88. Hidden

“What were you like when you were a child?” Deepika asks.
Shweta smiles at the question.
“Oh! I was just like you,” she tries to assure her daughter.
Deepika is not satisfied with the answer. She is grown up and not a child. Only last week she has celebrated her fifth birthday.

“But I am so small and you are so old, where was I then?” is Deepika’s next question.
“Oh, just somewhere around,” Shweta is worried where the discussion is leading.
“Was I in the sky, with the stars?” Deepika asks.
Shweta nods.

For a moment, there is a tense silence. Suddenly Deepika’s friends loudly call her for a bicycle ride and she runs away. Shweta is relieved. After every such conversation, Shweta realizes that the time is running out. For how long the truth could be hidden?

Whenever Shweta faces such weird questions from Deepika; she invariably remembers her own childhood. She too used to ask so many questions, not to her mother but to her father. The only difference was: Shweta never asked questions about her past. She had an inner feeling that it was difficult for her father to answer questions about past. Shweta always posed questions about future. “Daddy, what will be I when I grow?” “Baba, which city I will be staying in?” – and all such questions. Grandmother never liked Shweta asking too many questions and tried to restrain Shweta from throwing those. Grandmother always found fault with everything that Shweta did. However Baba always smiled, and appealed grandmother, “it is not her fault, don’t punish her for her innocence’.

As Shweta grew up, from occasional pieces of conversations of her relatives, she could understand few things. But she never was sure about the truth, as some pieces were completely missing. Her father never encouraged the idea of inviting relatives or visiting them. So, such occasions of ‘relative gossip’ were rare.

Shweta did not dare to ask anything to Baba. Grandmother might have told the truth, but she had died without revealing it. Shweta stopped asking questions. Shweta had to do it deliberately. Somewhere she had a feeling that future was not independent of past, they were closely connected. Shweta had experienced that speaking about past was stressful and painful to her father. Shweta stopped asking questions, though she could never stop thinking of those.

Did Shweta miss her mother? Not really. Watching her father, she had realized that she was different from him– not only in looks but even in habits, likings and choices. Was Shweta like her mother? – She did not know. Once she dared to ask this question to Baba, and was struck by his answer “I do not know, baby”. How could he not know? Was he telling a lie? Was he hiding something from her?

Deepika rushes in. Her face is reddish, her eyes are swollen. Tears are flowing down rapidly. She is frightened. She holds Shweta with such a force; that makes Shweta understand Deepika’s feeling of insecurity. “Ma, did you purchase me from the doctor? Roshani says that I am not your daughter. You brought me from somewhere, from someone. Everybody laughed at me and started teasing me. Is it true? And all my friends have Papa, where is mine?”

Shweta is unable to speak. She tries to console the child by patting her, by hugging her, by kissing her. But the child is really angry. Love is not the need of the moment; truth is the need of the moment.

Shweta feels helpless. She does not want to hurt Deepika and she knows that reality is too harsh for Deepika. Shweta wants to protect Deepika but is unable to protect.

Shweta looks at her father who is standing silently in the corner of the room. He is old now, but is still very active. He and Deepika is all that Shweta has. Shweta needs support from her father to console Deepika.

Baba is strangely silent. He is looking at Shweta and Deepika with all tenderness. He wants to say something but is just staring at them. “Baba,” Shweta tries to call him very softly. For a moment Shweta is worried because he is watching them but is not really ‘seeing’ them. He is standing in such a way as if he has some different scene in front of him. He is stressed, he is concerned, he looks worried, he is shaking, and tears drop down. What is father remembering?

“Shweta, my dear child, never bother about what they say. I am here, I love you”, Baba says as if in a trance.
Why is he addressing Shweta instead of Deepika?
Shweta shudders.

Another piece of truth, which was successfully hidden for so many years, is unknowingly revealed at last.

87. Systemaniac

(1)

I enter into a Shopping Mall. While keeping my office bag at the reception counter, I pull out a cotton bag. The security person objects and informs me that I am not allowed to carry anything in the Mall. “I do not want plastic bag that your store gives, so I am using this cotton bag. You can check it. ” I explain as if I am guilty.

“No madam, you can’t take it inside.” He is adamant.
I speak about pollution, Municipal order against carry bags etc. but to no effect.
“I am sorry Madam, but rules are rules. We have strict orders.” The security man says.
Next moment I am out of the Mall.

The Mall it neither bothered about losing customers, nor about pollution; it is worried about its Rules.

(2)

I am staying alone in a Government guest house. I go to the Dining Hall for dinner. As I have late afternoon lunch, I just want a cup of milk. I know that they serve milk in a big glass. So, I specifically order for ‘cup of milk’ and add that I do not want ‘glass of milk’. The waiter comes back within a minute and informs me that menu card does not have ‘cup of milk’. I smile. I have traveled and talked a lot during the day, I am tired. I do not have energy to discuss the issue.

I tell him, “Ok, you charge for a glass of milk but give me only a cup of milk. I do not want to waste milk.” He nods.

He comes back and tells, “No madam, we cannot give you a cup of milk. You will have to take a glass of milk. ”

Why? Rules are Rules.

(3)

“I would really love to kick you out of here,” my reporting officer says coolly.
“Did I do anything objectionable?” I ask, feeling confused and of course insulted.
“You don’t follow the systems,” the reporting officer is happy to bring out the ultimate weapon.
“Can you give me some example?” I ask politely.

The reporting officer quotes one incidence, conveniently forgetting that I had taken written permission in advance; not from anyone else, but from the same reporting officer. I know how much of system people follow, I am not stupid. Only thing is they don’t say anything against it – they just break it. On the other hand, before I take any action, I communicate to the concerned. In a way I am an easy target.

“However, I cannot kick you out, because your work is indeed excellent” laments my reporting officer.
“ Ok, I will submit resignation.” I try to be helpful. What is the fun if the reporting officer does not want you and that too because you are excellent?
“But that won’t give me satisfaction of kicking you out,” reflects the reporting officer. I admire the honesty.

The conversation is only one way, linear, hierarchical. It can happen only in this way because that is the Rule. The System gives one way power to some and makes many others vulnerable. One’s insecurity is another’s power.

(4)

System.

That is the buzz word. That is the most powerful word in the era where ‘Survival of the Fittest’ is the Mantra. Recently I read that Herbert Spencer who coined this term admitted later in his life that ‘fittest always may not be the best’. People can think about philosophy only when they stop participating in any kind of race. If one is competitive, one cannot really grow on the level of ideas – is my experience, I am sure that is yours too.

Most people love systems, either because it gives them a position of privilege or a comfort of stability. Some love systems just by habit and some others because they can’t think of any option. What is a system and what is a good system are subjective definitions. They keep on changing. Even a persons’ perception about the system changes as the person experiences it differently at different times.

I have nothing against systems. When many people are together, rules and regulations are necessary. A system is supposed to be a rational one, no space for emotions and personal favors. I generally follow systems if they work for the advantage of more.

But I am not ‘systmaniac’ like all the people I mentioned earlier. I am aware that certain aspects flower only outside the given framework. Having such moments and freedom in life, where one can cross such barriers is an ultimate luxury. Each one of us has the potential to blossom beyond the stereotypes we are taught to accept, live and expect. But these moments are rare; rest is to be brought into the fold of a working system.

If is only when the soul of the system is lost, when it starts destroying individuality beyond admissible limits, I rebel against the system. When people become maniac about the systems, someone has to demonstrate the futility of that system. Verbal rebellion is not much effective. One has to give up the benefits of the system to make a change. One has to take a stand – intellectual, moral, and social – whatever it is. It is not easy. One just wonders how all those ancient ones who brought changes in the systems had the courage to stand against the tide. One admires the people all around who are in the business of ‘making a change’ – at whatever level micro or macro!

Changing the systems to keep their relevance is not only an intelligent task; it is also creative and exploratory journey. The failures lead to new directions as one gains insights.

When one starts treating RULES as GOALS, that is a sure sign of a systemaniac.

There is very thin line between follower of a system and a systemaniac. We need to be aware and keep asking questions to ourselves – that strengthens immunity against systemania!

86. Connection

What one thinks is long forgotten, suddenly rushes in, without warning, without indication, without any premonition.

That is what I experienced today evening.

It was 5.30 in the evening; I was in the crowded Laxminarayan chowk. The road coming from Gultekadi area is bit narrow. I wanted to go towards Mitramandal area so at the signal I moved to the left of a water tanker. The indicator showed green and without having to take a moment’s stop at the signal I rushed forward.

For a second, I smelt diesel, must be coming from the tanker, I thought.

And suddenly it reminded of a small village. The village adults were excited because a new railway line was being installed in the village. There were suddenly too many new people in the village with hundreds of vehicles. The workers and their ‘sahib’ were staying in newly built homes called ‘quarters’. It was like a city. A city was shaping within a village.

We see small trucks. There is a miracle. With one single action the driver pushes the backward portion of the truck in such an angle that it drops the stones and the soil without any human intervention. When the material is completely dropped down, with a single action the driver brings the portion back to normal. It is a magic for us. However, we (the children) keep away from it. There is a fear: a fear of unknown, a fear of strangers, a fear that someone is destroying our world and a fear that everything is going to change suddenly. All of us are attracted towards that vehicle called ‘dumper’ but we keep away.

We children gather at the lake. We have a serious discussion at hand. Now to think of it, it was indeed a small lake, but for us then it was the world. “Now they are going to dump all that soil in this lake, what will happen to our fish?” one worries loudly. We look at the water. We look at the fish. They seem to be happy and careless as usual. “Hmm, they do not know what is coming to them,” adds another one very philosophically.

‘What is this railway like? And why are they bringing to us? Where will we all go?” is the third query. “And who is this Sarkar they are talking about all the time? When he comes to our village we will throw stones at him. Then he will have to run away with his railway,” fourth point of view is expressed.

“I don’t know why the elders are treating these people well. You see how much tea they drink, even there is a tea shop there,’ fifth mystery to be solved. “Let us run away from this village, my mama’s village has a lake, there are many fish and there is a school too. Let us go there,” that is the sixth option. Questions follow each other without any way out.

Someone laughs at us. We are frightened. We tightly catch each others’ hands.

The truck drivers have come for a stroll at the lake after long working hours. They are listening to our loud discussion and can’t help laughing at us.

“Do you want to drive a truck?’ one of them asks smilingly. Without knowing what it means, I say ‘yes’. My group looks at me as a traitor. But I do not want to miss the adventure. “Come all of you. Will teach you to drive the truck.” one more invitation and that is enough to tempt rest of them.

We rush towards the dumper. Now we are excited, we are shouting, laughing, and teasing each other. The five of us are in the dumper along with the driver. He pushes the key and suddenly there is an unknown smell, very strong and very peculiar.

That was the first time I smelt diesel.

When did it happen? In the antiquity, I guess. I was six or seven years then. I left the village at the age of ten and never went back there. I never remembered this incidence.

But today with that one second of diesel smell, everything came back to me in a crystal clear way. I could smell the dumper, I could smell the lake, and I could see the clear blue skyline disappearing behind the tress. I could hear the laughter of my friends; I could feel the fear of all of us. Though I do not have any contact with anyone of them, they are there with me. Not just the friends, but the place, the earth, the sky, the water, the ‘me’ of that time.

It is strange that there is such a strong connection within the subconscious.

Whether I am physically connected to a place or not does not matter because the subconscious connection exists. That is actually stronger than the physical connection.

Some day in future, my present will become my past. What I will remember then probably will be only such intense moments. If I live superficially today, I will have nothing to remember tomorrow. For making the future connection, I have to live passionately in the present.

The connection of how I live will remain forever for me!

85. Escape

It would be wrong to say that Ashwin woke up with a start.
Actually, he did not sleep even for a minute last night.
But as it happens on such occasions, he finds himself in the state of doubt.
Is he dreaming?
No, in a flash the horror comes back to him.

With a quick bath he is ready. It is just 6.30 in the morning.
“Have a cup of milk, Ashwin. Eat some biscuits. Even yesterday you did not eat anything, it will be very late for lunch,” his mother is pleading.
Ashwin tries to hide his disgust. With full knowledge of the situation how can she talk about food?
He just nods indicating emphatic ‘NO’.
“I will be there around 9.30, once Sharadabai finishes her work. I think it will not be late. When is Rajesh reaching?’ Mother asks.
“No idea. I will find out.” Ashwin is wondering what all these utterances mean
‘And she is worried more about the housemaid completing the work rather than …’ he thinks bitterly to himself.

He had been to Shantanu’s house a thousand times before, almost every day. But today it is different.

From playgroup to 12th class, they studied together, and only few months ago were separated by their academic interests. But every evening, whether it was 10.00 or 11.00, they met without fail. Constant SMSs, chats, emails were of course no alternative to this face to face meeting. There was absolutely nothing in Ashwin’s life which was not shared with Shantanu and Ashwin was sure that the same was true with Shantanu.

Now there will be no more sharing, no more fun, no more jokes. No more crying on Shantanu’s shoulders.
Because, Shantanu is no more.
The accident was fatal.

Ashwin still remembers those earnestly looking eyes of Shantanu. What was Shantanu thinking? What did he want to say? What happened to all those feelings, dreams, and experiences of Shantanu?

Hospitalization, Police inquiry, Coma, Life Saving Drugs, Ventilator and finally the lifeless body of his best friend …all this happening within 48 hours.

‘This can’t be true, I am having a bad dream’, Ashwin is trying to console himself.

But he remembers what happened in full daylight. Shantanu was driving Ashwin’s new bike and Ashwin was sharing a joke with him. Ashwin painfully recalls every detail - right from the moment that Red Maruti car suddenly raced towards their bike to doctor’s declaration of Shantanu’s death. Could he have done something different to save Shantanu? Every second was combination of hope and horror.
Miraculously, Ashwin does not have even a scratch on his body; he is feeling guilty for that.

Ashwin looks at the sky, ‘Where are you Shantanu?’ he cries to himself.
Is there life after death? - Ashwin wonders. Will Shantanu share it with me? – He wonders.

Ashwin reaches Shantanu’s home, the door is open.
“Come”, uncle says in a listless voice. He has grown years in one night, thinks Ashwin.
“Oh! Ashwin, you come very early indeed,” Raghav, Shantanu’s brother in law indicates an empty chair to Ashwin.
“Rachana, Ashwin is here, bring some tea for him,” orders uncle.
Ashwin is aghast.

Shantanu’s body is lying in the hospital. Rajeshbhayya is coming from Saudi, and then the funeral will take place. How could these people coolly talk about a cup of tea as if nothing has happened? Have they forgotten that Shantanu has passed away? Ashwin looks anxiously at them. For a moment he wishes Shantanu would come and they would move around, may be after a cup of tea. Realizing the truth, Ashwin sighs.

Aunty comes out. Her eyes are red and swollen. She does not look at Ashwin. She just sits there. Everybody is silent. No words spoken. No eye contact. Just sound of breaths of so many people.

Raghav picks up ‘Times of India’ and starts reading sports page. Ashwin is shocked. How he can read newspaper now, thinks Ashwin.

“When is Rajeshbhayya reaching?” Ashwin wants to say something and says so without knowing it.
“Oh! Due to that volcano eruption in Iceland, the flight schedule is completely disturbed. Don’t know whether Rajesh will be able to reach or not. Will wait for his message for few more hours and decide about the funeral around 10.00,” one relative informs. Ashwin nods without knowing what else to say. Someone is talking about the police report and someone else is talking about funeral arrangements.

Rachana comes with cups of tea. She smiles at Ashwin, a sad smile indicating her sorrow.

Uncle takes a sip and calls Rachana. “I need more milk in the tea, have you forgotten?’ he is not scolding Rachana but the unhappiness is clearly expressed.

Ashwin’s head is spinning. That his mother talked about food, he could understand to some extent – she is happy because her son is alive. But Shantanu’s parents and family members apparently not affected by his death is something with which Ashwin is unable to cope with.

“Whatever was to happen has happened. God prefers young and innocent. We cannot go against wishes of God. But the rest of us have to continue with life. The human body has its own cycle and it will demand food and sleep. Aunty suffers from diabetes; she should eat and not wait for the funeral. Uncle suffers from hypertension, he too has to eat something before his morning tablet.” Someone is talking in hushed tone to someone else in the now crowded room. Ashwin can not help hearing it. He is speechless. ‘I am useless;’ thinks Ashwin, ‘I cannot remind them of my best friend. How easily they forget the person after he passes away’ …

Ashwin places himself in the situation from a different angle.
Suppose, he was dead and Shantanu was alive. What would be the situation then? May be, the set would change, different actors would be involved but the scene would be almost the same. Then may be his father would want more sugar in his tea and aunty would visit his home after Kamalbai finished with her work! What would Shantanu feel? What would Shantanu do then? Would Shantanu laugh? Would Shantanu feel like he is feeling now?

Ashwin wants to run away; to run away from everybody who is associated with Shantanu. He wants to scream, he wants to cry, he wants to sleep. He wants someone to understand his pain. He wants to take revenge. He wants to rip apart everything, including himself. He wants to fight. He is getting violent. He is absolutely frightened. He wants to be consoled. He wants Shantanu back.

Ashwin wants to close his eyes and wants never to open it. He wants to die too. The realization that ‘Shantanu is dead’ hurts him again, shatters him completely. Ashwin is helpless.

And Ashwin realizes the futility of relations, the meaninglessness of feelings, the temporariness of achievements, and the shallowness of connections. The moment clearly shows him the core selfishness of human beings. The realization transforms Ashwin, it matures him.

‘It is after all just a drama’, Ashwin is thinking. ‘You play your role, the exit and entry of others does not really affect you. All pain and tears for loss of others is just a momentary feeling. Life moves on as they say and rightly too’.

Ashwin has a lump in throat; tears engulf the world around. He is in an infinite vacuum. His body trembles.

“What are you thinking Ashwin? Your tea is getting cold,” aunty reminds him softly. Ashwin was always impatient with Shantanu’s habit of drinking ‘cold’ tea. Ashwin avoids stare of Shantanu’s mother.

'You are lucky, Shantanu', Ashwin says to himself. 'Mate, you died in ignorance, which is indeed good. You escaped the reality that nobody is yours, you are born alone and you die alone… rather you live alone too without knowing it…Good for you man. I am happy that you did not have to suffer from this reality.'

Ashwin feels very lonely. He has to live with this wisdom and loneliness forever.

No escape for Ashwin.

84. Good Around

I am at the office of Bharat Sanchar Nigam Limited. It is 1.45 in the afternoon. I have a dial up internet connection at home and for months I have wanted to get Broad Band Connection. I access BSNL site and the online application facility seems to be dysfunctional. So, I have no alternative but to physically visit their office. So, I am in the BSNL office.


“It is lunch time”, the moment I park my two wheeler, the security person declares. “Oh! I thought the lunch time is from 1.00 to 1.30”, I say. It is of no use saying ‘I think’ in such moments, but by habit I say so and feel sheepish the next moment. The security man smiles understandingly and does not comment.

“What do you want madam?” another man appears at the entrance. I tell him that I want an application form for Broad Band Connection. “Go to the ground floor right hand door,” he orders me. “But it is lunch time?” I try not to show any hope. The man says, “They are still to start their lunch. Tell them I asked you to go there if someone asks,” he adds. I do not know who this man is and whether the people inside would take this argument – many people might be using it everyday. “That much we need to do for customers”, the man is telling to the security person as I walk in.

There is certainly a door at the right side of the ground floor. It is closed. I open it partially and see three women and one man working inside. The room is full of huge machinery – about which I do not understand anything at all. “Sorry, I know it is lunch time. But I was told to meet you, can I come inside?” I ask politely.

To my surprise everyone is smiling. This is a welcome change – otherwise at government offices they constantly make you feel guilty without cause.

“Madam, please have this,” the only man in the room offers me a glass of sugarcane juice. I am surprised. This is totally unexpected offer. I was expecting a bark, a shout and instead I am getting an offer of chilled sugarcane juice. I try to refuse it politely. “Oh! No! Thanks, I just had an ice-cream,” I share information which is absolutely not necessary. I tend to share unnecessary information (when I am not writing blog ) when I am caught off guard. Then I see that everyone has a sugarcane juice glass. It is 42 degree Celsius outside; naturally everyone wants some cool fresh drink.

I smile and ask whether they are celebrating something. Now it is their turn to smile. One of the staff members has offered the juice to all his team, for no apparent cause. So, everybody is in a good mood. Then we discuss trivialities till I wait to finish them their juice.

I ask for Broad Band Application form. It is available upstairs. I go there and find the window and the room empty. This group must be taking lunch. The official lunch time is from 1.30 to 2.00. That means I will have to wait for another ten to fifteen minutes. I decide to come again as I have to catch up with some other work.

The woman from the ground floor has come to the first floor. I tell her that I plan to come again next week. She says, “Don’t go. I realized that this group has gone for lunch. Wait a second and I will give you the required form.” She gives me the form and with me she climbs down for her lunch.

For me this was one more amazing experience. If people who know me behave well with me, there is no surprise, because there is always a prior experience and expectation. It is sort of give and take – if someone helps me, I am supposed to help when my turn comes. If I don’t help, the other person would not help me next time.

But I am always amazed when strangers help. Yes, to provide forms to customers is the duty of the BSNL staff. But during lunch hour? But when that is not one’s duty and somebody else’s? And to take extra efforts for that? And to not shout but offer sugarcane juice when someone intrudes during lunch hour? Oh! Times Change and BSNL too is changing!!

I still smile when I remember that episode.

Sometimes I meet egoistic, power hungry, immature, non-cooperative people. I have my share of ugliness in life. However I can take that smilingly, because I have such BSNL type of experiences too.

After all it is my choice to allow certain experiences to shape my life and my attitude. I feel lucky that I meet so many good people everyday around that even if I want, I can’t be bitter about life. Along with cruelty, wickedness, selfishness, there is lot of good around. What is needed is to see it, enjoy it and reciprocate it!

83. Bheema Nee Ghantee

“Madam, come this way if you want to see Bheema nee Ghantee ”.

I am in Gujarat. As part of our official work the team is visiting two villages today to document process of two development initiatives in tribal areas. Everything is arranged in advance. A day before the team asks ‘whether we can visit Jambughoda, few kilometers away from our work area, during this field visit". “What is there to see?” I ask casually. “Oh! A huge idol of Hanuman!” explains one of my colleagues. Then he hastily adds, “The forest around is cool and you would definitely enjoy the place. It is actually a sanctuary.” When the whole team wants to visit the place, there is no point in saying ‘no’ especially when it is not going to affect our work.

We are in Panchamahal district, about 70 kilometers from Vadodara. On the way, we cross Pavagadh. It is a hill fortress and capital of a 16^th century princely state. We do not visit it, but the place seems to be a good site to visit. The advertisement boards on the road inform us that there is even 'rope way' facility to visit the fort.

We visit Zand Hanuman. What is the meaning of Zand, I am not able to understand, may be it means HUGE. Lots of Mahua trees on the way, their fragrance is maddening. We watch tribal people collecting Mahua flowers. They earn a little income by selling those flowers. Now the forest is not green naturally, but the air is cool. I can imagine what the scenario must be in the post monsoon period. But even in the month of March – April – May, forest has its own beauty.

The 21 feet Hanuman idol is beautiful. Photography is strictly prohibited here, so I do not open my digicam. The driver of our car, a local person tells me that during the 13^th year of agnyaatavaasa (‘incognito’ stay), the Pandavas stayed here. He also narrates a story that Arjun with his bow and arrow created a flowing water stream to quench their thirst. The stream has completely gone dry now, but during monsoon it is powerful flow. How Hanuman (from Ramayana) comes and fits into the ‘Pandava’ place is my curiosity, the driver and other colleagues laugh at this question. When one cannot answer, one laughs – that is the strategy almost each one of us uses.

Next is ‘Bheema nee Ghantee’! Though I understand Gujrati well enough, somehow I am thinking about a ‘huge bell’ which may be only Bheema could use. So when I come across Bheema nee Ghantee I am disappointed for a moment. But then I realize my mistake of mixing Hindi, Gujrati and Marathi and smile. Because what I see is a huge grinding stone. Looking at its size it appeares to be Bheema's grinding stone!

During the 13^th year of ‘agnyaatavaasa’, Bheema worked as a chef – ballavacharya. May be, this Ghantee then was used by him. So, is this ancient Keechaka kingdom? I do not know. The best option seems to be ‘internet search’. It is funny that now- a days I get more information about my country through internet!

I find so many stones around. “What is this?” I ask. My team is slowly getting used to my questions and they try their best to satisfy me. “Here, one builds imaginary house with the help of stones lying around. If this house remains stable, you get a similar house in your real life. Your wish of having your own house is fulfilled.” My colleagues ‘build’ – two storied, three storied, five storied houses in a childlike enthusiasm!

Many religious places have such stories built around them. I look at my colleagues and see a dream, a hope in their eyes. Suddenly, I realize that all this is not just a superstition; it is a kind of motivation for those who are homeless, who have to live in rented house all their life. I look at the ‘houses’ in the area and realize that so many of us need some hope, some encouragement that life in future would be much better. I am deeply touched by this phenomenon. Though I do not build a home there, I do not laugh at others. I wish that all those people and everyone else should have a home to live happily.

We return. On the way we have seen a number of police personnel. I smile at couple of them and ask “Is any VIP visiting today?” One officer smiles but does not answer. I add, “I understand if you do not give me information. Just curious because I have seen so many of your colleagues on the way.” The second officer decides to share the information. “The Chief Justice (of Gujrat) is visiting. Good you came early here. Now the Chief Justice would be here any minute. If you were late, you would have to wait for half an hour.”

We are happy that we came before the VIP visit. The police are not harassing anyone, but they are taking extra precaution, which is well understood and appreciated. As we start, we see a convoy of vehicles approaching the temple. I count those. One, two .. there are twenty one vehicles. The whole district machinery is geared up for this visit. It is easy to separate pilot vehicle from the vehicle of the VIP. We are informed that the Chief Justice is in Jambughoda for inauguration of court building. I do not take photograph, obviously as I am not a press photographer!

So, like us, the Chief Justice is combining pleasure and work. But I cannot help thinking about ‘who bears the cost of such pleasure trips?’ The answer is known and we have accepted that.

I do not know whether the VIP guests also went to Bheem nee Ghantee and built their dream house there! May be, they did not because like me they too are privileged with a home! May be we are not innocent enough like all those people to believe in our own dreams.. we are too rational for such a joy of life! Does it mean that I can afford to be rational only when I am happy? Don't really know!
*

82. FOOL

(1)

“So, this is the plan and everybody should perfectly play their role. Any questions?” Ashish asked, in apparently mild tone. It was a typical tone a person with unlimited authority generally uses when speaking to his/her subordinates.

Everybody spontaneously looked at Ranjita. Generally she was the person to raise questions, to critically look at the process and to proactively think about various options. Others always put their gun on her shoulder, which was always safe for them. Anticipating other’s reaction; Ranjita kept the eye contact but did not say anything. By experience she knew that this was just a necessary ritual. If she said something, Ashish was not going to take it sportingly and would become aggressive. And others would always be on the fence, and would join the wining side. They were cowards. It was the game Ranjita was tired of playing any more.

“This is it then. Let us proceed. Keep me informed on the overall progress, I am sure we will do well this time too as we always do.” Ashish was trying to hide his relief that Ranjita was silent and wanted to wind the meeting immediately.

March is the hardest month in the life of those who work in Non Government Organizations –NGOs. Though called non-government, most of the NGOs in India are culturally close to government; at least Manthan, where Ranjita worked, was! They have the hierarchy, the authority, the ‘red tape’ism, the over-emphasis on rules and systems and general apathy towards efficiency. However March brings lot of change in working culture. March is the time to show as much impact as one can show, to utilize as much money as one can before 31^st March, to document as many success stories as one can, to impress the Boss as much as one can because it is the time of annual appraisal, opportunity to get increment and promotion.

Ashish was the team leader of one of the important projects – in NGO sector Foreign Funded Projects have a special place. Ranjita, Mahesh, Devendra, Rayabhan and Pawan were the team members. Actually Ashish was not much experienced, but he came from the ‘Institute’, that was qualification enough according to the senior management. If it was only inexperience, others could take it, because each one of them was inexperienced at some point of time. But Ashish’s arrogance, the ‘know all’ approach was irritating and frustrating. The team wished the Institute had given Ashish some elementary lessons in humility! What irritated the team more was when seniors were present, Ashish was totally different person. How a person can be ‘two’ constantly, Ranjita wondered.

(2)

Manthan, though had a perfect ideology when it was established was slowly converted into a body with ‘ideology of convenience’. No matter what the ground reality was, the donors were kept pleased. No one had the courage to say ‘No’ to donors, because it was more a question of good will than the development of rural people. Everyone talked a lot of jargon – sustainability, participation, empowerment, capability building, linkages etcetera, but the words had long lost the meaning.

Now this proposal put forth by the donor agency, was not at all practical. They wanted certain processes to be completed in a very short time – forgetting that no community is homogeneous, each community has power structures, not every member of the community can participate and not all people want the poorest of the poor to benefit. But Manthan management with its ideology of convenience had accepted all those terms and conditions.

Now everybody in Manthan knew that the project intervention had faced so many hurdles that it actually was not initiated, forget about the impact. It was difficult for the grassroot workers to motivate purdah clad women, sensitize their men. Addressing issues raised by the last communal riots was beyond the control of Manthan. Then there were issues related to basic infrastructure, issues related to social inequality, issues related to politicization and issues related to human dignity. Still Ashish was talking about grand success.

The team respected Ranjita. According to them Ranjita was not competitive in nature, she believed in coexistence and cooperation. She believed that people have different strengths and one should work with others’ strengths and never focus on anyone’s weaknesses. Ashish had exactly opposite philosophy. He was ruthless, ambitious, and selfish. The team had to salute Ashish because of his designation, but for them Ranjita was their friend, philosopher and guide. Working with Ranjita was motivating and highly creative.

However Ranjita was tired of acting like a fool. She had the capacity to lead, but she had to play second fiddle just because she did not come from a renowned Institute. She was constantly neglected when it mattered most. She was tired of being ‘used’ by the management conveniently. It is time, Ranjita decided, to teach them a lesson; it is time to act and to act intelligently.

Ranjita thought about it over a cup of coffee, over routine emails and telephone conversations, she thought about it over signing number of vouchers, she thought about it again and again. She did not have much time to act, just a week left. The time was an important factor, if she mistimed it, then it would backfire. Ranjita remembered all those talks in the early days of Manthan, and felt that she had become a cheater. It was not only moral dilemma to her; it was a question of professional honesty too. But sometime life has larger stakes. ‘When there are other worlds, why care for this world?’ - Ranjita told herself.

Back home, Ranjita opened her laptop at one in the morning. “Dear Sir”, she wrote to Mr. Sarkar, the President of Manthan. She summarized the situation. She questioned the rightness of whatever happened. She appealed the President to intervene and guide the team properly so that the integrity of the team remained intact. She re-read those ten polite but potentially trouble making lines once again. With a sigh she pressed the ‘send’ button.

Ranjita knew her action was like placing a bomb. Either the President did not know it or it was under his instructions Ashish was working. If the President did not know, there were hopes. But if it was the other case, Ranjita was committing suicide. Or were there still other hopes? She wondered. She was sure she had nothing to lose in either case.

(3)

As expected Ranjita’s cell phone rang at 7.00 in the morning, Mr. Sarkar was on the line.

“Are you sure about the truth of the story you wrote me today morning, young lady?” Mr. Sarkar was known for his no-nonsense approach.

“Yes Sir, I am. I do not want this to happen sir, it will spoil the image of Manthan”, Ranjita pleaded.

“Don’t worry about the image” snapped Mr. Sarkar back. “Do you have any proof?” he asked casually.

“Yes Sir, I have back up of all those transactions”, she confidently told.

“Mail me those now and meet me at 10.15 sharp” he ordered and without any formalities cut off the line.

Ranjita was excited. The President had called her for discussion meant he had taken her seriously. She needed to prepare for the meeting, because the President was famous for asking apparently irrelevant questions, but Ranjita knew that his mind worked fast to connect and infer. Her earlier experience of him was encouraging, that is the reason she had chosen to approach him. The first step brought the expected result, thought Ranjita and beamed.

At 10.15 Ranjita entered President’s room and was disappointed to see Ashish and Mr. Gogia, the Vice President sitting there. All the three men welcomed Ranjita with a broad smile. “You have done a great service, young lady”, Mr. Sarkar was in a very friendly mood. “Yes sir, Ranjita is a very capable colleague; her critical analysis and proactive way of working is always valuable. Her insights have saved us from many troubling moments”, Ashish added enthusiastically. Ranjita was speechless. Why was Ashish praising her in front of seniors? What was his plan? Was he too in the game?

Now it was Mr. Gogia’s turn. “Yes, she is an asset to Manthan, Sir. She is a hard worker and a selfless person. Sometimes I feel guilty that we have not really understood Ranjita’s worth.” He added. “Sir, I have an idea.”

“Please, go ahead”, ordered Mr. Sarkar.

“Sir, I suggest that taking into consideration Ranjita’s experience, commitment, professional excellence, I suppose she is the only eligible person to take on this Seattle opportunity. She would represent Manthan most appropriately and truthfully.”

“That is a great idea. Ashish, what is your opinion?” asked Mr. Sarkar.

Ashish was confused for a moment. He was sharp enough to fall in line when needed. Those two men had planned specific action, and it was clear that they were not hurting him. They were trying to throw Ranjita away in a civilized manner. If that meant a loss of US trip, Ashish was ready for that. He knew if he followed the bosses now, many more opportunities would come. And he needed to save his neck too.

“But Sir,” Ranjita tried to appeal to the President. She sounded desperate.

“Don’t worry. I will take care of everything. Now hurry up. You have only three days to prepare. Yes, I know you have a valid US multiple entry Visa. It is a six months stay in USA, fully sponsored by Manthan. It is a lifetime opportunity. Congratulations, Ranjita, you really deserved it. Gogiajee, I leave the whole affair to you. Ranjita should have no trouble. Budget is no constraint, her comfort is important. Now what are you thinking about young lady? Run, you need to prepare for the travel. ” Mr. Sarkar smiled.

Ranjita had no option but to leave the room. She could feel that the three men were completely relaxed now. They had successfully fooled Ranjita. Had they?

Outside, Rayabhan and Mahesh were waiting anxiously. Ranjita tried to smile; but could not.

“We know, don’t speak”, said Mahesh.

“They have fooled you again”, Rayabhan said disgustingly. “Why are you such a fool? Couldn’t you resist the US offer? If you did not want to take a stand, why at all you started it? Were you frightened of losing the job? Why did you compromise?” He bombarded Ranjita with questions.

“Mate, Ranjita is not a fool.” Devendra was looking at her sternly. “We are fools to believe that she is acting for certain principles and we are fooled by all that rotten moral talk of hers. Don’t be stupid to be shocked. Ranjita is clever; she has gained what she wanted. She caught the management in bloody corner and blackmailed them. All this was done so sophisticatedly that even the President was fooled. Not that he is innocent; he is the biggest monster I have come across. But it takes brains to fool that President of ours. Am I right Ranjita? Kudos to you!” Devendra as usual was sarcastic at his best.

Ranjita had nothing to complain about the win-win deal. The seniors had their way and she had hers. She allowed them the satisfaction of fooling her, but in reality she had fooled them. It will take months for them to understand what she had provided. By the time they understand the futility of her accusations, she will be safely employed in US. She wanted to laugh, but controlled her feelings. She always believed that when you win, you should be most humble. In this situation she could afford to take on distrust of her colleagues. They did not matter any more to her. Now she had no time for arguments, defenses, discussions and convincing anyone. She did not need it now.

May be, she would discuss when she returns from USA. If at all she returns!

Just three days to leave for US! With infinite dreams in her eyes, Ranjita walked away without looking back.

Suddenly Ranjita stopped dead remembering Rayabhan’s distraught face. She realized that in the name of ambition and in the name of victory over others, she had lost something precious. A moment of temptation had destroyed her commitment and honesty forever. She realized that now onwards she has to live with this guilt.

In the process of fooling others, Ranjita had ultimately fooled herself!!