Oppurtunity

The ruling party was supposed to have their rally today. The leader of the opposition, in a fit of dare-devilry decided to show off his power and asked his party workers to arrange their rally on the same day. As a result the streets were choc-a-block. The small town was filled up with slogans and blaring mikes. Jeeps from both the parties were making rounds of the town since past week. Declaring the promises.

"We will make roads. We will bring water to your home, we will ensure 24 hour electricity. We will open industry nearby to the town. We will give job opportunities to the youth. We will open a hospital in the town. We will open a college. " The usual bullshit.
Both the parties were trying their level best. This year's election was going to be historical.
-----------------------------------------------

Ravi was new at all this. He completed his graduation last year. He couldn't get a campus placement. Rather no company came for placement in his college, citing recession. He tried off campus, but the "initiation fees" charged by various consultancy firms and the companies were just too much. He applied for job interviews from various companies but didn't get a call from any of them. Life was dull for him.
His daily routine consist of getting up in the morning. See the sad and depressed faces of his parents, especially his father. Take bath and go out on his cycle. Some days his sister would bring him breakfast, but he usually declined. Most of his day will be spent at the local tea stall discussing stuffs like politics, cricket, the new movie or the good looking girl in the neighbourhood. This year everyone believed that a certain wave is flowing in country which will bring the chief opposition party to power after 10 years and they will change the system.
Ravi and his friends were intrigued by it. So much , that they decided to join the opposition party as workers. They toiled hard night and day to do everything in their power to win the election for their candidate. When they heard that the ruling party was going to organise a rally, they encouraged, rather prodded their leader to organise a rally on the same day. That way people will come to know who is closer to public.
For the success of the rally Ravi and friends put in all their energy. Ravi used to come late at night. Initially his mother used to stay up for him to serve him dinner. But often Ravi would decline and will just go to sleep after bath. He used to leave early morning. Ravi's father once tried to talk to him regarding focussing on getting a job but Ravi was dreaming. Dreaming of a win for his candidate and the spoils of victory. Their leader assured that once he comes in power ,everyone's contribution will be remembered and rewarded. Given the "wave" , victory was certain.

----------------------------------------

Then came the day of the twin rally. the leaders were supposed to enter the town in an open jeep acknowledging the love and support of the crowd. He will go to the statue of Bharat Maata installed at the center of the town and will put a garland around the statue. Then he will go to the field where the speech will be given. 2 separate venues were arranged for the ruling and the opposition parties.
Heavy policing was done, but still things went out of hand.
it started when the candidate of the ruling party got late in arriving at the town. His supporters had already gathered near the Bharat Maata statue waiting for their leader. But since he got late and the opposition candidate had arrived, the whole procession started moving towards the Bharat Mata statue.
Once the procession of the opposition party with Ravi and his friends at the fore front reached the Bharat Maata statue, they met the workers of the ruling party. They said our leader willsalute bharat maata first. Ravi and his friends said, then he should have come on time. Our leader is here, so he will salute bharat maata first.
Argument escalated to heated argument which escalated to scuffle. Before police could intervene the scuffle transformed into fighting. Poilce tried to warn the mob but they couldn't control the situation. They fired some air-shots to warn. The mob in turn started attacking the police. That's when the police opened fire.

The leader of opposition party had turned his jeep long back and was having tea in his party office. The candidate from the ruling party never showed up.

That evening police brought the badly bruised body of Ravi in a jeep and laid it down on the floor of his house. They informed what had happened, offered their condolences and left. People from the neighbourhood gathered at Ravi's house. His mother and sister were crying uncontrollably. Ravi's father sat in a corner with a stern face.

Next morning the party jeeps again started making rounds of the town.

"We will make roads. We will bring water to your home, we will ensure 24 hour electricity. We will open industry nearby to the town. We will give job opportunities to the youth..."

The usual bullshit.

Rain on a monday night

Aniket was walking as briskly as possible. The clouds were gathering since late afternoon. Over the high rising malls of Saket he could see the clouds approaching like a herd of elephant. The strong wind was flinging sand with it and making it difficult to walk with eyes open, but still Aniket was enjoying the walk. It was pleasant. By the time he reached his sector it started drizzling. Aniket hurried towards his building. The rain was about to get heavy , he made it just in the nick of time. He got somewhat wet by the time he reached the building. Aniket saw a car stopping in front of the building. A couple got out of the car. Aniket waved at them and got into the lift for his flat. He liked such rainy weather. He planned to write something tonight or maybe he will call up his girlfriend and chat with her till late in night.

The couple was Mr and Mrs Kapoor. They were newly married and they recently moved in the building. They worked in the same office and took the same cab to and from office everyday. They took the stairs to their flat. they were fitness enthusiasts and used to take stairs to their flat located on 7th floor. There is something about watching a rainy evening from a 7th floor balcony. The city looks so quiet and fresh. Their domestic help came shortly afterwards. she made coffee for them and went towards kitchen for making dinner. Mr and Mrs Kapoor were sitting on the balcony sipping their coffee. It was a rainy evening 7 years back when they met each other in their college fest. Their domestic help informed them that she made the dinner and is leaving. Mr. and Mrs Kapoor decided to keep sitting in the balcony. Mrs. Kapoor laid her head on Mr. Kapoor's shoulder as they sat there reliving the memories of their first meeting amidst the continuous drizzle in front of their balcony.

The maid took the lift to reach the ground floor. Today was 24th i.e. the last week of the month. As usual their household was crunched for money. She was worried about making ends meet. As she came out of the lift she saw water had clogged the entrance to the building. She cursed the care taker of the society under her breath. She pulled up the corner of her saree above her head and very carefully started crossing the lane. She was worried about her own home in the slum. If the rain continues like this, water will enter her shanty. Few children of the nearby slum were playing in the water clogged streets. The maid hurried towards her home careful to avoid any potholes.

Chhotu was a slum kid. He was just 5 years old. Rainy days meant unlimited fun for him. He alongwith his friends used to play in the water clogged streets with the same enthusiasm as the rich kids when they play in a water park. He was splashing the water all over. The kids were singing songs which they have heard on the radio in their slum. Mostly bollywood songs. Life was simple for them. Whenever any vehicle crossed, they had to be careful. A person crossed them with a hand driven trolley with vegetables arranged on it, covered by a plastic. Chhotu avoided the trolley and went on to hug a street dog. The dog joined the fun and it continued.

Ramesh carefully avoided the kids dancing in the streets. He hated such rainy days. That too on monday. Monday was the day of haat-baazar in the Pushp Vihar sector 4 area. Rain on a haat baazar day means less footfall and less sales. But this was beyond his control. he pushed his trolley to his spot in the baazar. Few other trolleys had shown up. Mostly selling vegetables or plastic items. The garment vendors, chhole bhature wala, spices seller had not turned up today. Their product is prone to be damaged by rain. Ramesh sighed and set up the plastic cover to form a kind of tent over his trolley. A long evening of selling amidst heavy rain was in front of him.

Few hours later the rain had stopped. Mr. and Mrs Kapoor finished dinner. Mr. Kapoor was sitting in the balcony working on his laptop on some official stuff while Mrs. Kapoor was talking to her sister on phone standing by the railing. The maid had cleared the water from her home. Not much damage was done. Chhotu was asleep in his shanty, by his mother. The street dog laid in a bundle outside his shanty. Ramesh was still selling vegetables. The crowd picked up after the rain stopped. His sales were going to be as per his expectation. And Aniket.. Well Aniket was typing a story. !

A poem without a title

One day when i'll die. . 

my spirit'll go up in the sky. . ,

that day when i'll be at rest. . 

i'll leave for a place that is the best. .

One day when i'll not be around. . 

That day when you won't hear my sound. . 

That's the day you'll realise. . 

That my love just had no price. .

When i won't be able to wipe your tears. . 

When i won't be able to fight your fears. . 

That's the day you'll follow the trend. . 

That i was something more than a friend. . . 

But i'll be looking from far above. . 

And the rain drops will show my love. . . 

So don't wait till it is too late. . 

Let's not leave anything to fate. . 

You know i love you how. . 

Stop pretending and love me now. .

 I just couldn't think of a title for it. Suggestions are welcome :) 

Just one more time

Just one more time..

I long to see you..
To hold your arm..
As you look into my eye..
I want to feel your touch..
Just one more time..

Just one more time..
I long to call you..
To hear your voice..
As you speak your heart..
I want to talk to you..
Just one more time..

Just one more time..
I want to sit by your side..
To feel your perfume..
As you lean on my arm..
I want to hug you..
Just one more time..

Just one more time..
I wish you smiled at me..
while pushing your hair
behind your ears..
As I try to decide..
Who is more beautiful..
You or your smile..
Just one more time..

Just one more time..
I wish you were here..
To add more perfect scenarios
In my imagination..
To fuel my thoughts
Of a possible life together..
To listen to my ramblings
Which irritates everyone else..
To brighten up my day
With just your smile..
To call me by the name you gave me..
Just one more time.

GULAAL

Abhyuday Shankar Rathore was as serious a man as his name projected him to be. Always to the point, no-nonsense, no witty remarks or exchanges with anyone. He was a strict police officer serving as a jailer. Continuous dealing and handling of hard core criminals sucked out every bit of fun side which was left in him.  

He raised his kids in a strict disciplinarian environment. They followed a schedule for everything. Right from getting up in the morning, exercise, getting ready for school, coming back, lunch, study time, evening play time, study, dinner and bedtime: everything was pre-planned and strictly followed.

It was the day of holi. There was a small ceremony at the jail. The Inspector General of the district was supposed to come. Abhyuday was ready for his office. He was sitting at the table reading a newspaper waiting for his breakfast. Suddenly his 3 year daughter came with a handful of gulaal and tried putting it on him. Most of it fell on his uniform. Abyuday was furious. He held his daughter’s arm and shouted at her.

His wife came running from the kitchen and lifted her daughter in her arms as Abhyuday continued shouting at her and blaming his wife for being careless. His son peeked from behind the curtains, scared to say anything.   

Abhyuday was late to the ceremony. The first and last time in his career. 

//////////////////////////

One year later it was holi again. Abhyuday was sitting at the table. There was a packet ofgulaal lying in front of him. This year the mayor of the city was coming to attend the ceremony at the jail. But Abhyuday was not in a hurry.

He picked up the packet of gulaal and his walking stick. Then he took out a small portion of the gulaal and smeared it on the framed picture. First his wife, then his son. Then he took some more gulaal and put it over the face of his daughter. Most of the powder fell down to the floor, with just a small portion sticking to the picture.  

Abhyuday walked towards the kitchen taking support of his stick. He hated it but he had no choice. The accident last year took his family from him and his right leg too. He was on honorary continuation of his duty and was supposed to be retired on medical grounds 3 months later. He was still the tough man he used to be. At least that’s what others thought of him. Although the strips of sleeping pills and the empty bottles of liquor in his room told a different story altogether.

He crossed the mirror in the living room. He paused for a while and went back to the table and picked up the packet of gulaal. He stood in front of the mirror intently looking at himself. He took a handful of gulaal and smeared on his face.

The tears left streaks on his face giving him a creepy look. That was the first and last time in his adult life that Abhyuday cried.

His body was discovered on his bed three days later. Post-mortem said overdose of sleeping pills.