Death of Humanity

“Education can be dangerous. It is very difficult to make it not dangerous. In fact it is almost impossible" – Robert M Hutchins

I am sure when this quote was created it never meant what we witnessed on December 16 in Peshawar, yet it says it all.

As an Indian, ever since I understood political maps, geography and history of India there were stories, narratives, news and many facts and figures that made me not like my neighboring country. Like any other Indian, my patriotism always made me dislike Pakistan. I never believed in any of the peace treaties or the initiatives. According to me this relationship was beyond repairs! It always created a bitter taste in mind whenever it was mentioned. I even prayed that what we witnessed on November 26 in Mumbai, they should also witness something similar.

On December 16, 2014 it was not long when media started covering an Army School in Peshawar. Yes, it was Pakistan! Yes, it was a terrorist attack! But as I read the details I could not feel anything good about it. The school going children were targeted – of the soldiers who were guarding the country; putting themselves in line of fire to ensure their family’s safety as well. The teacher was burnt alive in front of the students – it was all so heart rendering that I took a moment to compose myself.

Then the messages started pouring in. Forwards, self written – Everyone was feeling the same grief I was struggling with. It was no longer the country we hated all our lives. I and everyone I knew connected with them at the humanitarian level.

As a mother I connected somewhere deep with each and every grieving mother – I could feel her pain or may be I can never, her pain is too deep for me to feel, just a glimpse of it made me shiver. I am scared to know how she is trying to cope up. She wakes up early, packs the tiffin, irons the uniform and helps her child to look crisp – hugs and sends to school with dreams of him or her becoming a better person. A place she thinks is safe and will shape her child in a way which she herself cannot.

But now she sits and blankly looks at the coffin somewhere hoping that it does not have what everyone says. She looks at the clock and then the door hoping for the silhouette of her child to appear and call out for her with a smile.

I pray for every mother, I pray for every father, I pray for every brother and sister - their loss is huge and I can never find words to express this loss. I pray to the almighty to give them strength to bear the pain.

These families will never be same. The smile has been robbed. I don’t want to know the reasons. I don’t want to know the actions that will be taken. I just want to know one thing – Does the world still think “Terrorism has a religion?”

Conversations

"Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen" – Winston Churchill.

God has bestowed special attribute to everyone. Among them one classic power is Vocal command. Or can we say language, as it is not the noise, but an intricate network between tongue, larynx, brain, heart, weaved together and the product that comes out is a conversationalist. Based on this, we classify the world majorly between speakers and listeners. A person realizes this god gift and nurture it further, till he perfects it. But there exists the other species that are not so fortunate, and are commonly known as listeners. We describe their association as one man’s pain is other man’s pleasure. Based on my (y)ears of listening experience, though every speaker is unique and a classic example, it gives me thousands of reasons why he/she should be the next statue in Madame Tussauds Museum. They somewhere sound like bombs. Since the bombs are categorized, so are they :

Category one  

“Sutli Bomb”  -  This is a special Made in India category, where the moment you bring the spark near the bomb there is no guarantee. It can explode there and then at times without giving u time to escape –

Here comes her victim, I mean me...

“Hello” I ignited the bomb!!

“Hello ji!  How r u?  omg!  The weather is acting so funny these days. My kids are down with fever, I was trying to cope up between their illness, my maid, school, don’t u think they are running so fast as far as their syllabus is concerned, when is the sports day, I hope my maid comes that day, Mrs. Sharmaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa………” 

Meanwhile I try my level best to cope up with the subjects, trying to respond, the topic shifts faster than the speed of light and my response level stays to” yes” “ofc...” “kintu...” “Par....” “ya” “sur....” “paran..” “True” “but” “na..............”  And I need water, air. My body revolts - Bhaago (Run) but I can’t, I am caught in her web of words. I visualize myself like tom cat, who is run over by a road roller again and again... sigh... bachao kehne ka koi fayda nahin hai !!(No rescue) This category needs no punctuation, no intake of air, water. The coordination between different body parts is so rapid that it leaves no space for other person. Needs no switch on button and till date I have not discovered how to switch them off. 

Category two  

"Trigger Bomb" – The bomb that explodes with a special trigger. A listener has to be smart enough to not only understand but also remember those triggers. Sometimes mere an alphabet like ‘I’ is needed for them to explode.

Here is a demo

“Hello, how are you. I am..” 

“Hi, check my new lipstick shade, oh this is a new ring, I got myself a week ago, just like that, I have lost 2 kgs, my new sofa looks awesome when I sit on it, I was the inspiration of the new party..” 

These bombs explode in a high pitch, it is so loud that you cannot hear your own sound. Yes, faint voices in the head might be felt which keep pushing your body to run! Run to the farthest possible place, away but alas it is of no help.

The only word that can be understood here is - I. .. It’s the “I me” kind, they have a big topic, I...the world revolves around them, centre of earth, attraction, everything. It’s comparatively easy to answer them, a smile and “ WOW, wow, wow, wow, well, wow, really, amazing, wow,great,good ”.

Word of caution – Compliment! Never try to compliment because if any sentence which sounds like a compliment to them increases their coordination of organs, multiple times... like a catalyst. 

Category three 

"Time bomb" – I guess this category is self explanatory; Although I find this category most deadly because there is no symptom or warning signal. They will give you time and space. But actually they are taking time to create a space for themselves and as a topic is touched, they explode. There will be debate, explanation and in depth wiki knowledge where you will be drowned to the depth of Mariana Trench and trust me however hard you try you can never survive. Unlike above two categories where mostly a woman takes the credit, this category led the invention and inclusion of the word ‘mansplaining’ in the oxford dictionary.

Category four 

"Butterfly bomb" – This is not exactly a bomb, but a cracker which comes after you once it is ignited. So once activated people can see you running ahead and sparks all over chasing you.

Here is a demo with shaking hands :

“Hello” I am scared. 

“Hi, How r u? You look slim” 

“Really!!!! ” 

“Na, I think u r just wearing loose clothes” 

“Uh!” 

“Is it a new facial, which makes u look little younger, or u took a botox?” 

“Eh??” 

“Your kids are performing well, I heard?” 

“Yaaaaaa” 

“You got them some extra tuition or what? I heard even this school takes the bribe to put the kids ahead!!!!! ” 

“Err,na” 

“Anyways, take care, your fine lines are showing up bye” 

The sarcaholics ..They can’t live if they won’t get their victim; they grab u like a lion grabs a deer, by neck. Uff , u can just struggle but can’t speak or retaliate. They are like a tiger on the hunt, from where and how they will pounce on you, only they can tell, and I RIP for the next two days with heavy doses of alprex. 

Category five 

"Firework" - Once ignited it doesn't explode like any of the above category rather displays a magnificent firework.

“Hi” 

“Hello” 

“How r you?” 

“I m good” 

“Good to hear that...” 

And finally there comes a perfect blend of sense, sensibility and emotions. Someone, who echoes your emotions, highlights your thoughts, hypnotizes you so well that you speak her language and it leads you to the level that you can’t resist her company, die to talk to her again and again. Takes you to a roller-coaster ride, from entertainment to enlightenment, from sorrow to ecstasy, from subtle to loud, and you wish it never stops, but since roller-coaster ride is limited so that the craze stays. You think about them and wish for the next encounter...Of course they are the only motivation why I have kept myself on more of listening side. 

Now it’s your turn to speak :)

Motivation

We all know the benefits of exercising, balanced diet, healthy living. Many of us are following it in some or other way, either partially or religiously, for different reasons. For some it is part of their job – to be fit, it includes models or the face of the society. For some it is a passion – to stay forever young. For some it is a challenge – to be the best.

Recently I met someone who is a charming personality. He told me a totally different reason for living a healthy life. It is his story of life in his own words : 

“I got married when I was 27. I was blessed with twins after three years of our marriage. I am in sales. That means I have to stay a lot on tour. Also when I am in town, the long meetings, late night stay backs, official parties are part of my job. I was a drinker, smoker and a pure non vegetarian guy. Because of my routine, I had no physical activity. When I reached 34, I was overweight. Against the normal weight of 70-72, I weighed 114 kgs. One day I felt dizzy. So I went to my doctor. He is our family doctor for quite long and one of the most renowned doctors of the town. So a deep faith on him is there and will always be there. He asked me to do a complete body check up.

Next day when I went to his clinic with my reports, he saw the reports closely.

He looked at me and asked “ how many insurance policies you have? ” 

I said “ Many ”. 

" Do they cover the natural death as well? " This question coming from a doctor can give you goose bumps. 

I was pale. " What do you mean doctor? " 

He said “ you don’t have much time, high cholesterol, high BP, at very high risk of heart stroke. Since you cannot change my routine and eating habits, better prepare a will. ” He even discussed if I had sufficient funds that can last till the kids are settled and for my wife after that. He gave me a cruel picture of my family, if I couldn't be there for them when they needed me. He literally shook me from inside. I was and still am crazy for my job, but what about my responsibilities beyond them. Am I doing justice to them?

I was stunned. He said, if I can change my lifestyle, the things will improve. It was all in my hands. No medicine will work till I make them work.

I came home and looked at my family. What will happen to them, if something happens to me? - the thought kept me awake the whole night. At 5.30 in the morning I got up and went to the nearby park. I started walking. After a week I felt walking will not help me, so I started jogging. I ran and ran. Since I had no time for the particular gym and that was the only time I could spare, so I followed it religiously. Even on tours, I carried my sneakers and would run on treadmills of the gyms in hotels to the streets of the nearby alley. In a year's time my weight, cholesterol BP everything was under control. I restricted my eating and drinking habits. Quit smoking. Today I am 48, weighing around 68 kgs with no life threats. 

Just because I felt my family is my motivation to stay healthy." 

I am in awe! People have definitely different reasons for doing things. They have different motivations. I am really curious, what is your motivation ? 

The Road So Traveled...

The only thing worse than being blind is having sight but no vision~ Helen Keller

Look, see, glance, watch, stare, gaze – some gestures we describe that our eyes do. But they do things beyond. They are busy creating a memory for us, sometimes without our knowing. I recently saw the movie 'highway'.I have been reading the reviews which are talking about the subtle messages, cinematography and lot more. But my experience was tad different.I always believe that everyone connects differently with things around him; may those be people or situations or the movies. While people around me were more engrossed with the story line, actors, music, dialogues or the subtle message I was really busy with the Highways. The roads they traveled and my memory played a parallel kaleidoscope for me.

I could connect with every road; as the sand infringed the concrete and the cars pushed them back; the mountains stooping over the road as if held by Hercules for us to pass; the barrage connecting two states with a dam barricades exactly underneath them with gallons of water on one side waiting for the doors to let it through.

I remembered my journeys – it’s been almost two decades now that I am sitting next to a person and have seen so many places together in different cars, with different co-passengers, in different seasons and reasons. I have seen sunrises and sunsets, laid back and saw us racing towards the horizon or at times stooping over the dashboard in a hope to pierce through the dense fog and look beyond. At some deserted roads where the birds were not used to of vehicles and flew so low that we had to slow down so that they could cross over safely or saw monkeys watching us zoom by. A place nearly 4000 m above sea level with mountains as a wall and nothing to stop us from falling down on other, a single road which was intentionally not repaired and was guarded by army or the waterfalls that flowed down the roads.

A place in India where we would not see sand or rocks on the sides but the nature would cover its black soil with white cotton; soft white long strands everywhere - on trees, sideways like a white soft blanket.

The roads which ran parallel to rivers – the flow of water could excite you and scare you to death, depends how you think. The coast lines that made the roads curve so beautifully that we could see sun drowning in the sea.

A few of my friends suggested that they felt the movie was bit depressing but for me it was different – it was a memory I never thought would have existed. Yes, the destination was important but the road we traveled was a part of me.

Eyes are the windows to our souls. They are two way roads; very few want to take the route to reach the other side. At times babies smile when they look in our eyes or sometimes they don’t – I feel they can read us clearly inside out. As we grow, we stop reading or at times feel have forgotten that art, but the truth is, it is there, just that we are so busy looking at everything else but the eyes.

Beyond all this, they do something which we don’t see but might see – dreams. Our mind think but they visualize, they make that idea a vision, a dream which we might change into reality. I dream with my open eyes, when I held my babies in my lap, and after years I now feel that my dreams might shape up the way I visioned them to be. I am still praying and my fingers are still crossed.

A few years back I was associated with an organization headed by a very dynamic lady in her fifties. It so happened that we had organized counselling session with an experienced guest speaker and participants invited in an open forum. The strength turned out good and everyone enjoyed the session.

Later an informal interaction over snacks was also organized. I stood happily with the head of the organization and the guest speaker when we saw one of the attendants pointing towards us and a young lady thanking him and walking towards us with a smile. She came close and wished us, then darted her eyes towards me and addressed me as the head of that organization and making the kind request to consider her for a suitable position. Well, I was bit embarrassed, at least appeared to be but from inside I felt the wings growing and flapping. Controlling my emotions I used my never trained Bharatnatyam eye mudras to gesture her towards the right person, and she was smart enough to take the pointers and redirected her rest of the remnants towards her. While she finished the guest lecturer and I were busy controlling our smiles from escaping, and avoided all the eye contacts. But our head was a seasoned lady; she very quickly and in a refined way clipped my wings saying the girl was a non-deserving candidate.

Duh! Just because the candidate made a small error, she was rejected. Was it such strong blow on her ego? This was not fair. I sulked but I had no justifications. I don’t know why the candidate made such judgement, what she was thinking. Could she read my eyes, felt her comfort zone with me rather than pride reflected in others, which any nervous candidate might look for. I would have loved to know it or may be not. I wish!

A faint music played in my mind… tore naina bade dagabaaz re … and I closed my eyes:)

A Date

Well, another usual day, another routine; just juggling with the keys, a water bottle, bag and a bunch of mails. One envelope caught my attention. Though it was simple, plain looking but it only had my name, no address, no sender’s name or any other details. Not sure of what next, I opened the seal. There was a very thin paper, soft and grainy, delicate. I took it out. Every grain had its own identity but yet fully attached to other, inseparable. It was translucent, and blank. I flipped it. Was it some kind of joke? I finally positioned it towards the window. The light passed through the paper. Every grain lit up. A few lit up even brighter, with a golden hue. They joined together and created a few letters. 

Dear Hemani, you got a date with time. 

Date with time? Is it a misprint or words have jumbled up? 

I looked up. He was looking at me, smiling. 

“Oh! I am not ready...” I muttered. 

“Will you be ever?” The smile was even bigger. 

And I looked back at the card. A few grains from corners seem to have disintegrated. A lot was going on to comprehend, to understand. 

“Well hello” I managed. 

“Very Well hello”, and he again smiled. And I looked at him. Not bad. Off guard, clueless. Not sure of what next? 

“Hmmm…” I cleared my throat. “So? I mean such pleasant surprise”. 

“You are missing me a lot these days dear. I hear it so often from you; you are chasing me, I am running very fast, you are not getting a bit of me. I guess you have complained about it to the entire world. So here I am, with you, for you. After all how can I afford to even breathe with so many complaints from you?” he was crisp. 

Was he sarcastic or simply buttering or genuinely concerned? 

“Well, I guess, that’s all true. Isn't it?” we looked at each other and I was falling in love with that charm. No wonder they call him biggest healer. I managed to hid my smile after imagining the wheel of Mahabharata or a big oldie with sparkling white extra extra long beard – what wild imaginations people have! 

“Of course you are running fast. I am tired of chasing you all the time. At one moment I saw my doll Muskaan in my arms wrapped in a towel looking at the new world and I blinked my eyes and I see Muskaan celebrating her 14th birthday.” 

“Oh please…I have seen you when you ignored me completely. Even I stood there for a moment looking at you, when you were chasing your kids in a garden, cuddling them or when you two were deep lost in thoughts with smiles on your lips over a cup of tea, and then I tip toed from there, so that I don’t disturb you. Rather I guess you have tagged me with good and bad, made me a hero and a villain. At times I felt so bad when I saw you praying that I should pass soon. I never wanted anything bad for you. I am and will be same for you always.” He looked at me again. 

I was speechless. I just managed to smile and looked at him. He was smiling at me. I sat beside him with a cup of tea and enjoyed the silent moments which were clanking happiness all around us. I looked at that invitation card, and the last few grains disintegrated in thin air, I looked up and fresh air kissed me softly. 

Liar Liar!

“ Make the lie big, make it simple, keep saying it, and eventually they will believe it ” Adolf Hitler quotes.

Jhooth bolna paap hai!. Lying is sin – a basic lesson learnt, crammed and understood. Well I am not clear about the last one “Understood”. If lying is a sin, then would we all burn in the fire of hell, or is there an upper or lower limit which keeps us away from that excruciating fire. Well, if lying is a sin, then why do we lie? Does even a day passes where we don't lie? Why can’t we handle the truth? Why the truth is bitter and lies are sweet?

I have heard of lethal lies, white lies, bluffing and so many different types.

I feel the lies are much larger than we think them about. They are subtle statements with huge impact. They are in our blood. At times even the speaker cannot distinguish between a truth and lie. Well one category of lies is devastating, it is malignant and has a specific purpose of destruction in one form or the other. But then there is another category. The category where lies are not so deadly and they might lead us to the hell fire that might be bit less scorching.  Here are a few everyday lies:

Automatic lies : Got up late. Coffee spilled on important documents. The car refused to start. Phone fell over and over again and look like jumbled puzzle pieces And then someone asks: "Hey how are you?" 

And here comes a Colgate smile and the automatic lie: "I am good." Ding! Ding! Ding!

Conditional lies : She asks - "Hello Dear, how do I look?" (When she looks like a fat macaw!)

Now the answer depends on what is the destination?
His parents (A big grin): "Oh darling you are looking fantastic."
Boss’s Party (A big grin): "You have reduced; this dress suits you a lot." 
Friend’s get together (A big grin): "You are looking like a sex goddess." 
Her Parents, parties, get together (faint obvious artificial smile): "good." (You still want to live!)

Save your ass lie : Mom is heard shouting - "who broke my favourite vase?"

 
and  the save your ass lies mutters out: "how? when? Where? I was not home! I was sleeping! I was listening to my I-pod!" And the story continues.

To make someone happy lie : A distressed friend holds your hand and cries "Oh No! What to do, I have been working out so hard for last two weeks but not lost even an inch." 

And the loyal friend who lives with the aim to keep his/her friends happy responds : "No no, you have lost. I could see it on your face. You are looking great now. That extra fat is wearing down." 

Phrendly lies : Ok, I could not get head or toe of what she writes, but since she is my “Phrend” I will comment on her post : "You write so deep. Your writings make my day. Fantastic, awesome, lovely" and hum saath saath hain :) (We are together for eternity)

Well, when lies make someone smile, are they still categorized as sinful? Of course I am not talking about crossing that thin line where they become deadly but the innocent lies, noble lies that make our tough lives a little less hell till we live.

Once, during the days when Japan Earthquake was prime news, I asked my son to keep all the toys properly in his cupboard. Next day they were in the same position I left them a day before. I asked him, why he didn't do it, so he enlightened me : "Ma, Just in case the earthquake comes here, the toys will be a mess again and my efforts will go waste!" 

Whoa! I didn't like the rarest possibility of truth. I wished he could have lied to me: I forgot, or my finger was aching. 

Lying is comforting or sinful? Whether the dynamics of comfort zones change with time or not, these lies made someone feel good for some time. Think about it.

A cup of Tea!

It was a small town. Quaint. Content. It had all the qualities, which attracted a retired person to spend his comfort life there. 

A telecom company, which had many loyal senior citizens in that area, had a new cluster head. As he took charge, he realized the volume of such clientele. He thought that so many old people come from a great distances to pay their bills, which could be quite troublesome for them. He worked out with his team and decided that from now on, there will be door to door payment pick up facility for the retired people. His thinking and plan was well appreciated by his team. Quite motivated, he was feeling good for doing something on humanitarian grounds. 

Once the facility started, he started getting messages from those customers, requesting for a meeting. Curious enough, he asked the people who were directly involved in these dealings, if there was any flaw or complaint. They replied “Many were curious, whose idea was it. And they showed interest in meeting you”. Staying positive, he thought, maybe they are trying to be thankful for the helping hand extended to them. So instead of meeting one by one, he organized a small tea party for the customers who wanted to meet him. 

The destined day, people came, but he sensed something unusual in the air. They were not pleased. So without wasting time, he asked the reason they wanted to meet him. One wise man stood up and said “We all are really grateful to you that you tried to help us by door to door payment pick up facility but we would appreciate if you stop it from immediate effect”. Stunned by the statement, he didn't know how to react so politely asked for the reason. 

The old man replied “Such small things like paying bills, getting groceries, vegetables etc. are our excuses to get out of our house. It gives us a reason to talk to people. We come to your outlet, pay our bill, enjoy a cup of tea with your staff and a hearty laugh at times”. 

Even we all smiled as he shared this incident with us, saying “Neki ki aur joote khaye” (was cursed for a good deed). 

I am not able to get it out of my head. It reminds me of my family, the elders who are staying away from me, because career, money, better life made us move and because they don’t want to leave their hometown. Even we don’t force them, because it’s like uprooting a complete tree and forcing it to flourish somewhere else, which rarely happens. But somewhere, they might be also looking for such excuses or places to pass their time. Looking for a company which can bring some smiles to them. Some curious faces, who wants to hear the adventure they had once. Some appreciative gestures, when they proudly show their family as the trophy they won. 

Life is hard. I can’t be with them, but I can be someone who needs someone, where I am. 

Ghar se masjid hai bahut door chalo yun kar le, kisi rote huye bachche ko hasaya jaye.

That Orange Watch...

"There are times when silence has the loudest voice" 

Time pieces are my dad’s passion. He has an awesome collection of watches and timepieces. 

I think I was ten that time. He came home, he was very happy. He opened a box, and took out a watch. It had an orange transparent cover. I could see all the screws and nuts inside, the tiny springs and the various sizes of wheels which were moving with my heartbeats. He showed it to my mother. His friend got it from abroad on his request; A very rare collection in those times. I wanted to see it, but since he was showing something to my mother, I was asked to wait. My patience was not with me. I wanted it badly. To add to my miseries, my younger brother, who was a toddler that time came and climbed up in my father’s lap. He was attracted to the bright orange colour and extended his hand, and my dad, out of love, tied it on his hand. That was it! I was furious. How could he do this to me? 

"No one loves me!" I shouted and stomped out of room. 

Within a few minutes, my brother came to me. He was holding the watch. He smiled and gave it to me. The furious me! I took the watch and slammed it hard on the floor. The watch shattered. It was made up of glass! The glass, screws, springs, wheels were everywhere. I was pale. I was sure it was not going to be good for me. So I ran and hid behind my grand mother. Even slept there, I was scared the next morning. As I knew, the moment I would get near them, it would be bad, really bad. 

But to my surprise neither mom, nor dad said a word to me. Though I felt bad but was somewhere relieved, that they have not taken it too seriously. I never touched the topic, assumed they must have thrown the pieces and the issue. 

Last year, I visited my parents. I was all set to go with my dad somewhere, when he asked me to get a watch from his cupboard as he forgot to take one out. 

I opened his drawer and saw the timeless collection of watches. I took out the watch he asked me to and was about to close the drawer when a box caught my attention. It was very familiar. Out of curiosity, I opened the box and saw those shattered pieces of that orange watch. I think every piece they were able to pick from the floor that day was in that box. I shivered. I felt a hard kick deep inside. I cannot explain that feeling. He has kept it all those years! Is it a souvenir he has kept to remind him of the bad temper of her daughter or the broken dream which he could never wear? 

Every piece pierced me deep inside, though still I don’t have courage to ask him, why he has kept those pieces with him? A bigger question that gripped my mind is, though I know he has forgiven me, but will I be able to forgive myself for this ever?

That Honest Man!

It looked like any ordinary village. People worked, laughed, fought and patched up. The whole day, everyone would be engaged with some or the other activity. But there was something different about that village. It was village of thieves. Every night, every person would go out for stealing something from someone else’s home. Since everyone knew it is going to happen every night, they stopped using locks. While they would be busy cleaning someone’s closet, someone would be cleaning their lockers. So by the time day breaks, everyone would be even, they gained what they lost. There was equality in the village, no one was above or below other person. Hence a harmony was restored. There were no accusations, as everyone was a thief. People were satisfied and happy. There was a crystal clear conscience, where no one was jealous of anyone, played politics or back stabbed anyone. Everything in that village was good, till he came. 

He, the honest man. He came and settled down there. The old wise men of the village could foresee some bad omens upon his arrival and decided to tell him about the regular practice. They urged that he should also start stealing every night. But he refused. 

Now every night people would break in his house and steal something or the other. Meanwhile he was able to influence some people and convinced them that stealing is a sinful act. Hence they also stopped stealing. But people who were not convinced would keep breaking in all those houses and take something away. 

The honest man could not bear things, and left the village one night silently. But it changed things forever. Those who were stealing became more and more rich. They now guarded what they earned. Locks and keys were in fashion again. Those who didn't became poorer day by day. With wealth, they became more powerful, started keeping guards, and started commanding rest. Poorer were tortured if they protested. Gradually, there were politics, backstabbing, jealousy and finally there was a king, his supporters, his army and slaves working for him. Now no one was happy, people who were rich were trying to become richer. The poor were unable to rise and cursed everything around him. 

Is sin always a sin? We are righteous. We believe that almighty gives us the power to fight against the evil. We can change things. But is it necessary that it comes to a perfect end? There is a larger picture to be seen, which at times people miss. For the harmony and balance of nature, it at times accepts the imperfections. Or else roses won’t have thorns. And there are chances that a thorn-less rose wouldn't have existed. Happiness is one factor which at times decides the existence of a sin or a virtue. Sometimes, life is complicated, we have basic learning and we are conditioned so that we can differentiate between good and bad. But as we grow, at times good doesn't seem so good and bad doesn't sound that bad. We look ahead, and choose the virtues, but miss the bigger picture. We regret. 

“ When I was 5 years old, my mother always told me that happiness was the key to life. When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote down ‘happy’. They told me I didn't understand the assignment, and I told them they didn't understand life.” John Lennon.

.

The Curious Case of Mr.Eyezzor Button!

Mr. Eyezzor Button – he is a walking definition of a perfect husband. The scholar with an accent. The encyclopedia of everything. Since looks could not kill people, hence he gets a lot of points here. Big spectacles, on a round face, with a Himesh style voice, who believes in pronouncing “kaaaan” from nostrils rather than epiglottis. He can sue you for being a racist, if you fail to acknowledge his presence in dark. 

Well, that was not exactly why he was categorized under “Neighbours envy, owners pride category” . While his wife would be busy chatting and gossiping with us, he would be holding his two hyper kids, which was pretty impressive. 

Well, many can do that as well, but this one stunt is his signature style. We discovered it one evening, when we saw her rushing towards her home. When asked, she smiled and said “ Actually we are leaving for Mount Abu in another hour or two, so I am rushing with my last minute packing ”. 

“ O, Wow! You are going by train? ” one of us inquired. 

“ Naah, Mr. Eyezzor Button is driving ” she mentioned with a smile. 

“ What are you saying? It’s a ten hour drive and its 7 P.M. now. Means you will leave at 9 at night. Do you think it is safe to drive that late? ” (As heard from my husband who is dead against late night driving) I gave a baffled look. 

“ O, yes, what is the problem? See kids will sleep peacefully. No hunger pangs, nature’s calls, sibling fights etc. We will reach there early morning, will rest for 2-3 hours and then will get whole day for sight seeing and shopping. ” 

(Wow! Superman!!!!) – The inner voice was all of a sudden too loud. 

“ Ya great, enjoy the weekend. And when are you coming back? ” We together wished her. 

“ We will start Sunday night and reach here early morning. ” She said casually.

She left, leaving us all green. We all envied her for getting the “Superman”. Why can’t we convince our husbands for such stunts? 

They follow the same pattern for any outing, a hometown visit (which is again 400kms from their residence). 

Once, we met Mr. Eyezzor Button at a parking. We were three ladies, getting out of our car, while he was approaching towards the next car, parked to ours. We all looked at him and flashed the Binaca smile and to our dismay, he ignored us. How could he? What a level of loyalty for Mrs. Eyezzor Button. 

“Fine!” We silently looked at each other with a mental note to kill her for this. 

“ Hello Mrs Eyezzor Button, we met your husband the other day in a parking and what loyalty yaar, he didn't acknowledge our presence in your absence. We are not that bad yaar. At least give him permission to smile back .” We wailed. 

She looked at us. The grave looks gave all of us a shiver from inside. She took a deep breath and said “Please yaar, there is nothing like that. Why will he not acknowledge, if he will see you guys. Actually, he is getting a treatment for his eyes ”. 

“ What? ” We almost got a heart attack. 

“ Ya, he is having a vision problem since childhood. These days he is taking a famous treatment from Chennai. Though it is not very helpful, but now he feels bit better. ” She continued. 

“ Oh, so he could not make out our presence that day .” We were trying to take a clear picture. 

“ Yes, he is not able to figure out things clearly. There is just an outline of the person, but the finer details are not clear. Also he is not able to judge the distance between objects ” She confessed. 

One of us was mentally fainted, other was almost drowsy, but I, the brave one, before passing out, muttered “How Mr. Eyezz-or-Button manages the night driving then? ” 

“ He has a deep faith in God .” She explained. 

“ So do we!! ” The swinging sign board behind truck flashed before my eyes “In God, We Trust” “Buri Nazar Wale

tera Muh Kaala” “Ok…Horn Please” …. tapluk, tupluk, thud – fainted! (Please sprinkle some water on my face – koi paani maaro re!!!)