At the Helm of Crossroads!

The mornings of Chandigarh are better than of any other Indian city I have ever known. All odes to its architect Le Corbusier whose planning ensured that the rapid industrialization does not hamper the reds and greens of residential areas.A good reason of my morning exercises and my walk through the park in my sector. The only part of the day when you feel like being in laps of the Mother Nature.But,nothing would have been more rejuvenating had not i walked into her on that day!

 My jogging partner Mr. Ramandeep stopped for a while and pointed towards a couple,
'O Sadde naal Survey daftar ch kaam karde ne!'
(He is my colleague from the regional Survey office)
'Hor, O unandi missej!'
(And that is his wife)
'Chaloji! tuhada inroduction karanda hoon'
(Come! let me introduce you to them)
'Halle hi shift kitta hai, saddi gali ch'
(They have recently shifted to our lane)
I felt goosebumps while going near her. Does she remember me after all these years? All the blast from my past started reverberating in my mind.

' Oh! so you are the columnist of a popular daily. It is a pleasure meeting you!', her husband exclaimed, to which she gave affirmative gestures. I wasn't exactly looking at her but my mind was completely conscious of her presence.I wondered if she could recognize me majorly because a lot had changed in me since then. I have grown a beard, have longer hairs, wear spectacles and gained a little weight. She was pretty much the same plump girl she used to be except her boy-cut hairdo and her age showing through the lines on her face and around her eyes.
Anyways, she left along with her husband after a while without batting an eyelid which only left my mind restless. I went straight back to my home moving towards the store room in the backyard to search for my old belongings.
'Where had you kept my school stuff mother?', i asked the moment i heard her preparing tea in the kitchen.
'That day i took an off from work only to ransack my house for memories of the year 1986!

Carefully wiping out the dust, i looked at the group photo of the 86 batch of my school. Felt like wiping the years away pushing myself back to my teens when i was just an average charming 12th standard pass out!


Even a single picture can sometimes tell you numerous stories. Every moment seemed to return in a flash. Nostalgia was too small a word to express the impact it was having on my mind. My past slowly began overpowering me by laying a cold sheath upon myself. All this was surreal!

The students popped out of the picture screaming and running towards the playground as i found myself running along with them. There was a lot of screaming and yelling. We were overjoyed and we had all the reason in the world to be. The final exams would start in March and it was our last day of study at school. We will join again only after few more days for the farewell party. The day was 18 February, 1986.

'No way, Jaggi! This is stupidity, moreover i don't think she will accept this!', said Govind as others looked at him with curious faces.
'Oh! stop it you coward! You never had the guts to propose Supriya, now you don't start discouraging him as well!' interrupted Gurinder.
'You just go ahead man! We are with you, after all its just a matter of few hours, you are not taking her away for your whole life!', he continued.
Though in my heart, i seriously wished if i could and why not? After all she happened to be my first crush. 
' I can even get you my brother's bullet! Punjabi girls love it, she will never refuse its ride', he added.

                   I just couldn't get my eyes off her when she stepped in the school premises along with other girls. She looked incredibly stunning in a bluish-white sari so much that she became my absolute center of attraction on our big day. It also happened to be the first time in our school life that i got to see her without  braids, her open hairs which only added to her beauty.

'Don't worry Jaggi, everything is ready! Supriya will tell the teachers that Surveen has gone back home as she wasn't feeling well' whispered Govind in my ears while the farewell function was about to commence.

Minutes later...
'Jaggi wants to meet you in person! He is waiting for you at the parking!', Supriya told her in a hushed up tone.
My heart both jumped and thumped the moment i saw her crossing the school gate, reaching towards me. I swiftly kick-started my dad's Priya scooter which i had borrowed for my D-day. I chose it over bullet as the latter's high decibel levels would alarm the teachers and the school authorities.

'Why have you called me here?', she asked. She looked nervous.
'Don't ask! Just sit!', I instructed her while racing the scooter for take off.
Soon we were vrooming  past the Fiats, 800s, ambassadors...and the timeless cycle-rickshaws..clearing one roundabout to another metering closer to the northern sectors carefully away from our residences and our fathers workplaces.

I noticed her through the rear mirror. She was quiet throughout seated with her head down as if she blushed profusely. In order to break the monotony, i applied a quick brake at the sector-17/8 lights. She leapt over me holding my chest tight. She spoke at once.
'Don't drive so rash, Jaggi! What will we answer our parents if we hurt ourselves?'
'Just hold me tight Suvee! I promise this to be the best ride of our lives!'

She withheld her arms in a fit and patted on my back saying, 'Just be quiet and better keep your eyes on the road!'
We were about to reach Sukhna lake when i felt her head resting on my shoulder and her constant breaths alternating with mine.
I looked at the mirror again.
'Her eyes were partially close and a peaceful smile had appeared on her face'

The happiness of achieving everything you wanted in this world!

We sat on the water steps, holding hands while she rested her head again on my shoulders. The waters shone against the noon sun as we looked at the people cycling their boats. Destiny was cycling ours as well. To where, we had no idea!
We spent some more time together later that year. She applied in Arts at Khalsa Girls College while i secured a seat in English Hons. at Punjab University. We remained in touch through our home phones(mobiles and internet were still a decade away) and with the help of our friends. We would bunk lectures and meet up to watch flicks or simply walk around sector 17 market. I still have vague memories of buying first show tickets of the hit movie 'Karma'. But, our favourite was 'Love 86' which happened to be symbolic of our days.
                The days went on until her engagement in the summers of the following year and her marriage in the subsequent autumn and off she went away from my life!  

        Years just lingered on and after finishing the Masters, Jaggi became Mr. Jagmohan Bhatia- a reporter in a regional daily. Times passed, but i couldn't get her out of my mind, so much that i remained single all through these years.
Today apart from my work as a media political analyst, i run a Sunday School where free education is provided to kids from slums and villages. I have teamed up with some young volunteers for this noble cause but with a little self motive hidden in it.

The smiles of these children remind me of the smile on her face! 
Even though i had lost her
but with the love of these kids
I have found a reason to love again!

"Say No to Regionalism!"

Dear Friends

Regionalism is one of the major hindrance to the integrity and prosperity of our country. The word is a political ideology of a region. It represents the blind following of allegiance and favoritism by the inhabitants or natives of a certain region.
                 The practice of regionalism can be good for the people of the respective region but only for a short period. In the long run it is responsible for creating rifts between different regions of the country hampering the unity and integrity of the nation.
Though never considered as evil as its notorious cousins viz. communal-ism and caste-ism, its presence dates back to centuries when India was a land of many regions, religions and castes before the invasion of the British. Starting from northernmost Kashmir then the pahari region( Himachal ), the Jaat land (Haryana), the Jat land of East Punjab (Indian Punjab), the Pathan and Sindhi regions of West Punjab (Pakistan Punjab), the Gujjar, Marwari, Rajput region (Gujarat and Rajasthan), the Maratha region (Maharashtra), the Pandits, the sufis and Garhwali dominant regions(Uttar Pradesh), the tribal regions(Madhya Pradesh and Orissa), the Telangana region( Andhra Pradesh), the Dravidian region (Tamil Nadu), the Kannadigas and Konkani (Karnataka and Goa), the Portuguese influenced regions(Goa), the Bengal region which was divided by the British into East and West Bengal and the powerful princely kingdoms of north-east inclusive of the Meitei, Ahom and Khasi which were among the most notable kingdoms in today's Manipur, Assam and Meghalaya.
These communities favored their region or their kingdom before their annexation and control by the British which paved the way for their unification for a single nation and a common goal of that to throw away the foreign rulers. Region, religion and every other factor which divided the country took a backseat and on the forefront appeared freedom fighters and leaders who became instrumental in attaining freedom for our country. Martyrs like Bhagat Singh and leaders like Gandhi and Bose never professed their religion or favored their regions. They wanted freedom for the whole of India.
                Unfortunately, even today not only in national politics but also in colleges and university elections regional card is widely played. Students vote for a certain party only if it represents their state or has an alliance with a party of their state and not on the basis of student welfare work done by the party. Not just academics, you can also find it in your workplaces where you are favored by your bosses if you belong to his region or state.
The strength of superpowers like USA, UK, Russia, France and China are their people who keep their country above anything else. Leave the first four, we can take the example of our neighbor China. The Chinese are known for their people power and their strong national values.
 In this age of globalization, we must rise above our narrow-mindedness of regionalism and divisive politics which only creates unrest among the youth and all the citizens of our country.

"Lets pledge today that we will not discriminate our fellow countrymen on the basis of caste, religion, region or any other factor which divides us!"

Remember! The great Bhagat Singh gave up his life not only for Punjab but also for the freedom of India.
The youth of today must not let his martyrdom go waste! 

The Solitary Hexagenarian

It was only recently that i came to know about the 8 'O' clock local bus time to sector 17 bus stand from sector-20, where i happened to stay during my first year of graduation in Government College, Chandigarh.
I fastened my pace towards the bus shed at sectors 19/20 point You cant be on time while boarding these local buses.
         Bus stands and bus sheds are a home to many beggars and vagrants in our country with a major chunk of the population still living below poverty line, these public places become a home to the homeless. The bus shed of sector 20 was anything but different.
 Skeletal walls with a long fixed cemented bench aligned along them, the bus shed was quite old almost as old as the sector itself. Adding to its rustic tones was its inhabitant, a hexagenarian man who resided in it since when neither i knew nor anyone else.
Well, just like any early morning commuter getting late for college or work, i was careful not to look at him with a perception that he would ask for alms. Instead, i would steal a look at college girls, the early morning being the only rush hour period at the bus stop. The old man would be awake by then and would look at the by standers and passers by with a stone face. He wore shabby clothes which appeared dark grey in color probably due to discoloration. He also had a blanket which he spread on the cemented seat. His thin frame, greyish white beard and hair loss over his frontal cranium symbolized his frail condition. Initially i assumed him to be a beggar but it turned wrong and to my surprise, i came to know that he was just a solitary man in his sixties. I remember almost every time i boarded the bus , i could see him either sitting or lying down in the bus shed. He was an omnipresent being of that place.

                      Time passed by and with the start of my second year in 2006, i shifted to a sector 15 rented accommodation. But, that didn't deter me from visiting sector 20 as one of my friends resided there.

One evening while returning back from sector 20 it got very late and i feared missing the bus. To add to my woes, my friend left for his hometown the same evening and there wasn't enough moolah in my pockets. The last bus at 8.15 didn't show up and i stood there looking at a distant light point in hope of a bus coming through.
All of a sudden, i heard a shaky voice from behind.
'What's the time? Son!'
I turned around to see that old man. The bus shed was dark and he was fairly visible. I wondered why this man was asking for time! Why would time matter in his life? Anyways his query incited me to inquire about the bus schedule.
'Yes Son! The last bus is at 8.45!'
It was already 8.20 and there was no sign of bus. I had been waiting for the last twenty minutes. Maybe, the driver skipped a route. But, was waiting for another 25 minutes worth it? What if the bus didn't arrive again?
' This old man is not going to drop you!', i lamented myself. There wasn't any other option either. I had to wait or walk all the way back to sector 15.
However, the old man lied down as if he was trying to sleep while i waited looking at every vehicle passing by me. I had almost lost hope of finding another bus and felt like abusing the man for making a fool of me just when my eyes were blinded by the glare of two big lights. That was nothing but the last bus to PGI via sector 15. I was elated and felt gratitude towards the old man. I looked at him before stepping in the bus. He was fast asleep. I just thanked him by heart as the bus gradually sped away.

' The very next month my friend shifted to sector 21 and i stopped visiting sector 20 anymore!'

Around two years later in the cold month of November 2008, i got a shocking news while flipping the pages of a newspaper reporting the death of an old man living in a bus waiting shelter of sector 20. The report added that the man had been living there since a decade. Some early morning walkers found him lying in a suspicious state and alerted the police. He was declared brought dead. Post mortem reports claimed that he died in sleep unable to bear with the prevailing cold weather conditions.

'Even to this day, whenever i pass through the sector 20 bus shed, i could feel something missing'. 'And yes, ever since i could never catch a bus at 8.45 pm!'