Punarjani

It was a bright Sunday.

The clouds were unusually blue.

The birds were chirpier than ever.

And Lakshmi, my maid stood smiling at my bedroom door. That was a usual sight on Sundays.

Oh, dear lord! Why do I have to wake up to my maid! Such a bad omen! Wonder what's in stock for today!

"What's happening Lakshmi? Is your husband back yet?", I asked knowing it would irritate her. One of those sadistic pleasures.

"No Amma", she smiled again.

"Then, what's with the smile?"

"It's just a nice day Amma. It feels good."

That's true. It was a Sunday. Sundays are supposed to be nice.

No client calls.

No meetings.

No deadlines to meet.

But would she know! She just had to come in and sweep and mop and wash.

She had no targets to meet.

No long appraisal forms to fill.

No power-up meetings.

She gets paid, whatsoever.

Unaware of my thoughts, Lakshmi continued to sweep the floor.

I was having breakfast, when she was leaving. Mom told me that it was her birthday. She turned 23. I tipped her with a 100 rupee note. Mom gave her a saree - something I had bought for myself, but never worn. One of those 'spur of the moment' purchases, which I regretted later on.

Her eyes beamed. She seemed happier than she was a while ago.

I wondered what would happen when a happy person became happier. I mean, what was the highest you can reach in happiness? Was there any measure to it? Was there an end to happiness?

Mom tipped her with another 50 and sent her off.

"Mom! Do you have to be so generous?"

"What about the Rs. 2,000 you spent on your friend's birthday party last week?"

"Well... errr.... Lakshmi is just a servant! And, my friends are different..."

"No, It's not! It's the same! She deserves it more than your friends."

"Mom, you better keep away from her. She is spoiling you."

"Geethu, I think you should talk to her sometime."

"About what? Advertising and strategic planning? Please! Gimme a break!"

"No my dear! About life..."

"Mom! She is 23. Stranded with 2 kids – a 2-year-old with a hole in her heart and a 4-year-old. Her drunkard husband ran away with whatever gold she had, about a year ago. And she totally deserved it! Who asked her to elope with her dad's driver, that too at 18? She made her choices. Now she must face the consequences. She is a loser. Whereas I – am an MBA graduate, working with a reputed firm, earning a 6-digit salary, can speak 4 languages, have no kids to take care of, and yeah, I write blogs too! What do I have to learn from HER?"

(Wait a sec! Just this morning I was cursing my employer and complaining about my targets... But, who cares!)

"You have to learn time management from her. You have to learn negotiation from her. You have to learn multi-tasking from her. Most of all, you have to learn to smile, from her!"

"Oh! Mom! Please!"

"Geethu, have you realized that you never smile? You don’t enjoy your food? You don’t talk to me because you are busy on your phone always. You don’t ask me if I have eaten yet. You expect my headache to vanish with a Crocin but will bring the house down when you have one!"

"Now, now mom! That is not true. I care for you. I love you. I am your daughter!"

"I know. But you have changed. You just exist. You have stopped living."

"Hahaha! Now, that’s a new one! I wonder what the difference is. Anyways, enough of Gyan. I need to go for that school mates’ lunch meet at the Taj today. Have spent a fortune for the reservations. I will be late. Don’t wait up."

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The car broke down. That too, in front of the government hospital.

I hate hospitals. Thankfully, there was a mechanic shop nearby. I was waiting for it to get fixed, when I saw Lakshmi pass by. Her 2-year-old on her hips and the 4-year-old was dragging behind. The baby was crying.

Wonder what's up?

Do I ask?

No... I don’t want to be late for my lunch meet.

Humanity knocked hard on the doors of my conscience.

Fine! I will ask her.

Lakshmi seemed happy to see me.

"Amma, the baby has been crying nonstop. Had to bring her in. Can you please come with me to the doctor? I don’t understand half of what she says."

Oh, no no no! The hole in the heart can wait. My lunch meet cannot!

Reluctantly, I accompanied her.

Did I say I hate hospitals? I really do!

The corridor was crowded. Lakshmi seemed to know the place in and out. She led the way. As we waited, patients – across varying age groups, skin tones, wounds kept walking in and out. The only visible link amongst them all – poverty.

The wards were overflowing with patients and houseflies. The sight was pathetic. Women crying as they fed their near ones. Men who seemed lost looking at bills. When our turn came, we walked into a small room. The Doctor looked familiar.

"Manjula!"

She looked the same. Except for a little grey hair.

She looked perplexed.

"Geethu?"

Not bad! She recognized me, despite my 'rebonded’ hair, ‘green’ contact lenses and 'mild' make-up.

"How come you here?"

"Oh! I have come with my maid, Lakshmi. Her kid is sick."

I didn’t have to ask her the same. I always knew Manju would end up like this. At some NGO or orphanage helping people.

"I know Lakshmi quite well. So, you are who she works for!  She keeps telling me how you have been helping her financially."

(Is it so? That is not me then. I need to keep a check on this! Mom! Let me get home.)

I managed to force a smile.

The kid was still crying.

She was given some injection and medicines.

"That should ease the pain for now..."

"What's wrong with the kid?" I asked for courtesy sake.

"Well, she seems to be recovering well. A minor operation will fix it forever. Lakshmi has been delaying it for want of money."

The baby looked drowsy with the medicines. The elder one started crying now. Lakshmi looked at me for help. I offered to hold the younger one. A sleeping devil is always better than one that's awake.

The kid was pretty weightless. She slept on my shoulder, clinging on to my hair. I felt her heartbeat.

Her heart with a hole.

"How much will it cost?"

"Around fifty thousand rupees for the surgery. A couple of thousands more for the medicines and recuperation."

My phone rang, "Where are you? We are all here. Waiting for you..."

"I will be late. You guys can start with the lunch"

"Don’t tell us you work on Sundays as well..."

"Listen, I will have to call you back..."

Beeeep.

"How soon can we do this operation?"

"I have spoken to my friend who works with a private hospital. I have already made all arrangements there. We can have it done, as soon as the money is ready. Lakshmi has been saving money and handing it over to me for safekeeping. But that’s not enough."

I remembered vaguely how mom mentioned she was scared to sleep alone at her house, with men scavenging around for whatever they could loot from her.

"Please arrange for the operation soon. I will bear the expenses".

I thought I felt a heartbeat skip.

Was it the baby's heart?

Manjula looked shocked.

Lakshmi's eyes widened.

I was in a deeper shock. What did I just say?

"This baby deserves to live. Please leave the expenses to me".

I said it again.

"Right. I will have it fixed soon".

I was holding the baby as we walked back. The car was repaired. My phone kept ringing. I would have thrown it away, had I not spent a good thirty thousand on it.

I drove back with Lakshmi and her kids, and dropped her home. She cried as I handed over the child. I asked her name for the first time.

"Punarjani".

It meant ‘rebirth’.

I smiled.

"Amma, you are a goddess."

"No, I am not. You are. You live happily. Despite your sorrows. You look forward to a brighter tomorrow. Your targets in life seem unachievable, yet you never stop trying. You never give up on your kids. And most importantly, you never stop smiling. Thanks Lakshmi!"

Mom was surprised to see me home for lunch.

"What about your friends?"

"They can wait."

She was moved when I praised her sambhar and cauliflower fries.

I asked her what she did all day and offered to take her out for a drive in the beach, something she had been longing for months now.

She noticed the difference.

It was Lakshmi's birthday.

But it was I who was reborn.

Memories

If only I could fly,
I'd be with u now, by your side!
Cos I know I was happiest - when
I saw you flash that smile.

I’d whisper words -
I have treasured to share.
Words that were earlier heard -
Only in my wild dreams, when I dared!

What struck me in a day,
Is taking time to go away...
Those brown eyes, that lovely smile -
I still search for in every other guy!

To everyone’s dismay,
I am gleefully gay,
In my fantasy today
And I wish to be always.

For, as days go by,
When you are no longer mine,
Your memories will remind me -
Our love was divine.

He returned to silence...

He awoke sweating, startled from a nightmare. His mouth felt salty from the tears that had flowed in.

"What happened? You look worried!", asked wife dearest.

"Dad, why do you keep worrying. Of all days, today! It’s my wedding... please! Your ministry and its affairs can wait", said Hari.

That worsened the dark circles under his eyes.

**********************************************************************************************

Ooty, was cold. Not like Chennai.

"She's only 16. Looks like she was kept waiting for you."

Her pretty eyes were welled with tears.

Kumar, his confidant in every sphere of life, beamed proudly at his new ‘catch’ for his boss.

Occasionally, to escape his wife, he would go on a long 'business trip' which usually started and ended at his estate bungalow, in Ooty.

Rum.

The fireplace.

And something to lay one's mind off business and politics.

That something waited in his bedroom.

A terrified 16-year-old.

He downed his last glass of rum and walked in.

**********************************************************************************************

"Dad, this is Ramya, I told you about. My junior from B-school. Why don’t you have a look at her credentials. She's quite efficient. I'm sure we can fit her in somewhere."

Yes, he could easily employ her. He had a fairly large office. His business empire had grown over the years. The Anand Group was among the largest business conglomerates in the country.

Whatever he touched turned gold.

It didn’t take him long to plunge into politics.

It was an easy field for people like him.

**********************************************************************************************

The old man had wrinkles all over. He smiled and stood like an obedient servant.

"He takes care of the girl, her only distant relative. He says she is pregnant."

He threw a bundle of notes into the drunkard's greedy palms.

"Get her married. I don’t want to see you or her ever again. Else, both of you will be gone. I don’t need to tell you what Kumar is capable of, should I?”

The old man smiled again, obediently nodding his head.

**********************************************************************************************

"Dad, that Ramya girl is really good. She seems to have got into the good books of mom too! I mean, not bad knowing mom and her eccentricities!", Hari seemed exceptionally happy.

It took him some time to figure out why.

**********************************************************************************************

"Happy Birthday! You turn four today!"

They were cutting the cake through the icing which read Hari Anand, when the phone rang.

"Sir, Sir!", Kumar gasped.

"Kumar, haven't I told you to never call me at home?"

"Aama Sir, but this is urgent. That girl died ..."

"Which girl? What are you talking about? Listen, I don’t have time for this nonsense"

"Sir, please listen. That girl Lalitha. She delivered last night. And she died on the spot. The old man didn’t take her to the hospital…"

'Papa, come cut the cake with me!'

"Yes Hari, Papa is coming.
Shut up! I was talking to my son. I can’t talk to you now!"

"Sir, but the baby... the old man disappeared when she died. The baby was left at our doorstep this morning..."

"What baby? Throw it somewhere. Where is the old man? Bastard. I will kill him."

"Sir, but what will I do?"

'Anand, come fast. We are all waiting! Can't you keep the phone down for a minute!'

"Yes Suji. Coming.
Kumar, listen I don’t know what you do! You are responsible for this mess. Kill it. And don’t call me ever again!"

"But sir... "

Beep.

The cake was stale. It didn’t taste as sweet as it looked.

**********************************************************************************************

"Dad, mom, I need to talk. I think.... no. I know that I love Ramya. She is the girl in my life."

Now, that was a tough one. Accepting into his family a girl with modest or rather no roots.

Especially when business magnets awaited with proposals promising dowries of crores and joint venture deals that valued more.

But the PR almost made up for all the losses.

"The minister's way of guiding the society."

"Philanthropy starts at home."

"Business men are not always business minded."

The couple became a smash hit. The minister’s son and the orphaned girl.

Couldn’t help but bless them. After all, the empire he had built, was for his son.

**********************************************************************************************

Kumar never called. Until yesterday.

"Sir, Kumar here. Your old servant..."

"Oh! what a pleasure Kumar. I was hoping you heard about the wedding. It's only a day away. I want you to..."

"Listen to me first...!"

Arrogance. With years, he has grown gutsy enough to interrupt me!

"Sir, this is important. That girl Ramya. Who do you think she is? An angel who will make up for all the evil you did? She will be the cause for all your distress..."

"What do you mean?"

"She is your blood. Sir, she is your child!"

"KUMAR!"

"Don’t scream at me. It’s the truth!"

"I thought you killed the baby. Was it a girl?"

"I couldn't kill her. For all the sin I did, this was the only way I..."

"No. You killed the baby. You told me you killed the baby..."

"No. I put her in school. I sponsored her education with your money. I knew you would never let her live if you knew. So, I kept it a secret. But now..."

"This can’t happen...."

"Sir! You need to stop the wedding..."

He couldn’t hear anything, anymore.

**********************************************************************************************

"Where's Dad?"

"Anand... Anand... where are you?"

He tried to hide inside the palatial house.

"Minister calls off his son's wedding to sibling - Exclusive coverage."

"The blood thirsty Minister's appalling past"

"The Anand Group of industries - A black-mark for India"

He awoke sweating, startled from a nightmare. His mouth felt salty from the tears that had flowed in.

"What happened? You look worried!", asked wife dearest.

"Dad, why do you keep worrying. Of all days, today! It’s my wedding... please! Your ministry and its affairs can wait", said Hari.

**********************************************************************************************

Hari looked handsome as ever!

Ramya looked like her, decked in her bridal red sari. Yes, she had her looks. The same eyes. How could he not see it all this time?

The priest announced that the auspicious time had come to tie the knot. Everyone was rushing to get the closest spot on the Mandap.

He was dragged along.

Tears welled up.

His inner voice screamed.

His conscience hit him. Hard.

Yet, he returned to silence...

But for you!

Destiny played games with a sadistic force,
And I stood still seeing my world go for a toss.
Before I knew, that cursen moment just froze.
Yet my silence, I managed to keep unbroke.

Time and minutes no longer flew.
The otherwise bright future, now looked blue.
Your memories however, still felt new.
And my smiles each day reduced to few.

Passion in my heart, I knew, I held.
Tears in your voice, I knew, I felt.
Though my innerself burnt and yelled.
I promised myself that this too will be dealt.

Now it feels like eras passed by,
But my wounds are taking their time to dry.
I wonder why this birth wouldn't just fly,
So I can find peace atleast when I die!

For every 'I love you' that came from you,
I always replied, I love you more!
Now, as I wait, though my chances are few,
Is when I realise I loved you from the core.

I still stand alone, where you left me,
Pinned down with memories that refuse to leave.
I pick from remains hoping to start clean.
I wish I could fly on, happy and free!

I cut a sorry figure, I know its true.
But I long like a flower for the morning dew.
The day you left is the day I knew
That I'd be left barren, but for you.

I Miss you!

When I kicked and pushed my way out,
Into this world, the day I was born....
When I sucked life in from mom,
Along with her tears, as daylight dawned...

When the first shaky steps I took,
Made me trip and fall...
When my red frocks became shorter,
With every inch I grew tall...

When I trembled with excitement for my first day at school…
When the first ‘B’ I wrote came with an extra curl…
For the first medal I brought home, proud…
During the silly fights fought and those taunts…

When I knew pain as I turned a woman…
As I blushed red when my first sari, I draped…
That sleepless night after my first kiss…
Which repeated, with tears after the first break up…

On the stage on that graduation day…
When I laughed with my first job offer, happy and gay…
As the train took me away from the comforts of home…
When I observed in awe, my money the ATM gave…

When I still search for that hand to curl my little finger,
When I look for that fractured shoulder to rest my little head,
When I long for that hoarse voice to comfort my ears.
When I long for that sweaty smell to reassure I’m dear.

I realise life is void, if not for a father…
I realise I still wait, as I always did…
I realise I still long, as I always did…
I realise I still miss you, as I always did...

I realise I still love you,
Daddy, I really do!

28.

84 Facebook messages.
85 Orkut scraps.
40 Sms on Mobile 1.
20 Sms on Mobile 2.
30 odd calls.
A few mails and E-cards.
A porcelain cup.
A bouquet of roses.
A dinner treat and yummy chocolate cake at the most expensive restaurant in town.
That summarised my day.
Today was my birthday.

28th Birthday.

I remember how once upon a time (which felt like eras ago), I used to look forward to birthdays.
To colourful frilly dresses.
To cakes and the sugary rose toppings, we fought world wars for.
To gifts - dolls and plastic kitchen sets.
To sweets.
To the rounds with your best mate, to distribute sweets through out school.
To surprise parties at home. (surprise to my parents too, cos often they were the last ones to be invited!)

I wonder where those days had vanished to!

Man!!! Nowadays, birthdays have become gentle reminders... of 30. Yeah! I'm growing old.

28 is... 30 minus 2.
Dint get that??
30 - 2 = 28.

And 30 is scary.

The questions I face daily are scarier! Dont trust me? Try answering these....

Are you married?
Nope.

Do you have a boyfriend?
Well, it's kinda complicated u know...

Do you have kids?
Errr.... (Can I have a boyfriend first?)

Do you have a job?
Eureka! I mean "Yeah!"

Are you among the Top / middle management?
Well, does Sr. AE count???

How much is your savings?
Zilch.

How much do you earn?
Close to zilch.

Do you have a house?
Nope.

A car?
Errr...

A bicycle?
Well... (Man! This is insulting!)

What do you do after work?
I sleep... (If I get to finish that is!)

When you are out shopping, what do you look for?
The Brand / The Fit / The Price Tag.
Pass. Next question please.

How would you rate yourself on a scale of 1 to 10?
Losing (0-3) / Loser (4-6) / Lost (7-10)
Errr.... More options please?

I mean. You know what I mean...

Well, here's to all friends who wished me!

Thank you!

This Birthday could have been worse, had it not been for your wishes!!!

Love you all!!!

Friends - Parotta

Shobana.

My life has been blessed with nutcases (read 'friends'). And Shobana definitely ranks among the top 10 nut cases I have ever known.

Beautiful girl. Loads of attitude.
(I think that comes as a package usually)

Shobs, as I call her, was my roomie (room mate) during my graduation days at Coimbatore. I have some fond memories and moments from my days with her, which I cherish.

One of her classic dialogues happened when we went to buy Parotta for dinner one night. Parotta is a common layered flat bread of Southern India (Courtesy - Wikipedia). I had the least idea that that was her first 'expedition' to a hotel to buy a parcel.

We stood there at the open air restaurant watching the 'Parotta master' knead the dough, make small balls and then flatten it, make it strips, and then into a circular layer, flatten them again before they went onto the pan to be fried golden brown. Once he had about four to five of them ready, he placed them one above the other and started crushing them from the sides.

That's when the historic comment came, from Shobs.

"Nalla iruntha porotta'ye ethukku antha aalu pottu kassakuraaru??"

(In Tamil that meant, 'Why is he disfiguring those nicely shaped Parottas?')

Little did Shobs know that they did that to separate the layers of the Parotta which apparently made it softer.

The Parotta master seemed offended. But he went on with the task of crushing the Parottas.

This made her all the more angry.

"Geetha, I wont eat those crushed Parottas. Look at his dirty hands. Moreover, I want mine perfect and round. Tell him that."

I blinked, not knowing what to say.

This time the master looked really angry. His expression told me I better leave with the 'foreigner'.

Shobs on the other hand was explaining to me on hygiene factors and how germs spread through unwashed hands.

I knew another night without food awaited us. Had no option than to drag Shobs from the place and find relief with a packet of bread and milk that night!

Even now each time I eat Parotta, I'm reminded of the Parotta master, his angry gaze and of course my darling friend - Shobs! :)