Saari.

When she drapes me on her she looks just wonderful. Every woman looks beautiful when she puts me on, along with a bindi, beautiful ear rings and necklesses. Oh how splendid they look! Women and Girls have been wearing me since ages.The first two generations in a family are still wearing it but once in a blue moon will you find a third generation girl wearing it. Nowadays, due to the western influence, people prefer wearing t-shirts, skirts, shorts and what not! Now I am not saying don't wear it. The only time I feel hurt is when they call me down- market. People wear Punjabi Kurtas. But their number is also decreasing and they soon would be extinct, which i'm afraid we soon can get too. I understand it's difficult to walk when you are wearing me. But then that's the challenge and this generation loves to take challenges. How often do you find a women wearing me? (The door opens suddenly) Oh wow she opened the cupboard.Finally! It's her farewell at school, I guess. I got to go. But before leaving, I'd like to say, don't forget us. Whenever you feel you don't look beautiful, whenever you are depressed, I am there, in your cupboard, to help you. Just wear me. Put on a beautiful bindi. Look into the mirror. Smile and get pleased. For I am always there for you and your beauty.

Bark!

"Come here, give a ShakeHand to uncle", said my mom. Well my mom is not like me. They are called humans, maybe. I gave a shake hand and said "Hello! How are you?" "Shh! Stop barking!" mom said. Well I was just greeting the guest.Anyways I kept quite and went under the table. I think I am not allowed to speak much. The bell rang. And as usual I get excited when it rings and I start barking and exclaiming. I love when people come and cuddle me. When they put their hand on my head and scratch it, I feel like heaven. It was my dad. He had come from his office. As soon as he takes of his shoes, I go running to him. He takes me in his arms. I lick him. This is his routine after he comes home. He then switches on the TV and watches news. I watch with him too. But I don't understand this concept, people who call themselves as leaders talk rubbish. They are allowed to talk but still they talk any non-sense. Whereas when I want to point out my views, I am not allowed to.Maybe that's the rule. But I find myself quite lucky. When I go on a walk, I see so many of us on the road. I wonder how they must be surviving. I have my chicken, chappatti and pedigree everyday. What must they be eating? I get goosebumps when I imagine their life. I am happy with what I have. I get so much of love here. I thank God for this great life and wonderful family he has given me. I think that's the way to live life. Take love, give love and bark!

The Phool.

"Give this to the person you love the most, and I'm sure the person will come closer to you forever" said the gardener handing over a beautiful rose to me. Oh how generous he was. But I was confused. I didn't know whom to give it. Whom do I want to come closer to me forever? I waved him goodbye and started walking. Deep in my thoughts. I entered my society and saw her. The girl I like the most. But I was afraid to give it to her. What if she rejects it? What if she doesn't talk to me after that? I just kept the flower behind me. Smiled at her and went ahead. I started climbing the stairs and met my tuition teacher on the stairs. I thought if she comes closer, she'll be a less strict to me. But just when I was about to give her, her phone rang and she had to go. My mother opened the door. I wanted to give her the rose, as she is the one I love the most But I thought she's already so close to me, how much more close will this rose bring her to me? I didn't want to be greedy. My eyes then went to a photo kept hanging on the wall. It was my fathers. Then I made myself clear. The person I love the most. The person I want closer, forever is my father. I took a chair. Stood on it. And kept the rose over the photo. I got down and I looked at it and thought its the right place where it belongs. And suddenly there was a rush of warm breeze as if a warm hug from my father.

The Kitaabh.

Oh he opened the door finally! I was so glad to see his face. He had grown tall. Had got some beard on his face. He was certainly looking like a college going guy now. Oh I still remember the nights I spent with him. Those days. He was focused on his studies. I was happy and had a feather on my cap when I heard his results. His sister used me a few years back. She's doing engineering now. They must have forgotten me. But I still remember them. Their tension. Their tears, which fell on me when they weren't able to fulfill the expectations of their parents and themselves in the mock tests.
I don't know why he had opened the door. Maybe because someone else was gonna use me. He started taking me and rest of us out of the cupboard. He first wiped the dust on us. He then arranged us in a pile and tied us. I was sure we were gonna be recycled. Maybe the portion must have been changed this year. I am of no use now. The text in me which every tenth standard guy wanted to mug up and was extremly important to them is now useless. Quite strange.
Time. Everything changes with time. But we must accept the change and move with it, for everything comes with a purpose.
I am sure he'll be a successful man one day. He may not know me then. But I'll meet him one day. Maybe in another form. Or maybe as his son's textbook. A textbook again.

Mujeek.

I was waiting for a rickshaw. My keyboard class was at six. And it was already six. Since it was my first class after the vaccation I wanted to reach as soon as possible. Along with me there was an elderly man of about 75 years old and a teen who I felt had done so much of make up that I thought she must have finished the whole makeup set.We were standing, doing nothing but waiting.Waiting for our Vahaan to come. And suddenly she came with speed, the rickshaw. And as it was quite obvious, it stopped only in front of the girl. I could hear the old man shouting "Mahakali!" However the rickshaw wasn't in our fortune. Since I was going to Mahakali too, I asked the old man whether we could go together. He nodded. And our rickshaw came. The joy on our face was like the joy a child would get after getting a toy which he wanted since ages. We sat. I don't talk much. I just said "I'll leave you" . He smiled. My parents have always tell me to help elders. It feels good. Now either thought he'll be going to TheHomeForTheAged or to TheHolySpiritHospital. I didn't ask him where he wanted to go. He looked like an retried army officer. His posture was straight. TheHomeForTheAged passed, he didn't say anything. There's a junction after that. Right side is my class and left side is the hospital. The old man exclaimed"Right!". He was surely an army officer. I could make out from his kadak voice. Maybe he must be getting down somewhere near the society next to my class. But he didn't. He got down only when we reached my class. I was surprised. Looking at my surprised face he said"I learn keyboard here. I always wanted to learn it but during my time there were no classes. And when I went to Ladak for my post, I couldn't learn it. I always used to listen to the Beatles. I love their music. Music gives me peace of mind. And that's why I come here. I'm sorry but I always like to share this with someone even if they don't ask me."  I was still in a amazed. The spirit of learning, even at that age is commendable. I wonder what I'll do when I become old. But Music certainly has the power. The power to heal someone.The power to make someone smile. The power to stay in hearts of people forever. If you are a musician you certainly are as powerful as Superman.

Mangoes.

You may not know me but you must have seen me. I look just like any other kid selling karwanda. Incase you don't know what Karwanda is , it is a small fruit purplish in color, sweet to taste. I don't know what you'll call it in English. English started in my school last year, so my English is a bit weak. So here I am 4 feet tall, wearing a black colored short and a orange colored shirt which I have been wearing since the past week. I'm waiting on the Angod ghat. Waiting for a car to arrive to buy my karwandas which I had picked up early in the morning. They are fresh. Hope someone stops so that me and my sister can have some food today. My sister too sells Karwandas along with fanas or pinnaple as you call it. She is younger to me. She's sweet. She draws extremely well. I just love the way she smiles. I still remember that day. The day when someone captured her smile through some black device that people call Camera maybe. That lady was very generous. It was just a normal day. It was 1 in the afternoon. Not a single car stopped to buy our Karwandas. The sun was right above our head. We were hungry. Then a red color car passed us and slowed down. I started running behind the car. The lady in the car stopped me. She came out with a blue colored bag along with her daughter. I looked at my sister who was dying of thirst. The lady took out mangoes from the bag. I had ate mangoes when I was small. Since it was quite expensive, we never bought mangoes. She then gave us mangoes. My sister smiled. Her smile made the lady take her picture. Her daughter gave us chocolates. They smiled. We smiled. They said something. We didn't understood. They waved us goodbye. We too waved them. They left.
We then ate those mangoes. They were juicy. Sweet. Those mangoes made our day.
Everyday I wait for someone godly like that lady more than someone who would buy my karwandas.
Here comes a car. I got to go. Bye.

I smell rain.

I sat in my regular 339 bus. She came and sat next to me. I didn't look at her. I normally look outside the window. "Is it raining?" She asked. "No." I said turning to her. "I smell rain." she said. And soon tiny drops started falling on my hand which was kept on the window. "It is raining", she said. And got up her seat. I was amazed. But the beauty of the first rains, I couldn't take my eyes off them. We were stuck in traffic. Bombay is known for its traffic and its rain which I was experiencing both at that moment. Suddenly, I saw that same girl just besides the road. Dancing. Swirling around herself. She was like the happiest person on earth. Her smile was like the beautiful rainbow everyone were looking for. I kept looking at her. The smile on her face made her look so pretty. Her hair was dancing with the wind. She was jumping like a kid in the puddles. Splashing water on herself. It was so wonderful. I was delighted.
And suddenly the bus started. I thought she'll come back, but she was still enjoying. Maybe she didn't see it. But I saw something. A stick in her hand. A peculiar blind man stick. I was shocked. Rains make everyone happy. It has that strength, that power which can make anyone smile.They can bring joy to even a disabled person. Rains are like that.
So, get out there in the rains and rejoice yourself!

Vijay and Vodka.

Vijay kept his last glass of vodka on the table and left the bar. He was high. It was dark. He tried to catch a rickshaw. But failed. He started to walk. Walking as if in heaven. Suddenly a rickshaw came and stopped in front of him. "Kahi chod du saab?" The rickshaw driver asked. Vijay replied "Arey waah! Aaj toh chamatkar ho gaya! Andheri Chalo, Andheri." "Baitho saab." The driver said. I think the driver too was drunk as they were in Andheri itself. They started their journey. A phone rang. It was neither Vijay's nor the rickshaw driver's. " Saab phone baj raha hai!" said the driver. Vijay took the phone." Suno. Abhi tumhe ek kaam karna hai. Dhyaan se suno. Tumhare baaju mein lal rang ka bag hai.Jaha ye rickshaw rukhegi waha ye de dena." the voice over the phone said. Bag mein kya hai?" Vijay asked with his drunkard accent. "Zaroori nahi hai!" And the phone got cut. The rickshaw stopped. "Kitna hua?" Vijay asked. Ye bag le aur seedha chalta rahe. Kuch log rahengey unhe ye bag de dena." Vijay took the bag and started walking straight. well he couldn't walk straight as he had had 7 pegs. He took his phone did something and started playing songs. He could see a van and few people standing near it. He couldn't see their faces. "Aa gaya aaj ka bakra.Idhar jaldi de aur yahan se vatak!" a man said from the group. He gave them the bag. "Par woh rickshaw wala bhi toh aapko de sakta tha?" Vijay asked. Abey, tu jis raste se aaya woh raste pe police round leti hai. Hum black listed hai.Tere jaise talli aadmiko koi pakdega nahi. Pakadneka  sochega bhi nahi. Kahan se pakdenge hume ye police?"
Just then a police siren rings. The men try to run. However they get caught. "Kya baat hai saab, aaj toh aapne kamal kar diya!"  said a hawaldar . Inspector Vijay smiled and replied "Chal gaddit bas".

My Second Mother.

 I have two mothers. One is my mother, who gave me birth. My second mother is just like my first mother.She does her job in the absence of my mother. I can't see her. But I can very well listen to her. She tells me what's right. She builds up my confidence. Whenever I talk to her, she solves all my problems. If I'm going to take a wrong step she restricts me to do so and that's what a mother would do. I really love both my mothers. For today, whatever I am is because of them and their views on each and every step I have taken. People call her conscience.

The F word.

"Grandpa, what's a zoo?" I asked. I was just five and had just started schooling." It's a place where there are animals and birds.." said grandpa. "Oh that must be wonderful then! " Fresh green grass, elephants drinking water from crystal clear blue ponds, beautiful birds flying all around, lions and tigers sitting like kings is all what came to my mind. "Let's go to a zoo! " I said with a lot of excitement. Grandpa smiled and said "As you wish my little naturelover!" We took our tickets and entered the zoo.The first thing that I saw was litter. Litter all around the place. We walked further. There were bars. I had seen them in Jails in movies. I was confused. Was I in the zoo or some jail? As we went closer, grandpa took me in his hands. There were birds flying. I had never seen those birds before. Maybe they were in my ABCD book. They were beautiful. I didn't know their name. Suddenly I got a smell of something odd. I couldn't take that smell. We moved further. But there was a question in my mind. How do those birds take in that smell? How do they live in it? There was an elephant, again behind bars. He was drinking. But it wasn't a pond with crystal clear water as expected. It seemed more of a gutter. We moved further.Everyone were gathered. Perhaps the most best place in the zoo was here, I thought. My grandpa took me over his shoulder so that I could see the animal. There was a lion there. He wasn't sitting like a king. Maybe he was restless. He looked old.Food was kept besides him, perhaps stale. But he wasn't gonna eat it.
We then went to a canteen and bought a candy bar ice cream. There were benches kept there. We sat there.
"I don't want to hear that F word again!"  said a lady to her son sitting besides us.
Now I am a boy who asks a lot of questions. So I asked my grandpa, " What is the F word?"
And as any normal person would be speechless, he too didn't know what to say.
But then suddenly he said" Freedom. The F word is freedom."
"Freedom?" I asked.
He said " Freedom is when you are free. Free to roam anywhere, free to do any work without any restrictions"
So that means these animals don't have the F word, freedom? ".  "Maybe!" Grandpa said. "Then why was she not  letting him say that word?"  I said. " I don't know. Finish your Ice cream its melting" grandpa said.

We left. And as we were leaving and passing  each cage, I stared into the eyes of the creatures. They all said the same F word. But was that word freedom or some other word?

Swagatam!

Namaste. Swagatam!

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