He was frustrated- frustrated over his bosses extreme bossy nature, frustrated over the fight with his colleagues over the way he wants them to work with him, frustrated over his family always bugging him to marry when he said he doesn’t want to, frustrated over the way life had treated him, frustrated over his girlfriend who dumped him for his assistant, frustrated over the stupidity he did trusting her.

He was about to sleep, thinking about all the frustrations of life. But at these times, when you are thinking about the dilemmas of your life, you always think of god. God wanted it like that. He wanted us to remember him at-least sometimes in our life. So, he created all the valleys in life so that you can just tumble down and remember him. Otherwise in this busy world we don’t even remember our very closed ones. And thus he remembered him.

“Why?”

He had nothing else to ask. And even God was confused to give an answer. So, he just slept.

God was bemused about what to do. So, he searched in his computer for the folder about the man’s life. He didn’t remember what he planned for him. He found it, read it and just smiled. It was just too easy.!

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The next day was going the same way for him. He woke up frustrated, brushed frustrated, got fresh frustrated, had breakfast frustrated. He was one frustrated fellow! His parents again bugged him about his marriage plans but stopped when they saw his frustrated face. God was looking at all of it- smiling. Just when his assistant saw him.

“Why are smiling God?”

“I found the solution to his problems”

“And what is that?”

“Just watch!”

The man drove his car to his office. He knew even today he wont be able to convince his boss that the product they are making wouldn’t fetch them any profit. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get any help from his colleagues. But he didn’t knew that God was watching him. He was prepared for the worst.

He was sitting in his cabin. Just when his phone rang.

“Sire! Miss Gitika has come to meet you. She wants to talk to you about some product fault.”

“Hmm…ohk let her in” He said as he prepared himself for something worse-a complaint!

He started acting as if he had a lot of work to do. He started looking in his files.

KNOCK KNOCK!!

“Come in.”

He still didn’t look up just to avoid the complaint. He knew there was a flaw but he was himself fighting with people in his company about it. But, then she had different plans.

“Sir?” Her voice was pleasing. He HAD to look up.

A girl in the mid 20’s, average height, clear face was standing in front of her- looking nervous.

“Yes? You came for some complaint?”

“No.”

“Then? you are Gitika right?”

“Yes. But I am not here for complaint.”

“So, why are you here?”

“For the post of your assistant…” He was baffled. But she continued. “…Actually, Mrs. Nayyar told me you had an assistant but he left and you don’t like to take anyone in now. So,….” This time she just stopped and smiled to him. It was done. Her smile was beautiful. It was magical and the magic worked.

He hadn’t even smiled for so long. But, he was smiling in return. He could do nothing but smile. God did it. His idea worked.!

PS: the post is dedicated to a very dear friend whose smile is what made me think about this story and whose ‘encouragement’ made me write this, although its all fiction.

PS: rock on!!!

Six years later, I was one among the fourteen special officers selected to combat the maoists at the North-Eastern border. After weeks of meticulous planning and sleepless nights of constant vigil  in the lush green rainforests, we began hearing the movement of people, sounds of voices and a stir of activity. Making sure it was a gang of terrorists, we began packing our ammunition and started progressing towards the location. Several hours later,camouflaged behind the bushes and trees, we watched the men and prepared to attack. The colonel mouthed , ‘One, Two & Three’ and we leapt from behind our covers and opened fire.

Nearly missing one bulky man, I saw two figures running away from the clearing. Keeping my rifle in their direction and trying to take aim, I joltered towards them. A few minutes and several metres later, one of them came to an abrupt halt and turned to me.He was wearing  a simple brown pant and no shirt. The other man, sensing what had happened, came back to rescue his fellow and meanwhile I took complete control of the situation. ‘Weapons down & Hands up!’, I yelled. The man in the brown pants dropped his gun and continued to stare at me, transfixed. His fellow followed suit. I cautiously turned my gaze and my rifle towards him and instantly recognized the warm blue eyes, the precise aim of which saved my life from the hungry lioness, years ago.

Caught in a moment of turmoil, torn between gratitude and duty, unaware of what to choose, whether to forgive his identity or forget his favour, I focussed at him. He gave me a simple, wry smile and a nod.
The other man, trying to take advantage of my minor distraction, bent to reach for his weapon and without a second thought, I fired a bullet into his neck. I turned to see the other man’s reaction. His eyes showed the same warm, fearless expression. The smile continued to remain on his sun-burnt lips. How can he smile like that,even after seeing his friend dead in a pool of blood and his killer pointing a gun against him? Does he think I would spare him because he saved my life years ago? Unsure of what to do, whether to listen to the voice inside my head telling me to do my duty or to my pounding, gratitude filled heart that wanted to let him go, my palms began to sweat.

Belonging to a patriotic family, I’d always loved the armed forces. I knew i’d be here long before i even went to school. I spent my childhood with my nani (maternal grandmother) listening to stories about how my brave grandfather and probably all the men belonging to the family fought for the country. Coming from a minority religion in this vastly Hindu dominated nation, we are often prejudiced about our love towards the country. My brother’s wife is receiving his pension after the 1993 war after which he never came back home. Whether he is a prisoner of war or a martyr, we do not know. But when a teacher asked his twelve year old son what he wants to do when he grows up he said he wants to become a fighter pilot one day.

The whirlpool of thoughts were making me feel drained of my strength. My rifle suddenly seemed too heavy, almost as heavy as my heart. ‘Could i just let him go and pretend as if he escaped despite my efforts? Or kill him and live with the guilt for the rest of my life?’
Why am i taking so long to figure out that the man who has saved me when i was in my uniform, knowing well that i’m an enemy to his profession, has surrendered before me and is expecting me to kill him to protect my motherland?? Is my life more valuable than the nation’s well being? I knew the answer to that simple final question. I said, ‘ Forgive me’ and pulled the trigger.

“Dhoni ke teen bandar” That was the title line for the story which was flashing on a national news channel after the first match of the Australia-India ongoing series.

What they showed under it was funny.! No..! It was hilarious.!
What a way of criticism.?! For people who worship cricket, it was very entertaining. But on the flipside-What the beep was that?!

What Dhoni did was that he still praised Praveen Kumar after the loss. But he was worth it.! He and Harbhajan played and made it look like India was winning. If it was not them India would have lost by miles.!

Another thing what Dhoni said was that he was satisfied with the fielding of the Indian team so far. Now, what exactly was said by him was that he was happy with the improvement in Indian team’s fielding so far. But yes, he should be criticized.

Indian team’s fielding was not satisfying in this match and he should have not been satisfied.

But the way they showed the clip again and again was torturous.! You can tell a person that he is wrong but it does not give anyone a right to make a mockery. And not surprisingly, earn money through it. Isn’t this the HARAM KA PAISA?

They should be criticized, but not like dogs.! Give them some space..! Criticize them but atleast let them feel guilty about it.

But the way they have done it always end up in making one feel that it was overdone.!

When now India has won the second match by a very big margin of 99 runs, our very own cricketers are considered the Gods.!

Why this double standard policy? May be just to earn money.! That’s what they are getting. Morality is not the feature, but money is, spice is. I think if this could change now, but its a pity that the common Indian man is helping them by watching them, with there eyes glued to the television screen and laughing on others mockery without thinking about morals.

Its sad.

I have been using it,  for so many days, so many times. I have got used to it and also got used to the abuse, the hatred. I traveled in the local bus, daily. The reason for this abuse and hatred was my beard. It told everyone that I was a Muslim guy. Just because of my beard, they forgot the I was also a human.! They even forgot that I traveled with them everyday.!

Not everyone though. There was Suhani, my colleague. She never said anything, which hurt me. She was very sweet. But then, she was sweet with everyone. I wasn’t special. But at least I was equal.

Then there was Rahim Chacha. He was another person whom I talked with. He told his daily experiences to me. What all they told him to the very first day they realized he was Muslim was very painful and in fact to be correct, disgusting.!

I had studied in great places, very reputed colleges and was now working at a very good company. But this daily abuse was pathetic. They never missed a chance. They just said,

“Kaum hi kharab hai sali”

They might be just a few words to blabber, but they rang everytime in my head.!!

Today was the perfect day for them. Neither Suhani nor Rahim Chacha were present today.

“HEY! Mr. Terrorist! Come here.” One of them hauled. I went towards him.

“Hmmm…Can you prove you are a Muslim?” What kind of question was that?

I didn’t answer. HOW CAN I???

“Answer motherfucker..!..Alright. I’ll check it for myself.”

I was not sure what he was upto. But what he did was shameful, disgraceful..! It was a perfect day. And he did his best to embarrass me to the edge.

He suddenly pulled my pants off.!

Everybody started laughing.

I would have cried, but I didn’t. It was the perfect day. The Bus stopped and I got down from it. It wasn’t the destined stoppage, but after going through what happened, I just wanted to run away as quickly as I could.

The bus started to move and suddenly it was blown to pieces..! Booooom….and what was left was only the non-living parts of the bus.

It was a perfect day and I did it.!

No Regret.!

PS: As far as I know this is hypothetical.

PS: It only takes 2 seconds to do the evil.

like if i go don’t go to college tomorrow, i could get some rest (and perhaps even lose my dark circles). but what if the class councilors get screwy and make a big deal out of it? bcoz thats what most private engineering colleges usually like doing… and already my attendance is kinda pathetic..

and if i do go to college, I’m not sure if my time spent there would be worthwhile. The so called lecturers with their run-of-the-mill degrees would come and start off their monotonous drone and we’d use all our strengths to keep our eyes open…

sometimes to help myself from falling asleep, i would take a james hadley chase book to college and have a good read. Or my friends & i would start rediscovering & playing those old childish games – name place things animals, raja-rani, hangman, hollywood, etc etc

do u think this is a sane way of spending 8 hours a day???

if i’m at home, i could do a hundred other useful things, i could blog, read newspapers, books, help mom, do my dance shows, practice, prepare for competitive exams, help my bro with his lessons, etc etc.. the list is endless.

but if i’m at college, all i can do is park my seat on this chair for 8 hours and gaze blank-eyed at the weirdo on the dais.

it’s almost 12:30 pm now. the weather is cold and the bedsheets look warm and inviting.. but tomorrow is saturday and the thought of getting up early n going to college is turning me off… should i vent out my frustrations by writing more.. or should i sleep? should i sleep with my head facing up or sideways? … should i… or should i not ????