Wait...........its Worth the Wait!!

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Sometimes a long wait is worth than to have short and similar looking versions of writings.... keep reading this space for a new entry soon.... very diffrent and gripping... in parts as complete works!

Hope you will enjoy this too!

Suicide

His Friend:-

I am unable to say any thing… numb with pain and sorrow…what to say or share?

When the phone rang I was still sleepy, and was not very sure whether I should get up and start the day… may be age was catching up with me… but the call was devastating…. she called up and the message that I heard was not sinking in, was un-comprehendible for me, my reaction and scream brought my husband from his study to the bedroom…from that moment he took charge of me and situation… in next 45 min. we were on our way to be with her.

From where should I begin… it’s a long story; I first met him, when, he was 18 years and I was 24. He was well built, broad, and looked almost grown up, unlike others who were visibly growing up and wanted to look grown/ outgrown. It was rather difficult to accept his age as, He was a Hunk! A guy any girl dreamt to be holding hands for life; a guy one could rarely take one’s eyes away from him… Prince Charming, I had never come across such a handsome boy till now, though I had completed my post graduation and was now pursuing my doctoral thesis.

I too, looked bit younger than my age, and this was one of the reasons for my attractions towards him. His magnetic charm and my looks, it was deadly combination… in our first meeting , which was a sheer accident, he was looking out for HoD’s office and I was coming out of the same as HoD was not there… I informed him, without he asking me whether HoD was in…and during this conversation we glanced (or may be I took that chance to talk to him) at each other and were struck by the charm…. we talked at length, in our first meeting, may be it was for two hours… nothing personal but for names, we were talking about the “world” and were disappointed with world and its rules… it was during this conversation we figured differences in our age. He thought I was also a fresher, and for me I thought he was new student on fellowship from some other city. Needless to add it was love at first sight for both.

Both were very sure that we can not be anything more than friends….. What amazed me was his matured thinking at that young age…when and where most boys were lost and saw relationships very differently. He stayed away from any attraction from anyone… this reinforced our relationship and was the sole base, the basis of our friendship.

Eventually I got married; he could not attend my wedding. But my husband knew about him. We were in touch with each other through mails… We continued to write to each other meet with our respective families and, now after almost 25 years… today when I, reflect / react on the recent step that he has taken… I have no words, no clues as to why he has done…what he has done… taken those extreme steps.

I, remember his wedding, all of us were there, my husband, my kids. His wife was a very simple looking girl. My first thought was… he could have waited for a while… or may be …”there were more beautiful girls”… but I did not, rather could not say anything; I was taken aback by my own thoughts. Wedding was a very simple affair… we spent couple of days with him and his family, before they left for their honeymoon. During this time I became close friends with his wife too… only 48- 72 hours old relationship…. she was younger to me by almost 10 years…. but we became great friends. I was proud of him for the choice that he made. He amazed me again, by choosing a spouse that was “beautiful” from within. She too was a person with magnetic charm though not traditionally beautiful…my initial thoughts just melted and disappeared never to surface again.

I was thinking of her now…. how she must be taking the whole episode? I wanted to be with her… as soon as possible…a span of 25 years was going through my mind… life was really kind to them, no ups and downs; everything was as if well planned. We met last on my husband’s 50^th birthday… memories of that time lingered for a while in my mind…

His wife:-

I met her on our wedding day, she indeed was a lady with grace as described by him, and he had told me about their first meeting, on our first date… I always found him “cute- and innocent” though he looked matured, and with his looks and style, and the long line of girls falling/ following him, I am sure he could have misused his power… but he was known for his character, intelligence, and looks… people could not really put them in any order… they felt girl like me was lucky to find this guy, or he choosing me was

I was not jealous of her, but was curious to know/ look… and find out more about her… I wanted to know who was the first girl, whom my “would –be- husband”, gave his heart, for the first time… he never described her… always talked about her. It was me who visualized her, pictured her in my thoughts… I was no doubt elated when he first proposed me, he was my senior in college and we belonged to different communities. We got along well from the first meeting and were friends, even after he finished college and pursued his PhD from a different university, we kept in touch, and I started working as an assistant lecturer after my M. Phil. in the same dept. The day he proposed me, and the way he proposed me, I still remember… even after 23 years… He came straight to my work area, there were other colleagues too… it was total filmy, he came with bunch of red roses, and kneeled and loud and clear he asked for me to commit to him… I was happy, perplexed, thrilled, but was not sure of expressing the right emotion. Though we had known each other for almost 3 years as students in the same college and 3 years of friendship, it was no where near the courtship… at least I did not crave for him… though I had liked the idea of getting married to him… I was also thrilled with the fact that he considered me to be his life partner, knowing fully well that he has never let his emotions/ feelings expressed to anyone. It was like true love…..I needed sometime… the day in the college was filled with romantic air and news spread like wild fire… I decided to leave for home as I could not take the stare from people…

He was there too…. sitting with his parents at my place and had already talked about his actions to my parents… both parents seemed happy about the union… But I needed some time to understand, as to why he thought of me as his partner, why he communicated his love to me that way he communicated, may be I was still not prepared to be married to him…My parent felt that my reservations could be disastrous and I will loose a chance- opportunity that came my way… I felt exactly the opposite… I wanted to experience the love for him first before I commit…

It took 2 years for us to get married… since that day our relationship had changed. Though he was same I started looking at things differently, analyzing him, trying to understand him, and trying to fall in love with him! It was during this time he first mentioned about her, and how he reconciled to the fact that she was not a match for him, I had just heard about her as a meritorious student of the dept. but never seen her or met her. As I started looking at him, his kindness, maturity, love, care concern seemed new to me, I started enjoying the relationship and finally I said yes to him… and within a fortnight were married. We were now planning to celebrate our silver jubilee….in few years.

Life was pictureous, envious, and so fulfilling… that I wondered why people cribbed about life, marriage, kids, work, life was really kind to me…but for his last step ,now….

I could just call her… she was my lifeline… guardian…

We had been good friends, we clicked from the day we met on our wedding day, both of us shared life like sisters to each other, I had become emotionally dependent on her after I lost both my parents, and she was my mentor. I was too numb to call on his very old and ailing parents or any of our relatives… I just informed her… and asked her to take care of the rest…the only question that was bothering me… is why…. why did he take this step… how could I not read his mind… was he dissatisfied with me? Life? What was it that he thought was missing in our lives... we had everything…. our son was doing his internship at nearby medical college replica of his father, and fiercely independent… how can he take such a step after 25 years...? I kept looking for clues and answers… Our son was shocked, numb, shaken and had cold stare….no shoulder to cry….

Police, walked in the study, by 7.00 am they were searching for some papers, note, clue, or anything- matter that will lead them further in this case… (?)

He had become a “case” now… may be his actions… Though they tried to gather information based their initial talk with us, neighbours, his colleagues and family friends … every one was shocked surprised and were trying to be as helpful as possible… I was starring at everyone in disbelief… how could he do this… how could he plan this, and no one was even aware of it,…I slept in the same room everyday…

Phone was ringing continuously … first to confirm the news and later to speak to me… I did not answer any phone call… I just called her and asked her to reach here, to be with me. I was waiting for her…

It took her 7 hours to be with me, though she took the first flight… I broke down in her arms, and for the first time I realized the impact of his actions …

Suicide….yes, he had hanged himself…in our bedroom, when I entered the room after the door was broken, I did not see him on the bed… but I saw him hanging… not realizing that…my scream was to wake the entire building…I just fainted… collapsed next to the bed…. somebody sprinkled water on me… I got up, gathered courage to walk… reached the phone and called her… after the call I fainted again…neighbours had taken charge of things and mess…

That day I got up as usual, at 5 am and woke him up to, this was a routine for both, very rarely did they miss their walk together. That day he said; he was too tired to join me for the walk, I left alone, and he got up and latched the door from inside. We usually take one hour walk; and some time he goes for swimming on Wednesdays. That day I returned after one hour… usually he would keep tea ready for me, more so if he did not accompany me for the morning walks and make me feel very special… I was at the door for long, I had not carried my cell for walk that day, I called neighbours, and tried to call from their landline… when he did not pick the cell, nor the landline phone, or his cell…I panicked… Neighbours too gathered, they also had seen some smoke in the balcony some time ago, but did not alert anyone as it subsided……

It took long for the door to open, they were trying to minimize the damage while trying to break open the door…and my heart was pacing up and down… no amount of bang at the door woke him? Was he alright/ safe? Those 10 minutes looked life to me… unaware of what will I face/see next… I was anxious to get in and reach to him the minute door opened…our latch was changed by him a fortnight ago only…quoting safety reasons, hence the additional set of keys, which our neigbours usually had… were inside… I had mentioned couple of days ago to hand over the set of new keys to our neighbours … all these thoughts raced my mind in that 7-10 min…. and as we walked in… I rushed straight to bedroom, where he was sleeping. I fainted at the sight. Who called police, I am not sure…When and how our son was by my side I am not aware… the image of him hanging…. hanging from ceiling …

His friend:-

She could not complete the sentence, she fainted again.

According to police, neighbours, kids, she must have narrated this 10 times, police first suspected murder… but soon felt that this was a case of suicide. I was too shocked. I had known him for almost 30 years now; he was doing very well in his field. Financially sound, caring family, kids doing well, no work pressures, … the reason… what could be the reason for him to take such a step…. what could have driven him to this stage….grief was every where…everyone was shocked… and as if everyone was trying to search for the reason.

I too was looking for an answer…

We stayed there for over a fortnight, no clues, police filed the case as suicide… his office was instrumental in not making this as a story for the newspapers…. “countless” this is how the condolences meeting could be best described, for people who attended the condolence and prayer meeting or those who wanted to talk…. for almost one week there was a line, actual line of people who came home and wanted to share how he changed/ influenced their lives… invariably ending conversation into a question mark for his actions.

She was still shocked, in hospital for a day , his parents sat like statues in their chairs… emotionless… blank looks… and their stare looked eerie… she was recovering… but she felt guilty, of leaving him alone that day… the more she thought… more it affected her…now she had only one wish…. either to follow him… or to find an answer for his drastic steps…Hypnotherapist working on her… was not of much help to her… she thought it was she who was responsible for his death.

I was constantly with her, may be in the same situation and trying to emerge bolder and calmer than her…

Police records had 3 remarks, before they finally closed the case:-

1) His Secretary: - A young lady, who claimed herself to be in love with him, and was willing to do anything for him… she had in her statement said…

“That evening after everyone left the office, I decided to sit back and do some work...I had decided to be a bold person that day… I respected him, loved him and wanted to marry him….age difference did not matter… his personality was such that I was always attracted towards him… and He was like a statue ... never talked a word extra, crossed the line… may be that made me go crazy after him… once I wrote a note/ letter to him… stating that I wanted to have baby from him… he called me in… tore the letter and said such mistakes can be dangerous for life, life is much more than such things… and at the end of the communication he said… “You are my daughter’s age… I feel morally responsible to help you; I will come and speak to your parents…

He actually came to my place with his wife and kids, it was like any other normal visit…. he wasn’t behaving like boss… My parents were still unaware of my thoughts… he later said to my father, about my blunders… My parents were in awe of him, for them he was like a “God” … He never mentioned about this ever to me/ my parents and never brought this matter in our work area. This made me crave for him… more…the more I decided to avoid, more intense were my feelings for him… my fantasies and day dreaming was now affecting my work.

I decided to quit from this job. He liked my decision. That was my last working day.

That evening I stayed a bit longer…I wanted to hug him and kiss him…. I just wanted to feel him…touch him…wanted to feel his bushy moustaches on my skin… his hand on my… I was ashamed of my thoughts, especially after meeting his family and his daughter… I like a fool assured myself… my hug and kiss will be from a daughter to a father…I will ask for the same…from him as parting gift.

I entered his cabin, standing near that window… looking out and talking to someone over phone… he was surprised to see me there… he completed his call and asked me the reason…instead to answering to his questions… I ran straight into him…hugged him and kissed him…unable to control my thoughts and promise that I made to myself… he was shocked… unable to move… his reflexes were slow; as he had not anticipated this… he just pushed me aside he was about to slap me but instead said… “You have insulted me”….tears came rolling from eyes… I just ran … ashamed of my self… the “pleasure” of hugging and kissing first love of my life… was gone.

Day after, I read about his suicide…. he ended his life next morning… I can not face his family, wife… may be it’s because of me he committed suicide…

2) A supplier-

Meeting him was always rewarding and not necessarily in terms of business that I got from his office…but for learning, meeting such a pleasant personality, and no nonsense type, charming, sensible and workaholic…Many a times I would just go to talk to him and get mesmerized by his talks.

Actually there were plans of diversification in his company … I had heard about these plans from others in the company, I knew that he is in –charge and the authority who will decide about the materials that I was supplying … order, if we/ I got; were in millions…and I would than never have to bother about new business for a while, servicing would take care of my needs…and he as usual never said a word about tenders, quotations… about needs… about who all were bidding… I tried very hard…

That evening we met, just before the office closed, his secretary was leaving that day… there was a small function to bid her farewell, I was given appointment just before this farewell…

I was my greedy best that day…. I offered him up to 20% of the deal if he was willing to share information and the amount was negotiable…all needed was the lowest bid and If I had any chance or was to get the order… of course this was a very polite and polished conversation…. he too showed me the door in a polite and polished manner…saying “you are the first one to think of me as corrupt and offer me bribes… that means I do not seem to be transparent enough… how I wish I was dead before I hear this”… I felt insulted; I left…though apologizing profusely… but I was so angry that day, I wanted to kill him… how such people can exist in this world bothered me… my ego was hurt….

Day after, I read about his suicide…. he ended his life next morning… I can not face his family, wife… may be it’s because of me he committed suicide…

3) His Boss.

Though I am the CEO of the company, I am sure he was more competent than me to be in this place… we were poles apart…he never touched alcohol… I could not live without it… he never looked at his secretary… I always found one who was ready to sleep with me… he always gave me those “sermons” and I always laughed them off… My “bachelorhood” had an edge over his “family” in this regard.

He hated me for my weaknesses…habits as he would often refer...

Our business thinking was similar, and may be that was one reason we were still together, rather a great team; or may be because of our postings… but we shared good relationship…

I was after him for his secretary… I wanted her to be in my office…. I kind of eyed her… but he always managed to save her from me… when I heard, she was leaving…I called him up to suggest that instead she could join my office… in fact on the last day, when I heard she was leaving , I called him up…. after office … I was kind of pestering him to help me get that girl…. last he said was “over my dead body”… and we had a good laugh… before we hung the phone.…. he ended his life next morning…I could not go to the hospital, crematorium… I can not face his family, wife… may be it’s because of me he committed suicide…

Police did not take much note of these; no one would go to police station even to misguide police with such FIR’s. My husband too was shown these declarations, the declarations from trio, comments and statements given by these people… He too found these baseless, we knew him well… he would not end his life for such things…he was beyond such small matters in life… motives had to be different.

Police simply closed the file as case of suicide with in 3 days of the incident.

I could not close this file… more I think about her, her life around him and their life together… his this step puzzles me…I also could not share comments/ declarations by 3 individuals to her… I did not want her to think more about cause or ill about those 3 who felt responsible and had on their own gone up to police and register/record/ say what they felt… had he not committed suicide because of any one of them or all of them… all those 3 statements looked so foolish when read and re-read.….

I was looking out for his diary…his habit that everyone knew, writing about everything, everyday… she also was searching for the same….but it was no where, all his belongings were there, from the pay-in-slip dated 3 years prior to this episode to the telephone bill that he paid on the last day …. 3 days later she was in the balcony and she just screamed… her huge rubber plant was missing!! Who could have taken/ stolen the rubber plant from the balcony? We found the same pot instead of the rubber plant; with burnt pages of a diary; his diary that we were looking for so long... pot was covered with some dry leaves… there were some more dry leaves behind other pots in the balcony…it was done as if someone very meticulously carefully had hidden things there, this pot was in their bedroom till late evening on that day, he came home and moved plants outside the bedroom stating that plants needed more sunlight… she helped him in shifting those pots, there were 3 plants in their bedroom, what happened to the plant, why was pot empty, who got dry leaves?

The Police was informed again…they came with same paraphernalia again, the dog squad and more people to investigate...

Now my husband too wanted to investigate further…

He called up the security person and asked him to recall what all had happened on that day, after his wife left for walk. He had seen her going for the walks and had also asked her “why was sahib not with her, and if he was unwell”… he could not recall much… may be he slept…

He than spoke to sweeper, and asked about pots and plants… he remembered very vividly that the day when all this took place and as there was police/ crowd he did not ask any questions… but he did carry a well grown rubber plant and two broken pots and some dried leaves…

Watchman was prompt to add that he too had seen that “green plant” thrown but he wasn’t sure who and when threw it there… according to sweeper it was big enough and could not have been thrown from the balcony… it was dumped near the garbage bin near the main gate of the building.

Mystery deepened further… who was behind this…. was this a planned murder???????

If the pots were shifted at night by both, who could have come after she left for morning walks? Why only certain pages were burnt? Did he burn those pages himself, after she left for the walk? As neighbours too had seen some smoke that morning? According to neighbours their was not much time gap between the fire/ smoke and her asking for help to open the door… can some one hang oneself so coolly when the others are trying to open the door? In the postmortem report; time of death was between 5.45to 6.15 am.

The Police dog this time after smelling the pot and spending much of his time in balcony hovered around the cupboard… barked endlessly at the almirah, his other findings suggested someone using window for movements? Who could have come in from window? How could he not get noticed? Was the plant thrown from window? His clothes and almirah was checked by us again… we found a lone photograph hidden (?) may be kept inside the locker … in safe… who was this person? The photograph was of a young man in his early twenties and shocking thing that bothered me most was person in photograph had some similarities / resemblances with him… person in photograph looked couple of years elder to his son. So many thoughts crossed our minds… though nobody said a word… eyes and doubts in them were same for all.

But this too did not take us any farther… the same man appeared to be on our doorstep with some money which he had borrowed from him… they had met while traveling and both were struck by similarities in them…they looked like father- son pair, and during this journey after hearing his life story, and exchange of their photographs which was more to show/ share their similarities with each one’s family, he had promptly offered him some financial help! This was so much like a fiction story… and the young man was devastated to hear the facts…about his death.

Strangely the mother son duo, were not aware of this…she knew so many minuscule things about him, around him, about secretary, boss but for this! She was not aware of this transaction, though there appeared a bank entry of this in his passbook.

We planned to construct what all could take place in an hour… if she left at 5.00 am and came back by 6.00 am and if the door was opened by say 6.25 am… time of death as per postmortem report was between 5.45 and 6.15 am. He could have been saved, had the doors opened earlier or if the keys were with neighbours. Why was he reluctant in sharing the new keys? Was there any real security threat? What made him change the lock? The broken door had too many finger prints… and most finger prints were identified yet a couple of them puzzled police… but the logical conclusion was, as there were so many people trying to open the door it was possible that imprints were all mixed. There were no fingerprints on the rope no fingerprints in room. How did he manage to hang himself without any prints? How could some one hang oneself without touching the rope? Height of the ceiling- fan and bed was such that no one can actually die/ hang oneself… that means he had pushed the beds to hang himself, who could have placed the beds back again?

Sweeper came at around 8.00 am, his usual time to pick the garbage and till than no one had noticed the rubber plant near the entrance of the building? Was it that someone came after this episode and tried to erase some impressions while others were busy with ….who could have entered?

Police now started suspecting this new man… they took his finger prints too! He was co-operating with police, and did not hesitate even once to give his imprints…he wanted to help that man who as stranger helped him in his financial crisis…can someone really give money in first meeting? Yes, resemblance in two of them was mind boggling… Police did not find much from this interrogation, but I wanted to meet his family, his origin…and I continued my probe with him, he may have sensed this and his entire family visited us within 2 days, including his in-laws!!…

His son, shattered by this episode he loved his father and worshiped him as GOD, too was kin to know more about this man. His resemblance was so much that police thought of him as his elder son! This statement was kind of bothering me… and I was ashamed of my own thoughts… when my friend was alive and was in his prime youth; than too I had never imagined or doubted him… now after his mysterious death, and this man I was lost…

His wife had to be admitted to the hospital, trauma and recent developments had un-stabilized her. His son pleaded me to be with them for some more time. His only hope was me… ailing and lost grand parents, shattered and broken mother and he, who had become overnight matured; he no longer looked a man of 22… Office, Police, Insurance, friends, and un- answered questions had added some years to his life in a week’s time.

Search, and reconstruction gave another shock to all of us, the duplicate set of keys were missing, so were keys of the bank locker, and when the bank was contacted for the details and lodging the complaints, locker was operated and records showed that he was the one who had gone to the bank and operated the locker in the afternoon at around 2.00pm just a day prior to this episode! This was a strange finding! No one seem to know about this, his driver said that they never had been to bank in last fortnight, office too was sure that he was never left from his office or had any unscheduled meeting, nor cancelled any…. office people were sure that all his appointments transacted as per schedule. Bank official were sure that unless the signature matches, the lockers are not operated… and in any case they knew their customer!

Change of lock was not even known to his son; he was busy with his internship and mostly stayed at the college hostel like most other boys. Carpenter who changed the lock was known to the family for at least a decade.

Once the locker was broken by bank and police authorities… to everyone’s horror; locker was empty! all that was there in locker was gone… though mostly jewellary, but certain documents, property related papers and some silver utensils… It was so difficult for his son list what all was therein… and she was like I do not care… my losses are bigger than that wealth… The Locker like her eyes stared blankly at us… their emptiness was as vast as the question… who did this! What all is gone… I thought flashed my mind too… does any household have a check-list… which could be a guide to survivours after such shocking events!

That evening, their next door neighbour came with evening newspaper, he was serious… and showed an ad in the news paper, front page in the box, which any one could hardly ignore, had address of their flat on sale, advertisement bore his name and telephone address. Were we to expect phone calls for property on sale now? Mere thought sent shivers in my spine… My husband and his son were the only brave people… trying to understand all that had taken place in last ten days…Police tried to locate the source of advertisement, and this was from his office… who from the office could be behind this? Office records showed that no one had ever contacted this evening newspaper even on telephone!

We were terrified now; if not for others…I was for sure, not sure what will follow next…

The Trio:-

The trio, were very happy now. The supplier had begged the contract and this ensured wealth enough to last two generations for him. The secretary had decided to marry the boss. According to her, she always looked for a father figure and hence the age difference hardly mattered. Her family was not present for this wedding nor did they support her stand. The Boss was happy man now; he found a young girl that too after so many years; who was almost half his age… young wife he always dreamt off…Three of them had a common secret… the one who knew their secret was dead, having hanged himself, for no reason…they felt relieved…little aware that soon they will be part of a storm… and their lives- relationships will be at stake. Their statements were now to go against them and who will believe them that they are not the real culprits, though they shared common secrets.

And will they all together with his family, ever find the face, the man, and the reason behind this?????

-: The Last PTM:-

-: The Last PTM:-

I lost my control and as if it was a reflex and habit for me… I slapped the teacher…I slapped her hard…! The sound of it made me realize what I had done and the future implications of the same…I shouldn’t have done that… I said “sorry” I joined my hands and touched her feet and I left…

It was the sound of slap that brought me out of the trans … I was shivering, cold feet, and did not know what to do next…. teacher in front of me was now surrounded by team members and they were trying to figure out what happened… for them they had just heard the “shot” before they walked inside….and amidst the chaos I left fuming… people around me were too stunned and were not even in a position to move, may be they wanted to catch/ capture me and hand me over to police… but could not take any actions nor could they decide what to do next.

I went up to my vehicle and drove endlessly…. I was lost, disillusioned by life – the society-school, teacher and the way they were treating parents… parents like me… SO what if we were not so educated like others, like other parents of school… so what if we were not highly qualified…and well placed in society… but we too are an integral part of the society.. It’s all kinds that make the world and we are not?? “Dangerous people” my mind was brewing with thoughts and head was about to explode…. I just parked my vehicle in the parking lot and rested my head on the steering wheel… this is what I remember of that day….Is this how a school should treat a parent who drives Ambulances, or to say specifically carries “dead” to crematorium?

How I reached home is still not known to me, but when I reached home… a crowd welcomed me… there were Press reporters and Police… I was arrested for slapping a teacher and I knew the headlines in the news paper next morning…

· Do we deserve this for building the future leaders of the society?

· Is this what the society has to offer to the noblest profession on this earth?

· What has this society come to??
Policing needed in the school PTM?

· Now a parent assaults a teacher!! As if students playing truant was not enough

My neighbor’s were shocked and so were my co workers… my boss was there at the police station and he was the one who helped me most in getting the bail… ….

Everybody asked me the same question… again and again…with increasing disbelief “Did you really hit the teacher….” and “I cannot believe that you hit the teacher….”

I tried to recall what had happened prior to my actions on that day…

I was called for a parent teacher meeting. My child was not doing so well in studies; he went to a private school. This was his fourth year in this school. When we shifted in this area, he was enrolled to school in grade 2 that particular year. I had briefed the Principal, Teachers and Support Staff about the trauma that my child had been through… and I also shared that “our’s was a single parent home”. I had lost my spouse in a fire mishap that had gutted so many homes in our locality and may be our’s was the only house where there was minimum of loss, only one life…. While all others had a story to tell rather, horror nightmare to share …I had gone out with my child for a movie, may be that saved us both. My wife was not interested in the movie and preferred to stay at home to treat us later with a surprise meal. When we reached home what we saw was just ashes. Fire/ flames still haunt my child. My child remained dazed for months missing his mother; “trauma” is what his case paper said. I too was disturbed and together, we were trying to build our home again…in a new locality; Away from the Past. All this was told/ informed to school and school promised to support us, to rebuilds our lives.

On that day, when a tanker with petrol collided with an electrical pole near our locality, people could barely escape the uncontrollable fire caused by spilled petrol spreading everywhere…almost 80 people were roasted alive that day… My child felt guilty, guilty that he agreed to the fact that two of us would go for the movie, he wished/ longed to be with his mother…he was barely 8 years old then … I too suffered the guilt feeling…….But all that is past

I worked with “emergency dept” as driver who carried people from accident sites to hospitals and emergency wards, or the dead, dead bodies to crematorium. I was on emergency call….as Always…I wonder why and how these many accidents take place everyday. With these many safety norms and rules, why people still manage to be in these situations…. Also how these accidents and mishap change the lives of people involved. I see dead, nearly dead, crippled or sufferings everyday.

My child most of the time was alone, he now was lonely and was into a shell which was becoming like back of a turtle…appeared strong from outside but soft from inside. He knew my job was differently demanding … most of the times… I reached home to leave again… one never knows when will an accident take place and one never knows if that person will make it to the hospital or not…

During each funeral processions, the road seems never ending, though its the same, same lanes, same busy traffic…most of the times as we wait at the corner of the lane for the dead body to be brought to the vehicle…we hear the “cause of death” and it’s the metallic thin wall that separates the driver and the cabin, us from the emotive family…But do we really drive the vehicle, without emotions? Specially when people with us are so charged up with emotions, the journey through these eyes and in ambulances are very different on otherwise busy roads… Does one ever think of all these things? Maybe grieving is very personal…

That day, when I reached school, I was late by 20 min. I was on duty, the funeral procession was delayed… the person dead, was a very young man who was not even married, was the only son… and mother did not want to part with the son… it was heart breaking……. to see the poor father trying to keep his wife away from the dead body…who himself was not aware as to what should he be doing, being with spouse who needed him most or… we were mute witness to these episodes almost everyday. I could not tell anyone that “please hurry up” – I need to be there in school for my child…

I reached school 20 min late, the conversation started on a negative note… no one asked me the reason for my being late, this teacher showed in all possible ways, that she was unhappy as the meeting was delayed and now it would overlap with another appointment and the list of “issues” with my child were endless… I was meeting this teacher for the first time, she had joined the school recently…the way she looked at me, I understood that she was trying to be as polite as possible, she was uncomfortable talking to a person who was not even dressed like other parents, who looked, uneducated and was rather too simple,,, the security guards in school appeared smart partially because of the uniform that was given to them.. I was not haggard but style, I could not even afford…. may be she did not even know my profession… I felt, had she known that… she would not even talk to me…

She started in an authoritarian voice, taking charge of the situation; very confident… she ensured that my apology for being late was not even heard. Before I could complete… “I am sorry for being late…” She just said, “Don’t waste my time in these formalities” I have to complete this today and the list is too long…

“I am aware that your son was given admission to this school on humanitarian grounds, your son gets concession in fees, while others in his class pay much more than what is paid by him… mind you this is not scholarship…” …the way she said this… lowered my self esteem. I was thinking of my child now… what he must be going through in class everyday... She continued with same tone/ speed… was this empathetic? Was this said as concern or mere fact? She continued; about how my child has ‘…. still not come up to the mark in his class, and how he is the only one lagging behind in the class….how because of him the class average was going down and may be school results would get affected…’ She said, ‘...it was a school meant for performers…’.the monologue still continued now on my child’s behaviour ‘…How he stares blankly at the teachers… who are unaware whether he understood the concept or is lost…’

I was not much worried, till last year there were not many issue, in fact all teachers, if they had to say something for him was, “loner- with poor- average academics” His class teacher was a gentleman and spoke affectionately. I doubt if he too knew me/ my profession, but he was like this to almost everyone; re-assuring to everyone about their own wards.

This teacher and her observations were different, I wanted to ask what were teachers doing to help him, wasn’t this precisely is the job of the teacher, to help student to learn, work on his weaknesses and … but I could not open my mouth, her confidence rather non empathetic stance overpowered… she continued... “..He sits in the class like a statue, lifeless… she said… but that’s no excuse to “just sit”…. She was getting angry now… I wonder why he comes to school. I doubt if she had detailed history of my child. She was talking about “now and then” situation. Everything was right in its own perception yet was not true, mere factual; it did not gel with the larger picture. I was listening quietly… almost lost in my own world, not aware of what to do, say and help my child.

She started asking me questions like, ‘… do you teach him, do you spend time with him, do you take him out, do you…’…it was more of accusation than that of question, also it was more of monologue… wherein my answers were not needed … I gathered courage and said , almost ordering her to stop…

She was taken aback; she sat uncomfortably in her chair and said

“Ok…” what is it that you want to say…

I wanted to start from the beginning, how my child came to this school, what kind of trauma was he going through, how I was able to spend more time with him…I wanted to talk about the van that I drive- Ambulance , as driver, how we drive carefully yet filled with hopes from the site of accident sites, how on reaching hospitals, doctors and professionals take care, deal with the grave situations before, “ No Hopes”- “dead” or …for every critical case… irrespective of cause of accident, mistakes, mishaps… we never drive slowly or do our best if a driver who was speeding and meets with accident… we are no one to decide, we do our best in any given situation…

.My child, certainly was not so critical, he met with an accident long back, trauma of that event was shadowing him… but he needed time, more time to recover, may be he was different than other kids of his age…or what I go through when other in the lanes of the city drive for fun, joy, when I carry dead to crematorium… or when a marriage processions stops, for van to go further… gives way…to life….all these were in my mind but all I could say was

“Please try and understand him… may be he is weak but ….”

Before I completed my sentence she took charge of the conversation, again “you know your child cannot perform, he cannot be in this school, class, and he must change the school… he is bad influence on others… we do not want others to get affected by him…. he does not understand, what we teach…” she was again on her monologue trip…

My child was not so bad, I knew about his academic weaknesses, but behaviorally he was kind, gentle and emotional with friends; though he had fewer; they loved him. In no way he was bad influence on any one…. I felt strongly to protect my child… I asked her again, what made her say “he was a bad influence”….

She could not just take this… she felt challenged, she was at loss of words, she took a pause… waited for some time and said… firmly… arrogantly

“Ok, I will explain… it’s like every one is running, you are in a race, race in your class, and he is slow, slow as dead , he is like dead body … you have to be with him…wait for him to reach a point, while others are already there…. its not possible to hand hold all the time…it’s like, one has to be with the dead body… to take care …till disposed…you feel sorry…”

I could not hear further…rather I did not allow her to complete, may be she wanted to say something different, may she would come to a different point and may be she was genuinely trying to help me and my child….but the disgust and the way in which she started talking about my child and comparing him with dead…my reflexes were sharp and rest is known to you all….

My Story…

It was my first visit to Boston, though I had been in this country for many years now, my relationship with this man was to bring in some spring in my otherwise dry life. I had made him the most important man of my life… I came as illegal migrant to this country from Argentina, and do not ask me how we reached Argentina… from…Ok let me not get into that past…

I was looking through the window and as the never ending taxing of the plane ended I was the first one to get up, he looked at me questioningly, as if I was not aware of the rules of flying … but our relationship was at that level of strange category… wherein he could frame the questions… but not ask them… In all relationships how I wish, this stage stayed for a longer time.

He was taking me to his home for the first time, he was single and his mother was one who was pressurizing him for a wedding, unheard in this country. We knew each other for some years now. Initially it was an one sided love affair from my end. He wanted me to meet his mother; she was to approve of me, for my past was so glorious!! Was I nervous meeting his mother… was I in a hurry to finish this visit? Why was my behaviour so strange…?

He was the third man in my life; I had met him first, on the first day of my job in his office and on the third day after I returned from my honeymoon, with the second man in my life. From the first two I have children. Rather I was not even aware of any thing that was happening to me when I first delivered, I was barely 13, my mother was single and a widow and we stayed in Afro-American area meant for poor… I was shifted to juvenile home and after that I lost touch with my mother. She was not a bad mother, she was worried about me, my life, her life, and our never-seem-to-be-ending poverty… my father was brought to this country and was promised safe arrival in USA by his agent. Little did anyone know that Argentina was not USA and life was to take sharper turns before we land up in this dreamland. After his death, how we reached USA was a mystery to me… rather is still a mystery. When I look at my USA passport … I wonder how my mother managed all that… and that Afro-American locality…

I was not aware of what happens in physical relationships, even the boy with whom … “I slept” … this is how it was referred after that for a long time … I was not even aware… it just happened one afternoon. We were part of a project,” Cleaning Neighborhood”. I was with him, we started talking about our school and life and as I still had some more time after the project, we went to his house … and last I remember is… we slept together… next month he was to move to a different state as his mother, who too was single like my mother and had a job in a hospital. I came to know about my child in 10^th week of my pregnancy, my mother was shocked, abortion was not the option, and I did not remember anything about that boy except for his name. Also it took some time for me to really understand what was happening to me, my mother explained that “sleeping together makes a baby”. When I next slept with a man, things had changed….

I am told that my mother died, I am not very sure whether she actually died or was dead because of the stigma, I started studying and may be because I was brilliant… reached college. I completed my graduation and did my Masters with Law. He, the second man in my life, too was studying with me, may be my story/ past made him melt for me… and though I was initially afraid of this relationship, eventually I got into it. I married him.

It was after our honeymoon when I started working with a firm, I met the third man of my life…. he was “Prince Charming” … how could no one ever fall in love with him. But apparently no one had ever fallen in love with him; he was a hunk, stud, names that one can think of… I tried to dig his past… was told that “he is mama’s boy”! Exploring this man made me fall in love…. I was suffocating in the relationship that I got into...

For hours I could stare at him, ogle at him, appreciate his long fingers and pink nails, broad shoulders and biceps… his lean yet athlete like body…I started thinking of “sleeping’ with him…but was afraid of saying anything, verbalize my thoughts… I was ashamed of myself… how I could think of another man in my life, within a week after my marriage- honeymoon….. My husband was handsome man too! My friends envied me for finding such a hunk as husband … but they had not seen my boss….

For some days when I did not get much for or against my boss, I started thinking that he was “gay” and checked with other employees inconspicuously about his “orientation”. I was reprieved with the fact that my doubts were baseless.

I was so much engrossed in him… that I started talking about him to my husband…. I described him as a “man” he should know. Eventually both became very good friends and it was in the fourth year of our friendship, I blurted out “I like him’ during a lunch meeting with a client. I had one more child by now.

He was shocked yet the expression in his eyes said that he was “Pleased” I noted….

I decided to divorce my husband… for the first love of my life, my husband and he; both were shell shocked. He still wasn’t aware that it was for him that I have decided to divorce my husband. My husband wanted to know the reason…. and I had none what so ever… he was caring, loving loved my first child too, his family was so supportive… in fact they suggested if we could go for some Counselling. He checked with me if our married life was Happy!! I could not tell him that I fantasize about my boss/ his friend during our intimate moments nor did I want to share my love for his friend. I just remained silent.

My husband never doubted me … but our divorce strained my relationship with my boss too… though he was never close to me, the distance grew… he was more concerned for his friend.

He started looking at me “differently” after my ex- husband had remarried. This was “worth the wait”. I met my ex- husband occasionally as he was father of my second child, there was no bitterness in my divorce, but somewhere it was hurting… to both. After his marriage meetings became distant. My boss, now the third man in my life, my first love, changed. I had heard from the “love” of my life for the first time… I felt like a teenager…I wanted to tell the world that I was in love… my first child was half my age now and I kept my feeling under my wings… I wanted ‘him” to say something- to initiate the talk, lead the life for me…and the path was painfully slow .Or was there more pressure on him from his mother… He confessed once to me… that he liked my company and this changed my life….

He once, started talking about his house in Norfolk, town that touched the Atlantic Ocean. He was talking about his past for the first time to me….how from his house he “saw” the light house… the beautiful light house in otherwise grey and cold winters… and how he imagined a “light house” in his life… which he saw in me on the day I joined … but was disappointed to note that, I was newly married! His friendship with my husband was mainly to stay in touch with me/ us. He never wanted to harm us, and our relationship... Our divorce was disturbing but, satisfying event for him and now he was able to share his views about him with me…

After we came out of the aircraft, I was more nervous, I found him serious and pre-occupied. As if this visit was a strain on him. His house was exactly the way he had described. His mother was not at home when we reached; I was admiring the light house with him. He, watching me… I knew that… and I watching the beautiful light house…

The door opened quietly, I knew she had come…. I waited for a while, for him to introduce me… her gaze was piercing. It shook me. If felt guilty for no reasons… I had never seen such powerful gaze; I tried to be normal and continued talking to her about weather and her house….

He was also uncomfortable; dinner got over quietly. I could not believe that she was the one who was forcing him to getting married. May be he had shared my past with her and she was uncomfortable with this. May be she was reluctant that her son gets married to a person who has daughter half her age….or divorced a husband for no reason…

As if she was reading my mind…she asked me about my daughter…she wanted to know more about her, if she ever asked me about her father, about my marriage and subsequent divorce and reason… I was getting tense as the question continued …she wanted to know more about who raised my daughter in her initial years, was my mother instrumental in he upbringing… how close was she to my ex-husband, and if she calls him as “dad” and how they meet now… I answered all questions with utmost honesty… I never wanted to lie to her. In fact I never lied to anyone ever, to my mother when she asked me “with whom I slept” or to my daughter … when she first asked me about her father…

She asked me where I stayed as kid, whether I remembered the boy and his mother. I found questions strange. I had seen that boy, only once. We worked together for that project, on that day, may be the only reason I choose to be with that boy was he looked decent, and was not Black! I had no clue whatsoever how and where he was… I repeated “ I slept”… before I could complete … she said...if I could refer that as an accident…. you are not to be blamed for what happened with you at that tender age….

No one had ever talked with me about this issue in this manner not even my mother… or the counselor at the juvenile home, for most girls “ sleeping” was common… it took them my childhood to understand that I was innocent… but by then my childhood had a curse… I was a laughing stock in classroom, size of my belly was talked every where… I did not know whom to go and talk about my feeling, my counselor wanted me to “talk to my child” and I felt “no one hear me”

I was talking about those years of my life for the first time… after may be I lost my mother… I could talk to her… she was later, but convinced that I was innocent… I kind of relived those years.

He had never asked me about my past, I was rather blunt when someone asked about my children; I would blurt the truth without mincing words… My ex husband, when we were studying together in college, felt sorry for me… sympathized with me and he fell in love with me, made me his life partner… for me it was not love for sure. I wonder why I had committed marriage to him.

When I met him, in his office after I came from my honeymoon, I was transfixed, I was in love…. I longed for him and it took me so many years to take the decision, and wait for him to approach me… what made me wait? Why was he still unmarried? Why was he waiting for permission from his mother… bothered me but never asked… now that I was with his mother and she asked these questions…? I re-lived those years, agony that I went through … and felt humiliated. Tears rolled my eyes…

Is this the “price” one has to pay for being honest? I felt my decision to divorce my ex- husband for this man was wrong… he or his family never “questioned” me… rather they supported me, accepted me unconditionally… here this lady was not only questioning me but also was trying to trace years that I spent after words. She wanted to know all about my life, my pain, all that was buried long back… I was a different human being, had forgotten the scar that it left on me… I felt victimized…felt why would one want to know all this and hurt…

I left the table and went straight to my room. The conversation stopped. There was pin drop silence and the mother son duo also left for their respective rooms.

Next morning we were to leave… I wanted to be alone; I hated the man I loved… I hated to be in this situation… I craved to be with my ex husband … his family… “How could Love be so hurting”… there were many attempts of conversation from mother and son…But I was silent, did not speak to anyone, I was hurt…I was crying… bleeding… I, myself was responsible for this… in earlier situations I was not responsible at least! … this feeling made me sicker and tears started rolling again… I was meek- wek… my strength and struggle of previous years had gone for a toss… the question that bothered me was… “What made me do this to self…

We left …I was all alone… now… he did not exist in my life as co –passenger also.

I came home, my daughter looked at me… my expression said everything… her hug said… what words could never have communicated… she was darling… may be she was the only partner of the struggle that I went through and my soul mate… … May be we were more of friends than mother and daughter… she kept comforting me and I kept pouring my heart out… I was yelling screaming… sobbing, we cried together for hours… and slept in each others arms.

We got up late next morning; I did not want to go to that office ever again… I was drafting my resignation… my daughter came and gave me an envelope. I opened that it was a very short letter dated yesterday; I started reading it mechanically…

“Dear Daughter”,

I am glad that we found you…. it was crucial for me to ask those questions, to ensure that our wait, was worth. It wasn’t like our attempts to search you… we were unable to locate you and your mother… Yes, My son was not aware of his actions…he too innocently told me about, how you had spent that afternoon… it was an accident. When his friend from the same locality wrote … about “the girl with the belly” and how they left the place… we realized…. and tried to search for you and your mother… he promised me to search “his Love- guilt” and only then marry… or not marry ever.

It was after your divorce he told me about you, he does not know the reasons of your divorce, nor he wanted to disturb your married life, he in fact respected your husband for accepting you… he watched his daughter from distance and did not want to harm your , his daughter, your relationship with your family….

It was only after your divorce and your communication to him about “your love” towards him… we decided the meeting. I am glad that we found each other…

Rest of the words melted, there were many more lines…. but they got washed away in tears… my daughter, too was reading with me…the door bell was ringing and so was phone… may be a bad dream was over…we hugged each other… unable to decide the direction to follow...