Category: Scribble

The bike kept on moving with constant, monotonous speed. The journey was enveloped in an unnatural silence. “Do you think we really helped him?” Ashu asked me, while breaking it, as we rode in the darkness, back to his house. It was followed by a momentary silence again, because I could not decide what answer would make proper sense. To me, or to him. It wasn’t something which could be answered in a simple yes or no.
So I decided to reply what I felt was required for us to believe.

“I hope we did.”

—X—

Those were the last days I spent in Bhopal. Everybody was busy then. It was funny because everyone was busy doing nothing. That happens when you don’t know what to do with your life, and you make the decision of initiating a search to find the answer to it. Finally, resulting in spending some more time doing nothing.

At the end of the engineering, everyone was on the same boat. With college ending, we didn’t had an excuse any longer, to hang around with each other all day long. And the excuses were not needed for parents, or for anybody else in that matter. Those were needed by us. We couldn’t justify it to ourselves why we were spending days like these. But, old habits die hard. It wasn’t possible for the habits, religiously cultivated for 4 years, to suddenly wither down.

It was around that time of the evening, when the sun had set, but the sky still had the fading glow seeping out. The routine of going to Ashu’s house was being conducted, which comprised of an important discussion, regarding life and 100 ways to kill time.

While he took a left from the New Market Road towards MANIT, I obliged to do my duty as the pillion rider, i.e. scanning around to see any police check post. The penalty on not using helmet was pretty strict.

That’s when I saw him.

A man in suit, standing a few meters away from a car parked by roadside, waving his hands vigorously and asking people to stop.
Was there an accident? The car looked fine, though quite worn out.
Maybe a medical emergency! But the man looked normal and the car was empty. Moreover, isn’t it the hobby of our countrymen to gather around pretty fast during such occasions? But maybe it was his gender that gave him slower response time.

We went past him as I turned my head towards his car to see the make, and I saw him looking and waving at my direction. Ashu didn’t seem to notice him.

“Did you see that guy?” I asked Ashu while still trying to decide if he waved at me.
“Not Actually. Why, what happened?”
“I think he was signalling us to stop. Maybe needs help or something.”
“Who?” Ashu asked, and the bike started slowing down as he took a glance over his shoulder to get a glimpse of that man who was left quite behind by then.
“That man, who was standing by the car. Did you see him?”
“Yeah.. I think I did spot him. Should we go?”
The bike was completely at halt now.
“Let’s see at least.”

We rode back to him as he stood there, looking at us with a relieved expression on his face.

On a closer look, the man looked a bit shabby with the unkempt beard, and was averagely dressed. As soon as we stopped our bike near the parked car, the man came hurriedly towards us and started thanking us for coming to his rescue.

“Thank God that you guys stopped! I’ve been standing here for a while now but nobody responded to me. Its hard to find sincere people these days! Thank you guys! May I know your names?”

It took some seconds before Ashu responded to this sudden downpour.

“Umm.. yeah. This is Abhinav and I am Ashu.”
“Thanks a lot Ashu and you too Abhinav for helping me. My name is Brij Yadav and I am an industrialist. I have a factory down at Indrapuri which manufactures matchstick.”

“Indrapuri? Abhinav lives there.”
Ashu nudged me as I have been just a mute participant in the conversation till then.

“Where in Indrapuri?”
“It’s in the industrial segment of Indrapuri, just 2-3 blocks away after the residential area ends.” He answered immediately.
” Actually, my car seems to be out of fuel, and I’ve left my wallet and cellphone at the office itself. Could you please help me?”

That was the tricky part.

Helping just an unknown person is easier, as compared to helping an unknown person, whom can’t be verified for his identification. It’s so easy to get duped these days. There are people who cook up stories what not to get the better of you. Ashu looked at me for any response, then asked him.
“How can we help you?”
“Umm.. If you could let me borrow Rs. 200, so that I can get petrol to go back to my office and get my wallet and mobile. That would help me a great deal!”

When strangers ask you for money in such a fashion, they usually intend to make a fool out of you. But this guy, even though looked a bit shabby, spoke good English and had good manners, how to confirm if he was genuine?

“So your office is in the factory itself?”
I asked, and his eyes turned to me now.
“Yes! I was just on my way home before this happened”
“And where do you live?”
“My house is in Kohefiza. Near Yamaha showroom. Usually I am out of town. I just came back yesterday.”
This reply raised a red flag in my “already on alert mode” brain.
“OK! That colony is pretty well developed. But you took the wrong route to go home.”
“This road goes straight to XYZ right?”
“Yes, but you could have directly taken the route via Ashoka Garden to reach VIP road. This route is just the double of it.”
If this guy is true, why didn’t he take the shortest possible way to his place via the city? My mind started racing while trying to judge him if he’s lying about it all and making things up as they go.
“But that route has heavy traffic usually at this time right? I try to avoid it.”
He answered with a smile.

Oops! He’s right. That didn’t go anywhere.

The sky was getting darker and Ashu took his mobile phone out to check time. This gave me an idea.
“Is there some one in the factory you can call? They might be able to bring your things to you!”
I forwarded my phone to him.
He hesitated for a second and replied.
“I don’t remember their number as I have them in my mobile itself. Moreover, it’s almost time for their shift to get over. They might have already left.”
Ashu had understood my hesitation by then. He came forward again and suggested.
“We were going to get the petrol filled in our bike anyways. You just wait for 5 minutes and we will bring you petrol here itself.”
“Oh please! You don’t need to put that much efforts! I will go by myself.”
He hesitated.
“Don’t worry! We were supposed to go there anyhow. This would be nothing additional.”
I assured him and left with Ashu on the bike while he repeated his requests to let him get it for himself and not waste our time for him.

—X—

As we rode towards petrol pump, mere 800 meters away, Ashu raised his concern.
“Are we doing this?”
“I don’t know. If we give him petrol in the bottle and see to it that he puts it in the tank, that can at least assure that we were not cheated for money.”
“On the other hand he might really be in need.”
“Hmm.. Might be.”
“You still asked a lot for Rs. 200” smirked Ashu.
“Well, I would hate to be fooled while trying to help someone. That would be robbing a genuinely in need person off a possible aid in future, just due to bad experience.”
“Not up to us, is it? Its either don’t help Brij, or pray that if he’s not being honest, we shouldn’t ever come to know.” said Ashu as he started the bike again.
The conclusion led us to fill a 2 liter bottle of petrol and ride back to Brij.

—X—

There he stood in front of his car, gloating. We saw him pouring down every last drop from the bottle in the tank. The bottle was empty, the tank was full, he was all set to go.

“Thanks a lot guys! You saved me. Please give me your numbers, I’ll definitely pay it back to you!” Brij promised, while taking out a pen in his hand to write them down. Before Ashu could utter a word, I blurted out, “94xxxxxxxx.” He scribbled something on his hand and nodded in confirmation that the number was safe with him to be used at his disposal.

“Thanks again for helping a complete stranger out in need. Will contact you soon!” Brij repeated these words, as he adjusted himself in the driving seat and turned the ignition on. The car was now roaring perfectly, good to go. As soon as the car turned distant to the eyes, what should have been a liberating feeling for the heart, turned into a sinking one. I looked at Ashu to know if the feeling is mutual. His face was perplexed and unsure of what just happened. So, none of us was satisfied.

“Should we have checked the fuel in his car earlier?” Ashu asked without shifting his gaze from the direction in which car went invisible now. “Or maybe should have taken his address.”
I knew what he was going through exactly. “We do have his office address. He lives near to my place right? Relax, he’ll give the Rs. 200 back.” I teased him and moved on to the bike. “Now let’s go home before your father’s name start flashing on your phone. We don’t have college projects anymore to save you.”
He smiled and started the bike, and we rode back to his house in a constant, monotonous speed.

—X—

It’s been almost 3 years now. That phone never came. We never got our money back. We never visited the address or tried googling and searching the person on Facebook. (His actual name is not Brij Yadav.. Duh!)
My message from this story is not that any person who asks for your help out there is a liar, scam artist, or is to loot you. Neither it is the fact that you might turn out to be the biggest fool, getting duped like that, or in someway or the other when you think you are looking out for someone.
The takeaway is something which views this incident in retrospect. That sometimes, no matter how good your intentions are, you end up being let down. However it happens only sometimes. And if you end up helping even one person in need, you redeem yourself for hundreds of such let downs. So, be empathetic, but don’t keep the wits at bay.

I am still amused as I write this piece. Even though, many a times, a song is what sets the mood, or pushes the conscience over the emotional brink. But I never thought I would write something purely about a song itself.

Is it that powerful?

I can’t decide for anybody else. But it sure touched me in a surreal way.

The backdrop of the song is pretty devastating. This has been an opening song to the anime I was watching – Tokyo Ghoul (Season 2). The story of this anime goes on the lines of the existence of the Ghouls and Humans in the same world, where both look almost similar (different eyes and a special internal body organ for ghouls), yet one feeds on another. How the protagonist, who was a normal human, turns out to be the hybrid between ghoul and human, due to an organ transplant from other species. How a human being turns out to be the one eating humans. How the ghouls are doing nothing wrong by living the way nature has made them to be. How this protagonist is the link between these two different worlds existing on the same. This heavy burden and identity crisis strays the protagonist several times, always looming on the edge of the extremes.

And there enters this song, which perfectly voices the protagonist in the way he never could. The song is rock metal in genre. The lyrics are in Japanese. I never understood a single word of it. But the sound of it always felt, true. Maybe it’s the way music works.

I believe many won’t go through this anime in this lifetime. Still, *SPOILER ALERT*

The ending scene of this season, was backed by the piano version of the song. It showed the protagonist carrying a body covered entirely, walking through the snow in the battlefield which just witnessed an attack on ghouls by humans. He was there to protect those ghouls. The body belongs to his childhood friend, human, who knew his identity and still chose to believe in him. Even after now being his best friend’s food.

Casualty of the war.

Throughout this entire song, he walks through the battlefield, while changing his appearance between human and ghoul, trying to represent the inner turmoil. Captured by the song in absolute awe.

It compelled me to search the lyrics in English. I was amazed to see the number of covers this song had and the views it boasts. They did an English version too.

So, I am sharing both the videos of original and the English cover as well. Because that’s the thing about songs, you never know what they could trigger in you without listening to them.

PIANO VERSION; ENGLISH VERSION

 

 

Alice went down the rabbit hole. And everything changed. The world she thought she was from, was a mirage. The world how it actually existed, was strange. I don’t know if I could have summed up the transition from childhood to adult world in a better way. The inner child we all carry, what happens to it? We don’t hide it in the locker or banish it forever. We don’t kill it or bury it alive. We do worse. We expose it to this world. We make it see things which can’t be unseen. The truth which didn’t exist in their world.

Practicality.

I wondered why we use the word – child, in a rather negative connotation. As in the word – childish. The dictionary meaning of the word is – childlike, appropriate to child. But the used meaning refers to the other face of this word, which is – immature, silly. Have we described child as silly and immature just because they don’t adhere to the practicality of adult world? I thought innocence would define childlike better. But the truth, is that innocence itself is being identified by words like silly and immature, making child, an apt model for it.

I know this sounds a bit strange as why this sudden ranting over inner child, or lost childhood. Everybody has suffered the same loss at some point in their lives.

Pardon. Most of..

The reason would be, that this practicality required to sustain in this adult world comes at a heavy prize, at the sacrifice of your inner child. More limbs you tear off of it, more practicality you gain. And this could only be called an irony, that the most practical people are those who refused to shred their inner child into pieces. Rather decided to give it a quick death, as painless as possible.

Mind you. It is not the negativity towards adult world, which is empowering these words. But the burning question behind this forced trade-off, which has now turned out to be the toll at the gateway to adult world. This forced loss of innocence.

Maybe a food for thought?

Dear IB Shining,

This is surely funny. I didn’t know that I would ever be accepting this but, this has been a phenomenal ride. The class which started as a bunch of misfits. A crowd of strangers with their singular dreams. Turning into a family with the interwoven dreams of togetherness and mutual prosperity. I didn’t even realize when we got to this point. When the song “Pal” played, it just struck my mind. It’s over. The fights over who would do the assignments in the group. Who would make the presentation. Who would face the faculty for asking extension. Be it the mobile help during the mid terms, or the roulette of luck during the OLTs. It all has come to a halt. Which won’t be rolled ever again. We will assemble one last time, in full strength, to appear for the last exam of our BIMTECH life.

And it sucks.

The moment we came close enough, where we started accepting each other with open hearts with their faults and flaws as it is, the separation happened. I don’t know whether to call it a misfortune or just mark it as the true nature of life. But the reality is staring right at our faces.

I’ll be honest. I don’t see many people eye to eye, as far as their viewpoint is concerned. And same is true for me too. Many people would never agree to the way I see the world. But when has that stopped us from coming together and forming a bond forged in steel? And this bond is not limited to the students like ourselves. The IB department, including our coordinators, have proved to provide us a home away from home. We may curse them, get frustrated with them at many instances, but this truth cannot be ignored nor defied.

We all had our moments of togetherness. Be it our clusters, our roommates, our groupmates, or the class as whole. Be it the moment when Puru fought against the senior during the Badminton finals, or when IB cricket team battled against all departments to reinforce their supremacy. When we shouted out name, echoing it to the depth of the ears of each individual around, marking our presence during every single function, or setting example as how a united entity functions.

To everyone associated with the IB family of batch 2014-16, I would just like to tell you from the bottom of my heart, how obliged, happy and lucky I have been to spend these two years being with you, learning, evolving and living life. I will remember you all as you have touched my life in such a way that it’s hard to forget. I hope I was able to leave my impression in your’s too.

Praying for the success and accomplishments of each individual belonging to batch 2014-16 of IB.

Signing off,
Abhinav Singh Rawat
(14IB305)

It had been a while, since Subodh moved in to the new city and the new apartment, but still, the suspicion and curiosity of the neighbors seemed, unquenchable. The irritation those pesky neighbors had caused him, had really no limits. As he moved to the door of his apartment around midnight, he felt a few pairs of eye piercing his back.

“Come on guys get a life!” blurted out of his mouth, while opening the door.

It was almost Wednesday and due to his Tuesday fasts, hunger was killing him. The welcome committee included stale air, scattered daily journals and thick layers of dust deposited everywhere. Even in the pitch black darkness, his hands automatically reached for the switchboard, just to the left of the entrance. It merely caused a fruitless flicker of the tube-light at the other end of the hall, which eventually died.

Those few final flashes of light were enough to see the path to the kitchen, in midst of newspapers and magazines lying on the floor, unattended for about 2 and a half weeks this time. The kitchen was pretty empty. And so was the refrigerator, except a few, completely dehydrated slices of bread, an almost finished can of jam and a few rotten eggs.

Hygiene and guys gel with each other but just in the rarest of cases, naturally. Anyone sensing the conditions around the apartment could have easily figured it out that the guy living in this house was an actual nomad.

Hungry as he was, he literally pounced up on the can of the mixed fruit jam. That’s when it caught his eye.

Among the heaped printed rubbish all over the floor, he was able to point out a postcard. A white postcard, without any other thing written on it except the address. He picked it up and turned it around. It had a cartoon sketched in black on it.

There was no doubt! He could have identified it anywhere! But what in the world was it doing on that blank postcard?

The sketch was of a boy with messy hair, looking at the heavens above, a silly grin drawn on its face and a t-shirt with ‘B’ scribbled on it.

Hardly believing what was in front of his eyes, he scanned it from top to bottom. He wasn’t mistaken. After-all he was the one who first drew it. It was Subodh’s signature sketch. His symbol.

With his eyes fixed on the postcard his mind wandered off in the past where suddenly a conversation echoed across his head.

“From today onward, we’ll call it ‘shani maharaj’. If you don’t like it, then better start searching a good name with this good brain of yours.”

“What about.. Buddhijeevi??”

“That’s the name we gave you. You won’t get rid of it that easily!”

“Like ever I could with the likes of you! But its like a cool name for a cartoon character.”

“Chal theek hai. Have it your way then. Its buddhi ka buddhijeevi.”

“buddhijeevi..” he slowly muttered as he recalled it and the voice inside his head died.
Suddenly, a wide grin, same as of that ‘buddhijeevi’ floated across Subodh’s face.

“Am I dreaming or what???”

Nodding his head in disbelief again and again, he reached for his cell phone in the pocket. While flipping through the list of contacts in the phone-book, the screen flashed the name he was looking for.

Anshul Jain 7.4

“He wouldn’t be keeping that old number till now?” He paced down the hall, staring at the mobile screen for a few minutes.
“But what if he did? No harm in trying.”

It rang!

“What would I say if the call is answered?? What if I have saved the wrong number??” As soon as these questions were shot in his brain, a sweet female voice on the other end of the line made him panic a bit more.

“Hello.” answered the ‘sweet female voice’.

“Anshul Jain??”

“Wait a sec..”

And after a few muffled voices of changing hands by phone, a very familiar voice ringed Subodh’s ear.

“Anshul speaking.”

“You were the last person I ever expected to use number portability service. You always wanted to get rid of your number just because you got bored of keeping same number.” I remarked.

“Some habits are borrowed from people close to you as a reminder of them. I think you borrowed mine too.” Anshul shot back.

“Does it matter? I contacted you didn’t I? And who was that chick anyway? Picking up your private number? Pretty close to you I guess?”

“Dog!! You can never change! You call me after 5 years and start questioning me like my dad? Didn’t you call me because of the postcard?”

“So you indeed were behind it. Yup, I got it. But..”

“Sending an invitation card to you felt weird. It’s like sending it to my.. mom!! It’s an informal invitation” interrupted Anshul.

“Invitation for what??”

“My wedding dumb-ass.. I am getting married. So you better move your lazy ass here asap.”

“Marrying??? When?? With whom??”

“Again questions. Like in hell you’ll ever change. It’s a long story. I’ll be waiting for you. By the way, the marriage is this Thursday.” and he cut the call.

Now that’s what you call ‘surprise’. Anshul was getting married in just 2 days, which has shortened to 1 day just a few moments ago, and I had to reach there, as he told me, asap. I checked out time again. It was 12:10 of midnight, which meant Wednesday already started. I took my already packed bag and left my apartment once again. As soon as I entered my car my cell phone rang.

“So beta, how was your trip this time?” It was Maa.

“What do you say if I tell you about it during tomorrow’s breakfast? But I’ll have omelets and parathas.”

“What do you mean?”

“I am coming home Maa.”

“Where is my bachelor party?? You do this to me just a day before my wedding day?? How dare you ruin the last few hours of my freedom like this?? I mean, just look at this. Why the hell am I having just a beer and the good thing is with you? And what happened to my bachelor party anyways??”

“Okkk.. This confirms that the damage has been done. I think beer was pretty much ok choice for your first and probably last drink.”

“But my bachelor party…”

“Shh.. You should be delighted that I made it in time for your wedding, let alone crying out loud for a party for just two of us. Finish your beer up. And you mister, made the decision of tying knot. So stop being a wuss. By the way, when are you going to tell me how you proposed?”

“You see I had this whole thing planned! There was this great…”

“I didn’t mean her. Her family. Her Mausi.”

It was pretty scary. But that was all left to do! I confronted her family and confirmed their suspicion. There was some tension in the air and to make the matter worse, her mausi showed up.

“Seriously??”

“Yeah! Sometimes I wonder if she even has her own house or is just a freeloader.”

“A pretty commanding one at that!”

“You bet. But suddenly she was the sweet mausi who supported us!”

“You are kidding??”

“Nope! It is all thanks to her that this wedding is going so smoothly.”

“What happened to that Jurassic mentality and orthodox stuff and all??”

“Don’t know! Whatever that was, worked in our favor right. Why the hell is this bottle not empty yet?”

“You have to drink it all for it to be empty. It’s not magic. You were the one who wanted to do this in the first place.”

“Yeah, but like 5 years ago! Not just a day before..”

“Ya ya… Your wedding day. I know. Still, you got what you want, right?”

“Hmm… But you couldn’t fulfill your dream of helping us elope.”

“Aah… Yeah! But the purpose is being served. I am happy!”

“But why were you so ready for us to have a runaway marriage?”

“Well, I just wanted to make sure that my two closest friends have a fairy tale ending.”

“And yet you went away.”

“Come on! It wasn’t forever.”

“You made us think it was.”

“Even I believed it for a while.”