the sea level and lead us to Sri Lanka. I do believe this is the bridge constructed by the monkeys and engineered by Nala and Neel. Though I dont think the floating stones are a miracle. I strongly believe there is science involved behind the floating stones and we knew that science back those days. As per the local people we spoke to, the stones are made of limestone and are nothing but the coral stones. Though I saw many corals in the beach, none of them were floating like the ones at the Hanuman temple. When asked, the locals told me that the corals have to dried in sun for a couple of months for them to float. So, brought a tiny coral stone from the beach to confirm this theory. Most of my free time at Rameshwaram, I continued my investigation on the floating stones. Not like a scientist but rather like a common googler.

6. Viloondi teertham: This place has a small spring of fresh water right beside the sea. It is believed that Lord Ram quenched Sita's thirst at this place.

7. Krishna Temple: This is a temple maintained by a Gujarati Trust and I must say it is well maintained. Also, to see a bunch of Gujaratis living in Rameshwaram came as a surprise to me. Rameshwaram showed me how prejudiced I was in many ways. I, who thought Rameshwaram to be nothing more than a religious place for hindus also found that Rameshwaram has good number of Muslim and Christian population. It also has water sports. This came as a surprise to me. It meant that I need not go to Andaman for snorkelling.

8. Ranganatha Swamy temple and Agniteertham: This is the temple, where Lord Ram has installed a Shiva Linga and prayed to Lord Shiva after the war with Ravana. Agniteertham is part of the sea right in front of the temple. It is a common belief that bathing in agniteertham and the 22 wells of the Ranganatha Swamy temple cleanses one of his/her sins. I didn't bath anywhere other than our hotel's bathroom. I want to carry my sins on my shoulders to my grave. The fact that I couldn't see the Rama Setu hit me hard and any local I could strike a conversation with, I had asked if there were boats that could take us to the bridge but never got a positive reply. In one such attempt, I asked one person at the prasadam counter.

Me: Rama Setu, how to go?
Stranger: Yes yes. Dhanushkodi.
Me: From Dhanushkodi to Rama setu. How to go?
Stranger: No Rama Setu. Pura in Sea. (he meant it was in sea)
Me: Sand. We can see. (I meant the sand dunes)
Stranger: Yes.
Me: no boat to take us there?
Stranger: BOAT no. BUS yes.
Husband: Apparently there is a bus that will take you to Rama Setu. Would you like to go? He teased.

9. Abdul Kalam memorial: This place was the most crowded place in Rameshwaram. This shows what a man Kalam was and what place he holds in our hearts. The memorial has memories from Kalam's days at ISRO and DRDO. It has a brief description of Kalam's childhood. In short, this memorial provides a glimpse of Kalam's life. It has Kalam's wax statues, grave and his belongings that carried for his last meeting at Shillong. Here, I chanced at reading the poem "My mother" written my Kalam and was moved to tears. I came out of the building with a heavy heart.


I might have missed out couple of other places. But this is all I remember as its almost a week since my tour. But there were few experiences that are worth sharing or rather blogging I must say.

Auto/Cab drivers: My husband is always interested in politics of the nation, state or region. So this is what he uses as a weapon to strike a conversation with the cab drivers. Unlike the Hyderabadi drivers, the drivers at Tamilnadu are less aquainted with hindi. So while conversing with the drivers, we can't talk long sentences in hindi/english. Instead, my husband speaks in broken sentences, pausing as often as the situation demands.

Husband : "Which party, strong?"
Driver 1: confused look.
Husband: "Amma party or Karunanidhi party?"
Driver 1: beams and says Karunanidhi. Entire Tamilnadu Karunanidhi.
Husband : Kamal Hassan and Rajini new parties? Who will win?
Driver 1: no more interested.
Husband: winks at me and says "He must be a huge fan of Karunanidhi."

Husband: "Which party strong here?" to another driver.
Driver 2: "Amma party" and is happy that an outsider is interested in their politics
Husband: "Stalin?"
Driver 2: confused.
Husband: "Stalin good guy? bad guy?"
Driver 2: says something in tamil, hindi and english mixed
Husband: speaks somthing in hindi, english and some other gibberish. Sort of confused at his own diction and keeps quite.
Me: Since it rained the previous day, I asked, "Do you get north east monsoons or south west monsoons?"
Husband: gives me murderous look.
Driver 2: Increases the speed, keen at getting rid of us.

This last one is remarkable. He has a squealing tone and like the other drivers spoke broken hindi to communicate with us. But what makes him stand out in the crowd is his confidence while speaking hindi.

Driver 3: Company wala (he meant ola). Bolta, "this app not responding. Please close." main chup karta. (showing us his mobile which hung by a polythene cover in the auto.) Not to forget the high pitched squealing voice.
Husband: Scared and shocked while getting into the auto. Took sometime to understand that the driver was complaining about OLA App.
Driver 3: Kaha jana?
Husband: Ice cream works kondapur.
Driver 3: Company wala bataya. waha pe chodta.
Husband: ok. location dekhke chod do
Driver 3: Company wala bolta. waha chodta.
Husband: ok
Driver 3: Compay wala .... yet again the same thing.
Husband: tired to reply or comment.
Driver 3: scolding and shouting at the people crossing the road. Cursing the people driving the cars. (in tamil)
Husband: silent.
I prod him to ask his favorite question to the driver but my husband is apparently scared. Finally I found one driver who "Chup karata" my husband.

The SEA:

All my life I had seen only the beach at Vishakapatnam. The tides are wild here and beaches crowded. But the beach at Rameshwaram was still and serene. I never imagined the sea to be so tame and shallow. The waters were shallow and clear. I could see the snails at the bottom. I collected many shells and have brought home a small treasure trove from the sea. Given below are few pictures.

One morning when my husband was asleep, I sneaked out of our hotel and stood gazing at the sea, taking in the warmth of the sun, while the fishermen sat there spreading their nets to dry. I spoke to one of them and found out that they start from shore at around 1:00 AM to catch fish and return by 7 or 8 in the morning. I also found out that they go 12 miles into Srilanka to catch fish. This not only meant that the fishermen are adventurous but also they are getting us foreign fishes to eat (at no extra charge). WOW! But coming to think of it, they are risking their lives daily for a living, leaving their lives to the mercy of sea and Srilankan navy. 

I wanted to walk along the coast during the nights post dinner. But couldn't. Because my husband accompanied me dragging his feet complaining about the humidity and the atmosphere being sultry. So as to avoid jumping into the sea, I went inside the hotel, leaving a part of my soul at the sea. Today, as I pen down this, my heart still aches for a glimpse of the huge masterpiece, to drag a swig of silence from the still sea to calm me. I don't know what meditation feels like until I stood at the shores of Rameshwaram, talking to no one but listening to the silence of the sea.

Rameshwaram - I dearly miss you.

Trip to Shilparamam and my musings

We went to Shilparamam over the weekend. Since we live in a tiny teeny apartment, my son doesnt get to play outdoors and the plan was to give him a little outdoor playtime. Shilparamam has many handicrafts stalls, an amphitheatre, a function hall, rabbits, ducks any many more things. But our area of interest was the children's park and to be more specific, the slide in the park. My son is quite obsessed with Slides and was pretty much excited and headed straight towards it. But alas! the park was crowded. Apparently the school children (of a girls school) have come for excursion and were having the time of their lives. They too seemed to be obsessed with slide and hence there was a long queue to have a ride on everyone's favorite slide.

My son, who is scared of crowd, maintained a good distance from the slide. He stared at it for sometime and then amused himself with the sand. In the beginning, I protested but gave in. I watched him as he happily played in the sand and consoled myself that its sometimes good to play in the sand and expose ourselves to the germs and microbes as it builds immunity. I joined my son and drew few shapes in the sand but eventually we got bored and started staring at the slide, hoping the children to leave. God finally answered our prayers and we heard the teacher whistle. She was calling the girls to assemble together to leave. As I was expectantly noticing the proceedings, the events that followed rekindled my school memories. Hearing the whistle, the girls scurried and hurried towards the slide, sliding and quickly coming back to form a queue and climb it. They were squeezing every fraction of a second to enjoy. The teacher came with a cane to hit them, and the girls giggled and dispersed from the slide only to return once the teacher turned her head. The girls were quickly sliding, landing on top of the other and giggling uncontrollably. They neither flinched nor complained when they dashed into each other. They just continued forming a queue and sliding. Dirty clothes, sweaty faces, dusty hands, dusty legs but happy faces. Such a lively atmosphere was enough to brighten up my mood. Such sportive girls. One of the girls noticed my son and volunteered to give him a slide ride on her lap and all she got was a "touch me not" look. Yeah! thats my son. But the other little ones present in the park, gladly agreed and allowed the school girls to carry them and slid together happily as we stood watching.

Later that evening, we watched the girls playing kabaddi. Falling on the ground, not minding the bruises and scratches they got. These girls are from a government school and were happy, their teacher was bossy but friendly. The girls were naughty but not rude to the teacher. When the teacher hit them, they didn't shout back. They didn't protest or form a group arguing with her. They sheepishly smiled at her and pleaded for extra time when she came with her cane. That was how we were in our school. These days a teacher hitting a student is considered a crime. I wonder why. In my opinion, a little hitting to discipline the child shouldn't matter. That was how we were treated in our school and we turned up well. On the contrary we are doing everything to entertain their childish tantrums which mature into teenage tantrums. Not sure if thats the way to raise responsible citizens. Also, we don't let our children play in open, in mud or sand. We are careful as to whom they play with and dont let them mingle. We make a big deal of their scratches and bruises. And doing so, we forget that we are snatching away their childhood from them. They are missing all the fun we had. Foolishly we are hiding them from nature. By over protecting them, we are doing them more harm than gain. Occasional cuts and bruises make them tough. Playing outdoors is good for bones and overall development- both physical and mental. Playing with other kids they learn to adjust and learn the art of making friends. We are social animals and we have to socialize. Lets try to give our children the childhood they deserve. Let them build awesome memories of childhood like we did. Dont let our love for them impair them. Because we won't be there to protect them forever. Its their life and they have to fend for themselves. Lets raise them to be tough, independent and sensitive beings.

Not sure if this makes sense but may be I am delirious due to lack of sleep.

Puppy love

It was like any other colony of a suburb. Independent houses and no apartments. Mud roads and no cement or tar roads. Every house had rangoli drawn at its gate and flowering plants adorned the compound walls. It was a busy colony where men left for work in the morning and returned in the evening. The women were left at home busy gossiping. They hardly had time for anything else. They were busy peeping out through the windows, checking who was having affair with whom, which house had guests and whether they arrived in big cars or on public transport. They did not understand the concept of privacy. They were interested in what was happening in others' family. They spoke about whose son was loyal to his wife than his mother, which lady was having trouble conceiving, who had got new clothes and from where, who wore heavier jewellery than others, which boy scored good marks and which one got spanked for bunking the class. There were many such topics discussed during the day, all of which went into the men's ears during the night. It was a colony that always buzzed with controversies, arguments and boasts.. Everyone lived happily gossiping their day into dusk.

Unnoticed by all the people was a bitch. A bitch in pain, a stray bitch. Like all other stray bitches, she struggled to find food to satiate her hunger pangs. Soon she learnt that the garbage dump was always abundant with food for her. She made it her home and ate over it and slept on it throughout her pregnancy. None of the busy inmates of the colony paid attention to it. The children were scared of the bitch's canines and maintained distance. Finally, its pain ended and the last of the puppies was out. She licked them each one after the other as they suckled her milk and slept. She slept over the garbage dump tired and spent. It was the next morning when Gopu saw the cute little puppies huddled beside their mom. They were six of them. He offered a biscuit to the bitch who ate it gratefully. Soon, Gopu emptied his pack of biscuits and ran home. He fetched some water in an empty coconut shell and gave it to her. He slowly neared the puppies and touched one of them. It felt heavenly until his mother dragged a kicking and crying Gopu inside, scolding him for touching the filthy puppies. Watching this, Shyam's mother said, “What is wrong with Vandana? Why is she angry with poor Gopu for feeding the bitch?” she went close to the bitch and Shyam followed her lead. “My! Look at them. See Shyamu! Aren't they cute?” Shyam took it as an encouragement and said. “Mom! Look at the puppies, they are sleeping on prickly thorns. Poor creatures.” he rushed in and got an unused doormat and placed it down for the puppies to sleep. Rupa, who was disappointed to part ways with her doormat, couldn't reproach her son publicly after her take on Vandana. Slowly everyone competed with the other in helping the puppies and the bitch. The bitch was happy and never barked at them because she knew they were helping her and her puppies. She was happy that her puppies were well fed. She never barked at the children who came to play with her puppies. She trusted them and knew that they didn't mean any harm. The children splashed water on them and gave them a bath daily which relieved the felines in the scorching heat.

Though it had started as a competition between the inmates of the colony, soon they grew fond of the puppies. The fatherless puppies were loved by humans who discarded fatherless babies as bastards and termed husbandless women as whore. They liberally and wholeheartedly gave them food, bones, biscuits and water. The puppies were sometimes allowed into their homes to play. The scampering, trotting and jumping puppies added bliss to the colony. The puppies's well being was now part of their discussion. What they ate in the morning? What could be given for lunch and dinner was spoken and thought of. The colony stood united on matters concerning the puppies. The puppies came waging their tails when the children returned from school. The children threw their bags and ran to play with the puppies. They played fetch ball, chased the puppies and were sometimes chased by them.

The bliss the puppies brought to the colony was magical. A bond of trust enveloped them until one day. The day when uncle Laxman started to office like any other day. He took out his car from the parking. A naughty and playful puppy ran to chase the car like it always did. But alas! It went under the tyre because uncle Laxman was reversing his car. That day, uncle Laxman didn't go to work. The children didn't go to school and their parents did not protest. It broke their heart to see the puppy writhe in pain. The bitch was in tears and the puppies huddled behind their mom, scared. The entire colony mourned the puppy's death. The bitch who never barked at the boys, barked when the boys picked up the dead puppy to bury. Few of them did not cook food at home and those who cooked left it untouched. The five puppies now reminded them of the lost puppy. The bitch now preferred eating from the garbage dump over the food offered to her. The puppies did not come running to the children as they were not six. They no longer played with the children. Instead, they sulked behind their mom. The inmates of the colony could do nothing to gain back the feline's lost trust. The bitch regretted trusting the humans and the humans regretted for failing her.

The magic spell was broken. Once more, the colony degraded to its previous state. The puppies soon grew into dogs, Stray Dogs who were stoned and sent away from the colony. The dogs ran away and found their abode at the dump yard which was much more bigger than the tiny garbage dump of the colony. Their mother, the bitch was taken by another dog to serve its non motherly needs.

Accumulations

We all think we are the most superior species on the planet. God has created various animals - herbivores, carnivores, omnivores. We have the predator - prey hierarchy. We have a food chain. And I think man sits at the top of the food chain and top of the animal hierarchy.  What makes us special? What makes us sit at the top? 

The basic need for survival is food. Other animals either kill or are killed for food. But humans can choose whether they want to kill or not. Humans can cook and add flavors to food. But we didnt stop with flavors and cooking. We started wearing clothes and building houses for ourselves. Here, I must say we surely are superior. But then we started marking lands, we started acquiring wealth and riches. Not just food and water but we started thirsting for money, wealth and property. For our shelter we need a home but why do we need many houses? Guest house, farm house, leased out house etc. When the animals die, they die. They dont seem to fight to leave their mark on the planet. But we humans dont want to stop with death. We accumulate wealth and leave it behind for our offsprings. Whats the point? We cut down forests, snatch away the natural habitats of animals and cage them in zoo. Why? because we sit at the top of the hierarchy.

The animals fight to survive. But their fights are limited to the herds of their territory. We humans fight not just for survival but also to satisfy our ego. We find reasons to fight over caste, creed, region and religion. Our fights span across countries. I wouldnt be surprised if we decide to wage a war with martians some day. 

We think. We analyze. We invent. We invent machines and gadgets to simplify our life but destroy the eco-system. We want an easy life, but end up in messing up others' lives. We are top of the hierarchy, because we drew the hierarchical chart. Because we forgot the basic fact that true bliss is in co-existing with nature but not in modifying, manipulating or destroying it. Thus we are trying to dominate nature and are investing time and money in inventing are re-inventing technologies. We have messed up our life styles and have complicated our lives to the extent that we cannot live without our ACs, automobiles and many other gadgets paving way to various diseases. We have dominated nature to the extent that the very air we breathe in every second has turned into poison. Lets not forget that we are part of the nature and by being indifferent to it, we are calling our own doom.

2017 - A Restrospection

Another year down. Another year old. Lot of learnings. Testing, depressing, rewarding. Lets get started.

I started my year being a SAHM and ended up as a working woman/mother. I have heard many people say many things, giving varying opinions on whether a mom should work or not. Amidst all this, I got my much needed break and time off from my multi tasking life this year. But also learnt that anything slower than the rat race doesn't go well with me. So got back to the race.  All my life I was striving to the best at whatever I did. But now I just want to be a good mom. And I am mighty scared I might fail.

Talking of my son. He has started going to school this year. Has acquired a bicycle, scooter and bike. He speaks telugu fluently though not clearly. He has started showing his true colors in school. Though he has made many friends at school, he doesn't want to go to school and cries every single day we dress him up to school. His favorite kitchen set and my kitchen utensils are long forgotten. Automobiles are currently trending his heart. At present, he is the most pampered and spoilt kid I have ever seen. I hope to change that in the coming year and will need all the luck in the world to favor me. He likes watching tom and jerry, zool babies and other such cartoons on youtube. Something that has to be minimized in the coming year. A great fan of ice cream, chocolates and sweets and drives me nuts when comes to healthy eating. There were many instances when the mentally and physically exhausted me broke down in front of my son. On one such instance on failing to refrain my son from fiddling with the electric plug points, I started sighing and crying so much that my husband started reprimanding my son as to why he made me cry. The confused kid didn't have an answer. The poor guy thought I was crying because he was having the time of his life. Oh boy! just writing about it gives me goose bumps.

I was way liberal with my son this year. But its high time I concentrate on disciplining him. My husband has partnered with his friends and opened up an ice cream store this year, finally finding a valid reason for ignoring me. Talking of my career. It had been a unique experience attending interviews. Not because I was facing interviews after a gap of 7 years but due to the prejudice the interviewers had for a working mother. Though the technical questions changed from one company to the other, one question remained common. That was "How will you manage office when you have a baby?" I believe that was the major reason I was rejected couple of offers. But there are few people who are not very judgemental about a working mother's capabilities. And I am thankful to them that I have a job now. It is not about the money. But the feel of coming out of the shell, pushing your brain to think beyond the household chores. Waking up in the morning and looking up to a new challenge or learning at office. Above all, making awesome friends at work. At this point, you must be thinking can women be friends? And my answer is, atleast I have many female friends who are very helpful, supportive and suggestive. For example, I told them that I have five white leggings which are turning yellow. Though they did not have a solution for it, they had the heart to reflect my concern unlike my husband who turned a deaf ear. 

I had many resolutions for the year. All of which lay successfully broken. Let 2018 be a fresh beginning for a new set of resolutions (to be broken or kept? lets see). Another year of madness awaits.. 

The Happy Ending

There are stories. Millions of them. Many of which end in “and they lived happily ever after”. The happy endings. Such are the stories people liked. And such were the stories of his movies. His acting skills were applauded by everyone. Our best actor of the year. Requests for interviews flooded him and he was humble enough to oblige them. But to act off screen wasn't as simple as it was on screen. That one question he dreaded, that one question he avoided haunted him in every interview. He smiled outwardly in reply while his insides churned and burned. At the age of 35, the world doesn't seem to be happy with just his acting skills or dance moves. They wanted to see him married. Because that is what a society wants. A tall, rich and hansome guy married. They didn't care if he was uncomfortable with the question. All they wanted was an answer. “When?” and “With whom?” Rumours were spreading that our hero might as well be a gay.

On a cloudy evening, he sat sipping toddy in his farm house, far from the lime light where he could cast away his smiling mask. He sat amidst the mangrove trees where the cool breeze caressed his face and blew his silky hair off his forehead. He sat there sipping toddy with blurred vision of his teary eyes believing that nature could heal his pain. When he thought he had finally found peace, the koyal sang. The melody of its voice stung his heart and his wound bled, his pain rose. With the song, came the rain. It came down as fast and heavy as her memory attached to it. For him the rains not only brought the scent of damp soil but also the memory of their first rain together, their first kiss. The memory of the water dripping from her hair onto her marble skin. They had played like two innocent children, splashing water onto each other. They giggled like they had drunk, danced like mad. They hugged each other because that was the best to do in a rain. It was ecstasy. What more did he want but her by his side for the rest of his life? But alas! The dark clouds thundered in warning scaring his lady love. The thunderbolt of his superior caste hit him and his love for her. His lady love was kidnapped and threatened. Because that is what a royal lineage demands. A rule breaker to be punished, an intruder to be bullied. All he could do was pray for her safety. He promised not to taint his family with his love. Because that was the only way to ensure her safety. He did not fight for her because it wasn't a scene of his movie. Such were the rules of the society. His forefathers were the kings who ruled the land. He couldn't insult the royal lineage. But he realized this a little too late. She left him and with her took away a piece of his heart. His heart still bled from this wound.

Today, she was taken away by someone else. Someone who was not as superior as him in caste. Someone who was not as rich as him. Someone who was not as tall and handsome as him. But someone whom she felt safe with. Someone who was manly enough to take care of her and her needs. What else could pain him more than seeing his girl happy in someone else's arms? Almost half a decade later, he couldn't get over it. Her memories haunted him. He regretted for not fighting for her, for not protecting her. But regrets couldn't undo the done. He lay there under a mango tree while the koyal quenched its thirst, while the peacock found its dancing mate, while the toddy in the pot stood diluted with rain. He lay there sprawled, craving for her presence, starving for love.

Today nature had stung him like never before. He decided to take it without protest. He lay there drenched. His blood shot eyes, red with the incessant downpour of tears that refused to stop their duet with the rain. Finally, she came as his eyelids got heavier, as his head lolled drowsier. He knew that nature might betray him but his toddy couldn't. She came as dry as dust. She came for him, to shower her love. To tell him that she loved him like the good old days. She came behind his shut eyelids where they didn't taint family's reputation, where they weren't born of any caste, where there was nothing but love. He drifted into his world of dreams, into his happy ending.

DREAMS

We all have dreams, one silent wish and a hope to see that wish fulfilled. But with time we realize that our silent wish was lost unheard, our dream remains a dream and our hope, the tiny ray of hope goes bleaker and meeker until it becomes non existent. We are told not to lose hope at any point in life. But it is better said than done. Who could know it better than Chunnu and Munnu. No. These are not their names. These are their pet names. We don't bother about their original names, which their village itself has long forgotten.

Chunnu was 10 years old and Munnu, his elder brother was 12 years old. Their dad owned agricultural land like all others in the village. But unlike other boys, they were rich. Rich with the treasures of their own kind. Treasures that gave competition to the magpies. They had many shells of different shapes, size and colors. They had their broken teeth buried in the ground waiting to turn into gold some day. They had peacock feathers hidden in their yellowing books which were omens for good wealth. Most important of all, they had shiny wrappers of sweet delicacies gifted by their uncle from abroad. They spent their time piling up their treasures and boasting about them to their friends. They didn't care if their clothes had a patch sewn to cover the tear. They didn't care if their clothes were ragged and rough due to excessive usage. Neither did they bother if their clothes shrunk with time, refusing to grow with them. Carrying their tattered and torn school bags they went to the Zilla Parishad School in the morning and in the evenings, they whiled away their time under or on top of the Neem tree in their farm, watching peacocks eat corn from their land. Their mother toiled during the day, watering the crops, filling water from the well, feeding the bulls, negotiating with the field hands for plucking and sorting out the grains. During nights, she cooked and tended to her family, when not beaten out of shape by her drunk husband. Chunnu and Munnu helped their mother at the farm to compensate for their father's absence at work. They accepted their life with its shortcomings and were happy because they believed they were rich. Their lack of proper clothes, their worn out shoes, torn socks, yellowed books did not dampen their spirits because it was the same with every other student at the Zilla Parishad School.

One day Chitra, their cousin from the city came searching for them in their farm as the lazy lads were swinging their legs sitting on a branch of their Neem tree. Chitra's dad Veman and Chunnu, Munnnu's dad Vijay were brothers whose land lay beside each other without proper demarcation. But their trained and experienced eyes knew where each one’s land ended and where the other's began. Veman and Vijay had one interest in common. Liqour. Cheap Liqour. They boozed together everyday. But the only difference was that unlike Vijay, Veman didn't thrash his wife as she was settled in the city.

Veman was intoxicated by his distant cousin Sindhu when young. He married her when she was 16 and he was 23. She was an enthusiastic girl and was bright at studies. With Veman's encouragement, she completed her graduation post marriage, much to the dismay of her in laws. Veman would toil hard at the farm and would fix dinner for his aged parents and pregnant wife who was intent on completing her graduation. They had Chitra and Veman tended to his daughter while Sindhu busied herself with studies. The couple was happy with each other and their baby. Nothing could possibly go wrong between them with a husband as caring and supportive as Veman. But Alas! Veman's world collapsed when Sindhu got a job. He was proud of his wife for getting the job she deserved. But he was in a fix. He couldn't accompany her to the city as to what decent job could an uneducated man get in a city? Moreover, farming was his only area of expertise and he wanted to stick to it. Veman's parents insisted Sindhu to stay in village. But Veman left the decision to Sindhu. So Sindhu went and also took their daughter with her to provide her with better education at a better school than their village could provide. Chitra missed her father. Her father, who had taken care of her like a mother when her mother was busy with her brains. It broke her heart to leave him every time after her monthly visits. Veman was beyond grief to see the two most precious ladies of his life leave him. His parents died lamenting at their son's bitter fate.

During the toughest phase of Veman's life, Vijay came to his rescue. He showed him light. He made his brother realize how grave a mistake it was to educate his wife when he himself was uneducated. But what was done was done and they couldn't reverse it, but it could be numbed.  Though for a while. He introduced Veman to liquor, the pacifier of all griefs. He taught Veman that heaven could be sought with this 10 rupees bottle. In the beginning Veman would puke after every swig. But eventually, his body accepted the cheap liquor as his mind accepted his fate.

Chitra was happy today as she was on her monthly visit. She was 12 years now and loved her dad as always but couldn't stay longer with him in his village as the city was more comfortable. She wore her new dress. A floral blue gown that swept the floor as she haughtily approached the tree where her cousins were perched. “I have a good news.” she yelled. The boys jumped down crushing the dried leaves under their feet, causing the dust to rise. Chitra crinkled her nose at the raising smoke of dust.

“What is it?” they asked in unison.

“Uncle Vinod…” She paused for the words to take effect on them.

Uncle Vinod worked in Dubai. They didn't know what he did there but he brought them goodies wrapped in shiny papers. Which meant they could grow richer much to the envy of their friends. They were liberal enough to share the candies and chocolates with their friends. But the precious wrappers were kept with them. They gave an ear to ear grin on hearing his name.

“Thats not even the news.” said Chitra.

“Okay. Tell us what it is. We don't have time. We have to feed the bulls. Better be quick.” barked Chunnu angry at Chitra for acting smart.

“It is uncle Vinod's son's birthday next week. He is turning one and uncle Vinod is throwing a party at the city. All of you will come to city for the party.” she said happily because she could be the boss at the city. Her cousins' didn't know what a mall was. They haven't been on an escalator or an elevator. City was her realm and she could avenge them for making fun of her inefficiency at climbing trees, for her fear of feeding the bulls and for everything else she was uncomfortable with at their village.

Chunnu and Munnu didn't seem to be excited about the birthday party until their uncle came the next day to invite the relatives in person. He was loved by the villagers for his humility. Vinod was Vijay and Veman's brother in law. He was married to their sister, Radha almost a decade ago and was blessed with a baby boy after a long wait. The couple rejoiced and decided to throw a party on the occasion of his first birthday, as was the custom amongst the rich. They flew to India and stayed at the city to host the party, as their village wasn't comfortable enough for their baby. Vinod went to the village with invitations. He not only brought the sweet delicacies wrapped in shiny papers for his magpies but also brought new pair of clothes to wear for the occasion. He not only arranged a bus for the villagers to commute to the city but also bought them new clothes to wear. The villagers were happy to see how rich Vinod had become over the years and were happier to see how liberal he was with giveaways and gifts whenever he visited them.

Chunnu and Munnu were jubilant. Not for the shiny wrappers this time but for the clothes they got. They had never worn such fine clothes all their lives. Like all other villagers, their mother bought them clothes from a merchant who sold clothes on his bicycle with overstuffed bags. He sold sarees, shirts, pants and frocks for various age groups. New clothes from this man on the cycle were no objects of excitement or joy as they were not as fine in making as the ones given by uncle Vinod. They lost their new look after first wash. Moreover, the boys of the entire village wore similar clothes as they were all bought from the same man. The clothes given by uncle Vinod were different. White shirts with black pants and straps that went around their shoulders. Two similar pairs of different size for the magpies. What was magical about the dress was that the straps were detachable. They carefully folded and placed their clothes in their respective boxes. They couldn't wait for their baby cousin's birthday.

Chitra too was excited about her baby cousin's birthday. But for a different reason. She had gone to many birthday parties in the city but rarely attended a function with her dad. All the functions of her relatives were held at the village because all her relatives hailed from there. On very few occasions when her monthly visits coincided with the functions at the village, she attended them with her dad. But her dad had never seen a party at a hotel in the city. He never saw the theme based decorations and the myriads of balloons floating in the air with curly ribbons hanging down. She bought a new red frock with frills that stood like an umbrella from her waist to knees. She had told her dad on her previous vist that he ought to wear a red shirt for the party and that her mom would also wear same color saree for the party. By now Chitra knew that she couldn't show her cousins the elevator, escalator, malls or the tall buildings as they would come for a couple of hours and confine their stay to the hotel where the party was being held.

Finally, on the much awaited day's most awaited party, Chitra and Sindhu waited for Veman outside the hotel. Sindhu wore a red shimmery saree with matching lipstick, bangles and sandals. She was the most polished lady of the village. She loved her husband for all he had done to protect her interests post marriage and baby. Both the ladies of Veman were fidgety until the bus from village arrived. As Veman got down the bus, Chitra ran into his arms. Veman came in a red shirt as promised and was clean shaved. Though he did not drink when with his wife or daughter, Sindhu knew about his drinking problem. His bodily changes made it obvious. She insisted Veman to live with them in the city as she was earning enough for all of them. But Veman preferred his village over the city. It was his comfort zone. Sindhu went up to her husband and led him inside. Chitra was too occupied to ask for her cousins.

Earlier that day, Chunnu and Munnu woke up before dawn. They got dressed for the occasion and combed their hair making a clean partition at the left. They couldn't wait to flaunt their clothes at the party. They were excited about being filmed in their new clothes, dreaming about posing for photographs at the party. They were too excited to have their breakfast. Their mother, a tanned, thin, slender yet tough woman was happy to see her children dressed up like princes. To her, they looked like movie stars by the country side. She wore the saree given by Vinod. A green crepe saree with thin silver border. She couldn't see her sons starving until the party and was chasing them in an attempt to shove some food into their mouths, when they heard him arrive. He saw the three of them, all decked up in new clothes in a festive mood. His eyes showed he was drunk. He slapped her and she fell down with a thud, her ear bleeding. He kicked her in the ribs. “You wore this saree? Accepting gifts from other man! You think he is a man. Do you? You whore!” he yelled as he raised his leg to kick her. Chunnu dashed at him and caught his foot making Vijay to stagger and fall.

“Don't hit her.” commanded Munnu. Vijay got up and smacked his sons on the back of their heads.

“These clothes have made you heros. Eh? I am the head of the family. Bow to me. BOW TO ME!” he yelled, the words slurring from his drunken mouth. Chunnu and Munnu were seething with rage. Their dad hit their mother very often. But how could he hit her today? How could he spoil this special day? He pulled them by their shirts as they began to run away from him. “What rags have you chosen to wear? Clothes that are not given by your dad?” His tugging at their clothes and their resistance to move closer to him, caused their shirts to tear. PRRRRRR..... And a bomb exploded in their hearts, shattering their dream. The dream of trotting to the city in their fine clothes. The dream of looking rich and polished at a party in the city. The dream of being filmed and photographed. What followed next was not registered by them. The blows they got, the cuts she bled from were none of their concerns now.

The bus came and left and with it left their last ray of hope. Chunnu and Munnu lay on either side of their mom with their heads buried in her lap as they wept. The slender yet tough woman sobbed, not for her aching ribs or bleeding ears, but for her weeping darlings whose clothes were torn, hair was pulled and cheeks were puffed. They wept until their tears were exhausted and remained as silent and still as a stone, gazing into nothingness where their dream lay shattered refusing to mend, finally accepting the fact that they were not as rich as they had thought and neither as lucky as the family in red that was rejoicing its reunion at the party.