The Truth

‘BCR-BOM-1106085’ read the screen of my cell phone. I quickly saved this number. It was the number of the cab that was supposed to pick me up and take me to my office in Mumbai. Mumbai - As much as I love the city, there is something about it that scares me. I always feel that if I’m left alone in Mumbai, though I’ll be safe but I’ll get lost and start crying in the middle of the street. Being used to huge open spaces and the luxury of a Jaipuri haveli, the crowd at times gets on my last nerve. But then the very next moment, I notice that each single human who surrounds you doesn’t care if you exist or not. Everyone’s busy. I like that. In the HR jargon, I would call it a unique kind of transaction analysis, the synopsis of which would be – ‘I’m OK and don’t give a damn if you’re OK or not’

Anyways, on a recent trip to Mumbai for a day of office work, I was supposed to travel in the morning and be back to good ‘ol Hyderabad by night. My office had booked a cab for me and never gave me the cab drivers number. But luckily, the moment I got out at the airport, my cab driver gave me a call. One thing, and I would certainly like to generalize this behavior, is that nobody expects a woman to have a high flying career. The natural way they would address you is ‘Sir’ without bothering for you to even say ‘Hello’ so that it becomes clear that the voice at the other end of the phone is coming from the larynx of a woman.

‘Saar, hum pahuch gaye hain. Aap kahan hain? ’ the voice at the other end of the phone said out aloud.

‘Jee, main aa gayee hun. Gaadi kaha parked hain?’ I answered
‘Achcha Maidam…jee terminal 2 ke bahaar nahi hain hum, lekin thoda aage aa jaiyega, toh wahi dikhai de jayenge..4665 hain taxi number’ he said.

After playing hide and seek for about ten minutes, I finally located the cab. As I was walking towards it, he called me up again.
‘Jee maidam, dikhai de rahee hain aap’ he said and was waving to somebody else in the opposite direction.
‘Aap jiski taraf ishaara kara rahe hain, who hum nahee hain…hum aapke peeche hain…peeche mudiyega toh dekheyega’ I answered and was surprised at my own language and choice of words. When in Rome, do what the Romans do; When in Uttar Pradesh, just speak as if you are perpetually chewing pan and stretch every word you speak. The guy was clearly from UP. I could make out from the way he spoke.

‘Arre maidam, maafi chahte hain…aapko dikkat hui yahan tak aane me. Iske liye very sorry’ he apologized and actually more than once – to an extent that I felt embarrassed.

‘Arre, kya baat kar rahe hain..koi baat nahi bhaiya..kaahe ki dikkat, zara sa chalne me dikkat thodi hoti’ I answered sitting in the car. We exchanged a couple of sentences about Mumbai, the weather here and how different it is from Delhi and of course I gave him my office address where I had to be dropped off. Thereafter I didn’t speak much coz half my mind was on the client meeting that I had the moment I reached office. Honestly, I was prepared but tense and maybe a little nervous too. So the rest of the way was spent in him driving and me revising on some key points that I had to touch upon during my meeting. He could tell – I was nervous.

‘Jaroori kaam se aayi hain aap’ he said and it was less of a question and more of an observation.
‘Jee, bahut zaroori kaam hain, aur mere career me pehli baar hain. Bas kuch gadbad na ho jaaye’ I answered.
‘Kyon hogi gadbad, aap ekdum poore confidence se jayiyega meeting me…aur dekhiyega kaise log ekdum taaliyan bajayenge aakhir me’ he said to pep me up. It did help and yes, brought a smile to my face. We reached our destination about forty minutes later.

‘Cab not allowed inside’ said the guard outside the office. His words were as though coming out of a Robot’s mouth programmed to say this and this only. No matter what I said, his answer was cabs not allowed. I decided not to allow inconsequentials ruin what was consequential. Hence I decided to walk up the next 100 meters. I asked the cab and my driver to wait right there assuring him that I wouldn’t take more than two hours.
‘Ma’am, please take a seat. The client will be here in 5’ said one of the ladies who was coordinating this meeting. As I sat down, I got a call on my cell. I faintly recognized the number and then it struck me- It was my cab driver’s number.
‘Aap pahuch gayee? Koi dikkat toh nahi hui?’ he asked me in a concerned voice.
‘Jee bhaiya, main pahuch gayee hun’ I replied
‘Acha, theek hain. Maina socha ek baar pooch lun. Aur suniyega, dariyega nahi. Badiye se meeting kariyega. Hum yahin wait karenge aapka. Best of Luck’ he said in an upbeat tone.
‘Thank you bhaiya’ I said and disconnected the phone. There was a sudden sense of calm. I don’t even know his name and he specially called me up to wish me luck! Wow! Under ordinary circumstances, I would’ve asked him his name but as I was a little busy in the preparation, I had decided to keep that for later. There was no doubt - I was deeply touched by this gesture.

Meeting over now and a good meeting by the way, I called for him and now I was relaxed – basically in a mood to talk.
‘Kaha chaliyega?’ he asked
‘BKC lijiyega. Waha mere ek saheli hain (I wanted to be specific – I’m going to meet a girl). Bachpan ki dost hain, usko surprise denge. 5 baje hum airport ke liye nikal lenge’ I answered
‘Bilkul denge surprise! Chaliye’ he said sounding more excited than me.
I was relaxed now and asked him to put on some music and starting singing along with the music. I’m a singer and I love music – just can’t control my impulse to sing along.

‘Hmm…ab aap lag rahee hain thode aaram me. Jab uteri thi gaadi se, toh nervous lag rahee thi. Isiliye maine phone kiya aapko’ he said passing a smile. His smile was real, something rare these days. He adorned a sleeveless sweater, a haldi chandan teeka on his forehead and paan tinted teeth – and he was a happy sight. I liked him.
‘Aap maanege nahi, par aapke phone ke baad mujhe bada confidence aaya. Uske liye thank you’ I replied and his smile widened.
‘Aap yahan ke toh nahi lagte?’ I said and it was more in the form of a statement than a question.
‘Jee, Lucknow ka hun. Lekin meri parvarish yahi ki hain’ he answered
‘Arre waah! Mera Nanihaal Lucknow ka hain’ I added and then we went into details of where in Lucknow are our houses located and what’s good in Lucknow to eat, shop etc.
‘Mera naam Suchita hain. Aapka?’ I asked him. Not that I was going to address him by name, but still.
‘Ravi Pandey’ he answered. Pride in his eyes and a smile on his lips – here was a happy man or so I presumed. But the conversation had just started. Distances in Mumbai are a lot and conversations that take place over this long duration can end up in you thinking and thinking hard. This was just the beginning. Like I said, ‘Happy’ he SEEMED…

‘Aapki family bhi yehi hain?’ I asked him and this was the starting point of a conversation that I’ll remember for a long time to come.
‘Nahi, shaadi nahi kiye hum’ he answered sheepishly. I was surprised coz he definitely wasn’t young and should’ve been married by now. Also, I became a little more conscious and decided to start shutting my trap slowly and gradually without making it too obvious. I was thinking all of this and more when he suddenly spoke up again ‘Actually hamari mataji keh rahee hain ki shaadi karle karle aur ek ladki bhi dekhe hain hum. Uske bhai bhi fauj me hain aur kuch rishtedaar yahi Mumbai me hain. Humne toh unhe yaha bulaya bhi tha. Ek mahina reh kar gayee hain abhi kuch din pehle hi. Hum chahte the ki who dekh le hamare rehne ka tareeka, hamar ghar vagaira taaki baad me dikkat na ho. Ab hum toh shaadi nahi karna chahte par mataji peeche padi hain. Hamara toh manna hain ki jab pate kisi se achi tarah, tab hi shaadi kariye varna koi fayda nahi. Hadh se hadh, yehi hoga ki shaadi late hogi lekin santushti toh hogi ki shaadi achi hui hain. Par ab hamari mataji bimaar rehti hain, toh hum soch rahe hain ki…chaliye dekhiyega kya hota hain…’ he said and left it at that.

‘Haan toh kar lijiye shaadi. Isme harz hi kya hain’ I said and he nodded. In my head I went over what he had just said. Pure pearls of wisdom. I wonder how many of us - the so called ‘Educated and cultured’ people understand this simple fact that marriage is sacred and should be gotten into only when you find someone you truly love and not because you’re in the wrong side of 20s. I know atleast a dozen people/friends who have gotten married because they were above 25 years of age now, or their families(society) thought it was time for them to get married, or got married to someone they barely met once in the stupidest form of wedding – The arranged marriage. And how many girls actually come and stay at their fiancé’s place for a month to see whether they can adjust there or not? Wow…that is liberal and so…practical and important. And these are exactly the people who somebody will completely disregard as being ignorant, poor and not good enough to sit with. Hats off! I got distracted from my own thoughts and the reason is not to difficult to guess. The FM station was belting out some amazing Ghazals and this was one Ghalib. I started humming along.

A slight frown on my forehead, a little vibration in my throat and I started singing ‘Hazaaron khwahishen aisi…ki har khwaish pe dum nikle…..Bahut nikle…mere armaan….lekin fir bhi kam nikle…..Nikalna khuld se aadam ka…sunte aaye hain lekin..bahut beabroo hoke…tere kooche se hum nikle..’. I was lost in the beautiful lyrics of this Ghazal when Pandeyji spoke up. What was instore is what I’d like to call the climax.

‘Ek baat kahoon aapse?’ he said
‘Jee kahiye’ I replied wondering what he wanted to say.
‘Aapse jhooth nahi kehna chahte hum. Aap achche insaan lagte hain and humse itne pyaar se baat ki. Humne aapse jhooth bola’ he said sounding very apologetic. I couldn’t figure out which lie was he talking about.

‘Sach toh yeh hain ki hamare teen bache hain. Meri sabse badi baby toh ab college me hain. Usse choti baby 10th ke paper degi is saal. Aur sabse chota ek ladka hain mera – who 7th me hain. Hamari shaadi hui thi pehle 92 me. 2003 tak sab theek tha, fir najaane kiski nazar lag gayee. Hum toh unhe bahut pasand karte the par shayad unhe humse koi behtar chahiye tha – jo shayad humse zyada kama paye. Ab bhai, ek ghar hain, dukaan hain aur taxi bhi chalate hain aur sab kuch jaante hue hi toh aapne humse shaadi ki thi. Kuch chupaya toh tha nahi humne…par…Unke baap aur bhaiyon ke paas paisa hain toh unhe usi baat ka ghamand aa gaya. 2004, 2005 se who apne gaon jaane lagi aur jaati thi to 4-5 mahine tak ruk jaati thi… Hume samajh hi nahi aata ki aakhir who chahti kya hain. Bachcho ki parhai zaroori hain aur iski wajah se who suffer karti hain. Hum chahte hain hamare bachcha parhe and teeno English medium me parh rahe hain abhi. Par nahee, hamari patni toh jaise ekdum akdoo si ho gayee thi. Kisi cheez ki parvah hi nahi hain. Aakhir kab tak sahe aisa vyavahaar. Isliye hamari mataji ne zor daala ki doosri shaadi kar loon’. He paused and I guess he was waiting for me to say something. I think he knew what was coming.

‘ Aapki wife ko pata hain ki aap dossri shaadi karne jaa rahe hain?’ I asked and wondered if I should’ve just nodded at whatever he was saying instead of actively participating in this discussion.

‘Humne unse kuch nahi chupaya. Who jaanti hain aur fir bhi unhe koi farak nahi parta. Hum unhe ghar aane se bhi mana nahi karte. Who aati hain, 2 mahina rehti hain aur chali jaati hain….humne unhe samjhaane ki badi koshish ki….ki dekhiye santosh rakhiye…karm ki roti hi sukh deti hain……par’ he paused and then continued ‘Hum toh yehi maante hain Maidam, ki ek shaadi hain, sundar hain aur bhaut hain…hum toh chahte hain ki who wapis aa jaye…par hum kabhi bolenge nahi…Who nahi samajhti. Maidam, lekin baby meri bahut achchi hain….mujhe kehti hain – Papa, aap chinta kyon karte ho, ma ko nahi aana toh na aaye, hum chaar bahut hain is ghar ko sambhaalne ke liye…Baby meri bahut achchi hain….’ he concluded…

‘Hmmm….’ I was at a loss of words. He had just cried his heart out. I should say something…anything…and so I did ‘Aapki baby bilkul theek kehti hain aur aap bhi bilkul sahi hain bhaiya. Agar aapne kuch chupaya nahi nahi hain, toh fir aap kuch galat nahi kar rahe. Bachche chote hain aur ma ki zaroorat toh mehsoos hoti hi hogi. Aap bhale insaan lagte hain…chinta mat kariye…aapke saath achcha hi hoga’ I managed to conclude.
‘Jee maidam, bas yahi prarthana kar sakte hain. Bas, aapse jhooth nahi bola gaya toh aapko sab kuch bata diya maine’ he said.

‘Achcha kiya aapne. Mann halka lag raha hain ab?’ I asked jokingly and he smiled. I had reached my destination. After a beautiful afternoon spent lunching with my friend, I called Pandeyji and we drove to the airport.

‘Aap dobara kabhi bhi Mumbai aaye toh mujhe phone kariyega – Hum haazir ho jayenge. Aur haan, jab is meeting ka result aaye toh hume zaroor bataiyega. Hum dua karenge ki aapko safalta mile’ he said as I was getting out of the cab. I smiled and thanked him for being so nice to me and promised him that I would call him to tell him the result of this meeting today the moment I come to know of it.

‘Here’s your boarding pass ma’am. Have a good flight’ said the guy at the Kingfisher counter. I just had a handbag for luggage. As I was going for the security check, my cell started ringing. It was Pandeyji.
‘Aap theek se pahuch gayee? Ticket mil gaya na aapko’ he asked
‘Jee bhaiya, ticket mil gaya hume. Thank you’ I answered.
‘Ok Maidam, dhyaan rakhiyega apna aur hume yaad rakhiyega’ he said as a parting shot.
‘Bilkul, dobara aaongi toh zaroor miloongi aapse. Aap bhi dhyaan rakhiyega’ I replied
‘Ok bye’ he said
‘Bye bye’ I said and disconnected the phone.

I stood for a moment and let some ladies who seem to be in extreme hurry take my place in the row ahead. Not that the plane was going to leave without me or them but what business do I have to make them understand that. Let them enjoy…I thought to myself…I looked around…a sea of people…everyone looks busy…that’s all – very few look happy…I’m sure everyone has a story…but nobody has the time to listen, not even your closest. Maybe that’s why Pandeyji spoke his heart out to me. Maybe its easier to speak it out to a stranger who wouldn’t judge you. If that’s the case…then why anyone should be close to us at all….Why can’t somebody just listen and not judge…If only every Pandeyji had a Suchita to hear him out…

A Cinderella Story

“Haan yaar, bas tayyari ho rahi hain kal ki New Year party ke liye” said a fat bespectacled man on the phone (to presumably another guy coz I’m sure a woman wouldn’t date a guy like him), while carefully scrutinizing the work of the guy who delicately handled his feet and nails in carrying out a pedicure for him. I could puke, I swear I could. Anyways, I’m not too fond of unisex saloons.

Coming from a family of pure bred military men and with all due respects to metro sexuality, one message to ‘Man’-kind – the nukkad wala ‘Nai’ is your man, people!

‘Yes ma’am?’ asked one of the ladies in the parlor.

‘Yes, yes’ I said turning my gaze, ‘Threading, waxing, filing and nailpaint….and….and anything you think I should do to look better tomorrow!’ I finished.

‘Sure, please take a seat. We’ll start with your threading’ she said

I swallowed, because honestly I hate this part of going to a parlor. It pains like hell.

Just when she was about to start my eyebrow surgery, I stopped her and said ‘Hey, umm...what’s your name?’

‘Sapna’ she answered looking rather amused.

‘Ok,…umm…you know this is very painful for me, infact, my tattoo didn’t hurt so much. So would you please keep stopping after a couple of seconds on your own and then resume. I know this can take some time but consider it as a request’ I said

‘Sure sure ma’am, why do you worry? We do this everyday…in fact every hour of our working day’ she replied in a distinct Punjabi accent – a typical flavor of Delhi.

The seat next to me got a chance to grace the asses of three different women while my seat was getting bored with just one. I took good 15 minutes to get done with the threading and must have asked her to stop a dozen times but Sapna didn’t quite seem to mind or get irritated. I’m sure if I were she; I would have picked up the thread and cut my customer’s skin on purpose for interrupting so much.

‘Finally, thank god!’ I said when it finally did get over.

She found me amusing, I could tell from her expression. ‘Why don’t you change in that room and in the meanwhile, I’ll heat the wax’, she said and I did as she said.

I was relaxed now; the painful part was over long back. What followed now was routine my system had become inured to.

‘What time do you close?’ I inquired

‘By 8’ she replied

‘You stay nearby? With family’ I asked

Yes, I stay close. My parents are in Himachal. I’m married here’ she answered

‘Oh, ok’ I said and started examining my one hand which was now a clean field when Sapna spoke.

‘All this for the big party tomorrow, huh?’ she said knowing all too well that her guess was right and a sense of unmistakable longing in her eyes and tone.

‘Yes, New Years eve. Anyways, it’s time for a routine visit before people in the party tomorrow begin to address us and Col Shekhawat, his wife and ‘Son’.’ I said and giggled coz I found my joke funny.

‘C’mon!’ she said and joined in the laughter.

‘So, what are your plans for tomorrow? Closing early, going out with hubby?’ I asked hoping to get her all chirpy about her plans. On the contrary, her face seemed to have lost its shine, but only temporarily.

‘Hum Kahan’ she said ‘Kal toh parlor me busy day hain’ while still working on my hands. ‘I’m sure we’ll get a lot of people for make up appointments, hair dos, saree draping and all tomorrow. We can’t be on a leave tomorrow’. She said….and stopped her self from saying something more….

‘It’s just another day ma’am. Nothing changes for us. If I don’t take a leave, I might be able to make some extra money and then maybe me and my husband can have a nice dinner someday in the New Year, but on an ordinary day. Wahi hamara New Year ho jayega…’ She finished.

I didn’t have a reply. I almost felt guilty for holding her up so late in the parlor just so that I can look pretty tomorrow. I just managed a smile.

She was just about to get done with my waxing and my bleach was drying up when she called out to her colleague, a lady named Kajal.

She opened my room door and peeped inside raising one of her eyebrow to Sapna to ask why she called her. Sapna asked her to check if I needed to keep the bleach on.

‘It’s done’ she answered after examining my face and started sponging it out. After she was done, there was a big smile on her face.

‘Arre waah, kya glow aa gaya hain, sahi main’ she exclaimed and they both seemed so happy to see my face glow. I almost felt sad that they are putting so much effort on every lady who comes at their doorsteps and making her look like Cinderella all set for the grand ball while they themselves prefer to stay in the shadows and come no where near the ball.

‘Here, let me put some mint gel. It’ll feel good and ensure no eruptions. Your skin seems sensitive’ said Kajal and left the room to get the gel. I’m sure, I don’t even possess half the passion these women show towards their jobs, I thought to myself.

Sapna and I spoke for some more time. She was my fairy, after all and I knew she was going to vanish in a while.

Why do you stay so far away in Hyderabad?’ she asked

‘I got placed there from campus. It’s a good job’ I said

‘But don’t you miss home, especially now, after spending so many days here?’ she asked

‘I do, I do….let’s wait and watch what the New Year and the future has in store for me’ I gave an unsure answer.

A couple of more sentences were exchanged between us before I was done with all that I intended to in the parlor.

‘Rajesh will file your nails and apply nail paint. You’ll have to go that room’ said Sapna while guiding me out and directing me towards a new room.

Before I went, I saw the mirror. ‘Damn, Kajal was right!’ I though to myself and I’m sure even Sapna caught my slightly twisted smile.

Rajesh took about fifteen minutes with my nails and yes they were now shapely and colored. He saw me struggling with my slip-ons and helped me slide my feet right into them holding on to my slip-ons. That was kind and not really on his JD.

I walked out towards the billing counter. I inquired about the total damage from the owner of the parlor while Kajal was at his side. My eyes were searching for Sapna.

‘Sapna?’ asked Kajal and I nodded.

‘She left while you were getting your nail paint changed’ she informed

‘Ok…I just wanted to thank her and wish her’ I said and she just smiled. My Fairy left without a word. I wonder if Cinderella ever got a chance to thank anyone- the pumpkins that got transformed into a two bogeyed chariot, the mice who became horsemen, the hare who became the door guard and most of all, the fairy. Even she was in too much of a hurry to reach the ball and her prince.

Money transaction over, I looked at the owner and said ‘Try closing early tomorrow and go party somewhere with this wonderful gang that you have here’

‘He just smiled’ – he had to is my guess coz I had paid him a bomb just seconds back.

‘Happy new year’ I wished him, Kajal and Rajesh

‘Happy New Year to you too’ he said and ‘here, this pocket calendar…2011…this is for you’ and handed it over to me.

‘Wow, thanks’ I said and wished them again before moving out of the parlor.

It’s New Year’s Eve and I feel like Cinderella. I’m sure every girl my age going to a party tomorrow will feel and also look like one. I say so because when I got up in the morning today, there was no kohl on my eyelids but oil in my hair, no moisture on my lips but unfiled nails with the nail paint chipped. So to get things in shape, I paid up for my very own pumpkin, four mice and a fairy. How I wish I could take them all along with me to the ball…How I wish very pumpkin, every mice and every hare gets a chance to be a Cinderella….to get their own set of angels who would in turn be their pumpkins and fairies…

Oh magical Cinderella dear

Thou art a real beauty, I hear

And believe a large heart, you bear

So do give me a listening ear

And in memory, push the back gear

I hear the ball was far from near

And sooted drags were all you had to wear

If not for these angels, whom you prayed should appear

Instead of peach, you might have ended up looking like a pear

And you and your prince might have been acquaintances, mere

So, first up, pray for those who got you here

The pumpkin, the mice, the fairy and the hare

All those who, in the big picture, have always been at the rear

Coz, I believe to become a Cinderella, every Pumpkin possess flair….

The Balancing Act

“Thank you so much” I said as the guy at the payment counter of the Bombay store at Hyderabad airport handed over to me my latest “impulse purchase” – a leather handbag, more like a shoulder one actually with Kashmiri work at its bottom. Well, I call it an impulse purchase because I am a compulsive shopper and couldn’t wait to get to Delhi to shop. Besides Preity Zinta flaunted something similar in Kal Ho Na Ho…

I was still getting my new possession in place and my debit card in the safety of my wallet while the guy at the counter who seemed to be in a hurry as he was dealing with two customers at the same time – me and a finely dressed young gentleman standing next to me when he mistakenly addressed him as ‘Ma’am’ while handing over his purchase to him and said ‘here’s your bag Ma’am’.

Naturally, I wanted to laugh out loudly but the fetters of age, decency and maturity (more pronounced in the case of a girl) allowed me just a muffled giggle.

Little did I know that the finely dressed man was just going to eschew his own impression of ‘being a fine young gentleman’ with his next words. “I can see that this lady here seemed to have got you a little mesmerized, but that doesn’t mean you are going to address everyone as ma’am” he said alternating his glances between me and the guy at the counter and smirking all this while. I could hear a mirror break…the pieces scattered right at his feet. What a desperate attempt and actually what a pity!

Smart Alec…I thought to myself! Not really the kind of guys I like to talk to. I managed a forced smile and we parted. But don’t worry he’s not the ‘Hero’ of my story. My heroes are humble…they are simple…they are real and they are special.

I waited a while in the waiting area and forced half a Mc Chicken from Mc Donalds into my tummy and threw the rest. God knows why I bought it in the first place. I think it has something to do with my nationality. Mine is probably the only country where people eat because they are somewhere out and not because they are hungry…It’s more like… ‘bhai bahar aaye hain…toh kuch toh kha le’…


I boarded the flight and had an aisle seat. People don’t prefer aisle seats but I really like them. For some reason, every time I have got a window seat, it’s been right above the wing…so boom go your chances of beautiful views and two- three hours of making imaginary creatures out of the clouds. So aisle seats totally work for me. Besides all I do while I’m on an aircraft is sleep. It’s like magic – pure, undisturbed, deep slumber….almost like a coma. Flights do that to me and I love it. Just in case I can’t get to sleep, I talk to random people. Did I mention that the only time I don’t talk is when I’m asleep…So, here I was all set for my short term come when…. “waaaaaa…waaaaa”


Hmpf! Hmpf! Hmp! Now, I’m not a child hater. I’m a woman and I do have innate maternal instincts but something that comes more naturally is sleep. I would say nature overpowers instincts. And so, I hated that kid at that moment. I think everyone was irritated with that kid at that point and still trying to keep up an encouraging smile towards each other and specially the kid’s parents. Like I mentioned earlier - the fetters of age, decency and maturity ultimately take over. My brains’s army was getting into action. Enemy location – it shouted out. I glanced left and then right. There …there he was….and as much as I wanted to say to its mother – Can you please make that kid of your shut the fuck up!....all I managed was a sympathetic understanding smile which she must have translated in words as “ I know ..I know what it means to manage a kid…especially in flights…after all I’m a mother of four” but honestly the real translation was – ‘Damn it! Couple of years and I’ll be in her shoes and somebody else would be calling my kid stupid and praying that it shut up’. That’s mean – I concluded and hence the smile.

‘What is the capital of Meghalaya?’

‘Shillong’!

‘What is the capital of Nagaland?’

‘Kohima’

And this must have continued for another five minutes when I could no longer hold back my urge to stare at the people sitting next to me. The kid was brilliant – I thought to myself. I mean, I wasn’t like this when I was his age. I’m sure if I’m asked to spell out the north eastern states of India, I’ll still miss one of them. In fact, when someone asks me about the North East, the first thing that’ll come to my mind are chinkies, straight hair, smart clothes, noodles, guitar, drugs, greenery and my stay in Arunanchal Pradesh. And instead of answering what I know about the North East, I’ll deviate and break a discussion around how nice my stay in Arunanchal was. But that’s me. And this kid was not me. He knew everything by heart. The seven sisters…capitals..rivers..surrouding areas..mountain ranges….z z z z z z z z z….That’s enough…nature finally did get the better of me.

Just about half an hour before the flight landed, I woke up and looked at my watch.

“Damn! I’m up early! What the hell will I do?” I thought

“TALK” the answer was simple.

My neighbours were still at it – the question answer game. Sitting next to me was a middle aged man who must be in his late forties though I thought he looked older. The kid sitting on the window seat seemed small – I thought he must be in 2^nd or 3^rd (given his knowledge). But the man I presumed would be his uncle or someone older – he looked to old to be a father of such a young kid. Well, you see my dad was a dashing and a handsome young man in uniform with a super fit body when I was that small –he still is minus the super fitness (Another thought that was playing in my head was and I’m not particularly proud of this one – Has he kidnapped this kid and that’s why he’s keeping him busy with color books coz he’s definitely not his father? :P)

‘Papa, can I get some juice?’ said the kid. Alright so you are son and father…

Satisfied with his juice, the kid went on to reading the spice route magazine (at that age, I only read pictures…no words) and asked his father how an airplane works. He wanted to know the dynamics! But that’s not the shocker. The shocker was that the father began to explain the dynamics using some terms which I identified I didn’t quite understand even when Mrs. Veena Dhawan, my physics teacher in 10^th tried to make me understand.

The next few minutes the father questioned his son on world geography and trust me this kid knew more than I do even today at my age. I couldn’t hold myself back.

‘How old is he? Which class is he in?’ I asked his father.

‘He’s 6 years old…in 1^st standard’ he replied.

‘I can swear, I wasn’t that intelligent when I was his age’ I said smiling genuinely at that kid.

The father smiled…I’m sure with pride an added ‘He’s been like this you know…very inquisitive about everything...loves reading and we just help him’.

‘That’s nice to know’ I said and then just kept quiet. Usually, with men, I only say a couple of words. They do the rest.

‘So what do you do? Are you studying?’ he asked

YAYEEE, BROWNIE POINTS UNCLE…gushing with happiness inside…coz it clearly meant I didn’t look 24 ;)

I replied in a modest humble tone ‘Oh no, I’m a post graduate and have been working for the past 1.5 years as a consultant with Deloitte’

‘Very nice, keep it up. That’s an audit firm, right?’ he said

‘Yes, but I’m a part of the consulting function’ I said

Completely ignoring my last statement, uncle said ‘do you know what audit firms do?’ and before I could reply, he started explaining what audit means and the next five minutes were spent on that and his interactions with my firm. I chose to listen politely.

‘Very nice company’ he concluded.

He spoke a lot to me from – my schooling to how being an Army kid is good and its disadvantages too, from my education to how Delhi has changed in the past couple of years. He seemed particularly cheerful and positive when he spoke of Delhi. Even though I have been born and brought up in Northern India, I do have South Indian loyalties. For some reason, I just like South more than North now. Anyways, he had to be, I presumed, a Delhi-ite as they are called.

And so ‘Uncle, what do you do?’ I asked him.

‘I’m a doctor’ he replied.

‘And you’re based out of Hyderabad, is it?’ I asked

‘Oh no...no. It’s my child, he said looking at his son and giving him a reassuring smile and getting one right back from him. He has a medical condition, something in his left eye. So I need to take him to L.V.Prasad hospital in Hyderabad for a treatment every three months. They have the best eye doctors you see’.

It took me a minute to gather myself. The child seemed perfect…he couldn’t have had any medical condition for heaven’s sake. It’s not correct God! He’s six for crying out loud.

Like I said I’m not a child hater and at this point I did have to hold myself back from taking the kid right into my arms and kissing him on the forehead – maybe just to reassure and pray to God to cure him as early as possible.

‘Aah…oh..ok’ I managed to say and then looked at the kid ‘You’re a very intelligent boy, you know. What’s your name?’

‘Supratim’ he said shyly

‘Supratim? That’s it? Is that all? Supratim what’? said his father with a smile ofcourse.

‘Supratim Mehta’ said the kid.

‘That’s a nice name’ I said and started searching my handbag just in case I could find a toffee somewhere in my bag. I usually do have them. But today was different. Yes, it was different. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t have toffees today Supratim’ I said

‘It’s ok, no problem’ he smiled and so did his dad. A smile that said - 'yes, my life's a struggle but that's no reason for me not to smile or live my life to the fullest.

I didn’t want to talk anymore. I was thinking…and thinking hard. It’s not fair for a little kid to have to deal with such troubles so early in his life. But maybe this is what god’s idea of fairness is. Life averages everything. Somewhere you have plenty, in other aspects you’re a pauper. You win some…you lose some…

The flight landed. ‘It was nice meeting you Uncle’ I said and bade a final goodbye to Supratim.

P.S –Waiting for my luggage, I did notice, while everybody else was busy in looking either bored or getting ready to put on their pretentious demeanors right before stepping out into Delhi, Supratim was busy examining the conveyor belt, its plates and its motion.

I am a butterfly...a social one at that..and being still isn't my nature...Constant move..an undying quest..I know not what I yearn for...but there's something I'm still looking for...
I move...from flower to flower....some are pretty...some are not..but have you ever seen a rabble of butterflies? I doubt...that's not their nature....each one is pretty..each one is uncertain and each one takes off alone...swiftly flying..gathering nectar from strange flowers...winning the praise of onlookers but never staying long enough for anyone to come grab them...
She'd much rather find her reality in the strangeness of the random flowers than in the clutches of those hands that once praised her for her beauty and swiftness and then trapped her independence in the next moment...I'm sure she has a story about each of those strange flowers..maybe more interesting ones than the mundane 'that big human looking beast tried to grab me again' story..
This one's a collection of my such encounters...with people I have met just once and shall never meet again..and yes...they are more interesting than the mundane 'that guy asked me out';'I've put on weight';'what are you wearing for new years' stories...coz I'm more real than this..
As a prelude to what you shall read....let me assure you...that emotions - as I've known and learnt are strange...we live in a world where you'll find friends in strangers...love in the darkest and unbelievable places and hatred from quarters you least expected... Life sure is a heady cocktail...but you wouldn't want it any other way...now would you.. ?? ;)