Chapter 2

Cribbing is a difficult business at the best of times. Some people find it tough even when life is very unfairly harsh to them. Disgusting folks, those are. Some people are just not up for it, some people crib occasionally, some are rather frequent and many crib regularly just like a routine. Cribbing is an art. Most of these cribbers just don’t do it well enough; some are really good at it while some are exceptional cribbers. But very few, perhaps only a handful, are born cribbers. Marvin – The Robot is one of them.

He is considered by many as the most dangerous weapon yet designed to destroy all of mankind’s dreams and hopes. All these ‘many’ are or have been (male) students of Slabchand College of Engineering, the best college in the world. ‘He spreads the gloom over you just like a carpet on the floor’, they say.

NOTE: The author is not very good at analogies. So, here is the deal, you don’t raise a hue and cry about it and you won’t have the headache it causes. A win-win situation for you, I must say.

The legend has it that he – Marvin – had actually, incredibly, resolutely, irrevocably, astoundingly, flatteringly, amazingly, magnanimously, confidently, delicately, inconsolably smiled when he was born. But his father vehemently denies it.

“It’s an outrageous lie. He has never in his life – I repeat – he has never in his whole life given even a flicker of a smile. This is a rumor. Please keep spreading these rumors for us to deny and crib about it. Life has been very unfairly kind to him, please don’t make it more so by stopping these rumors”, he says.

Life had indeed been very (unfairly) kind to him. His father was one of those good natured and happy go lucky guys who also happen to be extremely intelligent, very rare they are. That was till he came across Douglas Adams’ ‘The Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy’. For those who haven’t read the book, there is a character named Marvin, the paranoid android. He is a robot with vast intelligence. But nobody actually wanted him around because he was a great cribber. Marvin’s father was so taken by the gravity and relativity of this character that he took up cribbing big time. But he always remained one of those struggling cribbers who make cribbing their life’s passion, but actually are not very good at it. Many factors went into his failure as a cribber. The obvious lack of talent coupled with the utter lack of occasions (to crib) throughout his life contributed to his downfall. He had a lovely wife, a good job and understanding colleagues. In short he had everything that a cribber despises. And his lack of talent meant that he could not even crib about the fact that he had everything that he despised. He plummeted to the brightest depths of hope and happiness. Even his failure as a cribber could not give him the hopeless feeling that he so longed for. But he kept toiling very hard to achieve his goal. And then came the incident which finally made him admit that he was after all a very very bad cribber.

Marvin was born.

Even as a baby, Marvin was a champion cribber. He never actually cried but he never – as we have established – actually even gave a flicker of a smile. His father could sense a genius in the making. His heart was filled with joy and hope that his son could be the greatest cribber the world has ever known.

‘The world is not so bad after all’, he thought.

This hope and joy made him admit to his weakness as a cribber. But he was determined that his son will lack everything that a man wants. He named him after the best cribber he had known, Marvin. But, a normal name! He should not have the privilege of a normal name. And so, he added a byline – The Robot. And he thought, ‘My son must be the only person to have a byline added to his name. That will give him something to crib about.’ But he need not have bothered. Marvin didn’t need a reason to crib about.

He was very geometrical in appearance. Every major part of his body looked like a cube placed on top of another. His face was a cube kept on another cube named neck and so on. His black eyes were two perfect ellipses in his face, his nose an inverted ‘T’ with nostrils at perfect right angles to the stem of his nose and his mouth was a thin horizontal line. To add to it, he had the perfect rectangular framed glasses. He was thin so some of his bones just protruded out of his skin at some points like shoulders and elbows. He moved in a very robotic fashion as well, stiff and abrupt. His hair was sleek, shiny and pressed flat on his head, giving his head the appearance of a metallic skull. If only he had an antenna on his head, he would be the exact robot look alike.

He was very much like Marvin, the paranoid android. Not only did he have the cribbing talent and robotic looks but also the tremendous brain power. He was extremely intelligent. This is a deadly combination. A talent to crib about everything in life and brains to use that talent most destructively. No wonder that he could spread the gloom over people like a carpet over the floor. That’s why people (males) always tended to avoid him.

His intelligence made sure he never had to struggle for anything in life. He always got the best grades, the best schools which in turn again meant the best grades which finally meant the best college. But on no account did these mean the best thing(s) that he got and that was the best girls. Some were foolish enough to try and figure out the logic behind this foolish phenomenon. They asked themselves (mostly when they were drunk), how can girls like a guy who is, perhaps, the best cribber the world has ever seen and who has the amazingly squarest features with bones protruding from his frame like nuts and bolts? And they came up with some interesting answers.

One theory connected girls’ love of sad stories, movies and songs with the gloom that Marvin could spread. Some people connected the role of women behind major historical wars and Marvin’s reputation as the most dangerous weapon to destroy all of mankind’s hope and desires. They said that girls cultivated him to spread gloom and in turn destroy happiness. Some simply said that girls wanted to make other guys feel jealous and incapable by being with Marvin. Some were stupid enough to ask Marvin; who then went on and cribbed about how even he doesn’t know the reason. These guys came back even more dejected than they already were. And some still had the guts to ask the girls; who first went mad and said how these boys dare ask them such personal questions, then mellowed down to say that Marvin had the most amazingly tragic stories to tell, then went in rage again to say how these boys dare make them speak these personal things, then went all girly and blushed to say that Marvin was very charming indeed and finally became indifferent to tell those boys to go and get lost to wherever they got lost when they were depressed. The boys promptly did that and went to the nearest bar.

But the theory which describes nearly all these discrepancies convincingly and thus was the most accepted simply stated that girls had, have or will have no brains.

Marvin has a hobby. He writes poems and articles in his leisure time. His favorite author is Shakespeare. Because he could write the saddest tragedies, Marvin says. Although he was not in the league of Shakespeare (for which he cribbed, as usual), he had a few small poems in his kitty. All of them were greatly depressing and a piece of art. He once wrote a poem on his father whom he despised, because he was always so happy. Here is how it goes

I saw a happy guy and thought what a poor fellow,
So, I went to see him and just to say hello.

I asked him the reason for his happiness and his face lit up,
He gave me an answer that made me sit up.

The poor guy hadn’t known a sorrow in his life,
He had a good job and a wonderful wife.

Although he had grown old, life had taught him nothing,
He never really brooded and didn’t know virtues of cribbing.

Oh God, why are you unkind, what wrong has he done?
For what mistake of his have you filled his life with fun?

God, he needs your curses, for his life is so fair,
I beg you to fill his life with despair.

Amen.

He had authored another poem on life itself titled ‘I tell you why I say so’. This was his favorite self composition. It throws into light how actually he perceives life and wishes everyone to do the same. Here is how it goes

Life is a Cricket match, with an unplayable pitch,
I tell you why I say so, because life is a bitch.

Life is a donkey, who gives everyone a kick,
I tell you why I say so, because life is sick.

Life is a man, who has had a lot of drinks,
I tell you why I say so, because life stinks.

Life is a dentist, who bills you for your dental,
I tell you why I say so, because life is mental.

Life is a whore, who screws for some bucks,
I tell you why I say so, because life sucks.

Life is a snake, which comes out of a pit,
I tell you why I say so, because life is full of shit.

Life is a furnace, which is ignited to stew you,
I tell you why I say so, because life will always screw you.

So, this is our Marvin, a multi faceted personality. But there is one guy on the back of this earth on whom Marvin has absolutely no effect at all. And it’s not that he hasn’t tried, it’s just that all his cribbing bounces off that guy like a rubber ball off a wall. And incidentally that guy also studies in Slabchand College of Engineering, the best college in the world. And his name is Ramlal.

Beyond Horizon...

“Hi mom,

“It feels so nice to see you at last so full of love and care,
It’s been a long wait and in your arms I feel so safe and secure.

“Although in heaven where I lived, the life was good and fair,
It is so warm being close to you, that I feel better than ever.

“But why unlike heaven, I don’t get the sense of peace in the air,
And why indeed in place of it, there’s a feeling of deep despair?

“Mom, is that a gun on the shoulder of a man who is standing out there?
Why does he need it and in this world, who does he fear?

“And why these men are fighting each other while saying the God’s name?
Fighting for the God who taught them peace, don’t they have any shame?

“And see those men laughing at that boy, can’t they see he’s so poor?
Making fun of him while he shines their shoes, they have no compassion for sure.

“And that man there, who’s pulling his friend down as he climbs the ladder,
Why is he jealous and why can’t he see his friend climb higher and higher?

“Why only few get to worship the god, why don’t they allow others?
Don’t they know that God loves them all, and they are supposed to be brothers?

“And why that man let his baby die, didn’t he love his daughter?
Doesn’t he know that girls are special, and not meant for slaughter?

“Why in this world has the man forgotten to please and to be kind?
Why does he forget that the most important thing is his peace of mind?”

(Mother)
“Yes son, I feel very nice and proud too, to have you in my arms,
And although you ask difficult questions, I shall answer without any qualms.

“That man standing there you see, fears another man with a gun,
Nowadays they fear the gun and not the killing, my son.

“These men fight each other you see, as they belong to different religion
They are fools and just don’t know that god is only but one.

“And those men laughing at the boy, who is trying to earn his bread,
They don’t only lack a heart but also a mind as well.

“And that man who’s pulling his friend is blinded by ambition,
Climbing higher than anyone else is his life’s mission.

“Allowing certain people to worship, is a mystery no one can solve,
The age old traditions are still followed, we just forgot to evolve.

“The man thought of daughter as a burden and didn’t bring her to being,
He must have forgotten his mother, who gave him life and limb.

“When their minds are corrupted with hate, how can men be kind?
And when the thought is to hurt and crib, there can’t be any peace of mind.”

(Child)
“Then why did you bring me here from the heavenly home that I had,
And why do you want me to live in this world which is so bad?

“Why do you want to tarnish my soul which is so pure?
By living among others’, which seem beyond cure?

“I admire that even in this world you remain so good, mom,
But now let’s go and have fun in heaven, where we both belong.”

(Mother)
“Your soul after all is just as pure as others’, my son,
In this dire situation, all the thought you have is of our fun.

“The world is not as bad as many of the men it does contain,
For there are a few very good men, who still remain.

“With these men I shall strive to make this world a better place,
And not until then in my life will I find any solace.

“You meanwhile, can make your way back to heaven,
Have fun, be good and have a safe trip, my son.”

(Child)
“Please forgive me mom as I am a big fool indeed,
But I don’t want to run away and be as bad as the men I see.

“I was making the same mistake that these men made,
Failed to see the good out there, saw the bad instead.

“Mom, help me become the man that I ought to be,
Please tell me about the world of which you dream.”

(Mother)
“Don’t say sorry to me son, for who am I to forgive,
Apologize to the God, if you have to, forgiveness is his to give.

“The world I dream of has no boundaries of caste and religion,
Nor that of countries and I see all men as one.

“It is a world where nobody needs any weapon or ammunition,
A world where there is no fear and nobody needs protection.

“My dream is of a world with honesty and bravery,
Where stealing others’ heart, my son, will be the only thievery.

“In this world we laugh only at the joys people feel,
And help them out of their sorrows, with humor and with zeal.

“In this world whatever we endeavor, is what we find,
And the only thing that we endeavor is good of mankind.

“Here, we will seek to help others climb their ladders,
And the only ambition will be to better ourselves and not others.

“A world where the hearts are as pure as your smile, my son,
And this is the world we shall strive to bring from beyond horizon.

“Bleak though it all may look and our chances all so grim,
We can at least do our bit, let us just not dream.”

(Child)
“A beautiful world you indeed think of and all men will be one,
We both shall strive to bring this world from beyond horizon.”

Chapter 1

It was a very dark and cloudy night. Dixcy was a lonely figure walking on the streets in the middle of the night, eating a banana. Eating bananas will increase your weight, they said. He walked past a couple of donkeys, a few stray dogs and a few stray ummm… lady dogs eying the males of their species. Everything looked quite still, content and quiet. And then suddenly out of nowhere there was a gun shot. In that very still, content and quiet night it felt like a loud fart in a meditation room. Even the dogs showed their awareness by barking and howling. And then came the footsteps. And from nowhere a man came into Dixcy’s view. He was not an Indian. He was hurt pretty bad. His shirt had a large dark stain and it was spreading all the time. He came to Dixcy and collapsed. Dixcy impulsively extended his arms and caught the falling body and cushioned its fall. The man was quite old. He was panting and trying to say something. Dixcy could hardly make out the words.

“I don’t have much time. But there is a task that needs to be accomplished. The good name of the Bush family depends on it.”

Note: It all came out amidst gasps and panting. But for smooth reading of the reader it has been depicted as a plain statement. (That is why the author has a rightful claim as being the most reader friendly author in the world.)

Dixcy was in shock. He just didn’t understand what he was supposed to say. So he just said, “Cool”.

“It’s the Clintons, I know it. They want to embarrass us in front of the world. It’s about the coming elections.”

“Cool.”

“My father and I were staying in the hotel ‘wherethehellisit’. They must have kept us under surveillance. So this evening when my father went to toilet, they came in our room. Room 666. My father always thought he was a bit of a devil. Anyway, they attacked us and kidnapped us. They must have used chloroform. When I woke up, I heard them talking to the hotel staff on the telephone. So that they could tell them the secret which will bring embarrassment to our family and party.”

“But if they were talking to the staff, the public already knows it, don’t they?”

“No, no. They were having a hard time getting through IVR. Those stupid fools were looking for ‘If you want to embarrass Bush family press …’. I managed to get out. But I was found out. And they shot me. Do this dying man a favor. Go to the hotel…”

“Where the hell is it?”

“Yup, that’s the name.”

“No, no. Where the hell is the hotel?”

“How the hell do I know? Can’t you see from the name that even the owners don’t know where the hell is it?”

“Then how do I find it?”

“Just tell the cab driver.”

“But if even the owners don’t know where the hell is ‘wherethehellisit’, then how the hell will a cab driver know?”

“How the hell do I know that how the hell the cab drivers know?”

“Oh just leave it. After I reach the hotel what am I supposed to do?”

“After you get there, go to room 666. There is an attached toilet to the room. Just go inside and…”

“And?”

“Flush the toilet.”

“Flush the toilet?”

“Flush the toilet.” Confirmed the old man.

“That’s it?”

“What do you mean ‘That’s it’? You don’t want the hotel staff going around in public and saying that the men from Bush family don’t even flush the toilet after they have used it!”

“Oh, I think you are right.” Suddenly a sense of purpose was filling Dixcy’s heart. “I will do it. I will do it even if I have to die for the cause.”

“Thank you, son. May god never let your toilet remain unflushed. The good name of the Bush family rests on your shoulders.”

And the old man’s body went limp leaving Dixcy with a sense of achievement. To be trusted by somebody with the good name of his family was a thing to be proud of. He laid the old man down.

“You fool, you didn’t even ask me for a key!”

Dixcy almost suffered a heart attack due to the shock. He took the key from the old man who then seemed to die again. Dixcy triple checked that the old man really was dead. And then ran for the nearest cab stand.

But there was another gunshot. The bullet missed Dixcy by mere inches. He stood where he was, absolutely still. A man suddenly came out of the darkness, just like the old Bush had. He had a gun in his hand. Dixcy identified it as a German mouser, a big, deadly weapon.

“You were watching us” said Dixcy.

“You are a bright kid.”

“No, it’s only that I have read too many thrillers. Why did you wait for so long?”

“I may be cruel but I am not so bad as to ruin the final melodramatic moment of an old man. Put your hands on you head and turn around.” The man was advancing towards him now.

Suddenly Dixcy became aware of what was in his hands. A banana peel! If he could just drop it in the assassin’s path. He dropped it while raising his hands and turned around. In the pitch dark night and the noises made by the dogs; the assassin missed the event altogether. Dixcy heard a ‘thud’ and a lot of swearing. He grabbed the opportunity and ran for his life. To his immense relief he did not hear another gun shot and found a cab right away.

“Take me to ‘wherethehellisit’.”

“Right away, sir.”

The trip took a long time. Dixcy tried to notice the road signs and remember the route. But there was absolutely nothing on the roads.

“How do you remember this route to ‘wherethehellisit’?” he asked the cab driver.

“How the hell do I know that, sir.”

“All right, all right.”

He reached the hotel. He took out his wallet to pay the cabbie and found an unnaturally large amount of money in it. He paid off the cab and almost ran through the main lobby up the stairs to the 6th floor. But he just couldn’t find Room 666. He went back to the reception.

“Where is Room 666?” Dixcy asked the receptionist.

“In the basement, sir.” Said the receptionist in a way which suggested that he actually wanted to say “Where else you idiot?”

“In the basement!”

“Yes, sir. You see it’s the devil’s number.”

This time Dixcy ran down the stairs and promptly found 666. It was the only room in the basement. His hands were shaking with excitement. After all you don’t get the chance to smash an international scandal every day. He fumbled with the key but managed to open the door. He immediately found the door to the toilet. He opened it and froze then and there.

The assassin was standing there with a very small Liliput in his hand. The toilet smelled very foul indeed. Sweat broke out all over Dixcy. He had not seen the assassin properly in darkness. He was short but heavily built, dark and bald. His black eyes were as cold as ice. Merely looking at them gave Dixcy the chills.

“My cabbie knew a shortcut.” The assassin smiled.

“Back there you had a Mouser.” Dixcy said nervously.

“Yes. But when I slipped I dropped it. Couldn’t find it in the darkness. I had this small toy with me. But it was in a secret pocket in my underwear so that, you know, nobody finds it. But it makes the underwear very tight. It took me all the time in the world to get it out. Otherwise I would have shot you there itself.” He sounded a bit embarrassed. “But I can finish off the job now.” He smiled. A cold cold smile. The smell was getting fouler by the minute. Dixcy found it very suffocating.

“The only thing I have not yet decided is whether I shoot you and let you die humanely or kill you with this smell.” Said the assassin. The smell would soon become strong enough to kill a person. A normal person.

“How can you stand this smell?”

“I have been thoroughly trained for any situation.”

Right, thought Dixcy. He must have been made to lie down while the whole country farted in his face. That would have certainly trained him for this situation. But his own situation was becoming quite desperate now. He had to find a way soon. But if he tried to run from the smell, he would be shot dead. And if he didn’t, due to the smell he would drop dead. He took a gamble.

“Hey, look there.” He pointed over the right shoulder of the assassin.

“Don’t even try it kid. I am superbly trained. If somebody tries that over my right shoulder I know he is faking.”

“Oh, then look there.” This time Dixcy pointed over his left shoulder.

“What’s that?” the assassin was startled. He looked behind his left shoulder.

At that moment Dixcy dived forward in Rugby style at the assassin’s midriff. But he might have got better results if he had tried to tackle a brick wall. The assassin simply caught him and hurled him away in the corner. Now he was coming towards Dixcy again. Dixcy frantically groped around him and threw a wad of toilet paper at the assassin. To his astonishment, the assassin gave a cry of terror and dropped his gun. Dixcy took the gun and quickly walked down and flushed the toilet. He sighed with relief. He had averted a big international scandal. The smell started to clear away. Now that he was relatively safe, he thought the men from Bush family do shit very smelly.

The assassin was still shouting in terror. He was curled up in a corner and looking at the wad of toilet paper as if it was a bomb. Dixcy picked up the wad. The assassin stopped shouting but was still looking very nervously at it.

“What the hell just happened?” Dixcy wondered aloud.

“Don’t you throw that at me again. I am allergic to the tissue paper.”

“Oh. But then, err, how do you wash your, you know…”

“Aren’t there any clothes in this world!”

“Oh, got it.” Dixcy was enjoying this now. “Say I throw this at you again, just for kicks?”

“Don’t. You b******, a****** ….”

The voice seemed vaguely familiar to Dixcy.

“You b******, a******, stop shouting in your sleep.”

Dixcy woke up with a start. It was Shikhandi.

“You idiot, you ruined all our sleeps.”

Dixcy saw Marvin and Ramlal had also woken up. Dixcy was drenched in sweat.

“Take this towel” said Ramlal.

“What the hell were you dreaming about?” – Shikhandi.

“wherethehellisit” said Dixcy.

“This is your room, you idiot.”

“No, no. I was dreaming about ‘wherethehellisit’.” And he narrated his dream. “You see I just averted a major international incident.”

“By flushing the toilet?”

“By flushing the toilet.”

“Oh god, just go back to sleep, will you? And for god’s sake stop reading those cheap thrillers.”

“Hey, Ok. I am sleeping. Don’t you say a thing about my collection.”

“Collection? You call these cheap paperbacks a collection? Your dreams have made a bloody insomniac out of me.”

“You think you have problems? Look at me…” – Marvin.

“Oh just shut up Marvin. Go back to sleep.”

“As if sleeping will make life any easy.”

Shikhandi took deep breaths. Seemed to regain a bit of control. “Now that everything is sorted out, I think we should go back to sleep.”

Everybody agreed, went back to their beds. Shikhandi switched off the lights.

“You didn’t think about me even in your dreams. Nobody wants me. Life…”

“Shut up Marvin.”

“Yes, you just want me to lie on my bed and think about this miserable life of mine, don’t you?”

“Yes, please do that.”

“Fine.”

And this is the story of these 4 people and their adventure. Shikhandi, Dixcy, Ramlal and Marvin – The Robot.

Swearwords and Girls......

Statutory warning :- Using swearwords at wrong places can be injurious to health. Do not use them in front of girls, as much for the (supposedly) bad manners as for your relationship and health.

Swearwords are an integral part of any man’s vocabulary today. They form the very core of our existence. They are the expressions we use to show a variety of emotions. Love, hate, disgust, contempt, admiration, pain, relief, joy or any other conceivable emotion. And the great thing about these swearwords is often we can use the same word for all these expressions. Usually everyone has his pet swear word and that word is used – as I said – to express every emotion. Only the intonation differs, of course. For us it is almost a daily routine. But they sound most out of place when uttered by our female friends. And the situation becomes even more awkward when they don’t know the meaning of the word they say and ask you to explain. As a man who has had a considerable experience with the female counterpart of our species, I have gone through some of these experiences myself.

Once, when I was in college, our Preparation Leave (PL) was going on. And after a marathon effort of studying for half an hour, I needed a change. So I logged on to the messenger to see if I could find someone to chat with. Luckily, a friend (of course, a girl) was online. She had just had her oral exam the day before. So here is how the conversation went:-

“Hey, hi”

“Hi”

“How was your oral?”

“I got screwed”

!!!!!?????

“Hellooooo”

“What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything. I typed” (So clever)

“Yes, yes. What did you type?”

“I got screwed”

“What happened?”

“I had not prepared and he (the examiner, I hoped) was asking silly things. I couldn’t answer. He totally screwed me (there she goes again)”

“Oh, OK”

“What happened? Did I say anything wrong?”

“Not really, it’s just that I am not used to listening to swearwords from a girl. So when you said that you were screwed, it just didn’t seem right (god forgive me for saying this)”

“It is a swearword? But isn’t it an idiom suggesting that something bad has happened?”

“Not really (oh my god!!!)”

“Tell me what does it mean?”

“I am not so sure that it's a good idea”

“Tell me now” – in a typically girlish manner, when they are angry.

“……………………………………………. That’s what it means”

“How dare you say such things to a girl? You are a . I never want to talk to you again”

“!!!!!!!!!!!??????But hey, wait. Listen to me…” – but she was already offline.

Now, what can you do in such a situation? I have not heard from her since. And this was not my only experience. There was another incident which I just cannot forget. We guys like to start early as far as swearing is concerned. But when we are young, it’s pretty harmless and childish. So when I was younger, a lot younger, I started with “Oh, shit”.

I used to go to a playground near my house where all of us friends used to play together. This is the place where I got my preliminary education in swearing. And while playing cricket, we used to religiously use “Oh, shit” at every missed opportunity, be it a missed boundary or a catch or a stumping. Everybody used to say it, but as fate had it, I had a loud, strong, booming voice. Needless to say there also used to be a few girls playing their own games. And one day, one of those girls came to ask me what I kept on shouting and what its meaning was. At that young age I was oblivious to the dangers of explaining a swearword to a girl and innocent of the calamities it might bring. I duly told her exactly what I shouted and what it meant. And being a person who has an eye for the details, it was a fairly detailed and colorful description (oh, the joys of speaking such things in the childhood!). Usually the girls used to leave early and we boys used to stay back a bit longer. And that day when I reached home, we had a guest. And there are no prizes for guessing that it was the girl’s father. The thrashing I received that night will be etched on my mind (and my body) for eternity. I dimly remember my father telling my mother, “Jau de, lahan aahe (let it go, he is just a child).” My brother (for once) sympathized with me (perhaps he had some experience). But I had learnt my lesson. Even today I don’t use “Oh, shit”, not even by mistake.

But the experience is not bad every time. There are some pleasant surprises in store as well. Once on the day of the 20-20 world cup final between India and Pakistan, I had the misfortune of having to go out on a date. Never imagining that India will reach the final, I had already promised my girlfriend to go out. But I chose the restaurant very wisely. The Bamboo House. It showed the match on a big screen. It meant a hefty sum will leave my account as the restaurant was very expensive, but I could do anything not to miss the match. I timed our arrival to match with the 20 minutes innings break. In such a match the emotions run very high and so do the swear words. The Pakistan inning started.

I was constantly looking at the screen and to my relief and surprise, so was my girlfriend.

Pakistan lost an early wicket. And I shouted, “Go back you s..s..stupid idiot (realizing I was with my girlfriend).”

Sreesanth bowled a poor over, “This a..a..anari cannot even bowl straight!”

Afridi got out, “Got him. We got the b..b..bhikhari!” Oh god, I was feeling so strangled and humiliated for using such c..c..champak swearwords. What will my friends say if they come to know about this!

For this one luckily the waiter was standing nearby. Misbah-ul-haq hit joginder for a six, “Oh f..f..fulke le aa bhai.”

“Sir yaha pe fulke nahi milte.”

“To roti le aa yaar.”

And soon we won the match (I knew it all along), everybody was overjoyed. We shouted, we whistled, everybody hugged everybody. Even my girlfriend who is against any ‘public display of affection’ was jumping with joy and (incredibly) hugged me. Slowly, everybody settled down to their dinners. Ladies pulled out their pocket (or should I say purse) mirrors to check their make up. Men resumed eating, content with proceedings.

And suddenly, “Oh f***, you messed up my hair.”

I looked at my girlfriend open mouthed. I was dumb founded. And she realized what she had said.

“Oh shit! I said **** .”

And again I looked at her disbelievingly.

“Oh shit! I said shit!” - she was almost hysterical.

I had regained control by now, “Hey, calm down and don’t worry. Just go to the wash room and get your hair in order.” I wondered why she was all worked up for swearing, I did it all the time. Girls, I concluded, I will never understand them.

When she came back she was back in control of herself. She said “Thanks” and I wondered. Perhaps I may get some additional ‘affection’ when I drop her at her home. Well, it was a possibility anyway and it doesn’t harm anybody to dream.

So boys, I strongly recommend not to use the swearwords in front of the girls. Not only is it bad manners, but also it can be fatal to your relationship and health (Read the statutory warning, in case you have not).

Nowadays, being in the ‘corporate’ world I have changed a lot and attained a fair degree of control over what I say in public places (meaning where there are girls). But then, every once in a while, college friends come to visit and the first word uttered (by all of us) is the favorite swearword brought out from deep within. And I think I have not changed at all.

A (not so) handsome face

The face in front of me did not reflect a person who is happy, healthy and well. The area around the right eye was unnaturally swollen and looked terrible. To be honest, that face was never really handsome, in fact even calling it good looking would be a bit of an over statement. It had not only suffered a physical distortion but also had lost the curly hair. What Urvakhsha’s (UK) face was really missing though, was a permanently resident expression of mischief which gave his face the light and the life. It was tired. It showed his longing for someone to tell him that everything was going to be fine. He was looking much happier to be back amongst the friends but he wasn’t the UK I knew. He was going back home to continue his treatment. That was the last time I saw one of my best friends.

* * *

I don’t remember when I met UK for the first time. I never remember such things. But I do remember that my first impression of him was that he was a freak. I mean, what will you think about a person who has put a thin cylindrical piece of wood resembling cigarette in his mouth and is trying to light its free end and pretend to be smoking? Right, a freak! And that’s partly what he was really. In my first year I used to maintain my distance from him for his slightly eccentric ways which I must admit, considering that he was a bawa, seemed very normal later on. He was especially adept at teaming up with kaykhusru Lawyer (felt weird writing this, so guys it’s keku from here on in) and thinking of some very weird ways to torment one Mr. Zareer Karanjawala. I say weird because they included stealing his slippers and planting them in someone else’s room, setting his alarm clock to go at any other inconvenient time but the one set by him etc. etc.

He considered it his misfortune that his roll number (59) was right before me (60). I don’t know where he got the weird notion – that I am very good at oral exams – in his mind. He always used to curse me even if I gave only 2 answers (out of 10) correct (perhaps it had something to do with the fact that he mostly managed 1 or none). We have had some extremely interesting experiences in the internal oral exams. There was one particular incidence for which he always used to blame me. It was the oral of C programming in our 1st year. We had learnt absolutely nothing through the semester (and we had also guessed that our teacher didn’t know much either). And before the exam some knowledgeable(?) people were saying heavy words like arrays and functions (imagine our lack of preparation, we found array a heavy word). And out came the batch before us.

“Agle 3 log andar jao be”

“Abe, kya kya puchh rahi hai?”

“Kuchh nahi na be, bahot panchat puchh rahi hai. Bahot easy hai, tension mat lo” – Nikhil (who else?).

So, in we went – Roll nos. 59, 60, 61 – as confident as a mouse that has set out on a mission of tying a bell around a cat’s neck.

“Sit down” – said the teacher with feeble ‘thank you’ from us in response. “So what do you know about C?” – She asked.

Vishal burst out, “Madam, I don’t know anything about C. I have studied BASIC in the school. I can tell you only about BASIC.”

We were horrified! Where did this b@#%^#$ study BASIC? And we didn’t even know that much, how were we supposed go through this oral!! We were very tensed out by this (yes, like everybody else, we felt tense about orals in our 1st year).

“OK. What about you two? Can I ask you about C?” again, very feeble sound closely resembling ‘yes’ came from our mouth.

“Good”. Then she asked Vishal something related to BASIC. “You write down a program for adding 2 integers” – to UK. He actually took the pen and paper quite assuredly. “And you tell me what a variable is?”

I felt some sense returning to me. I answered confidently. By that time Vishal had finished his task. She looked at the paper uncomprehendingly. Now UK was also finished with his program. She took the paper but without examining it, she gave the paper to me.

“Study this and tell me whether there are any mistakes” – UK looked confident. I think he had guessed just what I had guessed, she didn’t know whether there were any mistakes in the program. Anyway, I took the paper and saw the program. UK’s handwriting was wretched to say the least. I found it hard to understand. But there was a glaring mistake in every statement he had written which did not require me to understand his writing. He had not ended every statement of his with a semicolon. And before I could control myself I said “There are at least 5 mistakes in this program”.

No sooner did I say it than I wanted to bite my tongue off. UK looked at me disbelievingly. If I had not mentioned it the teacher would not have guessed it at all. Because, today I can tell that even after adding semicolons, there must have been at least 10 more mistakes (in only those 5 statements). But after I had added the semicolons (I had to, as I had shot my mouth off), the teacher looked at it and said to UK – “Now, this is a correct program” adding insult to injury.

No wonder, since then he has detested giving orals with me.

We came a lot closer in our 2nd year. Mostly due to Rotaract (club of Sangli) and the fact that we lived in the same lobby. It was in the 2nd year that we sort of started to hang out together. We had a lot of fun that year. Mostly at the expense of his next room neighbor (the room towards the lavatory) whom I will not name here. I was a pretty regular visitor to his room (after all the room had a TV). But it was really the 3rd year where our friendship took off.

We had started to form some sort of a bond between us. There were many occasions where the two of us would just sit down and let it all out. We would talk on the club, our own friend circles and how to tease some of the others in the college. It is a different thing that mostly it was wishful thinking and we never implemented it but it was fun all right. And then there were those occasions at Vishrambag railway station. We used to just pick up a bottle or two of beer or some other liquor, a bottle (for me) of soft drink and some packets of chips and savor it all on the deserted railway station. There we would be with Vishal, Tejas – my room partner – and anyone else who wanted to come (it was mostly Sandy Kulkarni). And then we would just sit down and talk about anything and everything. With Sandy, politics was never far and when he wasn’t there we would talk on what is going to happen to the club (Rotaract), how the rest of the guys are stupid idiots and most importantly how to go about getting girls!! A point to be mentioned here, UK had a girl friend in 1st year. She dumped him (actually it should be “left” him, but writing “dumped” feels so much more satiating for a ‘lukkha’ like me) because he was doing engineering from a college in a ‘khedegaon’. It was pressure from her parents basically. Anyway, we used to enjoy these nights like hell. And the best part was yelling at the passing trains and then laughing like children after the train had gone. Boy, those were the best days of my life! And then – to top it all – came MUNA (Model United Nations Assembly).

MUNA is an event held by Rotaract every alternate year. As its full name suggests it is a miniature version of the actual United Nations Assembly. Here, a team of 2 represents some country in the real world. There are many teams depending upon the scope of the event conducted. And these teams discuss and argue (actually, try to beat the shit out of other teams) upon some of the real world issues called resolutions and then after the argument the resolutions are voted upon just like in a real United Nations Assembly.

MUNA was special not only for what happened on the 2 days when it was held but also for the days that went into its preparation. UK and I had decided to form a team. And CVJ Shastry – the then president – decided that we will represent Israel. It was a big thing as one of the two resolutions to be debated upon was directly related to Israel. A lot of preparation and research has to be done to provide effective arguments (again, actually to beat the shit out of other teams). But UK was an engineer to his very bones. And an unwritten law for engineers says “thou shall not study till thou can avoid it”. And he could avoid preparation for now. So he did. His laziness was infectious and awe inspiring. It demanded following. And so I followed. We both did nothing till there were only a couple of weeks left for the event. This was the time when his health started declining.

For those 2 weeks we prepared hard. We went to net cafes, searched and printed out the material, poured over it and prepared drafts of the speeches we were going to make. We received some very useful help from US of A team. And we were prepared or rather we hoped we were prepared. On the first day of the event we got ready and went to the venue. It was very small (only about 20-22 teams, I don’t remember the exact number), but the way it was set was very intimidating. It was a rectangular hall with a dais along one of the smaller sides of the hall. The Chairman would sit there. And also the participant (henceforth called ‘Delegate’) delivering speech would deliver it from there. Some 12-15 feet from the dais long wooden steps were built. And on these steps were the sitting places (tables) for the teams in an alphabetical order, starting with Afghanistan. On the tables were flags of the countries that the teams represented. I went and stood on the dais. I imagined all the teams sitting there and me delivering my speech. I finished the speech and looked up; everybody was literally jumping in their seats with raised hands trying to nail me then and there with their questions. My guts rolled over in my stomach. I stopped imagining. UK looked at me with a smile and said “Chal, breakfast karte hai”. I was only too glad to oblige him.

The event started with a Group Discussion amongst the teams. Some details about who would be the first and last to speak on each resolution were finalized. Michael David Sir, who was to chair the event, gave us an introduction of MUNA. And we started. The first to come was the delegate of Iran. He came, delivered his speech, waited a couple of seconds to see if there were any questions and upon finding that there were none went to his seat. We blinked. We looked at each other, panic stricken. We had not understood even a word of what was said in the speech. We were supposed to screw him like anything. But how can you do that when you don’t even know what he has said? It went downhill from then till lunch. And then the president came to us.

“What are you two doing? Israel should be aggressive; you should be asking more questions guys.”

We assured him that we will do so and decided to ask any possible thing to every team. With this strategy the rest of the day was better. And then came UK’s chance to speak. I knew he was ill. He had not prepared much in the last few days. He was also feeling a bit weak. I was worried. But I really need not have bothered. Because the performance that he gave was nothing less than sterling. His poise, his body language, his superb imitation of Israeli (superior and confidant) demeanor and attitude, his quick wittedness in answering questions and his every pronunciation was outstanding. His overall performance was a bright spark in an otherwise dull first day.

The second day was much more interesting with lots of heated debates and smart lines. Even my speech went without many hiccups. MUNA ended there. All that was remaining was to announce winners. We were pretty satisfied with our performance. The Prize Distribution was a tense affair. But, we managed to win everything there was to win. UK also won a very much deserved special performance award from the judges. After the Prize Distribution, we just sat there thinking about what had happened. We looked at each other and something connected. We both barely had time for a smile and a nod before others came swarming towards us to hug and to congratulate. That was something truly amazing and fantastic. A few days later, he went home to rest and get some treatment. He was to be back in a week’s time.

But it took a long time. All I heard was that he needed some more treatment.

It was nearing the end of the year. It was time to decide club’s new board. And so I and Nikhil were in Shastry’s room mulling over these things when Shastry asked Nikhil,”How is UK?”

Nikhil looked skeptically at me, seemed to decide something and said, “Doctors say he may need Chemotherapy.”

I was stunned. Did he say Chemotherapy? It cannot be! Surely UK would have told me, if it was that serious. But Shastry was not surprised to hear this. Anger was rising in my head. So, the whole world knew and he wouldn’t tell me! And even these people did not think it fit to tell me! But, he just had some minor problem, didn’t he?

“He will be coming for his exams only. Doesn’t want to lose out on a year.” – Nikhil.

This was assuring. This meant things were not out of hand and could be brought under control. I didn’t say anything. Some more things were discussed and we went to our rooms. I just sat in my room, not noticing anything. I tried to sleep but it wouldn’t come. It seemed just yesterday when we smiled at each other and I had thought we understood each other perfectly at that moment; just the way best friends often do. And now he didn’t even care about telling me what he was going through. Bitter resentment was beginning to well up within me. And I put him determinedly out of my head.

He came for his exams. He was not looking good. He was not his usual mischievous self. He smiled occasionally. Seemed happy to be with us. He tried his best to study and pass. He was going back on the day the exams were over. We took him to Snow Den (a local café). We had a lot of fun and that seemed to cheer him up. While coming back I got a private moment with him. And as I was feeling very bitter, the first thing I said was, “Tu at least muze to bata sakta tha!!”

He didn’t look surprised or taken aback. In fact he looked as if he knew this was going to come up.

“Maine sirf isliye nahi bola kyuki muze nahi pata tha tu kaise handle karega.”

I felt ashamed. I could not look at him. It was an uncomfortable moment of silence. And instead of me comforting him, he clapped on my shoulder and said, “Tension mat le be. Doctor bola hai sab thik ho jayega.” And he smiled at me. I merely nodded.

I saw him again when he came to give exams once more. He looked a lot worse and less assured. He also looked very tired. The treatment was taking a heavy toll on him. He said, “Agle sal tum nahi rahoge to bahot bore hoga mereko.”

But the next year never came. Only Shahrukh came with the news that UK was no more. One of my dearest and best friends was no more. I felt down and out. A person without whose memories my life will never be complete had deserted me. My companion in Rotaract had left me all alone. I had known that life without him will not quite be same again. I had forgotten the number of times in my 4th year I had said to myself – if only UK was here. I could have talked to him and we both could have let out our frustration by sitting together and laughing it out. We could again have gone to the Vishrambag railway station and yelled at passing trains. And perhaps participated together in another MUNA representing Bhutan. We could have given orals together and I wouldn’t mind how much he cursed me for telling teachers that he was wrong. We could have acted on the numerous plans we hatched of teasing and harassing people. We could have been in the same company, working together. He would tell me about his new girlfriend and how he was better off being single. If only UK was here – we could have done so many things.

Trip to Mumbai was a blur. We met his parents, his brother, his grandmother and his aunt. His aunt told us how very bravely he fought. Not giving up despite all the pain. I believed her. I knew he had a very strong will power. We came back to Sangli. I was and still am determined to remember him for what he was before that dreadful disease took him away from me. A freak. A smiling, mischievous, lazy, irritating freak.

When we went to Mumbai, I couldn’t even see his face for the last time. But then to be honest, that face was never really handsome, was it?

- In loving memory of my dear friend Urvakhsha Kathawalla, without whom my team will never be complete.

You are to me...

I am not much of a poet, but i have tried to put my feelings in a poem here. This is a dedication to all my friends, my family and especially my brother and sister, without whom i wouldn't be me...

You are to me what life is to living...
My shadow, my teacher, my friend, all my sins forgiving.

You are to me what flow is to river…
My speed, my trait, my strength, one who leaves me never.

You are to me what color is to flower…
My beauty, my feature, my identity, which will make me likable forever.

You are to me what water is to fish…
My life, my world, the inevitability, only within which my life is full of bliss.

You are to me what rainbow is to eyes…
The colors, the beauty, the pleasure which adds splendor to my life.

You are to me what light is to dark…
My hope, my dream, my boon to provide me when the conditions are stark.

You are to me what a goal is to achiever…
My destination, my incentive, my triumph where lie joys and glory galore.

You are to me what only you can be to me…
My pride, my guide, my soul without whom i wouldn't be!

A Happy Man

I was in a foul mood (don’t say what’s new in that). In fact my whole project batch was. Our project guide had just bashed us for a ‘Pathetic job that you have managed to do throughout the year’. “The project is not even 40% complete” he said. And as usual we were cursing him.

“Does he himself know how to declare a variable in ASP.NET!!” - Nikhil.

“He cannot even guide us if we have any technical problems!!” – Shirish.

“He must be the worst project guide in the world, in fact, I should say in the whole universe!!” – Vishal.

“That stupid s*%#@%&*@ !!” – Me (who else!).

And so it went on throughout the day. Something or the other kept annoying me and the whole day was wretched. As I was about to go to sleep that night I thought our project guide was not happy with our work; we in turn were not happy with him. In fact all around the world everybody keeps cursing someone because they are not happy. Friends curse friends, teachers curse students who in turn curse them, employees curse their boss and vice versa, politicians curse people and vice versa. And I wondered whether there is a happy soul in this world who actually likes and loves what he/she is. Finding that person will really be a tough task. And so I thought this will be a good time-pass in the PL. So, I decided to go on a quest to find that happy soul and ask him/her the secret of happiness. With this resolve I went to sleep.

* * *

I looked at the clock and thought it must be showing wrong time. 1 O’clock, surely I have not slept for 15 hours. Then I tried to concentrate on the reason why I was waking up and I realized that someone was kicking me.

“Wake up you good for nothing pothead and study!!” – Tejas.

I woke up and got done with my morning routine. When I came to my room I found Tejas studying or rather trying to study. With him it was always like this. He has to have some time-pass along with his books. When he saw me getting ready to go out he asked – “Where are you going?”

I told him as I always do. We never hide anything between ourselves (or at least I think so). He did not laugh as I had expected. He just shook his head. “Why can’t you act normal for once? Only 10 days are remaining for exams. Why don’t you study instead of going on this shit mission of yours?”

“Relax partner, there are still 10 days!! 2 days for each subject and I will pass. Don’t worry.”

He again just shook his head. This time he really looked like my father after we have had a discussion on… ammm…any topic!! I always took it as a sign of encouragement. So, after all I was ready to go on my mission.

* * *

I came back in the evening fully depressed. No one in this world seemed happy. And as I always do when I am depressed I called my father. I told him everything. And then I asked - “Dad why is it that these people keep trying to find excuses to run away from happiness when happiness is all that you seek in life?”

Dad said – “Because people love excuses. Then it doesn’t matter whether they are to run away from responsibility or happiness.”

“But why can’t just they be happy?”

“As I already told you people want and have excuses for everything in life. It is how you look at them. Whether you look at them as excuses to run away from happiness or as challenges to remain happy. This decides whether you can be happy or not.”

“Then what is happiness?”

“Happiness is a state of mind. Always remember this – ‘you are only as happy as you think you are’. So being happy is up to you.”

“So how do I become happy?”

“Haven’t you understood? It is up to you! Ok. Tell me have you discussed this with your friends?”

“No.”

“Then do it and hopefully you will understand.”

So I went to Neeraj and Ashish’s room where we usually gather for time-pass. All were there. Parag, Omkar and obviously Neeraj and Ashish. I gave them all the background and they all burst out laughing. I said – “Let me know when you become serious so that I can tell you further.”

I am their senior so they instantly became serious. Although I could see that they were having a tough time suppressing their laughter. I started,

“So after telling Tejas I went out and wondered where to go and what I actually needed to do. Then I heard a sound which only a large gathering of people can make. I was curious. I went to find the source of that sound and found out that a crowd was gathered to see shooting of some film and that a famous actor was taking part in it. I pushed my way forward to see what was going on. A supposedly romantic scene was being shot,

“Actor – ‘Main tumhare liye kuchh bhi kar sakta hu Jaanam!!’”

“Should have asked him to pee in the pants” – Parag, laughing like a madman.

“Imagine him actually doing it! Girl’s reaction would have been ultimate! Watching with horror as a man peeing in his pants is proposing her!” – Ashish.

“And she would have had to accept!” – Omkar.

At this even I could not help laughing till my stomach hurt and my eyes were filled with tears. After a while the laughter subsided and I continued,

“I will leave rest of the scene out of it. Then I thought – ‘If anyone in this world is happy it must be an actor. Always getting to be different personalities and all that artistic satisfaction. I must seek him.’ Fortunately getting a word with an actor is easy. After the scene I went and pretended that I was his biggest fan and that I had watched every one of his movies. He seemed very pleased. Then I asked,

‘You must be very happy with what you are.’

‘To be honest I am not at all happy. I would give anything to become an engineer (if only he knew).’

‘But you get to do what you want with all those different types of roles.’

‘Not at all. If you look at my last 15 movies I have only played the lover boy role.’

‘But people love you for that.’

‘Yes, but I want to do different roles. And they do not like it. Further being famous also takes away my freedom and brings many scandals in my life.’

‘So you are not happy?’

‘No way. I am the least happy man that you can get.’

“I confess that I was disappointed. Despite having so many fans, huge wealth and fame the actor was not happy. So, I wondered who should I go to. And then I thought a doctor is the person I want to see. With all the respect and social prestige he has, he must be the happiest among all. So I turned towards Dr. xxxxxx’s clinic as I had a slight acquaintance with him.”

“Him? Last time when Sudarshan was ill we took the case to him. He said hurry him to the specialist otherwise he may go into a coma. And then the specialist said he has dehydration.” – Neeraj said and everybody smiled remembering the incident. “He also bores you with his PJ’s. Once when I went to him he asked – ‘Why is pepe jeans so expensive?’ I said I don’t know. He answered – ‘So simple. Because you have to pay twice. Pay-pay.’ ” Another round of laughter. When it subsided I continued,

“So as I was saying I went to see him. After the preliminaries and assuring him that I was not ill and hence needed no injections I came to the point.

‘Sir, are you happy with what you are?’

‘Do you want an honest answer?’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Then no. I am not at all happy with who I am. No peace of mind. I am constantly on duty as I never know when an emergency may come up.’

‘But you earn so much of money.’

‘Yes, but where is the time to spend it! Someone is getting ill all the time.’

‘But you also have so much of respect and social prestige.’

‘You should see what I have to hear when my diagnosis goes wrong. People don’t remember to pay respect then.’

‘So you are not happy?’

‘Not at all. By the way do you know what you call a thing that kills man?’

I did not know, but I risked a guess – ‘A doctor?’

‘No. you call it Man-Mar (Myanmar).’ But I could see he was not pleased with my answer.

“So I got out of his clinic and thought that even a doctor with a God like social status is not happy so who else should I go to. And I wandered off in my thoughts. I don’t know how much I walked but I came to a halt in front of a police station. And suddenly I thought this is one satisfying job. Cleaning the criminals from the society. So I went in seeking a word with the police inspector (you are not supposed to ask how such important people had time for me. This is a liberty that the author can take.). He seemed a bit relieved because he had just caught a notorious criminal. I thought he must be happy.

‘Sir, are you happy with what you are?’

‘Are you a press reporter? If you are, then I am very happy.’

‘No, no, sir, you are misunderstanding.’ And I gave him all the background.

‘Oh… I don’t think you will find any. At least I am not happy. Daily tensions whether I will go home or not. Plus all the low salaries and stuff that goes with government job.’

‘But what about the satisfaction of removing criminals from society?’

‘With precisely this thought I had joined police 10 years ago. But after all these years I have come to know that all a man wants is a peaceful meal with his wife with no fear of a bullet coming from somewhere and killing him.’

“I was again disappointed but understood. I felt sad about how people with such high goals are disappointed and changed by the system into disillusioned individuals. Now where do I go? I suddenly remembered I had not eaten anything since morning. So, I went to a nearby restaurant and settled for a dinner. In the corner I saw a man, presumably a middle class man, sitting with his wife and two children enjoying his dinner and having a great time. And I remembered that often simple people are the happiest people in the world. So I decided to talk to this man. But how, was the question. Suddenly the man rose and asked waiter for the toilet. This is my chance I thought. I went in after him. When he was through I said,

‘Good evening sir. My name is Prasad.’

‘Good evening. Do I know you?’ he was confused.

“I told him my story in short and asked him the same question,

‘Are you happy with what you are?’

“Like a man who was being relieved of a huge burden he started speaking,

‘I am a very worried man because I always have problem to make ends meet. I have a lovely wife and two children and money never seems enough. I have to pay installments for loans on car and house. I wonder when I will be a free man again.’

‘But you have a family that loves you very much and will stand by you through thick and thin.’
‘But you cannot survive on love alone. You need money for that.’

“I was getting irritated with his overemphasis on money. And I knew there was no point in pursuing this discussion further. So, I thanked him and went on my way without noticing that I still had not eaten anything. I was thoroughly frustrated, irritated and disillusioned. I wondered whether there is a happy person in this world.

“And this guys, is the whole story.”

After several seconds of silence Parag said – “don’t take tension yaar. I know how to make you happy. Let’s go out.”

We all went out and had a lot of fun. More than we usually do. I was already feeling better. We came back after a while. As I was going to my room Nikhil Kulkarni came to me and said – “Chaps I just read this on the potter site. A new clue about the 7th horcrux. You won’t believe what they have to say.” And we discussed it for about an hour. Then as per my habit of these days I was about to call my sister. But suddenly my mobile rang and it was her. A smile spread on my lips. Tonight the sound of her voice was even sweeter.

After I was done talking with her I just changed and lay on the bed thinking.
I thought, I have friends who know how to change my mood and make it cheerful. I thought, I have friends who know exactly what I like and wait to discuss it with me. I thought, I have a great sister who always listens to me when I want to speak and never complains. I thought, I have a family who love me so much and are always there to guide me. And I remembered, “You are only as happy as you think you are”.

And I thought, I am the happiest person on this earth.

My affair with talent

Talent is one thing which I have never possessed in my life. My parents always used to say, in fact, are used to saying that there has never been a dud like me in the whole family. And I have been trying to make up for it throughout whatever life I have had. And there is no need to say I have failed miserably every time. I find it a miracle that I have made it so far in engineering. As I was saying, I have goofed up every time I tried to do something clever. So I thought if I give my parents a talented daughter in law perhaps that will make them happy. And so my affair(s) with talent began.

First up I thought that talent meant getting good marks. So I started to look up for the most intelligent girl in my class. And there she was! She was always the topper from my class (I won’t name her for obvious reasons). With her thick glasses and a large load of books on her shoulder, she wasn’t exactly the most beautiful girl, but as I said, very ‘talented’. And you won’t believe my luck; she fell for it (I later discovered it was because no other boy liked her)! So we started going out. I overlooked any whispering and giggling, when we passed by any group, very righteously and contemptuously. I made myself believe that they all were jealous of me. But to be honest, being with her wasn’t really exciting. She kept talking about books, subjects and marks (I hated the last part). She also vowed that she will make me study harder (I shuddered) and help me get good marks. But I endured. But finally when she proposed I had to let go. She said, “You are as inevitable to me as a human skeleton is to biology” (my friends still double up with laughter when I tell them this story). Considering my thin body (I would prefer to call it slim), I wondered whether I literally was important to her in the same way (considering her inclination towards medical science). And so, as I said, I let go. Later I remember overhearing her talking about ‘an excellent chance gone begging’.

Then I started looking for other girls who may be talented. And then I thought I had found the ‘Miss Perfect’ for me. She was the best in athletics in the whole school and also in the district (I never believed the latter). Again she was not the most attractive around but ‘talented’ nevertheless. So one day I asked her for a date and guess what, she said yes ( I later found out that it was because no other boy asked her out as she was taller than all of them)! Being with her wasn’t much fun either. She kept talking about people like Carl Lewis and Sergei Boobka (Who the hell was he? Or she?). She was also a health freak. After looking at my thin (slim) body she put me on a strict fitness regime to improve my health. As a result my weight dropped further. The regime became even harder. And I became even thinner (Slimmer). But when on a Valentine’s Day she proposed I had to let go. She said she loved me and added that “I will do everything in my capacity to make you as strong as Arnold Schwarzenegger” (Friends react in the same way as in the last case). I later heard that she referred to me as ‘that skinny street dog’. But I could put up with that so long as I did not have to do 25 push-ups and deeps each.

So this time I told myself that I have to be more careful. I did not want to mess it up again. I again started looking for ‘talented’ girls. This time I was a bit choosier, so I let pass many of the girls. And then I settled on one. She was strikingly beautiful and extremely good at music. She could not only sing very well but also play a handful of instruments like flute, veena, tabla, harmonium and saxophone (I like the sound of that).
So I found it surprising that she was still single (I was to learn the reason later on). So when I asked her out she agreed and I was overjoyed. And so our affair started. I was amazed to know that her whole family was made up of musicians and singers. Then when she told me that her family wanted a son in law (Wasn’t she being a little too fast?) who was good at music too, I was alarmed. But I thought I could do it. So, she forbid me from eating any sweets, from drinking soft drinks and obviously no oily stuff was allowed (how I missed butter chicken!). I kept my nerve. I went on through all the boring chats about classical music and even more boring music lessons she gave me on our dates ( Can you imagine that! Lessons on a date!). And obviously I wasn’t improving at all. So when she said while proposing that she will make me a great singer even if “I have to make you stand in cold water on freezing winter mornings” I had to say no thanks (For this one friends sympathize).

By now I somehow had a reputation of dumping girls so no one else accepted my proposals anymore. This way my affair(s) with talent was abruptly halted. But I have not given up. In fact if you are a talented girl reading this, will you go on a date with me?