CROSSROADS

Part-1

The summers had come in Delhi. It was the time for the sun to shine in its full glory making the life of people of Delhi a living hell. The more the people cursed him and more it shone and he showed no mercy.

Ten’s and hundered’s of school children hurdled the ice cream stall and the Banta walas to beat the chill after a hectic school day and I could see some of my friends in the crowd too who were calling my name and waving towards me but I ignored and kept on walking ahead. As the sun increased his fury rivers of sweat came down gushing from forehead and arms dripping from my fingers into the mud ground beneath my legs and evaporating as soon as the drop felt the touch of the ground. More drops fell and the result was still the same. I could see the ground smiling on his victory over me.

I stood there in the ground watching the mothers carry their child’s school bag, bringing a chilled water bottle for their kids and also giving them a shade under the umbrella to protect them from the rays which pierced the atmosphere of Delhi. I had something different for myself. My shirt was a bit torn; shoes covered in mud, the broken zip of the bag from where the books and some torn pages peeped out, shirt coming out from my trousers and it didn’t affect me. I started to walk towards my home.

Mother was sitting in the sofa with the ac on. It was her way of beating the heat. She was waiting for her friend who is our neighbour to come for their daily dose of gossip sessions. My mother is a very outgoing woman her daily dose of gossips with Sheila aunty and her weekly doses of kitty party made her at ease. Drinking, smoking made her life easier.  Sheila aunty was more outgoing than my mom. It seemed to that some where there is a face hidden in her makeup and the more I tried to solve her make up puzzle the more I failed.

Sundays were the worst time for me. She would barge in the home and start kissing me on my face before their gossip sessions and my mother found it adorable. I used to dash into the bathroom and scrub my face and I took me almost half an hour to get rid of her make up. The last time I got to know about her son’s achievement was that he went for swimming in the pool but what she dint told my mother was that he pooped in the pool and was never allowed to go in there. This was something I learnt about him from his Facebook profile. I was just rolling on floor laughing.

There was no respite from the heat I was walking from the past 20 minutes. My water bottle was almost empty and I had a long way to walk. I had more important things in my mind than to think about the empty bottle. The summer vacations were starting day and that was my cause of worry. That was a reason of a possible reason of conflict between me and my parents. They wanted me to join a cricket academy as Sheila aunty second son had joined the academy last year and he was the captain of our school cricket team but I had some other plans. I wanted to join NSD.

It was around 3pm when I entered home. Thank god Sheila aunty was not there but I am sure she had left a few minutes back as I could still smell her strong deo. Entering home was quite a relief for me thanks to the minimum temperature my mom had set and the air in the room was very cool.  

My dad was to come around 4pm. One hour more and my fate would be decided…..

CROSSROADS

Prelude

Conflicts are a part of a life which goes inside a person for a lifetime i.e. the conflicts between the mind and the heart to choose between the right and the wrong of a particular event on which his future depends and not only his future but also the future of those associated with him.

This is a story of a 13 year old boy Darsh torn between one such dilemma when it comes on his conflicts with his own mind and heart as well as his parents, the ever nosy neighbour Sheila aunty and her continuous chants about her son doing MBA   in abroad.

Who will win in his battles will it be he or his parents? Will his dream ever come true or it will break? Will this be a sweet or a sour journey? Or once again the nosy neighbour Sheila aunty will drop the bombs and blasts his dreams.

Caught in the tornado of emotions what will the young 13 years old boy life will be in his expedition? Will he make it or will it break

Most importantly what is the significance of the hanging rope….

  

डर

रात को जब भी वो सोने जाता,
चुप हो जाता सहम  जाता\,
अपनी माँ के पीछे चुप जाता,
एक तुक देखता रेहता  वोह ,
उस कमरे की और जिसकी बत्तिया नहीं जल रही थी,
खड़ा रहता वो बस ना हिलता और ना  डुलता,
शायद किसी के इंतज़ार में,
अपनी माँ पापा कि बातो को अब्सुना कर के,
वो बस खड़ा रहेता ,
मुझे डर लगता है माँ,
उस अँधेरे से और वह सोने से,
बोल वो धीरे से,
उस अँधेरे की गहराई  से,
उनमे दिखती परछाई से ,
मुझे डर लगता है माँ,
यह बोल वो चल दिया,
अपनी माँ का पीछे,
एक कोने में सोने,
उन के बिस्तर में सोने ,
एक और रात उस डर से जीत गया वो,

सिग्नल

उस  तड़पती  धूप  मे  निकला  में ,

अपनी  दो  पहिया  गाड़ी  में ,
अपने दफ्तर की ओर ,
रोज़ का वो आधे घंटे का सफ़र ,
मनो कितने घंटे में खिच गया हो ,
पसीने से लतपत में चलाता रहा ,
गाडी  के  हॉर्न को  बजाताहुआ  उसको  निकालता  रहा ,
और  आया  मेरे ऑफिस  से  पहले एक  सिग्नल ,
वहा एक लड़की नंगे पैरो में करतब कर रही थी ,
और उसकी  मा  पास के  एक  पेड़  की  छाओं  तले  बैठी  ,
दुग्दुगी  बजा  रही  थी ,
और  वो  नन्ही  कलि  ताल से ताल  मिला रहि  थी ,
उस 60 सेकंड  को  बिताने  के लिए  लोग  करतब  देख  रहे  थे ,
में  भी  उस  कलि को  देख  रहा था ,
वो  रुकी  और लोगो  की ओर चली ,
लोगो ने उसको अनदेखा किया,
पर वो आगे बढ़ी और मेरे पास आ कर रुकी ,
मैंने पूछा  खाना खाया  ,
और वो बोली नहीं ,
पास ही में एक ठेला खड़ा था ,
मैंने गाडी को किनारे लगाया ,
सौ रूपए का एक नोट निकल ,
उसको और उस के भाई बहनों को खिलाया,,
लोग मुझे देख अचंभित हो गए,
हसने लगे पर में भी चलता गया ठेले की ओर ,
फिर में बिह हसने लगा ,
पर उन के हसने और मेरे हसने का तर्क कुछ और था,
उन्होंने जिनको ठुकराया मैंने उनको अपना बनाया,
उन भूके लोगो को मैंने पेट भर क खाना खिलाया ,
उस सिग्नल से जब भी में गुज़रता हूँ ,
उनको देख मुस्कुराता हूँ ,
उस कलि को खिलता  देख खुशहोता  ,
और अपने दफ्तर की और निकल जाता हूँ .

I wish I could be like…………..

The last prompt of the wish list Wednesday and the final one is again made for me: D

Impression is what inspires us to live. Impressions of whom we love, whom we follow and the impressions of who we want to be like makes us thinks “I wish I could be like them”. Same is the case with me as well. I have covered 21 years of my life and so many people have made an everlasting impact on my life with their kindness, greatness, their love for me and I want to name them and all become like them.

1.       My best friend: - yes the first person I want to be like is my best friend and I have told that friend so many times that I want to be like you. I am proud of you; you are caring, sweet, cute, sensible, mature and “MY PERFECTIONIST” and you will always be. I love you for what you are.

2.       My dad: - I am a tennis player and he is a tennis coach. People say they love Nadal (I love him even my nick name is Nadal), Federer or any other tennis legend but the best tennis player that I have known is my dad and he will always be a legend to me. No matter how much good I play against him I won’t be able to beat him ever. A bit of Nadal in me would help me though

3.       Javed Akhter: - I recently met him at the Jaipur literature festival and we talked.  I love his poems and I said to him – “sir I want to be like you” to which he said- “be better than me”.  Hearing those words I was in the 7^th sky. I know it will take me more than 7 births to be like or to be better than you. I will try my level best because I want to be like you.

4.       Myself: - now I’m writing that I want to be like me as I don’t want to lose myself in the process of becoming like them

It is tough for me to become like the three of them but i surely want to become like my best friend even if i cant become like Javed Akhter or my dad. 

I wish I had one more chance to ......................................................

This is for wishlist Wednesday….. prompt by preeti shenoy

I waited for Wishlist Wednesday every week thinking of writing something on each of them but somehow I could not write. Those topics were out of my league. But thank you Preeti mam, I sincerely feel that you chose this prompt keeping me in mind (haha)

People commit so many mistakes in life unknowingly and sometimes knowingly and I am one of them. I have made many mistakes and I definitely need one chance to change them and they are:

1.       I need one more chance to live my childhood again: - yes i need one more chance to live my childhood again. I wanted to go back to that time when those things happened with me and I didnt turn out to be strong. This time I want to be strong from the start and for that I need my childhood.

2.       I need one more chance to be a good son: - yeah I need one more chance to be a good son. I want to prove that yes I’m can be good son to you both and not a toy so that you can play with. To give them a single reason to be proud of and not a reason to be ashamed off.

3.        I need one chance to be a good friend: - yes I am your good friend and I want to prove that. I have made many mistakes which I never wanted too. I want that one chance to prove it you.

4.       I need one chance to be loved, cared and not to be an option for anyone : - I want one chance where people are real with me and love me, care for me and stay with me for ever and not come to me at the time when they need me. There can be a situation where I need them so be with me for ever and help me in my struggle without me asking for anything.

5.       I need one chance to live: - yes I need one chance to live. Yesterday only I was thinking what I’m missing in life. I’m actually missing my whole life. The emptiness does not leaves.

I need one chance for so many things in life. I’m still living and carrying on with a hope to stable myself and finding so many things about myself and hoping that need for one last chance ends  somewhere down the line.

Thank you Preeti for this prompt. Yesterday I was thinking of speaking my heart out to someone I don’t know so that I won’t be judged and today you gave  me that chance

रात

कुछ तो बात है इस रात में,
गुप सन्नाटे में सोती हुई इन गालिओ में ,
कुछ तो बात है इस रात में,

कुछ तो बात है इस रात में,
गूंजती हुई सिटी वो चौकीदार की अँधेरे में ,
करती हुई शोर उसकी लाठी अँधेरे में,
कुछ तो बात है इस रात में,

कुछ तो बात है इस रात में,
पदों से गिरते हुए सूखे पत्तो की आवाज़ में,
कुछ तो बात है इस रात में,

हैरत करती हुई यह रात है,
हलचल है कुछ इन संकरी गालिओ 
हैरत करती हुई यह रात है 

कुछ तोह बात है इस रात में 


PS- my 1st blog of year the year and i hope it turns out to be a great year for all my writer friends :) :)