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Writing

What is Marriage? What is not Marriage?

Jo khaaye woh pachhtaye; aur jo na khaye woh bhi pachhtaye; but what is the shaadi ka laddoo all about?

Sample this:

“Marriage is an interpersonal relationship with governmental, social, or religious recognition, usually intimate and sexual, and often created as a contract through custom, ballot or civil process. Civil marriage is the legal concept of marriage.

The reasons people marry vary, but usually include one or more of the following: legal, social and economic stability; the formation of a family unit; procreation and the education and nurturing of children; legitimizing sexual relations; public declaration of love.”

Whoa! And me and my wife thought that we had got together just because I loved her and she couldn’t take the fact that no other girl would ever marry me because of the way I am.

Jokes aside, isn’t that description an awful lot for the two people directly involved in it?

Especially when the majority of us are told – in a very simple, matter-of-the-fact style – from a young age that someday we are going to get married and have children. It’s spoon-fed to us in a steady diet between playing with baby dolls, cricket and computer games.

Girls, I presume, even more than boys are – if you allow me a little Jehadi language – ‘indoctrinated’ into this level of expectation. It becomes very natural to assume that marriage is the next step in the evolution of adulthood.
Amazingly, despite a family coming apart every single day across modern, urban India, the idea of romance remains the most romanticised institution between men and women.

Nothing wrong with that. Except that it doesn’t always turn out that way. And not everyone would want it to be that way!

Unfortunately, because of the conditioning of the society itself, it is always excepted to turn out according to the fairy-tale script and everyone is expected it to want it that way. Or else, one is very swiftly and decisively labeled as the ‘gundee machhlee’.

The point is, if a man and woman get married just because it is one those things that you do in life, then it is pretty much like taking up a job that you would rather not do given other options. It is like a terribly lazy person like me having to do a door-to-door sales job, just because I HAVE to do SOMETHING.

Fortunately, a majority of people do want to spend a very long time with ‘that someone special’. Fortunate because togetherness is something that almost always – except in the case of mad mobs – stand for a lot of good. It encourages love, mild behaviour, relaxed nerves, sense of belonging and support for each other and, most of all, a feeling of completeness, calm and peace.

Of course, I do have a couple of very close friends who tell me that they feel all of the above when being alone too. Some of them just joke about it, but a couple are actually bachelors. At 50 plus! And there are thousands like them across the globe who are single and happy – with or without any kind of physical relation with persons of the same or opposite gender. Clearly, marriage is not mandatory for either emotional or physical needs of a person; not in today’s world where you can have a virtual soul-mate at a social networking site and where teenagers ‘have already been there, done that’ about physical exploration.

And that’s what brings forth the beauty of the idea of marriage. And this comes from a man who is married for more than 4 decades (to the same person, if I may add so :-))

Marriage is two people desperately wanting to stay together – whether or not it involves physical relationship amongst the two.

It is certainly not downplaying the importance of physicality, neither in marriage nor in life in general. Physicality has an immensely important place in life. But my aforementioned take on marriage is just to reiterate that marriage based on either latent or urgent need for physicality is not going to last too long. For, as it is widely documented, humans too, by nature, are polygamous.

So, either you want to be with your partner and are hence ‘married’ to her or him, or you would rather not be with the partner. In that case, you are ‘not married’ to the person. And hence, in lieu of the prison statement, you are allowed to not follow the ‘oft-documented’ rules of marriage! Blasphemous?

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Book Extracts Shorts Writing

For Me, it was Love. Pure like Raindrops.

The following is an extract from I Am Ahmedabad, a collection of short stories

###

I am a HLCC (H L Commerce College) alumni. I can’t tell anything more about me here; because I have recently got married and am happy with life. And the story that I’m sharing here is not about my wife.

We were classmates. We used to hang out together with our group and used to have our own share of fun. Our regular addas used to be Red Rose, Shambhu’s and the LD kitli. But we had never met alone. Neither at HL nor at any of those places. And we did not even know each other’s home. So, in short, we were good friends of the same group.

But that day, it was raining like never before. A lot of areas of the city were water-logged and it was difficult to move around from one place to another. Luckily for me, the scenario had got worse only after she had left home for HL. So by the time the rains had become really wild, she had already reached HL.

So there she was, stuck at the college with no possibility of her turning back immediately. Simply because the rain was way too harsh for her to ride her Kinetic Honda back home. More than the rain, the idea of getting stuck into any of the potholes forced her to stay back. While we did have each others’ numbers, I was not the first one on her list of speed dials. But after a couple of calls to others in the group, she came to know that I stay nearby the college itself.

“Hi, I hope your parents would allow me to stay back at your place if the rain does not stop” – she tried to joke. But the fear and irritation was clear in her voice. Fear of ‘what now’ and irritation for ‘why did I have to come’.

“Wait, I’m coming there” – I say, after a bit of, nothing actually. She tried to stop me, but only faintly.

I was surprised at myself for wanting so badly to be with her at that moment.

Luckily, the college authorities allowed even students to drive straight up to the main building. There she was, sitting at front door, fiddling with her cell phone. I had never been happier seeing her. As I said, it was surprising.

But what took the cake was the wide, genuine smile on her face the moment she saw me.

“Oh God”. It was beautiful. Her beautiful face. Her beautiful smile. No, no – her beautiful wet face; her beautiful wet smile. It was then that I realised how much I had waited for the moment, while never being aware of it.

“Come in. At least the car has music.”

She almost rushed to the car with her now magical smile.

I had never, ever had brought car to the college. Simply because I live in the lane next to HL and coming on a bike is much more comfortable. And since no one else in my group had car, I thought it was not proper to do that too. And now, she was in my car with all the readiness of a school kid.

We could not help but keep smiling while sitting right there, at the college porch. I once suggested going somewhere for a drive. But I guess it was way too much, too soon for her. And yet, being the insistent me, I did convince her to go to towards the CEPT circle. Once there, we did more of the same – smile, talk and give each other a look of discovering a new friend.

We spent close to five hours in the car that day. And nothing except my bladder thought it to be anything more than one beautiful moment.

Unfortunately, the next morning itself was a routine one. That was two years ago. But when I think back, I think it was love. Pure like raindrops.

###

Categories
Book Extracts Shorts Writing

I’m Waiting for the Nightangle to Stop Singing – 2

The following is an extract from I Am Ahmedabad, a collection of short stories

###

Hi, this is Aditi. How may I help you?”

“Hi, this is Nishant again. I’m sorry our call had got cut the last time.”

“How did you get through the same person, me, again, so soon, Mr. Nishant”, the knowledge of Nishant’s background was unmistakable in Aditi’s voice.

“Well, I don’t know. I just dialled the call-center number again and I got you. If you wish, I can put the phone down.”

There’s silence for a moment. Aditi struggles to figure out whether Nishant was playing with her or was genuinely unaware. And then, she suddenly realises something.

“Why would you think that this is a call center, Mr. Nishant?”

(“Oops”) “Well”, Nishant re-arranges his thoughts, “I’ve just come back from the US and I know that most such helpline tasks are outsourced these days. So I thought, maybe, this one’s a call-center too”

“That’s so smart of you Mr. Nishant”, Aditi fires a little sarcasm at Nishant. “Yes, it indeed is a call center.”

“Oh, OK. Cool.”

“So, you like call centers, Mr. Nishant?”

(“Wow, she’s having a go at me!” ha ha) “Well, ya, sort of. Am in the same business.”

“I can see that in your records. NishTECH Valley Pvt. Ltd., that’s your Company, right Mr. Nishant?”

“Ya, it is. Cool.”

“And you want to now buy our Company. Right, Mr. Nishant?”

(“Whoa! She knows it? What should I say?”) (takes a moment and then laughs) “I wish I could, Ms. Aditi. Then at least my Company would have had a nightingale. Right Ms. Aditi.” (laughs again)

Aditi finally loses it: “Look mister, I don’t know who you are and how do you know my office name. I don’t even care if you are going to buy this Company or not. Because I’m going to leave this Company anyway. And so would a lot of others. I’m sure of it. But what I would like to know before that is how do you know about me.”

“What if I say that it’s a trade secret. And that I can’t tell you?”

“What if I bang the phone down on you right now?”

“What if I say, I will make you the boss of this Company?”

“What if I say, I don’t care to be the boss of a Company that starts the process of getting sold without even letting its employees about it?”

“What if I say, that it is a routine practice across the globe?”

“What if I say, I give two hoots to routine practices?”

“What if I say, that’s one of the reasons I love you Aditi?”

(“WHAT! WHAT DID HE JUST SAY? BLOODY CREEP!”) (With simmering anger) “And what if I say, Mr. Nishant, that even at 3 AM in the morning, you sound just as freshly sick as you would during the day?”

(laughs) “Well Aditi …”

“Please call me Ms. Aditi, Mr. Nishant.”

“When did THAT come in code of conduct of the callers. We can call you by your first names, if we wish, Aditi.”

“Who the &$#& is this?”

“Nishant, Nishant Vaidya”

“Do I know you, Nishant?”

“Hey, hey. Call me Mr. Nishant, Aditi”, Nishant takes a fun potshot at Aditi.

(Not that Aditi cared much for it, as she repeats her query in the same vein) “Do I know you, Nishant?”

“You’d once said that one day you will marry me.”

“What! What nonsense. I don’t even know you. This is such a disgusting trick.”

(smiles) “This is no trick Aditi. I know you.”

“How? From where?”

“We were together in school.”

“What! When? Which school? Which class?”

“When you were in Class 1 and 2 and …”

“Class 1 and 2! I don’t even remember anything of class 1 and 2. And I don’t think there was anyone called Nishant Vaidya in my entire school life.”

“Yes, there wasn’t.”

“Matlab?”

“I wasn’t called Nishant in class 1 and 2. And neither was I a Vaidya then.”

“What is this, some kind of a Kyuki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thhi kinda story or what?”

(laughs) “It’s even worse.” (laughs again)

(Not sure why but Aditi too couldn’t help but smile. And also got amused by Nishant’s cool as cucumber temperament)

“I have no idea what you are talking about. And I don’t even know why I’m talking with you. I thought you would be a serious person, considering you are supposed to buy this Company. But after talking with you, I guess it’s not going to happen. My Company is safe.”

(laughs) “So be it, Aditi. But can I complete my K-story?”

(smiles) “Ya, go ahead. Amuse me.” (smiles more)

(laughs) “When you were …”

“OK, wait a minute. Which school are we talking of here?”

“Our school, which else?”

“Well, I know where I studied my class 1 and 2. Which school do you think we were together in?”

“Ms. Sherelock Holmes, we were together in ASIA English school.”

(“Oh my God! He knows it all!”) “Wow! You’ve really done your homework.”

“Yes, I have. These days I call it groundwork.”

“Hmmm!” Aditi starts getting sucked into the conversation and the enigma in the form of Nishant.

“Anyway, when you were class 2,  I was in Class 8 … ”

(”Oh, yeh toh UNCLEJI hain”)

“…and I was called Nisarg Mehta.”

“Matlab? You’re not Nishant Vaidya?” (Aditi was now getting totally confused. Not that she needed much to confuse her.

“Oh God, wait. Don’t talk again till I complete myself.”

(Aditi gets taken aback a little at the confident authority shown by Nishant. It tickles her inner self.)

(Nishan continues) “I was Nisarg Mehta till class 9. But then my parents got separated and I started living with my mummy, a Vaidya. Because of the bitterness associated with the whole thing, she changed my name from Nisarg to Nishant. And I became Nishant Vaidya.”

“I don’t believe this!”

“What? I mean you don’t believe that such things can happen or you don’t believe me only?”

“Well, I don’t know …”

(Laughs) “You won’t believe this, but you used to say ‘I don’t know’ even when you were a small kid.”

“What rubbish. How can anyone remember things that happened 14 years ago, especially when those things happen at a very small age.”

“Well Aditi, 14 years ago, I was already 13 years old”

(”Uncleji”)

“I’m sure you would be thinking me to be uncle-like.”

(”WHAT! Is he a mind reader or what?”) “Of course not, 27 is very young.”

“Wow! Though I don’t think you are speaking the truth, it was great to hear that.”

(Smiles) “You do have guts to accuse someone of lying, right on that person’s face.”

“I couldn’t have reached here without guts, you see. Wait, I’ll send you my picture to you.”

(Startled) “What!”

“Yes, I’m sending it.”

“Where!”

“Sent it. You’ll get it in a moment. Check your phone.”

“You know my number.”

(Smiles naughtily) “Yes, Aditi.”

“How?”

“Someone very close to you gave it to me.”

Just then, Aditi’s boss happens to cross Aditi’s desk. Aditi, still shocked at the news of her number being known to Nishant, looks at her boss with a puzzled look. The boss stops and asks in gesture about the person she was talking to.
Aditi silently lips Nishant’s name.

The boss raises her eyebrows in surprise. Suddenly, Aditi’s phone receives an MMS.

“I just got the deliver report. I think you’ve got it. Have a look.”

Aditi does not speak anything and starts opening the message on her phone. The boss waits for a moment and finding Aditi busy with the two phones, leaves the place.

(”Wow! Style bhai hai”)

“Got it?”

“I will see it in the morning. I’m at work at the moment.”

(Laughs) “Ok. No probs.”

There is a long pause. Aditi keeps on looking at Nishant’s picture and Nishant dreams a bit more about the future.

“Hello?”

(Naughtily) “Yes Aditi?”

“Is there anything more?”

“I guess this is enough for the moment. Remember, I’ve made you an offer of you becoming the boss of the Company that you are working in.”

“Oh come on. I don’t want to become any boss-woss.”

“Anyway. And the second proposal from me would be told to you tomorrow morning by uncle-aunty. Your parents i.e.”

“WHAT! You know my parents too?”

“Very, very well.”

“How! Oh my God, what is this, how?”

“Well, apart from many other reasons, I was born at your mum’s hands.”

“What!”

“And that one of the clients of my USA office is your dad’s Company.”

“What!”

(Laughs) “That is a lot of ‘whats’, Aditi.”

“What? I mean …”

Nishant bursts out laughing.

“I don’t believe this. It all feels like some CIA plot.

“Well, it was a plot alright. Because I wanted to be with you since the day you had said you would marry me, as a 6 year-old.”

“Where did that happen?”

“During the play that we had staged in the colony.”

“Oh my God yes! I remember that.”

“Finally.”

“But it was only a play. I was just saying the lines.”

“But I felt them even then, as a 12 year-old.”

“What?”

(Laughs) “Ask your parents about the rest. Thanks for the help, Ms. Aditi.”

As the smiling Nishant puts the phone down, he knows that his dreams were now about to come true. “Wow!”

###

Concluded.

Categories
Writing

Ek Na Ek Din Toh Sab Ka Result Aata Hai

Aur ek din, mera bhi aa hi gaya. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to share it with you because my dad does not want the world to know his only child’s ‘actual’ 12th board results. And the editor of League has flatly refused to play the Goga Kapoor of ‘Kabhi Haan Kabhi Na’ by printing my fake marks in this column. (Damn! Another opportunity to become SRK goes up in smoke.)

Last month I was asking for you to pray for my results. Funnily, this month too I’m going to ask you to do the same – pray for my results. Results of the many admission forms that I’ve filled up. And of the many entrance exams that I’ve given, giving and about to give.

Yeh jeevan ek pariksha hai. “And with this lifestyle, you are going to fail all of them” – my dad would say, when he is in a good mood. When he is in his ‘special’ mood, he generally drills me with his eyes and non-cooperation in conversations.

But hey, that’s going beside the point. The point here is – whether you like it or not, every activity of yours bears results for you! But its only the 12th board results that we GLOVADIs make hue and cry about. Curfew on films, friends, fun, freedom and everything even remotely related to the letter ‘f’. Ouch! Hey dad, I didn’t mean…what I hear from ALL my ‘best friends’ a dozen times a day! Ouch, again!

Anyway, if Bill Gates was killed on the basis of his 12th board results, you would not have been reading this magazine, writing e-mails or generally expressing yourself through computers. Ditto for Dhirubhai Ambani. And I’m not even talking of movie and ROCK stars!

Come on parents, give us a break. It’s just a 12th board result. Why is it being turned into a front page circus?

Yes, bad marks in 12th push back your chance to gain DIRECT entry into any medical or engineering college by an year or two. But there are all India open entrances for such colleges, donation colleges for the well-off and scholarships for the brilliant. And unlike previous years there are more engineering seats in Ahmedabad / Gandhinagar than there are students. Arts and Commerce streams too have similar options.

I’ll be doing B. Sc. Now. And I’m NOT going to get into a good college because of my marks. But don’t every college of Gujarat University read the same books of science? And that of arts and commerce? And do the ‘top’ science / arts / commerce colleges provide placements? I’m told even the government engineering and medical colleges (the most reputed ones of the city) offer that. So what’s the deal here, except the non-required noise?

My dad would not say that to me, but I know that he’s proud of the fact that I’m writing for a classy magazine at 17! It doesn’t pay me much (sorry Editor), but at 17, I feel I have many years ahead to earn. For now, I’m happy with my learning and the pass class.

Categories
Writing

Does God Live Absolutely Everywhere?

Orthodox side of every religion, in one way or the other, would teach us that God is present in every single particular of this world – either as a resident or the landlord of that particle. Furthermore, anything that takes place or is made to happen is either God on an auto-pilot mode or acting through a ‘worldly driver’ (human being). And that apart from the teaching of God living in our heart or in our inner soul.

Is that the ONLY or absolute truth? Does God really live everywhere?

If you read the first paragraph again, you would end up feeling like an X-Box 360 or Playstation gaming console – designed by someone, directed by someone, for some purpose. Is that what we humans are; mere puppets of God?

That can’t be true for many reasons. But the biggest one of them all is that I’m sure God would want to give a little more respect to his best creation – the human brain. Of course, some atheists would suggest that it is the other way around, God is in fact the human brain’s best creation. But we shall not get into the subject of the ‘presence’ of God itself. We shall stick to the present subject of the omnipresence (if at all) of God.

According to all religions, God – even at the darkest hour, from all perspectives – stands for everything good. If there is despair, God stands for hope. If there is craving, God stands for contentment. If there is anger, God stands for peace. So on and so forth.

But hey, read all of that again. If God stands for hope, then what is that despair about? What is that despair’s origin and ‘composition’? If God lies ‘within despair’ too – as per the teachings – then “why that despair so despairing for us”? Why isn’t that despair actually hope for us right from the beginning – meaning, in effect, the death of despair (at the hands of God?) right at its birth itself?

Yes, if God stands for hope and God is everywhere, how can despair even exist on this planet?

Alternatively, if God stands for despair too, then how different is HE from us humans, with all our strengths and failings? One often take solace in the presence of more of the same kind, but he doesn’t surrender himself to them, does he?

The hope vs despair example can be extrapoleted to almost all the sitautions of this world. Some babies are born healthy, some are not. Some women give easy births, some even lose their lives. Some people get away with murders, while some die of a stray sniper bullet. Some people lose their lives to evil people, while some die at the hands of nature’s fury. Some lead a healthy, happy but short life, while some suffer bad health and unhappy mind for long years.
If God is everywhere, why is there such blatant ‘discrepancy of destinies’?

I believe that God has sent us here to this planet and has now moved back. HE is watching every move of every individual and giving ‘grades’ in accordance with a person’s conduct under various circumstances. But HE is not ‘in the ring’. He is like a cricket coach, done with his job and now watching – from a distance – the performances of his wards.

Once back in the pavilion, the players would either get a sack or get the cap for another match. The coach is just at one place. At a place from where he can see all the players. And if players concentrate a little hard, they too can see the coach in the team balcony. Now, whether to play straight or tamper with the ball is in the hands of the players.

So take your call friends. You can do whatever you wish to. God would not stop you from doing it. HE can’t; because he is sitting at a distance. But HE can see us all at all times. Because he is the only one amongst us allowed to use the binoculars and log in our every move in his computer.

God is not everywhere.

Categories
Writing

Press Release by Castists United (Kitli Times)

Dear fellow castist Indians:

It gives us, the talking heads of Castists United (henceforth referred to as Cas Utd.), great pleasure in sharing the details of the first Castists United Rashtriya Sammelan, Etawah (CURSE).

It has been noted that not enough number of castes in India have been allowed to get lower in the caste hierarchy. It is an even worse form of exploitation than not being allowed to move up in the caste ladder. After all, what does one get in becoming a higher caste than the present one? If today, in any big Indian city, you say you belong to higher caste you would either be called a castist or would be told “those days are now gone”.

While we too agree that those days are now gone, it is extremely painful for us to learn that a person with static mentality, who is proud of his present caste, is equated with our group – a group of downwardly mobile individuals . We have repeatedly lodged complaints with concerned authorities about some people trying to malign our noble organisation by casually using the term ‘castist’.

The term cannot be allowed to be used casually. The whole point of struggle today is to eventually become a lower caste today and much lower tomorrow.

For the purpose CURSE has come up with a healthy, peaceful, democratic and noble dialogue – about an individual’s right to continuously downgrade his caste for the purpose of serving the mankind. Or for national integration. It can even be about greenhouse effect. Or for just about anything. As they say in Hindi, “yeh toh sochne waale ki shradhha par hai”.

But how can this happen when some people are already proud of their castes while others don’t want others to learn the art of living by means of belonging to a politically lower caste. The present system is full of corrupt people, who want people to either be happy of their caste or rise about caste. They do not want to make any more divisions to their pie. They are trying to stop people with aspirations for lower caste pie by calling ‘pie’ a western concept, “gorey logon ki saazish”.

We say it is complete nonsense. And only an excuse to not give us our rightful share.

We might be of any caste, but we shall never give away our right of being of a lower caste. In a democracy, it’s the lowest common denominater that should rule. And the lowest common denominator says that everyone should be brought down to the lowest common denominator level. When there’s no inequality, there’s no injustice. Or something like that. Maybe.

But the point arises as to how should we go about achieving our target of making India a nation of consistently falling caste index.

One rightful method would be to burn public transport buses to attract attention and instill fear in the minds of the authorities. But the quality of government buses raises serious doubts about the safety of our boredom fighters during the operation. And targetting private properties would take away public support.

That has left us with no other option but to organise CURSE. We have not been able to chart any plan of action or roadmap. But we have managed to generate some demands. Kindy find them attached after this letter.

Jai low, lower, lowest castist.
~ Cas. Utd.