What are words....

Welcome to the world of Black and Whites.... Let it "Add" colours to your life....It's in these black and white words we look for colours of life, meanings, relationships and in these relationships make us look at society- world around us. We start visualizing these characters , be it in black or in white, be it in our thoughts or in our actions, we start looking for them... believing in them and look at the world around us with these shades.

Everyone knows there nothing black and nothing white... we live by thoughts in our minds... yet we create shades of grey and weave colours of life!!

Our minds, these words have amazing powers of creating a rainbow around us....

Divorce

-: Divorce:-

When he came as Branch Manger in this town, everyone instantly liked him, pleasant personality, clean shaven and well mannered. He spoke fluent English and had a body language that typically showed arrogance. But his behaviour was contradicting his body language, always polite… gentle and that smile. Though he was in his late fifties, I am sure people believed him to be in his forties.

The day he joined, he made a speech, while taking charge from his colleague, and our ex- boss. The gist of the speech was, “I am no nonsense type person and together as team would show our strengths rather than factions that we usually get into of class- I to IV, leadership positions, or administration and so on… I believe in talking straight, I do not need mediators to talk to the person and I would love the same if one wants to talk to me, approach me directly.”

Each member of the group who attended this meeting perceived what he said; based on their past experiences and the class they were serving in, peon of the office felt… “He will not last” while customer relation dept people were happy to have a face which looked glossy!! Class three union people decided to be tough with him as they felt that he was a management dummy and had a special task, to clean the system. Likewise there were some neutral too…they wanted to experience him and were not in a hurry to rate him.

I had no choice; I was his personal secretary and could not be on either side… though I belonged to a class and union! By the end of the next day, he lost his cool when a union representative met him and tried to tell him how they, their union only worked efficiently and how he could rely on them, he also offered help in locating a house for him and invited him for Dinner that night. I was listening till this point very intently, such conversations are very entertaining and if documented may become the best of laughter shows.

He received a call from zonal office during this conversation and they needed some data, he passed the phone to me for the same and, that is how I lost the link in the conversation…. last I heard was him saying “thank-you, you may leave” a bit rudely almost closer to insult. There were three versions of this meeting. one that actually happened , one that boss stated and one that union leader spread by word of mouth… the last one was juicy and was entertainment for all for couple of days. He was sick of it by the second day… and said to me… “Chor hai Saab… kaam to karma nahi hai… or chale aate hai… he would have continued further but, may be he realized I too was from a union and this version would create unrest… he stopped.


By the end of the first month, people found him, rude, arrogant and impossible to deal with; somehow, I was saved from skirmishes and the only reason I could think of for this safety was my English, may be I understood what he wanted to say and in many cases I even became his translator. My colleagues found this also strange that we actually had not many issues. He stayed in guest house for a month, and now was looking for a house in this city. Initially he wanted a two bedroom place, but suddenly from last week, he asked me to help him locate a three bedroom flat.

He often would talk about his son and wife, how brilliant was his son and how he topped this exam and got that scholarship and how his wife how is an “expert” is busy and is in demand…and finds it difficult to cope with all I his absence. Staff was actually finding this part very difficult; they felt he was bragging about achievements of his son, wife and some actually tried to find from our office in that city if all that he claimed was true!

Most things about him were true! Including the feeling that our office had for him… with addition of one more thing, that he never wants people to visit his home, His professional and personal lives are different. This information relived most and they soon started framing strategies to deal with his “idiosyncrasies”. Now our office was at war with him and it was fun to watch the issues that were being raised… He was always correct about policies, the way he worked, people could hardly avoid work. Typically he would call someone… appreciate his work and efforts he put in office , check the pending work with him, and give him a new assignment, if there was excuse or pending work he would give them a deadline and offer his personal help. In one case he actually sat at the table of dispatch clerk and helped him post the pending parcels. The dispatch clerk never refused work that was allotted him after this and his desk never had pending work. Most people just offer verbal help, He always did all that he could do help the person. Despite growing disputes, and hush-hush tones talking about conspiracy against him, Branch in the first quarter did very well.

With me, he always talked during dictations that he gave , or while discussing reports; between intermittent meetings and phone calls…I too had found him selfish… egoist and person who never listened, he never asked me about my family, children, parents… he always talked about his son and wife mostly about his mother/father.

Once there was a silly typing error from my side, I accept it was my mistake and I should have been careful, his reaction while pointing the mistake was “you are also one amongst many- so what if I talk to you in friendly manner… it still does not give you any right to commit mistakes… he went on and on… I was naturally hurt. I just left the cabin and sat quietly … How could he be so rude? Once he called me for a dictation, I was busy with something, and took longer to reach his cabin, I opened the door, may be without waiting for his permission… he was facing wall, back at the door and was speaking to someone over phone... conversation seemed intense. When he noticed me, instead of asking me to sit… he yelled “get out- I expect you to seek permission before you enter my cabin”… I am sure the person at he other end too heard this. I was hurt. I was disturbed with his reaction and decided to keep distance in my interaction with him.

A fortnight after this episode it happened so that we had to travel together for the official meeting and though I was not entitled for a higher class he booked me with him, we stayed in the same hotel shared the same room… I found this behaviour strange; honestly after that last episode with him I had changed. With me, he was same and may be he was even unaware of what was in my mind… he was my boss not my friend that I could tell him that I was upset with his behaviour. Five days together were totally different, I saw him from close angles , his habits and his ways… he was like that with his boss too… in a meeting he reacted in the same manner with his boss… who very politely reminded him about a training session they had attended together in past… he was quiet. I learnt a technique of dealing with him.

Evenings on last two days were relatively free and he did lot of shopping, I was amazed with all the purchases that he made for his wife and son. He was buying gifts for them, like this was the last time that he was getting things for him. He had to purchase two new bags. He was to come back after a week to office, he went straight to his home from the venue and I had one week to tell the entire office about his “love” for his wife and kids.


His return got delayed by a week as his mother suffered a paralytic stroke, he was visibly upset but he did not let this affect the work, next week he was again on leave. Office was unexpectedly kind towards him, some actually called him up and were pleasantly surprised when he answered their calls and was not abrupt or rude.

Upon his return, he looked preoccupied and was in hurry to find a place for him, that week he concentrated only on shifting to a new place, he managed a cook and a full time servant too… later he told me that his parents were to shift here and stay in this town… on his own, he continued that his wife was busy…Getting more work, she got new projects and she was not able to handle illness and work. He narrated in detail about how last fortnight when there was hospitalization, she could not complete the assignments and she almost lost the opportunity of life time. But eventually together they managed.

He talked about their marriage and talked endlessly about their relationship. That week , I was labeled as “best friend” of the boss… and people wanted to know more about his family , life, and his affair…. with his own wife. Some were jealous and envied him, some compared him with themselves and some decided to change their relationships with their spouses! In fact lunch time now was official “spouse- praise time” irrespective of gender.
Branch continued to march ahead with new business, sales, profits and zonal office seemed happy with this progress.

Finally, his parents arrived in the city; I also asked him if I could be of some help. He was sure that he did not want anyone to miss office and be with him for shifting- unpacking. He shared with me that, cook will take care of lunch and helpers will take care of unpacking… was I supposed to share this information with staff, puzzled me…? He did not mention of his wife and son coming with his parents in his talks.

It was now almost a month and every thing appeared to be settled. He never invited anyone to his place nor did he encourage if anyone mentioned. He would give excuse of visit to doctors, physiotherapists and so on…Some people from staff wanted to check on information that they had got for him and were relaxed when the information matched. They even checked with me, if I had that privilege!

Later, that month he was to attend a meeting aboard, he was to be out of town for 8 days… he looked tense, reason being who will be with his parents…his wife could not come as some evaluation team was to come exactly during that time… his son had exams and his sister was away on a holiday. First he planned to cancel his trip, but may be his zonal office friends must have guided him against this as this was his chance to get in touch with international branch officers and staff, and he too was likely to get one in future. Ultimately he found one more caretaker for his parents who would be with them at night also.


He left for his 8 days trip, last day while he was leaving the office, I mentioned that, he should not worry about situation here…. “I would go everyday and find out if they need anything” … He said very curtly… “ thanks… but even if you cannot make it… that’s fine… there are now 3 people to look after them… may be he was reading my face… while he said this… so at the end he concluded… “What I mean is you too have responsibilities and commitments … but if can make it once… that would be fine”…I cursed myself for the offer that I had made.

He waited for my expression to change… but I was stunned.


For, first three days after he left, I was wondering whether I should be visiting his place or not, later I decided to visit and took my wife also, she could talk to his mother I thought .


We found the place with some difficulty; he had given me a different lane number and had forgotten to give his residential telephone number! We reached home, the door was open. One old man was being helped by attendant to walk… we introduced ourselves and he let us in. They knew that I might come in…!! This surprised me… House reflected taste… the living room was well decorated. On the bed in living room was his mother… we sat and chatted for a while… we talked about whole lot of things, as if we knew each other for ages, they both were craving for human touch, they were really happy to see us. When we sought the permission to leave, both requested to sit for some more time. His mother asked the attendant to get some refreshment for us….

My wife asked her about, their daughter in law- his wife… and how envious was she about her work and profile.

There was a long pause, than she said… may be he has not shared this with you, He is like that only…“Last year he got divorced…she said in one go... and continued without waiting for any resposne...he is very attached to his son, but the custody of son is with her…we do not know the reason of their divorce… because she is a good girl, she never wanted us to leave that house, and he never wanted us to stay with her, specially after divorce. She is not even working... I knew her from her childhood… in fact we shifted to her house after she lost her parents, as house was in very good locality. We sold our house and moved in there. This is the reason after divorce we had to shift here… we are torn between two. We not only miss our grand son but also our daughter-in-law… One reason for him to take transfer to this place is divorce…

Reason of divorce is still unknown to us, but I know my son is eccentric… My daughter tried to intervene and now he has stopped communicating with her too… otherwise she could have come and stayed with us… there were tears in her eyes… we tried to lighten the situation helplessly, not knowing how to deal with this information.
When we were to leave, she pleaded… do not let him know that I have talked all this to you, he does not like this… he will suspect you of talking about his personal life to all… I am sorry I should not have said all this… but I miss my house, my daughter in law, I miss human touch, your wife reminded me of her… I got very emotional… think this as request from a mother to a son…

We comforted her and promised her that this visit itself would be a secret.

I was numb, my wife was shocked, we walked quietly back home. I decided against the temptation of giving this information to people in the office, they would have loved this story! I was feeling sorry for the old parents and did not want to hurt their feelings. It took lot of my energy to go to office next day and not to talk about this “gossip”.


He was back to office on scheduled date; I acted to be very serious and apologized for not being able to go to his place as I had guests which kept me tied to my schedules. He seemed very happy… rather relived…


He said, Oh, don’t worry about such small matters… My wife and son, both were here…she managed to get some time off from her project, my parents had gala time….in any case they miss her more than me… and you know about my shopping impulse… they all liked there gifts… they were thrilled… they left by the morning flight… I am glad that they could make and were here… they liked this house also very much. In fact my wife will join us here as soon as the project she is involved with gets over…I must find out where are they now and he took his mobile out to call, he continued…but I had stopped listening to him blabber a long ago….I knew the reason for their divorce…

-: Award:-

The stadium was bursting with people, Lights, Camera, and Action… all eyes were now on the presenter, to declare the “Life Time Achievement Award.”…. presenter knew for sure that the center of attraction would soon change… from limelight, the presenter would slip back into backstage and may be forgotten…. what people were to remember was acceptance speech that the award winner will deliver. Yet, like a true professional, presenter tried to bring in suspense, element of surprise, curiosity and tried to be bamboozling audience…

But how could I not know it ….yes it was Me, who was to be the recipient of the life time achievement award, the youngest ever! I had given my consent, I had accepted the award, I needed to prepare myself for the “award” and speech, and I was the one who was craving for the same…. I needed it… I desired that for my ego, for completing my achievement tasks …My work was such, my contribution….

I was in my own thoughts… when the thunder struck… I am awakened by the deafening applaud and thousand of eyes, camera focusing me… I can see this all on the big screens put up for the convenience of the large number of people, but I still can ‘not move… I am thrilled to hear my name…. I could see people near me standing, clapping and the stadium rose for standing ovation…..

It was me alone sitting in the entire auditorium…Was I acting? Was this really me? I slowly started getting up… as I position myself and start the walk towards the stage, applaud, cheer groups, and firecrackers…. filled the stadium…my walk towards stage was as heavy as my heart… mixed emotions, bliss on face, turmoil in heart…. my few actions were robotic… I just followed... I just did what I was asked to do…

I climbed the steps from the center of the stage, and to reach the center where the presenter was standing I turned towards the audience and walked backwards waving at them…. what impelled me to do this was not known to me also, my be my reflex… but that encouraged the crowd to cheer more and more… now whistles and high-pitched screaming of youngsters were difficult to get distinguished from the claps, music…still there was order in that chaos…pleasing “ego” of any recipient…

I kissed the award and thanked one and all…and started moving…presenter immediately took charge of me; he hugged me… and said… “Address’ the audience….His job was done… his microphone was now in my hands… I do not know how long it took for me to stand up from my place to walk unto stage and receive the award and have the mike in my hand… Crowd was still standing and applauding… someone sat… and slowly the excitement phase of the ceremony was over… crowd settled in no time, as if it was a clue for them … may be they were tired too… of clapping, cheering, it was late at night and the last in the category of awards… function would end after I finish… may be a small thank-you note from the organizer… was the only thing left on Agenda.

I took the “Award” in my hand… and stood there… I was silent… my eyes had tears… people could see them on big screen… I wiped them with sleeves of my suit… my voice was breaking… I had to form words, there were no dialogues written for me… I had to say something…. I took out the paper from my pocket …

I started to read…. The paper read… “I am privileged recipient of this award…I dedicate this to all my …” and did not complete the sentence… instead I just threw the paper away… Audience who were preparing to leave… took note of this… everybody settled….I could see that they were puzzled.

There was a pause, audience looked with heavy heart… they sensed something… I could feel their nerve… and I started… again… without paper…

I started;

This is me, my heart speaking to you. I do not need crutches of paper to stand in front of people who love me, adore me in any role, and today let me open my heart to you...applaud started again… people settled again and with their ears for me…

“This is to all those special people who have made me, this towering personality, who have created a special place in their hearts for Me, who eat, drink, dance, and live, for me, worship me… ”… I am actually a Dwarf… listen to me… and than decide do I deserve this? Do I need this? Let me complete… after I stop… I will await your decision and than accept this award…

Respected members of Jury, I am not discourteous to the award, to you all for efforts people have put in.…. I Value this award Utmost and hence this confession…

Yes, I am a Dwarf:-

When I look at the glorious past of Life time achievement award recipients and I look at me, I feel what my contribution is? “Acting”? How does one define Life time achievements…?

Tell me, “How high would you go if you knew you wouldn’t fall”… I do not want to go that high, nor do I want to fall… I want to be firmly seated, rooted deep into your hearts…minds and just need your love… NO AWARDS… This is the time to be honest to self, and show the people who love you, who care for you…who worship you… “Who I am”…

I am a simple man, like you all…. I was born in a family of five and was youngest… by age twelve, I realized that I had “looks” that were different and “voice” that was “deep”… I ignored the world… my world, my parents, my siblings, my friends … I was to become narcissistic by age 16. I was in love with self… I ignored studies and failed….

Can I be the role model? Will you all ask your child to follow me and loose the track, get lost in this sparkle and glamour… I am sure NO ONE would want …

My parents, My family still supported me, they wanted to help me… for a family of educators this was a rude shock, I have the distinction of being first failure in our entire clan, where every one else was in top ten… I continued my journey backwards… I stooped to levels … now I shudder to think… if my children do the same….In school my smile, my face, could no more save me from the pranks that I played… the cute little fellow was now a notorious teenager who no one wanted…but my family supported me…had faith in me…were trying to help me…Did I need help at that point in time?. How true is this saying…”You can not help anyone unless he needs help...”

I was Glamour struck, I was a liar, I failed on promises that I made to myself, and three words that played always a tune to my ears were…Light… Camera… Action…

My Action was to run away from home…. at 20 …never to return there…For months I was noticing the ads my parents gave in news papers requesting me to come back. For months I changed address, rooms, shelter to avoid them, to avoid police search…Money was no concern for me… I had stolen enough to last me 6-8 months.

Can I be the role model? Will you all ask your child to follow me and loose the track, get lost in this sparkle and glamour… I am sure NO ONE would want …

I was 24, and was staying with friends and extras… in this line, when I got my first break… I was “HERO” overnight… I looked for my parents at my first award ceremony… that table…corner remained empty… no one occupied that space ever at any function for me… Even today…for past 30 years I have missed them… I now know what they must have felt when I did not respond to their requests…ads... pleadings to return.

Once in the lime light, I learned the tricks faster… In this field there is direct correlation between success and tantrums one throws… I was reaching there faster than my contemporaries… The famous “affair” that rocked my life couple of years ago… was certainly a stunt… the magazine was loosing its grip over market, I was not doing so well… for the first time I faced a ‘flop”…I was out of circulation I mean print… The brilliant idea from a reporter… changed all the equations… Magazine got its life line; I was in print….Money for all…

I managed more wealth than may be a hit….but little did I know that my kids were ashamed of me… their friends in school talked about my affair and photographs in detail... and they hated me, school, press, media for all that….They stopped going to school … just to prove to them my integrity I stooped further… another scoop followed with another magazine, proving that earlier reports were fake and how they were forged and so on…Both these helped everyone… People love to read… But it took me years to be able to prove that I am a father… a father first… and than an actor….the cold looks in their eyes… still haunts me.

Can I be the role model? Will you all ask your child to follow me and loose the track, get lost in this sparkle and glamour… I am sure NO ONE would want …

Few days ago, I was returning from my international shoot, due to some very personal reasons I could not travel with the unit and had to leave the unit one day ahead of scheduled departure.

My flight was from Los-Angeles, it was Air-India flight, my booking, like usual was in first class. I boarded the flight… like every time – Last minute…this special privilege is available with this air line only… My seat number was 2A… Airhostess greeted me; I could see her eyes going round in disbelief that she was actually hosting- serving me! She escorted me to my sit… I checked with my goggles on… almost everyone had noticed my presence…

I settled down and looked at my co passenger… weirdly in first class also you have a person who could be so close to you that he can not be ignored. one look at the traveler and I knew… he was not the first class types….I was uncomfortable… but could not say so… this man could be from media… any comment from my side would create ripples in industry…and I did not want to loose … “Money involved.”!!

That man completely ignored me; at least this is what I felt…. I was hurt… my ego was hurt… I kept staring at him, I wanted him to acknowledge my presence… normally… it’s the other way round… I get so much of attention that I feel suffocated at times… though I love it… My goggles help me look at people without them, noticing what I am doing… I removed my goggles… I was desperate to get attention from this stranger, and now I looked at him, rather started starring. He was reading, reading a book…. my stare was so deep and strong… that he could feel my eyes piercing him, he gently closed his book , adjusted himself a bit in his sit and ……

Closed his eyes….

I was shocked, I found him rude, insulting and I was fuming at myself for wanting attention from this man…. I was not sure of what to do next… I was not even sure what I would have done had he acknowledged my presence in first instance may be I too would have closed my eyes and pretended to sleep, like him.

Amidst these thoughts, I heard him say something to me….His hands were folded on his chest, and his deep voice, (I was envious of strength in his voice) greeted me… my ego was satisfied… and he started talking to me…now I found him equally handsome…a man you would not like to take your eyes off…

“I can see the dilemma in your mind, he was talking to me, and you want your personal space, at your own terms and conditions. Your were the last passenger to enter the craft delaying the departure by 30 min, it was you, who wanted to avoid, people, their contacts, may be some handshakes and few autographs…and here you are craving for the same when you got none!”

I was now afraid of him… he could read my mind…. I smiled and said we get used to glitter and fake smiles, at times it’s difficult to be self. I realized that I was astonishingly honest with him… transparent…

Without any inhibition or in awe of me, he continued… I want you to look at impact that you have or can have on young minds… and he than critiqued my films, themes and its impact, the way he narrated each of my role I was stunned… he was not criticizing me, or my roles or my acting… he was looking as its from a fathers perspective, from a nation’s perspective that had stakes of so many young minds…and from sociological impact… Mafia, Politics, Money, people aspiring to take Light- Camera- Action instead of, Imagine- Inspire- Invent…

What he meant was, relating to changing face of society, Role Models, that had changed and young minds were looking at me as a Role Model, and my acting depicted a different World. I was never questioned like this by anyone ever in last couple of years….Nothing speaks like success and people were more interested in my personal life, and for me it was more in terms of awards and donations that were made for some publicity.

He was aware that I am one of the nominees for life time achievement award and he also brought to my notice that internet and mobile users who would vote were youngsters, and people did not know much about others and their work. Apart from youngsters no one else really bothered about this award. Before my questioning eye could blurt the question out, he said… Are you worried about Space Programs? Or National Defense or Low achievement level in Government schools, or …. His arguments were sinking in me, for the first time some one talked to me with an authoritarian voice…and I listened intently. I also told him about my first impression of him, he said

“You did not know me- but I was supposed to know you” When I IGNORED this simple fact, tables turned… You wanted “me” to know you, acknowledge your presence. It’s you, who wanted to know me… I still know about you as much I knew before…” Unfortunately in the field that you work, you get more of everything, money, name, fame, negative publicity and what not… people in other walks of life spend their lives…To achieve what they call as “excellence” in any field. In any field it’s their hard work, unlike in yours, where there is so much of paraphernalia, from play-back- to stunt, from make-up to ….In other walks of life people do “their” roles to get “their” awards….”I would feel “dwarfed” if I was to get this award” he said laughingly.

I laughed with him… I took his phone number, address and other necessary details, invited him for this function, though I was not even aware that I would be the choice, by jury…

For this man on this Journey, and for the reasons I gave earlier…I am not very sure, if I deserve this “Award’ I said…

I request Jury, to rethink….. I keep this award here…. if Jury insists… I will bow to the decision by the honorable team…

“Your decision, I will honour sir… “

I stopped.

The audience, The Jury, The media, The Giants of the city, who’s who of the industry… took some time to understand that I had stopped…. the pause, the silence was unnerving for me… I had placed the “Award” on podium, meant for presenter… I stood in front of all with my head bowed down to them… thanking them for listening….

Some one got up again, some one started clapping, some one started flashing…. and the stadium was again filled with thunderous applaud, cheers, and I am sure most eyes were moist, if they had no tears…

I started moving from the center of the stage towards steps that would take me back to my seat, I had reached halfway… and the Jury took charge from the podium, he was not prepared for this part, Presenter was also fumbling for words… they just could request me to wait… come back…

Jury said,

“This year’s life time achievement award still goes to….. And rest of the stadium by blinded by the flash lights….walk from the stage; back to my seat was reminding me of my entry on the stage….

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

My secretary, next morning was beaming with joy, he almost hugged me… Sir, it worked…. all news papers, channels, radio stations had this story, phones were ringing constantly, my Blog writers were busy responding to the queries on my Blog…. my critics were shut forever, including those, who claimed that I crave for awards… and Jury was under my kitty…

I knew the headlines for next day morning; no other national event could take that space… I knew the magazine would run stories of this for months… I knew that they would try and locate all the passengers on that flight and ask them about me, their experience of traveling with me, I was sure that air-hostess would be giving more juicy stories than actual juice that she served …there would be frantic search for the person seated next to me… more trips for journalists, more copies in print, more money…. the “Award-Cycle” would go on and on…

Everything was in Place…The way I had imagined and planned, there would be no criticism for me for at least half a decade now, no one would get to know the real story… in any case even if it ever came out…. people have very short memory.

Who else could get the “Life Time Achievement Award”? Now I needed to work on a plan that would take care of my family.

Minds

As humans we live in our Minds.

Mankind has been on a journey to explore minds ever since it started tracing the same. This journey lead to all the inventions - discoveries- beautiful things in this world to worst that has been recorded by history.

Everyone thinks, but most of the times it is our bias , based on our knowledge- learning that gets in and stops us from Thinking. Everyone has capacity to be neutral and learn, it is our thinking that produces a story...and if this story affects your thinking and feelings.... we re-think.

As humans we live in our Minds- created by such stories around us.... join in...
For thinking a continuous process of learning.

-: Mystery:-

The parcel was now on my table; I was sitting in the front yard of my garden and enjoying the autumn. Parcel had my name and address and yet I was not very sure, if I should accept it- take it-open it... the recent blasts in the city and one parcel bomb in the garden that killed many, was reason enough for me to refuse the delivery The parcel from unknown source had a defunct telephone number news paper clippings had said. Parcel on my table matched the description.

The delivery boy looked puzzled. He was the one who had called me to confirm our address and that’s how I was waiting for this unknown parcel. The delivery boy was unable to answer questions I had , they kept shooting from my side without waiting for any response from his, questions like; from whom, where, which city, when was this parcel dispatched sent, what are the rules for their agency to accept such parcels, sp. which do not have complete details of the sender.

My wife reminded, I last week had sent a parcel to her sister and had written only my mobile number... I did not send a bomb... I shot back. Delivery boy was puzzled with our conversation and was looking at us suspiciously- as if it was our business to receive the parcel bombs! Instead of answering all my questions first he put me to his branch manager and his rudeness hit me like the blast! As if I had accepted the parcel and than opened it to explode on my face!

He simply shouted at the delivery boy to leave the parcel and come back. They never wanted any hassles, and there were many other waiting for him.

The size of the parcel was perfect for radio bomb... I was still in two minds... suddenly the delivery boy dialed the number that was printed on the backside of the parcel.... “The number is switched off or not in the owner is out of coverage was the standard reply.

He looked a me like if I can dial the number at my cost... cannot you accepts the parcel... something in his eyes and in my heart happened at the same time...

I accepted the parcel! With all my doubts still intact.

I did not open it for next 24 hours and had kept it in the backyard to explode...this was like a blessing for me differently... my wife did not insist that I should clean the backyard....For this strange reason I had started liking the parcel...

After two days... autumn leaves weighed heavier than parcel and my wife started nagging me to either go to police with parcel - or to throw the parcel in the local river and get back to cleaning business...

On third day after I had accepted the parcel and speaking about it in hush tones to almost all close friends and listening to the suggestions given by them... for this simple retired person the only option left, was to open the parcel

I opened it.... near the water tank and ensured that there were at lest two witnesses... ensured that telephone was working and if need be.... yes felt like talking to police and doctors at the nearby hospital... but was afraid of the consequences.. Press- reports...

I opened it- when my wife was standing next to me... she wanted to be together ...but why were we so sure that it was bomb? And it would explode? Bomb blasts in the city was now a week old and they were not the types that I was anticipating... all of them if they were bombs in parcel…were in public places and had killed many. Only one of them was a parcel in a bomb that a child opened....

I opened it.....

It did not explode.

Next couple of hours were spent calling all the near ones and to all those who had given their opinions ... telling them the content of the parcel. most were shocked to hear that it did not explode and yes, did not forget to say how foolish of me to think... what I was thinking...forgetting that they too had added their two bits to the same.

I opened it and looked at the content... they were looked at me bizarrely for them being so innocent and I being so suspicious.

I opened the content- it was a diary- more precisely it was a notebook, with neat hand writing and some pages looked longer than the length of the page for the words it had on them, while others were like too short for the page. Those words were starring at me.

For some strange reasons I started to read from the last page, and it said

“I know you are convinced. You will help me get the justice. Justice, if not for me... for my children.... please take this diary to POLICE.

I have so much in me that I will explode one day... I will be killed or murdered in a very short time from now, and this death of mine; for society will be an accident.... like so many in past.... This must explode!

I had opened the pages of harmless looking dairy and words actually exploded at me , they were not silent, nor just black, they had power, they were talking to me... ensuring me that I was a witness to a process which will help someone get justice...

I was now cold and sat blank looking at those printed words which kept falling from the top of the page and formed an image on my retina and were now forming pictures....The last page of the diary was one of those crowded pages, which had words in all corners; it looked like chaos at traffic signal. Chaos of order (?)in writers mind... like traffic, going in one direction yet appearing choc blocked and at snails pace.

My wife was more interested in autumn leaves, unaware of my mind and words that were forming images in my mind. Her words were hitting me at different level and I was sure that she too was to explode.

I started reading the last page again... I was spellbound, I could not just leave the diary... it was an emotional appeal, it appeared to be honest account, it seems that some one needed help, justice. But why me? How was I connected? I looked at the bottom of the page for the signature... identity... I thought of reading the handwriting!! My professional expertise as teacher and examiner failed miserably... handwriting was of a matured, level headed person, almost printed kind of quality in writing and excellent command over language... was enough for me to confuse myself further.

I decide to ignore the exploding voice next to my ear drums and continued reading the page - last page again like the adamant teenager who does not want to change his ways to get a different results and continues with he same old habits.... I could have started with first page... glanced through, flipped through other pages for the details...identity... but....

There was something on that last page, it said about murder, saving life, justice for children... but nowhere had it given identity of the writer, city, place, and other details. Note was technically so neutral that if you would read it... you would feel that this was one personal appeal to you. If you were in my place, I am sure you too would get transfixed with the handwriting, thoughts, and content.

Why was this sent to me? Bothered me again.... I decided to stop reading. I also decided to pay attention to my inner voice; was I getting emotional? Am I getting carried away? Is this some kind of trap? Or is this a case of mistaken identity, or contents of the envelopes were changed.... Restless mind decided to act like wind... gathering flying things from one place to another... even if it meant chaos at another place....I just could not sleep that night... usually its snoring that keeps me awake and count seconds... that night... my mind and thoughts were under fire....smog in mind and fog outside ensured day break....I took the diary, locked myself in study.... and read the last page again.

After a while I erased all thoughts, images that I myself had formed... ensured that it was like clean slate... I told most students who came to me, start afresh... I attempted the same, realizing how difficult it is to erase anything that you have created... you start liking you flaws too….”possession” even on thoughts is a danger that forces mankind to become rigid. I too was human being... but decided to follow the advices I gave to all around me...

Notebook read like this...

Day-1- The Home coming:-

Cold, ice-cold reception was expected by me upon my arrival, my arrival in this house was a very special occasion for this family and for me too. I was duly briefed for the same, but still I had hopes and some images of family members, as painted by him for me.... "A warm family who was very closely knit and who always supported everyone". Being a person from different religion can be reason enough for others to get cold.

Their coldness was unnerving, I felt like piece of furniture. My arrival to this family is engraved in my mind. We stood there; feeling of reaching home was the only feeling that showed on our faces... I could hear the door bell ringing inside and my hear beats… loud and clear. He stood calm, strangely calm at the door of his own house, waiting for the door to get opened. There was a LONG gap as if someone was deciding against opening the door, once opened, it appeared as if it was automatic... no human image emerged from any where... we stood there for few seconds waiting for some reception…and than he lead me in... Grand Hall of this beautiful apartment had mannequins... they did not blink, speak, talk, laugh, greet... this made me think if I was a statue myself... he just pulled me ... escorted me straight to room allotted for us, his room in that house. That was his room our world.

A note at the door said “Just be here always"

I felt touched, it was so refreshing, ensuring, thought the reception was deceptive and may be a prank…I unnecessarily doubted family, I must change my thinking and should not form images... I was about to smile and thank him for bringing me in such a beautiful family, when the explicit meaning was told to me by him..." do not enter any other areas.....room seemed prison to me.

They succeeded in their plans, if at all they made ...because actions from family members were not synchronized yet they appeared rehearsed.

The coldness left me NUMB, by Boldness dipped forever. This was my first day as daughter in law of this house. I was married to their son. We practiced different religions. I was not acceptable primarily because of these differences. We had talked about the same initially, he was determined like them, not to change his decision, commitment to me, an orphan.

I read the page glued... to my chair, the wrought iron chair and steaming hot cup of tea was cold...ice cold or me ,I finished that one cup in a gulp, one go... I felt the cold ness of tea down my throat…I could feel the numbness that was described... was I sweating or getting cold hands and feet reading this description? I forced myself not to get emotional, try and paint any picture in my mind... But who was this? Why me? Still continued....

Some time after a fortnight:-

I had pushed the plates out side the door after the dinner; it came at the same door every day at the same time without fail. Twice, two plates, in the same quantity in the same plates, I had not seen face of the person bringing food, nor the person taking the plates. I was not to know this. that was not my business, this was the rule of the house...

“always be here" was affecting me now.... I asked him for the first time...”how long wills this continue”? His reply was simple... “Till your life time....”

Will they harm me? Came the question, which I aborted on my lips, he knew what I wanted to ask... He said nothing giving back that look which was not even assuring. Though He was permitted to eat outside, mix with them, he preferred to be with me almost always.

This was a great assurance.

That day loud noises were heard, he was restless, as if he had some idea of the discussion that was taking place in the Grand hall. He was sitting next to the door, guarding may be, as if wanted to jump in the conversations at any time...

After a while the noises seemed to settle and as I was thinking about the probable reason, the door opened with a thud, some one was in front of me with a GUN- or was it a pistol.... a shot...thud... and stare from those anger boiling eyes.. And he was trying to push him aside… this was first person from this house who ever came so closer to me…. pistol did its work…

I just drooped to the ground… dead....

I had fainted.... actually… I still was alive?!!

I missed first date with death that day.

This was also my first outing after I was received in this house... to the hospital, where white looked more colorful to me... I felt like a human. No one was next to me, not even he...

Fear griped me, fear of being alone, fear of being duped, dumped, I wanted to say my prayers... but just could say, not that I did not remember... but for the fear of being from another religion and if someone hears it!! Fear griped me again…I just could not even press the button to call the nurse, and fainted again... I do not know for how long was I in this delirium condition, but when I opened the eyes... He was there.... talking to doctor... about my health.

I was diagnosed as a patient of schizophrenia. I screamed to say “NO”...as if that was going to help, doctor looked convinced for his diagnosis and strangely he looked assured... that helped all get away from police and attempt to murder.

I was more confused. Was this a conspiracy?

Two days later I was discharged.

I was not willing to go to that place; “always be here” was haunting me…but no other door was open that day…the door bell rang for a longer this time, wait outside in the lobby was longer, he was more restless standing next to me. It was his idea to comeback here… moreover I, did not want to see myself… getting into this mess. I knew, I was not promised rose garden, but felt “orphans” too have dignity! Except for this word there was no other flaw… in me… religion I practiced was given to me by the institution that took care of me, I firmly believed in the religion that was being followed there…. never questioned my origin, nor thought of changing the same for any reason – purpose…

The door opened ultimately, this closed the other doors which opened up after ours, was taking a bit longer to open. till now , I only had to deal with stare… but once the door behind me was closed, “Coldness” hit me again, I craved for those starring eyes, they seemed warm, had questions in their eyes, wanted to talk to me, looks from the windows were trying to communicate, than this cold look, that was suffocating. The warning at the door now read,

“Be always here- Take care”

He seemed to be taking more care of me, he was with me most of the time, food appeared in the same fashion, but this week noises coming after dinner were louder, frequent. A week after I came back from the hospital, he for the first time said.

Let’s go….

The firmness in his words were same when he had said; “let’s get married”

We left with one bag each, in any case I had no belongings, just one bag which was necessity and my worldly possession…holding his hands this time seemed so familiar, his touch and my smile said our decision was perfect.

May be the sound of door opening, made others understand that something happened, size of the bags and the backs at them communicated the decision loud and clear. No one asked him to stay, nor did they worry about the destination… may be he was hurt, but did not say so…

When the door at my back closed- chapter in my life was over. My dreams of having a home, family, life and love from near ones was as shattered as when I first realized the “home” which meant institution for me… I had craved for years, waited for… for someone to walk up to me, like me, hold me and say…. “She is my daughter… from now”…

But nothing happened…. ….

Nothing of this sort happened till he came in my life…20 years later.

We started walking, together for nowhere to go.

The notebook was blank for a while had some “scrape” and life looked stable …till I come to this page

After six months;-

That day we walked almost for six miles silently, each step we were forgetting the days we spent there, we were together, yet silent, yet talking , conversing in our minds, and dealing with our own fears, and looks that ensured each other that road ahead was safe passage.

Between two of us I had some money from my earlier job, for him he never got paid from family business individually, he could spend any amount for his desires…. Family had made it very clear that “I was not and could not be his desire”

Amount in my bank was enough to create ripples of insecurity and yet that amount stood there like him, walking next to me, assuring that things will fall in place.

Things actually started falling in place.

we walked to railway station, tickets for first destination that struck him took us to a new city, stayed in a lodge for 6 days… bank balance was going down like my confidence in self in that house… he kept assuring that things will fall in place.

I was the first one to get a job… my earlier experience of working with young minds assured the next few days. He was happy for me… but inability to get occupation for himself was speaking volumes from his eyes and hollow words congratulating me….

Next we moved into a house, this was my first home. We both missed “family”. I never had one and experienced one, and for him this was totally new experience …We could have stayed in this city for our life time….it was almost six months in this city.

till one day , while going for a movie we were missed by a speeding truck, we just managed with some minor injuries, truck driver was drunk may be… there was no reason for that truck to come from opposite lane , in wrong direction and …

He just said, “This was for you, they have located us” remarks puzzled me, how did he know? May be he knew his family better. He was holding my hands… ensuring safety, togetherness and what else I could ask for from life?

For days we did not speak, he was not responsible for anything, yet he could not look into my eyes, it was his family- strange family that wanted to separate us. I hated the word “family”. All he said was “I will protect you as long as I can”….next month we moved again.

Our First fight:-

We moved this time we were less insecure, shift in way was smooth. We were comfortable with our finances now. He still worked as freelancer, may be he could never accept working under anyone, he was employing people under him earlier… freelancing helped his ego.

We both loved children, I for a different reason; I wanted children so that they never have dry dreamless eyes, devoid looks, and uncertainty which I had been through. He wanted kids for unconditional love, accepting them as they are, for all their choices and decision they take… he was unable to reconcile with the fact that his “warm’ family was so “cold” towards me.

“Family” with two different meaning for us both, was last on our priority… we Never thought of children… never planned. Never felt the need.

Yet, when we had our son after 3 years of our wedding. It was after his birth that we fought, reason was simple.

I was insisting that he should inform his family about the Grand –son. I was sure his mother would melt, he was close to her. He always talked about her, similarities between them and relationship that they shared till I entered his life.

He missed her. He never called, wrote to them, but I knew, he needed them.

It was “we” who sent a joint letter addressed to all in his family, announcing arrival of the bundle of joy for us…. and we waited for long time for a response from that end.

A registered parcel greeted us almost after a month from his family.

I was overjoyed to get the response and waited for him to open he same in the evening. He was busy with a project and our roles had changed for a while. He worked and I was nursing our son.

He too was thrilled to see the envelope. But the happiness was so short lived that I felt sorry for what my suggestion had put him into. All that this letter contained was legal notice; debarring him- me- son from any property related matters. The notice was like separating child from mother, cutting the umbilical chord. The only difference being in the earlier case child survives and starts breathing on his own, here it was chocking.

He did not know how to control himself, first he was furious raged, screamed, shouted at me, later cried inconsolably… my fingers moved in his hair, helplessly- showing care and concern, I wanted to say “ I am there for you” but was afraid to say anything… Hurt him…. nor wanted to loose him. Our fight was not on the outcome of the letter sent, but on why in first place did he listen to my advice.

It than slowly unfolded upon me, I always followed him, he took decisions for me, protected me always. He was there like a wall. I loved that protection. I had craved for that feeling. Or the first time he had followed something which I suggested, related to his family.

Was he sure of the outcome? Or did not want to accept? I could not ask him anything.

It took less this time to reconcile, our son bridged the rift, and we soon were into our own world.

The First Letter:-

His work as freelancer was not rewarding, my work made our living. But this never bothered anyone. We switched our roles depending upon his work. Taking care of kids, in that sense, our roles, work, money was never a matter which usually baffles most couples. Yes, we now had a daughter too. We adopted her. May be he was a rebellion; He wanted to adopt a daughter from different religion, different than that we both practiced. We looked more like a Secular Nation than a family. We never forced our religion on our children too. Was he taking revenge in this manner for the treatment that he got from his family for getting married to me? But I could never ask this question.

One day he showed me a letter, Letter from his mother.

He was thrilled, he was happy like a kid; who gets a chocolate without actually asking for the same. Joy was visible and all over him. The letter had just his name and a telephone number, and he had already called once, but the call was not answered. He looked very different to me that day. As if he had found something that was lost… may be letter from mother was, his craving, was this first sign of acceptance? Many questions …. But I just wanted his “Joy” to be unconditional. I had never seen him so happy after our marriage. He was committed to me, but the lightness in his actions was different on that day.

I was happy too. He said, good that you insisted that we send that letter.

Our phone rang at an unearthly hour, I was next to the phone, and I picked up and said a groggy “hello”…. phone got disconnected. He was fast asleep… I thought of waking him up… I remembered the accident that took place almost forgotten now, fear drenched me in sweat, before I could really think further phone rang again, I had no energy left in me to pick that call… I let it ring….

He suddenly got up, saw the expression on my face, picked the call… and was relived….it was she who only wanted to say “hello” to her son only….

Phones never bothered me again, sometimes they would come twice/ thrice in week and sometime it would not ring for months…His mother was not keeping well, and his sister had moved in from another city, father was still the same. As if; though a decade had passed, time did not move for that house/ family. Calls that she was making were not known to anyone. She just spoke to him, never with me, most of the time these conversations were silent ones… as if the call was made to ensure that he says “hello” and just to listen to the normal breathing!

Phone calls changed him; he looked relaxed for days after the call, the difference evident from his ever radiating eyes, voice and actions.

It all stopped one afternoon, when unidentified people came home , threatened him, ransacked the house, I was at work, my kids witnessed the violence and he was helplessly looking at them and trying to console them … he could not say much about who they were… though he knew who had sent them. Kids did not let me go to work for one full week, they were just by our side, and a knock was enough to scare them…. He was lost again, joy from his actions disappeared again… and more he stayed home, less money we got and that made work compulsory for me, for kids, for our survival.

He never left me, never blamed me, nor coerced me to go back to his home/ town, rather with every threat; he became more protective and fierce in his actions of protecting his family.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I had to stop reading now, was it fictional or real? any which ways it was part of happening of someone’s life, but looked unreal. Yet by now, I had started creating a mental map of this person, what still puzzled me was her name, identity, religion she practiced and cities that she was mentioning, the way notebook was written made me portray this person, her family, members of the family, I also felt as if I was witness to “cold” reception that she got on day one. I was trying to be neutral …yet was getting carried away with the emotional details, but over all she looked happy to me. Most women would want a man who takes a stand and stands by it.

Here was someone who actually had a husband which many had just dreamt… was she complaining?

No, she certainly was not complaining, it was narrative… she just was narrating some episodes, which she felt were worth! I started admiring this girl, her journey from orphanage to working women who was supporting a family. Question that I still did not know and struggled with was; who this person is and why was this dairy sent to me.

I was reading and re-reading some parts, I tried to investigate, find faults with story. I could find many like; it did not mention any friends, no relatives, no connections from people from earlier life, no friends for her husband, no help when they left the house, when they were first attacked… so many more questions…. yet I was reading it.

I was sure that this was not investigation report, I had no reason to doubt the contents, I could have stopped reading the same further and just thrown the book as suggested by my wife. It was diary, a narrative, persons emotional companion, a non judgmental approach to reading was what it needed. It was written in a non judgmental way. She had never mentioned her personal feeling about his family, nor she had ever expressed regret of getting married to him and giving a life devoid of family, which she craved.

I even told some parts of the dairy to my wife, she too seemed touched by the episodes and somewhere helped me formulate a feeling that I must continue reading, do not form opinion, and read it rill end to find the meaning till the last page. I went back to the diary…

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hopefully the last shift:-

We moved this time not for threat or attempt on our/ my life but this time, I found better opportunities at work. The new place also seemed better for him and his freelancing work, it was a bigger city and farther from his town.

On the last day before we were to move, he was at the phone at odd hours, waiting for something… he called up his mother and told her about the shift. He gave his mobile number to her. He just looked at me, a blank look; not seeking approval nor for a nod... we did not say anything. Somewhere though I was happy that he called her up, and was scared too… for the unknown, for his families past behavior. Strange question bothered me, though I never doubted him or questioned him for this, how did he know that only, she would pick the call? Time of call? Was she alone that day? It was between mother and son in any case.

Life seemed settling; little does one know what is in store…

The Call and beginning of End:-

That day, we had decided to take our son to planetarium who was now 7 and our daughter was about 4 years. It was a dream outing for our son as he was the first one from his class to be at the planetarium and experience skies! we locked the house, all excited and as we were leaving, his mobile rang…. he picked up the call without looking at the number….he still was telling our son about the movie at the planetarium.

He stopped walking, kids also could see, feel the tension on his face. He was listening… just listening….his expressions changed frequently, he was angry, concerned, furious… but there were no words to express all that. Just a couple of words… and his final closing statement was loud and clear… almost shouting… “it will be all of us together” not me alone…. and he switched off.’

All of us just followed him, back inside, before I could ask him the matter phone rang again. This time I could hear male voice shouting at him… cursing him… and he just was listening…. at the end he again said the same.

it will be all of us together” not me alone…. and he switched off.”

Phone rang again and he smiled faintly…asking us to pack, we would leave for his town immediately. On our way he told me that first it was his mother who wanted him to come and meet him, her condition was deteriorating slowly… she wished to see her son… her son only. Other two calls were from his father, he was fuming, and did not want him to come, and come with me, at last he succumbed to his wife- may be her last wish, which made him allow this concession.

I just asked him, why was he not willing to go alone? He looked puzzled, He was not very sure whether information about mother’s health was correct and in his absence, actions from his family … he just could not complete…

My Reflection:-

Can practicing different religions bring so much of hatred amongst people and close relationships… can hatred stay for a decade with same intensity? Whose religion was great? One whose son was keeping his promise given to his wife? Or religion of a family who distanced their son, even attempted on his life?

He still was talking to me about family…his mother and his childhood… he did not want to loose her… he wanted her to bless him and his family, he wanted her to “see: me at least once, “talk” to me at least once… now that she was dying. He was very emotional and very rational at the same time…. this puzzled me? Can one be so levelheaded?

He warned me/ kids about “cold” reception. Kids just followed instructions; in any case for them all this was so new….

The cold reception:-2

The building was same, may be painted, I was not scared like first time, I was anticipating same reception, worst may be, hence I was more observant this time. He was close to the door; I followed him after couple of steps and kids behind me. Door took longer to open as usual; only he was taken in… we were instructed to stand there by a lady, who resembled like him… I noticed that in my first stint in this house I was too scared I had not seen faces, I was scared to “look” at them, I was confined to his room, and no one ever came to me… not even in hospital…

This time I was not scared at least… I was proud & confident of my husband his support, this reflected in my behaviour, I looked up straight into the eyes of the person at the door, I noticed that she too was trying to “look” at me.. Place me... may be she had “seen” me earlier and was trying to measure me up… our eyes met… and before we could exchange glances and may be smile…. she was pulled by someone and door banged closed on us…. He was inside… we were outside… I was not alone this time, I had my two kids, they were dazed, and my daughter started crying… I saw her for the first time and last time that day; at least this is what I thought.

We cringed into each other, I was trying to console comfort them helplessly my situation was no different than theirs… without saying anything I continued stroking their heads. The doors and windows from the neighbourhood now had faces… were they the same… like earlier episode? This question brought a faint smile on my face… people get to see… what others want to show… Strangely my husband showed meaning of word, courage, care, support… that went unnoticed through the same doors and windows.

Door opened again after may be two min. but this seemed so long for me, he appeared at the door and I was relaxed, kids ran to him…but weirdly they stopped at the door and waited for him to come out before clinging to him. ….May be I was the only one who was noticing all this…

We were to be taken in! Was the decision, as I entered, I saw how big was the Grand Hall… it still had no people to receive us, as if unexpectedly everyone had disappeared. I was looking here and there… noticing few frames on the wall and family portrait… He was all over… on walls, tables, in ways … may be this was their way of showing warmth- care! I had mixed feeling as I entered the room, it was same – this really amazed me… life had come to full stop in this house ten years ago. I remembered everything that was there in this room, I could actually recall thee position of object that were in that room without using GPRS… I had spent a fortnight… in this home/ prison….bitter memories filled me …eccentrically I was feeling guilty too… for separating a son from family….

But honestly had I known that our marriage is to cause this turmoil, I would have never craved for a family. He always, talked passionately about his family and I was just longing to be part of the same… till one day religions that we practiced shattered my dreams and his position from his own house.

Instructions at the door were same…. but this time I ignored…Kids were following me like shadow. I decided to locate the kitchen as kids were hungry but before I could make that move, food for kids… he was there with food.

Next day, kids were still sleeping, he asked me to follow him, and we went to his mother’s room. She looked beautiful in her illness too, her beauty struck me….I was tempted to compare myself with her… my thoughts surprised me… was I competing with her? She asked me to come closer to her…. I bowed my head reaching closer to her… her frail hand was over my head….

A mother had touched me for the first time. I was deprived of this touch… I smiled back, wanting to say so much, I was proud of her son… I was guilty of snatching her son… I was ready for any compromise… but religion had played villain in our lives… I wanted to be there all my life… the touch was divine.

I joined my hands and was about to say my prayers for her, for her recovery, she looked touched by this gesture... when he almost pulled me back from the bed and we went back to our room… reaching there, though I was shocked by his actions and force in his actions… I realized that …it was not for prayers that he pulled me… he wanted his mother to see me… bless me… and he wanted no body to know about this… absolutely on one…he did not want more issues at this time…he was tense but did not show, talk about his feelings. From where did he gather this strength? May be for me survival instinct was the reason, rejection was what I experienced immediately after birth and since than … but for him life was so different. What made him so rough, determined? He had already left the room to be with her…

Before the breakfast time, I was again summoned by him, we went in that room again, she looked different this time…she looked strange and all her warmth that I had witnessed had disappeared. He was near her feet, I stood next to him. There were many people standing nearby, one of them was certainly the same sister who had opened the door, I had no courage left in me to look up and stare at them, though I tried hard…. I could feel eyes preying me… dissecting me….His father was also there… facing the wall…. he did not even want to face me!

His father ensured that I heard his comment….” its her illness that ahs weekend me and you are in this house, but I promise I will take revenge for what you have done to us”

Silence in the room was deafening, each one could hear the breathing of another… his mother started crying…. she called me near to her… said in a frail voice, “Ignore his comment, he loves him… he is a warm person… after I am gone promise that you will take care of him… he is lonely and … words were falling apart… she looked at me…

I said yes, loudly- ensuring he too had heard what his wife wanted as a promise from me… I felt close to her. I touched her forehead and kissed her gently… her breathing became irregular… I looked at him… he realized what I wanted to say… I left the room… Later she was shifted to the hospital… she was sinking… late that evening I was again taken to the hospital, she took my hands in her hands, and closed her eyes forever….

I was uncontrollable… I lost mother again… this time after a very brief encounter...

I was hated for snatching her son… and here the lady finds me worth giving her life in my hands…I decided to fulfill her promise.

We were sent back soon. On this journey back home I met Ma – Baba… in train. Kids started calling them grand pa- grandma.

He too was lost, missed his mother… we had her photograph in our house now; I could look intently at her for hours. Kids were still dazed with what they had seen and experienced. Life had to start again… it just started.

Maa = Baba

He was to stay for some more time, we were not required, needed rather were asked to leave. He was uncomfortable, but I insisted and left with kids. Some how safety was not a question for me this time

I liked the old couple traveling with us instantly… there was something that attracted me towards them. May be I was missing parents and death of his mother… was still not out of my mid. I even told them that I lost my mother…I just could not share more information… I did not want to loose these parents to religion. Maa instantly hugged me, consoled me and said consider me as your mother… Baba was so gentle, unlike his father, for the period of journey I felt I was not an orphan anymore… I support and I felt that kids were safe with them… if something happens to me….we exchanged addresses and photographs before the journey ended for them. Mine was a longer one….

Strange happenings or curse? :-

After six months of her death, we received a letter, saying that his father had sold the property and they have shifted to another place. He was finding it very difficult to stay with her memories in that house.

He called up the new number and phone was answered by his father, who than gave the phone to old servant of the house…. as he did not want to talk to him.

It seemed that life had something else in store for the family and for us now…

Within another six months we got another shocking news… this time his father called up… he was there …thankfully he only picked up the phone… he was numb for long… barely he could say… “Didi died in road accident”

We left immediately, everything was over before we reached, or even her husband and his family reached. Who performed the last rites… the old servant also was not on seen. He had been keeping unwell and was sent to his village.

No body spoke or interacted with me, but we were not confined to one room in this house we could move freely. His father was still talking of revenge …for snatching his son away…. almost eleven years after the incident.

His sister took charge of the house and we were sent back, this time after 8 days…

Life looked difficult to gather pieces and start ahead… he was depressed almost stopped working and mainly was at home…. things became worst…. when another call informing death of his other sister in a similar road accident took place.

The Arrival

We shifted to his hometown, and stayed in the same house on request of his father. He asked me to take care of the house as was the last wish of his wife... The only sentence he ever spoke to me in these many years. Kids helped in their own way in this new situation, they were normal yet their behaviour was measured…

Religion no longer seemed the dividing wall…

Most important for me was the promise that I had given to his mother, who trusted me so much….

He too looked relaxed, was kind of ensured from behaviour of his father that he had changed. I was happy because he was happy. His father did not speak to me directly ever, but with kids even the religion was not the issue.

For the first time he took responsibility of his families business, he started working… his father looked unperturbed and continued going to office. Life had come to a full circle... it was 12^th year of our wedding and coldness in relationship were buried under 3 deaths that shattered the family.

Next six months were event free… and everyone looked stress-free now. There were definitely more conversations between him and his father. Children were free with grandfather. May be I was the cause of basic hostility… I just followed promise that I made to his mother. So what if he never looked at me, never shared table, food, space with me in the same house. Our religion was still limited to our rooms.

Business was doing well, and touring for my husband increased, initially it was for a day… he was uncomfortable leaving me and kids behind alone with his father… but I was sure that nothing would happen to me now…. I was sure that at least for the sake of his wife he had accepted me. It was me who assured him safety of me and kids in his absence. Slowly the days became weeks. I was never afraid any more.

The plot:-

This time, he had gone for more than a fortnight, his father was behaving as usual… till one night… I heard a conversation... I could not make much from that conversation but he was surely talking about me. Who could be at the other end?

Fear gripped me again…

Next day I was alone at home… when phone rang again… I picked up the phone and female voice said “daddy”…. and it ended as a wrong number. The phone id was from city in eastern part of the country.

That night the phone rang again, I could hear him talk to some one…. this mystery was killing me now.

Next morning I decided to check the phone id… that was erased. I was now more puzzled. I did not want to call my husband and press panic buttons. All other actions of his father were normal… may be “fear” had surfaced again.

Next two days were peaceful. I cursed myself for my own thoughts, and when he called from where he had been I assured him doubly trying to cover my guilt too.

It was one more week for him to return, I was alone at home and phone rang again, same number was displayed on the caller id. I picked up the phone and said “hello”… phone got disconnected immediately. My doubts surfaced again….I entered his father’s room for the first time …. looked here and there for some time… saw a phone diary, instinctively pulled the same… flipped through some pages… to my horror I found that number there….

Who was this person calling? Who else could call him daddy? I decided to call on that number…. it took longer for someone to answer the call; I did not say a word… someone... in a very hush tone said… “Daddy”? my heart sank….phone was disconnected from that end.

I decided to search his room again….

I came across a bag, full of letters and photographs of his daughters, my husband’s sisters who were dead ... some were too recent… who was writing on behalf of them? Were they really dead? I was too scared to investigate further... I came back to my room… I was not sure of what I had read, heard… how could some one???????? Bothered me …

Next morning, he spoke to me, I was dazed, it was shocking for me, he spoke directly to me…ordering me to meet near a bank for some official work, my signatures were required. He left for office….

I reached his room again, like a hypnotized person I look for that bag; instead I come across a diary

I could not move myself, as if I was paralyzed…. contents of the diary were volatile…I wanted to get up and drink water...but just had no energy, courage and numbness hit me… The dairy was titled “the plot” and it was account of events that took place after my mother in law passed away.

All accidents that claimed lives of his sisters were fake, the selling of property and shifting to new one was planned so as not many people would know them… both his sisters were alive and they were in eastern part of the country… calls came from them…they were equal partners in this crime… but why were they doing this?

As the plot unfolded further… I fainted….

the plot said, re- call them, love children, give him work- share in business, send him on tours… away from her and home… and

And “one more real accident”

It was me …the plot was for me…..Revenge was still on their minds.

I desperately tried to contact him… tells him all the details… but he was unreachable… kids were in school…

It struck me…. I was called for some bank work… death was in front of me again…he was not with me this time to help me… the plot was perfect.

Time was ticking….I was unable to think… beyond this…got back to my diary and wrote all that I had heard/ read/ seen as witness,

How to ensure that this diary reaches to him on his return, when he comes to know about my accident?

Maa- baba were on my mind, I decided to post my diary to them, they would than send it back to this address after couple of days….Once he reads this diary… he will get me justice, my kids…

My kids, after my death… thought made me nervous.

I walked like a android back to my room, decided to go to school , pick children and leave this city till he comes back…. yes that was safest thing to do…

On Last page again:-

I am writing this page as it is going to happen now… I wrote…

Today at four I will start from my place for bank and on my way I will encounter death, hope this is final and no more efforts are required to kill me…. I would want peace for the remaining ones…

I wrote about my fears, plot and I re wrote the plot…..I do not want to die and hence I am going to run away with kids and yet if something happens to me… this should reach to my husband and police….

Though I write this, I do not want to die and hence I thought of escape… with kids.

I packed diary in an envelop , wrote Maa – baba ’s address and wrote the old mobile number at back, may be that number will help them trace me… send the diary back …and asked the maid to go and post the same immediately. I ensured that he leaves before I left...

I did not want to loose the time, for me kids and their safety was creating mayhem in my mind.

I came down and started the car … I switched the player as I wanted to break the pattern of my thoughts I wanted to reach to my children as early as possible…… recorded voice of his father emerged, I was scared…

“I know, you know the plot, I know you want fail my plot…and want to run away with kids… I knew you would do this too fail my plot… but my “accidents” were for this plot. Look straight… the speeding truck is for you… may you rest in peace. Your husband ….

Remaining words was lost in crash… News paper carried reports of “one more death” by speeding heavy vehicles, driver escaped scene of crime…

XXXXXXXX XXXXXXXX

I was emotionally – physically- mentally drained reading this dairy, Diary claimed that we were the Maa- baba.

We have never set our foot outside our compound in last five years, forget train journey and exchange of address and phone numbers. My wife was shocked, angry at her father in law….she felt it was cold blooded murder.

I did not find any name/ address in diary where I could send back this notebook. It was still a mystery as to why we received this note.

I was too disturbed reading this and felt my moral duty to inform police… I went with diary to police station. They were initially reluctant but later proceeded with case. There were rounds of questions and even the branch manager of the courier company was questioned. I wanted justice to emerge. I wanted to reach to those kids and her husband and wanted him to know his father’s real face.

It is more than 5 months now since I received this notebook. Her story still haunts me, my wife. I have decided to locate family…I still believe in her story and I want justice for her. I want to meet her kids and husband.

We could locate the city… area… date and details on envelope did match with one road accident that took place in that city on that day…. I was informed that person who died in road accident was an old man and police suspected murder for property and in his death. According to neighbours statement in this case, daughter in law of the house, practiced a different religion. Family members including old man’s wife were seeing a larger conspiracy in this accident. They loved their daughter in law who was more attached to the old man. Surprisingly handwriting of these two people almost matched.

My note book disturbed them too… now they too believe like me in this… and our search is on… do you know any such family?