Angrily Happy

Is there anyone among us who does not wish to be happy? That’s unlikely.

Yeah! Unexceptionally, we all wish to lead our life with an elevated spirit. It won’t be a waste to mention if few of us also desire to estimate our core, more valuable than just to be an earning machine! We aspire for the Bliss! That can be another criterion that we might follow different ways to nurture our senses for the eternal soulfulness. Few see the materialistic gain as source of happiness whereas some of the weeping philosophers see imperishable Atman as the ultimate route to Supreme Bliss.

Well, the power of leaving you in a fostered milieu does not lie in big things only but even simple stuff holds that grace to capture your moment in its truest virtue. You can easily notice that the taste of a nutty chocolate, glimpse of the current crush, payment of salary cheque, whistling your favorite song, flipping through an old album, cracking a joke on false pity situation of a friend, peacock dancing in the rain certainly sets the mood.

Though these nifty brainless activities give you momentary cheerfulness but undoubtedly they act as a watch-guard in pumping up the current and substance in your life.

By now we all have witnessed that Life is a sexy bitch so why to miss the pleasures gained from these saucy sachets for bigger happy moments. Doesn’t it sound like a foolish act!

To add, the wisdom of being happy does not lie only in the fact of enjoying these cheesy captivating flashes but also in converting the unconstructive, pessimistic, depressing, and downbeat blazes into positive shades.

We all, can very well prepare ourselves mentally to withstand the uninformed, unfortunate major incidents and can try our best to overcome the negativities but the irony is we tend to forget to act cheekily at small shortcomings. It will be funny to know that we pressurize our body to secrete negative hormones for diminutive things…..…things like getting a pimple, unmanageable office work, traffic jam, tasteless breakfast, power cut at night, getting the ticket of first row for a movie, not getting the parking space, jammed flush of washroom ….and the list goes on. I perfectly believe, after reading it, you can easily reconnect with the last teeny weeny inadequacy whose irritation made you changed your inner environment by altering your hormonal secretion.

This is also another fact that the above mentioned loopholes causes irritation and not the anger but to realize deeply both are the forms of negative emotions only….so why to bother if it is anger or just a mere irritation…..why not to simply think of controlling these negative emotional crackers from burning.

I know! I know! It’s very easy to sayJ than to perform. Huh!! Let me confess that even I do not completely follow the above suggestions but please appreciate me for my efforts to trail down the said track.

On a serious note, at this stage of my life, I am more concerned about changing my negative emotional reactions into positive ones, than the facts -- fair or unfair -- that I encounter in my life.

For controlling the emotional rage you can go through “n” number of websites or books. In fact you must be aware of some of the famous tips like deep breathing, drinking water, talking to a friend, acting cool etc etc…

But for me, I usually keep my faith in self-designed philosophies than the readymade ones. In my view, every individual is different, his circumstance, emotional level, analysis through experience, situation handling ability, habits, beliefs, comfort zone, ideas, philosophy…everything is different……he knows his world and its tactics in the best way……..so, as per me, it would be good to go for suggestions and speeches that might help/suits your kind of personality. Therefore, I follow the theory, designed by keeping in mind “my personality type”.

For me giving respect to every person’s thought and individuality keeps me away from hating that person. Giggling at silly things, making fun of critical circumstances at office and reminding of the phrase “getting irritated at small things is a fool’s job” many a times helps me in regulating the release of negative hormones in my veins.

Moreover, it is said that “Those who can laugh without cause have either found the true meaning of happiness or have gone stark raving mad” but trust me laughter is an instant vacation, if done without loosing the senses. Take time every day to do something ridiculous. It will engage you in doing waste which can be counted far better than cribbing at silly stuff.

Also, try not to confuse any short term pleasures from external sources with happiness. True and lasting happiness always comes from within. External pleasures never last. Train your tape (memory) as per your personality type. The way is not in the sky. The way is in the heart. 

Remember the say “You will not be punished for your anger, you will be punished by your anger.”

So, why not to try to be "Angrily Happy" by converting your short-lived anger into partial/full happiness!!

Boarding School

Note: - The mentioned incidents are of my friend and colleague Santanu. Also, special thanks to Kalpana for her creative drawings.

“Hit….hit…hit it man”…..”O Crap! ………What Hanu….you again did a foul…we are loosing guy…… you know it right!!!”

“Ouu… The fewer rules a coach has, the fewer rules there are for players to break Gudla”….huh!! (The sound was quite sharp in a very well framed Hinglish Ishytle)”

“Aaaha!!........now that’s my boy……I can proudly say he carries my genes safely and nicely”…….the words simply got discharged from my 40 years old cracked epiglottis after watching the football match of kids, playing in the water crammed field……..well the very innovative game is called as “Water Fussball”

Yah…yaaah….. It’s my cute and lovely kid Hanu. Hanu, who got his name as a derivative of my break-up name “Santanu = Sant + Hanu”, where Hanu means monkey in Bengali. His name was kept when his father himself was a kid…….hmm!!...not to be surprised …it happens only in India.

Well….don’t know exactly when this “Water Fussball” match made me slipped on the floors of the cubicle of my memory track and I finally started turning the pages of my childhood recollection album……….and heard the tickled voice…………………

“Santanu………chup koro…..chup, darao…..nahole chap-e pore jabe…. bipode fele debo ami” …….and I almost doubled my horse power to escape from my Head master after learning his verrrrrrrrrry sweeeeet intention.


Can’t help it man… It was poor me only, who got caught red-handed while throwing the tea at the poster of Maa durga, prepared by the gurukul’s student, for the durga-pooja ceremony. Actually, I was passing by the art room, carrying glasses of tea to my room. I then unthoughtfully stopped, to check out the paintings………but tell me how can I help myself if I too wish to add my own views to the painting? So, without resisting the thought, I simply drew her moustaches and gave shades to her body with the tea.....

My house warden, having seen this, ran after me like a mad dog, he very quickly picked up the broom and started opening it’s nut-bolts to loosen the attached pipe and……..and my dear friend rest was the story………….the story of his instant invention of a music piece, by considering me as a drum and the broom’s pipe as a drum stick.

Aaaah! He was not that bad also, he then later visited my room with some candies to show his expression of concern…the very same candies which he gives after every beat…but this time, since I got the cruel thrash, so I prepared myself to not to get convinced over such a small treat and therefore, I demanded him an Ice-cream!!

I suppose that this was the first case of violence which I scripted down in my diary. Yes! The diary writing was the part of course-curriculum of our prestigious Rama Krishna Mission Hostel (Hotel) - Ashram. The activity was introduced to cultivate good habits in the students.

So, this time I had something new to letter down in my diary apart from my usual complaints… ….complaints like……my room-mate didn’t share the biscuit with me, Soumya helped me in cheating in class-test and how I took revenge from Soumesh by making him eat his favourite hajmola goli, by first keeping it down on bathroom’s floor for a while and then handing it to him with a notorious thought of making him eat the highly toxic goli………..

Well, apart from diary writing, my school has enforced several other activities to grow children into a perfect human being. Activities like doing at least one act of random kindness in a day (Good turn knot in Boys Scout) like teaching the villagers, writing exam paper for blind students, clean surroundings or plant a tree.

Sighhhh!!!!Definitely, my Gurukal was way different from other boarding schools.

Our day always started at 5am when, the poor, small, lazy kid’s of 5^th standard were asked to wake up and perform PT under the rising sun. After horrible exercise, we were told to join in the prayer hall in dhoti-kurta which was then followed by a meditation (Extra sleeping hours) for 15mins.

By checking out such a tight and strict schedule, you can easily estimate the amount of love that our parents had for us and their great will of making us a perfect human.

The decision to send me to a boarding school, at the age of 9, was not a random take but it was me only who broke down all the records of their patience level. Let me share with you people the incident that nailed the final decision of my parents of sending me to a boarding school.

It was the month of July, the rainy season has just got started. Those days, I developed an unsaid relationship with the creatures. The bond was developed when I used to row my paper boat in a water lodged area. Now, the earthworm, toads and flies had become my best friends. The nature attracted me so much that I decided to make these creatures part and parcel of my house. So, with this intention, I caught few fishes and crabs from the nearby pond and decanted them into the well, the traditional well of our family at the backyard of my house. On regular basis, I used to see my fishes swim. My newly built well aquarium made me happy all the time. But the feeling did not continue for longer period as after few days, I could not find my fishes swimming at the surface of the water. Hence, I decided to go inside the well to check them out. The only thought which made me think twice of the adventure was to check if my parents are away. But time! you have good time and also you have bad time…………. and certainly it was my bad time when my father caught me doing the stunt. Alas! It was not me only who got the thrash but to my friend also, who was helping me. The end of the rope was tied to my waist so as to help me climb down the walls of the well whereas the other end was held by him.

It would be hard to believe the after-effect of our accidental-caught….the reaction of my father was so unexpected that my friend got wet control the nature’s call.

“Akkebare niche chole giye tor kaaj kormo sere ne (go into it and do all your curious works!)” my father yelled while hanging me upside down inside the well……lolz!!...but that time it was so scary that it made my vocals to repeat only one word “Bachaaaaaaaaaaaooooooooo”

Nothing new, it was almost my daily job to act naughty. My mischevious plans and wayward tricks had no end. I remember the very recipe of making a toxin for my neighbor’s dog, which I hated like anything. The recipe was prepared by mixing Colgate, oil, charcoal, fevicol, washing powder, waste food and datura. Though, it is another fact that the inventive mixture didn’t help me to encash my hatred towards him as he did not eat the offered bread (with the toxic spread over it). I suppose he sensed the underlying wicked idea.:p

Well please do not conclude from this incident that I hate animals. If it would have been the case, I would have never allowed “Laila”, the dog; secretly in my room, whom I found in the pit, at the road side. I brought her home and allowed her to share my place. I always knew that my parents do not like pets. Therefore, while going to primary school, I used to drop her out in the playground and after coming back from school, I allow her the back-door entry. Since, my house was huge and enough free space was available at the backyard, so I easily managed to give Laila her dormitory, near the well under the tree shelter. She also knew the fact that I am secretly keeping her, so she never barked at night. Alas! Again, my mother one day discovered the she-dog and asked me to drop her far away from the home. With no other choice I did so. I dropped her to some unknown place and came back. But this was not the last time when I saw her. She surprised me after two months, when I saw her at my gate with 6 puppies!!!

Now, Laila and her six kids are happily living with my parents, legally inside my house, with a minor change in the situation, that now they are in and I am out of my house, in Gurukul.

I will never say that it was my parent’s fault to send me to a boarding school at such an early age but “Hero” in me was so sharp and curious that they chose “Gurukul” to develop the true “Heroic” deeds in me.

“Baba……baba…. bachao...maa marche'' Hanu’s voice jerked me from my flashback memory.

Her mother was running after him with a broom. The enquiry about his boo-boo made me to discover the level of his puckishness! He used my highly expensive, recently bought sweater from Japan, as a bed cover for the kittens, whom he found at the terrace. The very act of kindness was done with the thought that the soft kittens might need a soft blanket to keep safe their soft skin from harsh cold.

With the age, I am slow now but still hunt for such incidents. When I see my boy, the entire

Life flashes on, I see all the objects are floating around and I try to recollect those secretly. Sometimes, I feel I speak too much about the life but it’s hard to stop when there are so much wonders. ‘My heart feels like a balloon which is about to burst...then I remember to relax and stop trying to hold on to it and then it flows through me like rain and I cant feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life’.

Hmmmmmmmmmmm (a deep sigh)………I am deeply thinking…in fact seriously thinking…....if I should admit Hanu to a boarding school???

Pulse of Change

                  

Mineralized thoughts, dancing at the backyard of my cerebrum, usually drums hard to pay it heels with the rhythm of life. Most of the time, you will spot me out trying to analyze myself. I, very often, examine my skeleton, staying alive in my family’s cupboard, to learn the flavors of life. The need is to chalk out my very own trend of evolution. Huh!!….let me not sound like a complicated She-Ox, in simple, I wish to scrutinize the transformation under the two categories “Before” and “After” to finally analyze the resultant “Change” derived from the said vectors.

The abovementioned two categories are very universal, usually when, you drive back your machinery to a SISS (self improvable service station).

Well, it is said that curiosity is the mother of all the inventions. It is true then also when you are inquisitive about yourself. You do self analysis and end up knowing/ discovering a hidden attribute. With every eye the reason of conducting a self-analysis may differ, but I am pretty sure that the backbone of this exercise says “Reveal to me my own very secrets”.

I know, we all very often undertake this exercise to understand the scientology of life’s ways and the impact of the changed us on our daily routines. Therefore, I too followed the methodology to do self-analysis through knowing the change in me. After analyzing, a list was prepared of the changes that have happened to me recent past years.

Aah!  Strange it was for me to discover that most of the times it is the simple things that changed my life. I, mainly, react and mind small things and easily forgive and forget big things.

So, after completing the self-analysis appraisal form, I finally reached to a conclusion that “Yes! I have changed a lot and all the changes were positive, the change was for improvement and the change was for better me”

Issshh!! I believe this was the only mistake that I made. Uff! I declared the above mentioned statement so clearly and so confidently that it gave a good faith chance to memory to challenge my say.

For challenging me, It took the said example:-

It happened few months back, when I was out in Delhi, for some regular shopping. To return back to my sister’s place (in Delhi) I started looking for a rickshaw. I tried to negotiate the fare amount with many rickshaw pullers but none was ready to compromise. But, finally I got one, who himself came and showed interest in dropping me at the price that suits me. While dropping me back home, he enquired, if I have friends who uses rickshaw very frequently. He further, offered the charges which are at our convenience level. He told me that he is in urgent need of money as his son is hospitalized, where he daily needs to pay Rs.250 and thus he needs to make sure of this minimum earnings on daily basis. 

I heard his tale with full patience. I will call it as “tale” only because I did not believe him. I remember, somebody once told me to check out person’s eyes to know the “truth”. But irony is, people are getting smarter day by day…………….they can easily lie and fool you with full emotions…..so for me this option never works……..I personally believe a person, only when he proves his words and for this you need time!!....but here we lacked time.

So, thing was, I didn’t trust him. I told him “Sorry bhaiya! I cannot help you. I do not stay in Delhi and I have no friends here and moreover with money also I cannot help!”

After saying this, I left the rickshaw.

Hell! My reminiscence acts very strong when it has to blame or question me.

By looking at this incident, I wasn’t able to judge the genuineness of the rickshaw puller. If I would have been earlier Shweta I would have definitely helped him out with some money no matter if he is genuine or fake. A life would have matter more to me than a feel that I am getting fooled by someone. But you see, I am a changed Shweta!!

Problem is being emotional we always have to pay heavy price and it’s not good to keep doing so. The Wikipedia definition of “Emotional Stability” defines it as “the state of an individual that enables him or her to have appropriate feelings about common experiences and act in a rational manner”. But crisis is, we many a times, fail in maintaining the “Emotional Stability” and ignore the genuine call.

The above example was just a simple case taken to show the other side of the change. The more complex and guilt making case will come if you were solely responsible for making someone’s life heaven by showing your concern in the needed situation, but that time you didn’t pay heed and thus by default became the reason for other’s crashed life/situation.

I suppose we did not change as we grew older; we just get our trueself more diluted….we loose ourselves in this fast track…….and if I visualize the other side of the coin I see “If you don't create change, change will create you” and if a change is forcible i.e. the rude surroundings and the modern culture forced you for the change…….umm…let me call it as “Adoption of Necessary Evil” then also we are explicit to miss our true character.

The hypothesis “Adoption of Necessary Evil” is not practiced by us right from the beginning but we start cultivating it during our developmental years. We all in our lives, come across with some real good, gigantic bamboozler’s who knowingly/unknowingly participates as a foundational brick in building and confirming our emotional permanence, so that in near future our surroundings can witness a Stronger Us. 

We definitely cannot change our past. We cannot change the fact that people act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. But problem is “Are we really efficient enough, to maintain every time, the balance in our new gained attitude?”

The final un-answered question is: “Does Change always come bearing gifts?”

Zara itna to bata do

Mujhmain hee baske mujhse hee kaunsi ye tasveer banwa rahe ho
Ye kaunsee chaal hai tumhari manjil tak pahuchane ki, jo itni der laga rahe ho

Zara itna to bata do O mere Sai

Pata nahi ki koi saza de rahe ho, yaa yun hi mushkilo se mera saamna kara rahe ho
Badhi huee uljhan ko tum aur uljha rahe ho, meri zameen ki chadar ko bhi kyun le jaa rahe ho

Zara itna to bata do O mere Sai

Sangharsh ke iss registaan mai, dhoop se mera kajal jala rahe ho, aankho main base iss samundar ko kyun sukha rahe ho

Jiss tarannum ko hum gungunana nahi chahate, kasak ki ussi darakht pe, humain kyun baar baar aazama rahe ho

Zara itna to bata do O mere Sai

Roj raat sitaaro ka kaarawaan dikhaake, Kal......kal aur kal kehke meri zindagi ke ye anmol pal kyun chura rahe ho

Aasha ke baandh pe chalti saanso ki lehar ko, tum aasamaan se bhi aage ka raasta kyun dikha rahe ho

Zara itna to bata do O mere Sai

Daldal main phasi kashti ko kinaare ka intezaar kara rahe ho, kyun uss bhujhate hue diye ka bharosa utha rahe ho

O mere Sai, zara itna to bata do ke…………….

Jindagi ki Paheli

jindagi ne noore-nazar barsaya humpe

jab humain iski chahat naa thee

bin maange who sab mila

jiski humain kabhi khwahish bhi naa thee

fir jindagi aayi dobara se

apni kashti ke saath hamare ghaat

par iss baar rehmo-karam nahi tha iska humpe

ye to dene aaye thee bas humain aghaat

taqdeer ke ek ishaare pe dekho

kaisa isne khel dikhaya

veeran kiya mann ka nagar

aur humko seedhe jannat se jameen ka raasta dikhlaya

tauba! loota bhi humko isne tabhi

jab chalkaate firte the hum apni khushi ki ye nami

fir kya tha, hazaar sawaal uthaye humne

aur dekha idhar udhar bhi

tab pata chala ki

ye hai bas ek bhanwar hee

ghoom fir kar wapas aa gaye hum apni takleef ke ghar

aur sochne lage hum yahee har pahar

kya paheli hai ye jindagi

kabhi deti hai khushi aur kabhi deti hai kami

cheena-jhapti ke iss dwandh main aakhir humne jaana itna hee

pyaaz ke chilke ki tarah hai ye hamaree reh-guzar bhi

jitna bhi cheelo, paaoge ek aur nayi lehar

aur saath main ro-oge bhi, dekhar wahee puranee dagar

kaash hota itna aasan

iss paheli ko samajhna

khota naa koi fir, kal aaj aur kal apna

isliye jaane dete hai

iske rang dhang ko samajhne ki yee baat

socho bas itna ki

hoti hai hariyali har tabahee ke bhi baad!!

Mistakenly Mistaken Mistake

“Perfection of Wisdom”. I was / am looking for it since quite a few months. Since my childhood, I have been making my share of mistakes, nothing unique to mention; as we all commit it, and after every incident I used to think and say to myself confidently that I have become wise now and can manage any kind of unseen circumstances. So, playing as a true role of an optimistic moron, I every time thanked God for sanctifying that particular piece of distrustful cake and thus make my taste glands adaptable for the cursed curry. But somehow or it might be quite natural also, that we never stop from consigning a slip-up. We add up to our crunchy choco-bar with more mystical serious nut-cracker falsies with the passing time.

It was during my high school times when I realized that one should open her mouth by first observing the surroundings and should always indulge in a meaningful and sensible gesture in a public place. I got the beat of the heat when I was co-incidentally caught by a female teacher who incidentally was engaged with our geography teacher. If I speak of the incidence then at that time outside auditorium, standing in the queue, I was loudly speaking bullish about the geography teacher. The frustration and indifferent words spooned in my mouth because of the unorganized cultural program and it made me to utter “kya gadhe sir hain and humain bhi gadho ki tarah line main khada karwa rakha hain”.

Hmm….well….well……there were no major serious side effects than this that I got a thrash from his fiancée (a public and an insulting one too:-)) and also I never got more than average marks in Geography thereafter.

So, from here onwards I took a major lesson “See before you Speak”.

Well I, without any fail, believe that our faith is not rooted in mystical sayings that sound profound but actually have no real meaning. We receive and experience it first, and then only we believe it. But yes, definitely, I was not like this before. I used to believe and see without testing its real worth and without experiencing it. I semi-understood this fact, when I got a series of surprising comments from few of my friends whom I always considered good and well-wishers of mine.

Therefore, I took a major lesson “See and Analyze before you Believe”.

Hmm…..well I didn’t stop after my sessions of mistaken lessons. I corrected myself again.

Again! How? Let me tell you how?.....

Standing today I can confidently say “I  hardly meet a person who confesses that he/she is spectacularly stupid and exceptionally dim. Everyone try to be and prove to be at par against the person, standing in his/her premises. Their mind claims to think themselves as intelligent as a NASA officer and as witty as the “Great Chanakya”. Alas! Reality is spitted out when their pre-assumed mind frame gets a good skid with the barren, unruly and hidden circumstances that emerges out with the flush of a gusty air.” Now I know this fact but the actual truth is: I used to be one of those “ONE package” gentry.

So, I took a major lesson “See and analyze, but never assume you know everything”.

By rowing in a boat, decorated with blundered flowers, I have covered almost one-fourth (ideal situation) of my journey and have luckily/unluckily participated in committing small, big, serious, non-serious blunders. Also blunders which do not fall into previously mentioned categories should be equally taken into account and counted.

 Well, before moving further, I would like to request to the readers to not to take me as a descendant of a playing card joker. It’s not like that I do learn from my mistakes only and thus wait for the incident to preach me with a learning chapter but at several times learn from other’s mistakes as well.

I have seen people with grey hair who are extremely wise and have witnessed the hurt given by the strings of this bloody life’s hell prison. Many of them can be truly crowned with the Doctorate of Wisdom. Whatever they say is always right. Whatever they predict always comes true and whatever they decide is a worthy decision to follow.

But irony is I have also seen those very same Doctorates committing the silliest possible mistakes and I do feel sad after discovering the fact that “Even if you know almost everything you are still eligible to make a Mistakenly Mistaken Mistake”

Oohh la…la…..if mistake is quite natural, if mistake is meant to be committed, if mistake has got a permanent seat in the humane life-cycle and if mistake can never be avoided or terminated completely then why the hell one should think of achieving “Perfection of Wisdom”

All human beings, by nature, desire to know and are bound to know through Mistakes!!

                                          

Yesterday & Tomorrow

It happened few days back when I chatted with a Cuckoo at the dawn of the day. I conveyed to her all my troubles and asked her to carry my request of peace to heavenly world. I got relieved by knowing that at least she cared and valued my words, which I tried to converse in the early morning besides the lake. Breeze carrying the moisture of dew drops of Neem trees wrapped my elegancy and nourished my outer layer with hopes. Though it was a temporary gift from the puff of air, but I strongly believe that it met my moment's requirement. The yellow-golden color rising from the horizon of mercy touched my lips as if tending to pour in few words of wisdom and faith. People sitting and chanting mantras at the corridors of gurdwara forced me to question myself again- "If goodness prevails"? With such thoughts sprinting in my mind; I climbed down the stairs of Gurdwara to witness the holiness of amrit lake which in her womb carried the holy temple.

Well, after coming down from the gurudwara's terrace I viewed the grand lake. Stagnant silent water of the lake with its complete glory of grace somehow happened to smile at me with a peculiar curve. It was then when I raised my eyebrows to know the recipe of her cookery show. "Wait…wait Ms. Gupta", she gently answered but again daring enough to add it with a teasing whisper “let me pass the message which I have brought for you”. Meanwhile I too got interested in her fancy bait. It was then when I noticed chirpy water splashes of fishes. The emerging water ripples emphasized to try for the moment and secretly murmured, “You swim in the lake of worriness and think of not getting wet; why don't you change your swimming skills?” “Perception”….yes perception is the right word I believe which I can probably co-relate with the understanding of Life related terms. It's just the angle which makes us and the surrounding worthy. To worry is not the solution but to show concern still can be. Why not to make your own calendar where only two days in a week exist “yesterday” and “tomorrow” and above it why not to practice it and say “There are just two days in the week about which and upon which I shall never worry... Yesterday and Tomorrow.”

I Tried

I tried to cry behind the shutter of my eyes

I tried to smile to lie down to the world

I tried to update my outfit to change the pictures of past from my mind

I tried to visit places to stop myself from buying stuff from a hurt shop

I tried to meditate to concentrate on my present

Aaah.. I forgot to try to live in the moment, to know the real worth of the upcoming future

May Be- "The Complete Story"

I came across with the happenings of Ms. Blanche Durosit last year, during spring season. She ended her love-tale with a semicolon. The unwrapped and unfinished account of hers left the readers with a flimsy water-bubble, the bubble that stores something within, hardly matters if it is a vacuum, and the bubble that is destined to burst.  Her semicolon too carried my sentiments to find out the answers hidden in the photons of the sunrays, which daily bathed the cute Blanche but never revealed to her “her destiny”. Today is 15^th Feb ‘1984 and I could not wait for a better day to add up in the calendar to convey the answers to Ms. Blanche. I, therefore, decided to travel across the frozen deserts of Leh-Ladakh. It was Mr. Joseph Kennedy only, the Chief Monk of the Monarsh Monestry, who told me that the path of my destiny crosses the fortune of Blanche, and I am chosen by the Almighty to interpret the denotation of her emotional and turbulent vibes. I remember it was a month back only when Blanche came to visit this Monestry in quest for locked answers. She has long been interested in various aspects of religion analytics but definitely she was searching for something more. Her search leads her to people of great wisdom, who begin to teach Blanche about the spiritual world. She meets a wise man who dwells in a forest, who teaches her about positivism and trusting in the goodness of the world, but still could not answer her “something more”. The wise man was no other than the Mr. Kennedy.

Every person has a role to play in his own as well as the other’s life. Sometimes, we are being used as a prop and sometimes we use others as a prop. We call it as Life!! So, I was chosen by the nature, a student, studying the basic levels of the Monestry. Aah! Now I understand why the chief Monk found himself ineligible to answer that “something more” of Blanche. Simple and straight was the answer, the role was allotted to me by the God and therefore the surroundings started their job as per HIS commands. There was something in the eyes of Blanche which dragged me back and forced me to follow her eagerness.

“What is she looking for Mr. Kennedy? I can see a blend of anxiousness and stagnancy in her expressions? She seems to be at peace at first look but only she knows the turbulence at her soul. Does she come up with specific query? I asked.

“Yes, my dear Kush! Guess, you can try for her questions. May be you are the chosen one to help her out in her destiny. Go ahead my good student” commanded the chief.

“This is an article my boy written by not so famous author Ms. Gupta. The article got published in “Round of City” section of the “Hello City” newspaper. Read it and you will get the thorough about Blanche.”  Monk further added.

So, here is the article written by not so famous author Ms. Gupta. You can also go through it by clicking at the link:

http://fractureurbrain.blogspot.com/2009/11/may-be.html

 

 

                                         

After reading her story I myself got so much interested that I personally thanked God for HIS allotment criteria. I decided to first find and meet Mr. Sonart Roger to know the ultimate truth and his part of story. Therefore, I started my journey with few franks and a map of Madagascar, Sona’s place. After a good R&D, finally I discovered the truth and chose “letters” as a medium of correspondence to make Blanche aware of the “ultimate reality”. After all I also believed that an answer should be framed in the same format as the question has been put up.

So, here goes my letter for Ms. Blanche.

To
Ms Blanche Durosit,
Paris, France

I hope this letter finds its way to reach you in this big world of ours to deliver you a message which I am sure would be most dear to you to know. My name is Kush and via a common friend of ours I came to know your story about Late Mr. Sonart Roger. To await the return of a loved one whom you knew only for few days for almost 2 yrs is a sign of great strength and faith in love. This very same love drove me to a quest to learn the true reason of Sona’s absence from your life. Please forgive me in case my quest seemed inappropriate to you, but I understand the value of such patience and the throbbing of heart each day to know the answer to that special “WHY”. Please find enclosed below my journey and how I find myself heavy at heart to deliver my message.

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After I heard of your story, I undertook to set myself to a journey to Madagascar rather than writing a letter; fearing the worst that maybe Sona did lie to you about his native place. But your love for him strengthened my faith in him too and I started anyhow. I am sorry I never did get to meet this wonderful guy whom you had met and loved, but more or less I know the reason and story behind his absence. My enquiry started from his very home where I met his parents, and then his ex-fiancée Ms. Sharon Lovehood and a sailor of a ship named Mr. Jack Martin.

Sonart Roger’s Parents
My visit to Sona’s parents was very troublesome. They thought me to be your friend and almost ordered their dog to chew me off the house. Only when I told them a lie (necessary one there); that I was allowed inside. It seemed that they were not too happy about Sona meeting you and proposing you for marriage. It seemed to them that a well-to-do son like theirs ought not to get married to a woman like you. (If only they had known how truly a wonderful woman you are). They had tried their best to change his mind only to make his love stronger; until the day when his father became seriously ill. It seemed that he was about to die from it, when he emotionally blackmailed your loved one to decide otherwise. Sona was a very loving child too, just as he was a loving person towards you. He couldn’t deny his father’s wishes and with a heavy heart it seems agreed to his decision. Here comes the arrival of his to-be-fiancée Ms Sharon Lovehood. It seems she is a carefree girl of the city whose sole purpose is to charm rich boys and enjoy their companionship till the very end only to then pick another guy; and now her eyes were on Sonart Roger “the charming rich bachelor of the town”. She was smart enough to charm his parents first to buy her entry. I am very distressed to let you know that your letters had reached their destination always, but not at the right hands. His mother had received the first letter and it seemed arranged a way to ensure the arrival of all the letters to her. She had kept them hidden from Sona and also committed the sin to give him a fake letter on your behalf saying that you have found another man in France. Please do forgive her for her deed. Although her father later recovered; but they saw to it that he doesn’t turn back to his promise. Soon, the engagement took place and Ms Sharon started living with him. At last all they could tell me was that one day he found out about your letters and was deeply moved. He was almost on the verge of burning the house to ashes for keeping your precious letters a secret from him. Your love, your deep feelings for him and your then living circumstances made him to decide the inevitable; it seems to me now. He didn’t talk to his parents or Sharon for a day or two after that. I am been conveyed that within two days of that disaster day (as they mention to me), Sona left the house for good; writing to them that he would never return back home and plans to settle with you somewhere forever. His parents are in the assumption that he is living with you now, but knowing the truth myself I know more lies to this journey. I bid them farewell and took off to meet Mrs Sharon Miller (she seemed to get married to the city’s richest doctor later).

Mrs. Sharon Miller
Mrs Miller I see truly lives up to her image- Beautiful, charming and CUNNING. It took me quite a bit of an effort to lie nice and proper to her about my visit. Although my visit was short but it prepared me for my next journey. She never did love Sona in the first place and felt that Sona knew it too. More than this she felt Sona loved you more than anyone else. Strange it would seem to you that even after their engagement they never did sleep together. In Mrs Millers own words, “Sonart always did step back from touching me as if his hands were meant to touch someone else. He always seemed so distant and engaged to himself in thoughts. There were times when unknown to my presence near to him he talked to himself sadly- “I wish you could be with me my love. Please forgive me for keeping you away from me so long. My love is and shall always be for you and you only for now and till eternity. ”. Strange remarks if I might add”. Mrs Miller knew she had lost her bet on Sonart and was already trying to distance herself off and devising ways to break the engagement. “It was a good thing that he found out about the letters. To tell you the truth Mr. Kush it was me who hinted him of them. Oh! You should have seen how he blew himself up that day; I never knew till then that he could show so much anger and sadness together. It made me the victim when he left the house for good and took that day’s boat to the capital. To be honest, had he not done so then I couldn’t have pretended to be sick and then get married to my husband, could I? It’s all part of this game of life- some win, some lose. I hope he is happy with that ***** where ever they are. So Mr. Kush tell me, are you a married man?” It took me more than anything to restrain my hand from getting lifted and fly towards those pompous cheeks of hers then. I bid her a quick farewell and rushed to the dockyard to know which ship sailed that day to Toamasina (nearest major port to the capital).

Mr. Jack Martin
At the dockyard I met a very nice resourceful guy who knows everyone and everything that goes on there. He had directed me to meet a certain Mr. Jack Martin (famously known as Jackin) to talk in this regards. Jack was a nice bearded sailor guy, always showing off his gold tooth in the front while smiling. Since I was in a hurry to know about your Sona’s whereabouts I decided to play straight with him. “Aye, he, Senor Sonart was a very nice guy, charming and joyous guy. But he was depressed that day when I saw him; yeah mighty depressed but yet happy his eyes shone to me. Mighty odd if ya’ ask me mate. No one can be sad and happy at once, can they?” Although I agreed with him but inside I knew why it was so. Sona was sad to know the truth after 1 year of staying away from you, disillusioned that you are married and happy at the same time that he is on his way to live with you for good. Yes, only I could understand his state of mind. To answer to your prayers, your letters, your faith, your patience was everything for him now. It seemed that Almighty himself was taking him to you; no wonder he was happy then. “But let me tell ya’ a secret mate, you seem a nice decent fella’ and am sure you won’t go talk to cops about it”. It was then that I raised an eyebrow- Cop? Where did police come into the picture? “Ya’ see mate, the thing is that day there was a storm in our journey and the ship was pretty weak to take it. Now our dear captain was all drunk and dirty that night. Poor Senor Sonart, he tried to reason with the captain to dock somewhere until the storm passes off; but no sir; our captain heard not a word. During the sail Senor was walking by the railing when he got into a tiff with the captain again. This time the captain showed a bit too much of his strength and brushed him only to see him falling off the ship. Poor Senor Sonart, he fell into that storm and no one could see him at that time of night. Am sorry fella’ there was nothing anyone could do and it was an unfortunate event. We reported to no one about it, as no one came to ask us about him until today. Now you tell to no one about this okay? Heed me well, ya’ better be off leaving this dock now”. He was about to leave, when I came to my senses. Sona dead? And that also unknown to anyone; especially to his loved Blanche who is still waiting for him?
“Mr Jack, was there any luggage of Senor Sonart which you people might have kept with you, some letters maybe?”, I asked hopefully. “Ya’ right. I do have some letters now that you mention and a diary of his; that’s all. The dresses and money were taken by others.”
This way I got hold of those precious letters you had sent. Although I didn’t get to understand much of what you wrote in them, but the diary of Sona was very useful to me. It recorded his last moments and thoughts (all for you).

Diary of Sonarta Roger
I am so happy today knowing that my lovely Blanche is not married and waiting for me out there in the beautiful city of Paris. How I wish I could fly to her and give her my arms to rest upon. Oh God! Why don’t you give us loved ones wings to fly just like your angels. It was such a troublesome year to live without her and to bear the presence of Sharon. I know Blanche will never forgive me for what I did, but I am sure she will understand what I had gone through. My god- so many letters unanswered, so many not read by me. How could I ever face her for this? I will ensure that I take her to a beautiful church first thing when I meet her and get married. Later on we both can answer to those letters. Oh that crazy girl, she left her job to await my return and to think love can make sensible people insane. If only I could have known the truth, if only she could have known the truth. How could I have known that the letter was a fake one? No wonder that Sharon was able to make me agree to her proposal and trap me in her charm. Woman, who could understand them- One waits for me and the other traps me in her web? Why such circumstances come in the life of loved ones who wish nothing but to live together and enjoy the moments with each other? If only I could whisper my caring words to this storm which could take it all the way to her and let her know I am coming to her. Now I know why I felt so terrible even after reading the fake letter. True heart can always hear the call of another, and to think that Sharon was almost getting married to me. That witch!! How my parents could be so blind to true love and welcoming to a witch like her. If only they could have thought and cared more to my wishes than their own desires. Blanche would have become such a beautiful wife to me and a daughter-in-law to them. Why I ask you God, does fate play such cruel games at us who are sincere at heart? What rights to do you have to play with my Blanche’s heart knowing how soft and caring she is? I still remember those eyes and that darling face of hers when I saw her at the banks of Seine. Her looking around for a customer on that beautiful Sunday morning, I still remember that wonderful day and date; 18th October 1982- Prized day of my life to meet the most prized possession I could ever imagine. Well, all I can add now is that “all is well that ends well”. Tomorrow is my flight to Cairo and then to Paris. I meet her the next day and off we are to live a beautiful life for the rest of the days. I am coming my love…….I am coming to you forever my treasured one !!

Tears came to my eyes; rather it flowed like a flood from those small eyes of mine. Such love, such passion and such a tragedy to happen to him? What will I say to Blanche now? My journey still comes to and end. Whom shall I take to her now that I know the truth of his absence? So devoted was his love for her, that he was taken by the very hands of Almighty to himself. Hain Bhagwan! Why showing injustice to that poor woman who awaits his return? I took all those letters and the diary with me to keep with myself. 

Note: My friend and colleague Kush Mukherjee wrote the letter to Ms. Blanche