With Love, Christina!

At last on that day, you will get celebrity like treatment. Everybody will look up to you. They will take photo with you. And most importantly, you will be spending your many year’s spending at one go. 

Yes of course, on your wedding day!

“Mama, I don’t want to get married. My bank balance is just Rs 10,000”

I didn’t have to think much to say that. There wasn’t any better reason not to get married. Mama almost laughed as I told this. Its said that, women don’t like revealing their age and men their bank balance. Mama didn’t expect me being open about it. But she swallowed laugh, not to hurt her son’s ego.

“So what is your plan?. Who is going to carry your legacy?”

Mom skillfully put the question before me. Every mom knows the art of framing perfect sentence, to push their children forward. They don’t let you relax after making a statement. They will always make you think ahead.

“I mean..I don’t want to invest big amount on my wedding. Just exchanging a garland and register marraging would be enough. Infact that would be awesome……Then we will have Biriyani from nearby hotel. I would rather donate that saved amount to cancer treatment hospital……..or some thing like that.” 

Mama didn't say anything. There was pause for a moment.

Then I said “Howz the idea, mama?”

That’s the toughest idea any Indian mom could accept. There was a mild shock in her face. Responsibility towards society is fine. But she would also have to answer all neighbors and relative’s questions. They are also part of society.

“Why there wasn’t any marriage ceremony?.”

“ We want to see the bride officially!” etc. All the questions for which she would struggle to answer, just like ministers, when they address press after a scam. Only difference would be they can’t ask for her resignation.

Although I wish she could answer them like this,

“Get lost! You people mind your own business…..”

“ Go have your own life!. Please let us alone”

“Oh!. Papa will come now. I have to prepare food for him…. In the mean while you go get your garland ready”, she said.

There was a beautiful smile on her face when she said that. She tactfully escaped from conversation. I had an awkward expression as reaction. She giggled and walked towards kitchen. I stood there watching her. Its very hard to match her coolness. She has a terrific sense of humor and wisdom. Some times feel mothers are angels sent down by God to look after us. Otherwise how could they have such amazing wisdom to carry the civilization forward, considering only a limited exposure they get from outside world.

All that world give them is troubles. They have been bearing us even before we were born!. And for all the care she took of us in her womb, all we give back is blame for all our mistakes.

“I don’t want that poor dress”

“Where is my shoes?”

“Today I don’t want rice!”

Natural state of motherhood is sacrifice and unconditional love. They would silently listen to our arguments and commands.

“How was your day?”

At the end of day, they would come and ask.

Mom might be still thinking on what ever I told her earlier. I slowly peeped in to kitchen. Mom was cutting vegetables.

“Oh I wished, if there was some one to help you”

Mom looked at me hearing my voice. I gave a faded smile, as I moved forward to sit on table across her.

“Why sir?”, she said as she continued her work.

“Am I not doing the job well?. That you have to appoint additional labour?”. She looked at me. I didn’t look at her. As I told earlier, its very difficult to match with her sense of humor.

“No additional labour required. I will help you”. Better stop talking and start doing.

I jumped down from table and leaned on kitchen table to take another knife. Mom looked at me. I didn’t look at her face. I took one of the Onion in my hands to chop it. Mom was still staring at me. I didn’t bother to face her.

“Hello looser!”, she called me teasingly. That made me laugh. I looked at her.

“Sir you do your job, I will do my job”, she said in her funny requesting tone. It was a cute expression on her face. She smiled beautifully. I looked at her like joker. I left the knife back. It gave me pleasure to be a joker, when I could bring smile on her face like that. I kissed on her cheeks. she accepted my love, like a mother bird taking her child under her wings. I was the small bird, still seeking little pillow to put heads down. There is no better meditation than spending time with your innocent mother. You don't have to go to 

mountain to meditate or become a yoga. All needed is to take a nap on your mother's lap.

“Go!. Let me make curry.….Am coming…..”

“… Want to talk to you!”, she said

“Ok Mama!”, I said. ‘Mama’ is the most compassionate word that comes to your lips.

I walked to the guest room. TV was on. I sat on the sofa wondering what she would want to talk to me. It could be something like.

“After certain stage of life, you will feel, there is a boundary for every relationship. You will need someone for ever, to share your life!”

My mobile phone pinged. I checked the unread message in my Inbox.

“I Love you.

Miss you,

Yours Loving,

Christina”

Women are beautiful, no matter from where they came from. Weather from Adam's rib or Mars or Venus. They make our life beautiful. How they love and miss us. As some one said, behind every successful man there will be a women. Infact you are double blessed, if it is two women. Do not misunderstand!. I meant mother and wife.

But wife is not a easy choice to make. You can’t find women of your life, just like go shopping a sandals or phone. Once brought we can't return it as well. Wives come without warranty, unlike products. We have to be 100 percent precise.

There is a famous quote from Robert frost, “A mother takes 20 years to make Man of her boy and another women make fool of him in twenty minutes!”

Of course its nice to have a girl friend like Christina. But when it come to wife, you prefer homely, traditional girl that your parents select for you. Its like looking for spicy chilly chicken, when we go outside and at home preferring traditional coconut mixed chicken curry!. Men will be Men, as said in some deodorant Ad.

Oh! God!. Just imagine my parent’s reaction, when I tell them that, I am marrying Christina. Imagine Christina kissing me in front of mom. That thought itself sent shiver down my spine. I don’t have guts to tell them. It will be better to break Christina’s heart than mom’s heart. As per Robert Frost’s quote, It will take life time for mom to recover from that shock. Christina will be ‘ok’ after twenty minutes!.

Well, jokes apart, Where is my sweet Mom?. She would have framed perfect sentence to tell me, by now. There was a silence in kitchen. All the chance, that she would come any minute. It was time to take the next step. As usual, turning points of our life happens in an unexpected moment. I didn’t knew my moment was waiting around the corner.

As all I did was to keep Christina’s photo along with my wallet on table. And quickly moved to next room, to watch my mom’s reaction. It was time to display my sense of humor to mama. Time to match her wisdom. Photo was kept in such a way that it would attract my mom’s attention straight away.

She came from kitchen. There was a tired expression on her face. Ofcourse that expression will change as she come across her daughter in law’s smiling face. She took the photo in her hands.

On the photo caption was “With Love, Christina”

Quit India

When Sachin Tendulkar walks in, people switch on their T.V and switch off life. In 90's when India had nothing to look up to the world, Sachin Tendulkar would walk onto the crease and smash bowlers all over the ground and keep the Indian spirits high. As India steadied its economy by liberalising in late 90's and then later went on to become an emerging economic power, Sachin had piled up tons of runs and records. Thus cricket and India are interrelated. 

Cricket to India, is what Burger is to America and cheap technology is to China. Cricket pumps passion and patriotism in the country. But as far as I am concerned, Indian patriotism is not merely waving national flag while watching a cricket match. We have a rich Indian heritage to look up to. We are the one of oldest civilizations in the world. We still continue to be the centre stage of world spirituality.

But off late it has not been happy days for our country. We have witnessed greatest economic slowdown since 1980's. After the British looted our country and left, Indian politicians made sure that Indian wealth doesn’t get looted like that again. Hence they slowly saved bulk of this wealth as currency in their foreign bank accounts.

All we could do was fold arms, take a back seat and watch all that was happening. But there was occasional spark when people like Arvind Kejriwal stood up and fought all odds. He broke the conventional concept of VIP politics. He gave up minister bungalows and moved out without high profile securities. For the first time a journalist fried all politicians live on T.V, saying nation demanded the answer. Arnab Goswami shouted like his own sister was raped, when the national outbreak happened post Delhi gang rape case. For first time a politician and journalist sounded like one among us.

That was when I had to meet my NRI cousin from Britain, who was never one among us. We were going home after receiving him from the airport. He had settled in U.K along with Uncle and Aunt long back. He had come for summer vacations. Although we had good childhood memories, we don't share any nostalgic moments anymore. All I expected from his company was silence. 

But he started as soon as the Car was on move. Somebody just escaped from being hit by our car. In India being almost hit by a vehicle, is one of your daily routine like brushing teeth, bathing etc.

"Holy crap mahn! ", He said. "Holy crap" is the English word that all NRIs use to react to anything in India. 'WTF' has become so common in India, that even fisherman use it.

"I guess here people walk on road and vehicles on gutters". He said.

"Infact NASA scientist could practice their space vehicle launch on Indian Roads before going on moon. It would add lot of experience. "

That was the first goal he hit. But then I am not the person to answer all this. Our Great leader Gandhiji taught us non-violent movements. He observed civil Disobedience movement before launching Quit India movement and making British leave India. So I didn't say anything. I peacefully concentrated on my driving.

And after all NRIs are total different breeds. In fact they are a bunch of confused individuals who have no country of their own, a person who doesn't understand the importance of taking pride in one’s rich heritage. If at all anything interests them about the country, it is the depreciating value of the Indian rupee, during their foreign money exchanges.

That was when our car passed a guy peeing on the road side. Its not that we don't have enough toilets in India. But we are big time nature lovers. For everything we do, we try to integrate nature in to it.

“The National Geographic calls this country a heaven on earth. Holy crap!..Rope tricks, sadhus, cobras, people lying and peeing on roadsides. Does all these happen in Heaven?!. It doesn't make sense at all”, He said.

Everything in India irritates NRIs. They are highly crictical of the way we walk, pee, shit, literally anything.

This time I responded. “See no country is perfect. If Britain was so perfect, then why did they loot our wealth and take it to Britain?”

He didn't bother to respond. He sat like he heard nothing. I wanted to say him more but then for the sake of great Gandhiji, I did't say him anything. Gandhiji taught us to love even our enemy. I have to love him for another four hours. Its a long journey ahead.

“Brother, can I have a page”, He said as I was reading the newspaper. We were sitting in a coffee shop to take a break from the long drive. I felt hesitant to give him, as the paper was completely filled with materials to boost his sarcasm. The first page had 400 crore scam, I turned to regional page. Although not huge, they were competing with national scam. A 20 crore scam! Turned to sports page, “India lost to Bangladesh!” I gave him page-3, the entertainment news. Afteral Bollywood is accepted all over the world.

But still trouble couldn't be avoided. Headline was “Why is Salman Khan not getting married?”

“Why are Indians obsessed about Salman Khan's sex life?” He said. “All they wanted is to get married and breed like pigs everywhere. Look at the population, real pigs!”

I stood up from the table. He looked at me, wondering what I was going to do. There is a limit for everything. It was time for the next Gandhian mode, “Quit India”. I just walked out of the cafe. Didn't bother to even listen, what he was saying from behind. Car started, Soon I was on the move, leaving him behind.

“Quit my car at least!!”

Happy Journey

It was a Monday, a terrible day!. Sun was smiling in the sky. What else it has to do?. I mean it just have to show up in the early morning and go back by evening. That's a routine job, some thing like watch Man Job. Nothing creative to do. Ohh! It almost killed me with its monstrous rays. Thank! God that Mr.Jabar died. I could rest in a bus shed built in memory of late Mr.Jabar. If at all not to pay a tribute to Mr.Jabar, the Bus shelter wouldn't have been built. It was not a bus shed but a cow shed. Even a cow would refuse to put dung in it. The roof of the shed was floating in air.

I was so worried. It was getting late like hell. A man was standing nearby. I asked him the time. He was very happy to help me and answered " Don’t worry sir, you will get it from a watch". For a minute there was silence. WTF! Man. I was like “Did you really say that?. You must be some guy who escaped from mental hospital. Get cured soon, brother”.

"Thank you very much", That's all I said. He said "Its ok, I love helping people". He then started talking about himself and never stopped. Poor guy he didn't know that he was a fool."

After an hour of waiting, the bus came. It looked like a municipality waste basket. It had whole China in it. It was too crowded. People were hanging from all sides. To my surprise, lots of people rushed in to the bus. Now, from where all these people came. I didn't see them few minutes back. Did they fall from sky just now?. These people have really made me angry, that an egg omelet could have been easily made on my burning head. I have no other option. It was getting late.

After going through the necessary evil of wrestling, I was able to get in to the bus; actually only a part of my leg, to be precise five fingers. Bus started moving and my balance too was moved. A moment of loss of balance would have resulted in my head crushed in to five chicken biriyani pieces under the tyre. I was not sure whether I will get bus ticket or ticket to hell. I love hell!. All my dear folks will be there. We would jazz party there. And if heaven was at neighborhood, Imagine Gandhiji coming out from heaven and shouting at us to keep the volume down!. “Hahah!!”. I couldn't stop laughing. People looked at me strange.

After few kilometers of travel their came a relief. Bus came to an halt. Could relax for some time. A policeman had stopped the bus. Driver presented before him all the documents. The policeman found a missing paper among document. Next moment we saw the policemen slapping the driver. The hit was so hard that the driver would have forgot his father's name. Thats só harsh. I hated these corrupt rascals. Wanted to do something. But as always in India, kept quiet.

Driver placed 500.RS among the documents and the policeman got the missing paper. I remember clearly that policemen also had entered the bus. The bus started moving again. The condition of bus was miserable with lots of wear and tear. It wanted to be like a racing car but she got to accept the truth that even when bull carts of state had a gear, state bus remained the same. Who is responsible for her pity condition?. Is it her mother, the state government?. Am not sure about her father, whether it is state transport corporation or private corporation.

In a flash of second I saw an empty seat in the front and I flied. I placed my bums towards seat and found myself sitting on someone's lap. Now Where the hell this person came from?. He had infiltrated in to my seat like Pakistani soldiers did in kargil. I felt like like a hurted Indian army. I wanted to kill him with AK-47 rifle. Blood pumped high inside me as if fitted to a motor and felt like it would soon overflow out of head. My elbow rose with out my permission to hit him behind me. Every thing looked blurred and in flash of second I had given mighty blow on his face. I quickly turned back to see him and I was stunned. I was thrown out of the bus by the policeman. He came near me, covering his bleeding nose.