Sunday, October 07, 2012

Birthday Gift

“Baba, What will be my Birthday gift this time?” Rishi asked, with his mouth full of rice.
“Have I not told you, not to talk when you have food in your mouth. You will choke one day like this” his mom reprimanded him
He gulped the rice and repeated the question.

“It’s a surprise. You will know about it soon. Finish your dinner and wash your hands. We have to go feed the animals in the shed”
“Please baba, atleast give me a clue” he insisted
“Not tonight. Off you go now”

Rishi always loved this part of the evening, when he would feed the animals with his father. He had a feeling, these were not just animals, but his own siblings. He believed, that the animals could communicate with him. As he went near them and touched, and called out their names, their reaction always made his heart jump with joy. Every evening, he would stroke on their head, tickle their neck, and would put the feed in their respective areas. It was definitely a wonderful family. 

That night, he couldn’t sleep until late. He was thinking about his birthday gift. He would be 10 years old. He would no longer be a little boy. He was determined he would get the surprise out of Baba.

His mother woke him early the next day. She said he had to accompany baba, who was going to the city. Rishi was very excited. He guessed, it was probably for his birthday gift. They got into a non-stop, and so was he, talking non-stop to his baba. He could feel it when they were about to enter the city. It was noisy, but he loved the noise. He was always curious to know, why cities were so noisy, compared to his village. They entered a cab, which took them to a quiet place. Rishi was tucked into a comfortable bed. He was tired of the lack of sleep the previous night and also the bus journey, he drifted to sleep in a jiffy.

A couple of days later, on his birthday, his parents were standing near his bed. 

“Baba, is my gift ready?” Rishi asked.
“Almost my dear boy, almost” and his baba looked at the doctor. His mother pressed baba’s hands, she was then signaled to stand in a pre-decided place.

“So, Master Rishi, are you ready for your gift?” The doctor asked
“Ofcourse, can you please take out this blindfold, enough of surprises now” Rishi was getting impatient.

As Rishi opened his eyes slowly, he saw his parents for the first time in his life. He was not sure if it was them, only way to find out was to feel them. 
“Ma, baba is that you?” Rishi tried to extend his hand to reach them. Both held his hand and nodded. His mother had to wipe of the tears coming from her eyes. She couldn’t believe that her son could now see her.

“Ma, you are so beautiful and Baba, you are a strong man. I can see both of you. I can’t believe it. This is the best birthday gift” Rishi again spoke non-stop, till he was interrupted by the doctor to take some rest.

Couple of days later, on the way back to the village, Rishi was the most silent person in the bus. He did not want to miss out a single sight outside. As soon as they reached their house, he ran to the shed. He couldn’t identify which animal was called by which name. As soon as he touched them and called out their names, all the animals reacted in the usual way. Rishi was so glad, he could feel them and now he could see them as well.

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Amar Chitra Katha... Amar Rahe... Forever

As kids, most of us would have loved train journeys. An important reason why I loved these journeys was, it was a beginning to my reading habit, I fell in love with reading comics, I fell in love with Tinkle and the likes. Most importantly, I fell in love with Hindu Mythology.

My grandmother, mother, did tell  stories of Ramayana, Mahabharata, but to see those characters in books was a completely different experience. Ofcourse this was much before we saw the characters on screen on DoorDarshan.

The train journey meant, a magazine for my mother and 2 Amar Chitra Katha Books for me. And the best part was, I got to choose the comic books. In one such selection, I choose the fat book (compared to all the AMC books) of Ramayana. The cover page was captivating. The calm face of the Blue coloured Rama, with the beautiful Sita sitting next to him, a deer running in their vicinity, and the devoted Lakhsman nearing the couple, something which has never faded away from my memory. That has been my favorite cover page in the comic book genre.

There were times when I have read these comics and questioned my granny or my mother, on those sub plots in the main stories which they have told me. My mother was more than glad to get me those books so that I would stop troubling her with stories, alas, she could never get rid of the cute little curious brain of mine (ahem ahem.. I was cute back then)

My brother, was not as inclined as me towards Hindy Mythology, but I loved reading those books to him, rather narrate the whole tale, page by page, every picture in the book, and at times, add my own story to it. Proabably making up stories started at that time. And as if my mother dint have enough of me, she now had two of questioning, why Rama did not protest, why Hiranyakashyapa, had to be killed by half man half lion. How Parasurama and Rama both incarnations of Lord Vishnu, challenge each other? How could Ganesha made of Clay come to life? Lot of such questions, she would at times drive us away to study our curriculam, and during vacation times, point us to our granny, who would then tell us more stories.

My fascination towards Amar Chitra Katha’s Mythology stories did not end with my childhood, or even my studying days. When I was in an Indian Store in Atlanta, I happened to see a thin comic book. I recognized the logo, and went near the book with the same enthusiasm as I had during my childhood. Ofcourse, I read a couple of pages in that store, and with a heavy heart kept it down.

Now, everytime I see those books in any of the book store, and we are scouting for gifts to be given to kids, its always my first choice, a set of these books. And some day, when I have kids, and they grow up to start reading, I will get them loads of these comic books. 

Well, I can start collecting them now, who says only kids have to read them :)

Thursday, May 31, 2012

Ghanta Singh

Sometime last year,on one of the radio stations, they had a section called “Ghanta Singh”. I used to like it. At times it would be silly, but most of the times funny, on how the section went. Few months went by, and they changed it from Ghanta Singh to Mr.Ghanta, and the series continued. I dint understand why they removed the Singh in the first place. I then assumed, probably it was offending some people and that’s why the change. 

A few months back, in company, I saw one guy, a sardar. He wasn’t too tall, not too short either. Rather he had a cute face, in a way an innocent look. Words actually fail me here, in his description. But as soon as I saw him

I told G “He looks like Ghanta Singh”.
G was surprised, “When and Where have we ever seen Ghanta Singh in the first place”.
“I don’t know. I just feel. It’s him. And I am so glad to see him” was my response.

From that day, till date everytime I see him, I can feel my mind and heart calming down. It’s like being in a serene place. I don’t know what effect he has on me. But however tensed I am or upset I am, the moment I see him, it brings a smile on my face. It’s the affect a stranger has on you, unknowingly. I definitely wouldn’t want to go and speak to him or even let him know about this. It’s nice this way.

It’s been a long time since I have seen my “Ghanta Singh”.

Ofcourse there are some people, who can just spoil our mood, just by their aura in a room. But let’s look at all the good people who make moments better for us.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

The School

Sheshadri woke up at 5.00AM, his usual time every day. He completed his morning rituals and was at the breakfast table by 7.00aM. He had the day’s newspaper in his hand. While he was busy pondering over some important news item, his wife snatched the paper and kept a plate in front of him. It was his favorite breakfast.

“What’s special today? You have prepared my favorite after a long time” he winked at her

“Ofcourse it’s a special day. Isn’t It?” She smiled and went in to get the hot cup of filter coffee.

After the breakfast, Sheshadri went to his room to get dressed. He took out the neatly ironed crisp white dhoti. It had a very thin golden zari border. He then took out his favorite light blue shirt, and then wore the black coat, which made him look very handsome. As he proceeded to leave the room, near the door was his cream and gold turban, which he picked on the way out. As he was nearing the main door, he realized he forgot his most loved possession. He went back to his writing desk and picked up his pen. He put it in the pocket of his coat.

As Sheshadri walked, almost every day greeted him with a smile. There was no doubt; he was one of the most respected men in the entire community. In 20 minutes, he reached school. He had been a part of school, from the time he was a kid.

The first time he came to the school, was with his dad. They did not have uniforms then. He wore a mini white dhoti and a grey shirt with a black turban. His grandmother had pinned up a peacock feather to his turban. She always thought of him as Lord Krishna. He had been a top scorer in Mathematics, Science and Sanskrit. He had ventured out of the town to gain knowledge in the 3 subjects. He had come to the town and joined the same school as a teacher. In a few years, he was able to convince everybody that girls deserved to be in such a great school and they deserved to have girls in their school. Years later, his children were students of the school.

He had served the school for 35 years. It was time for him to retire. Neither him nor the school wanted him to leave. But they had to abide by the rules. As he entered his room, there was a note kept on his desk

“Beloved Sir,

You have always been our inspiration. We will be grateful our entire life. We would like to invite you to the auditorium, for a little surprise. Please grace the occasion.

-A humble request from your students and staff”

He remembered how he had gone in search of the best builders in town to get the auditorium built. It surely was one of the best in couple of towns nearby. As he neared, the building seemed too huge and overwhelming to him. The security guard near the door, smiled and bowed in respect, and opened the door. As Sheshadri stepped in, he could hear the loudest applause ever in his life. The number of people in the auditorium was astonishing. Students had come from all over the country. As he neared the stage, the crowd cheered. He took the centre stage, folded his hands in front of everybody, and bowed down. The applause had stopped but there was not a single person present who had not stood up. He gestured them to take their seats. He also took his place on the stage.

The farewell went for hours together, where Sheshadri did not utter a word, but everybody else wanted to convey what his role had been in their lives. He was moved by their speech, and content that he had touched so many lives. The vice-principal of the school came to make a speech. He wished Sheshadri for a peaceful life ahead and mentioned that they would be like lost sheep without his guidance, and that even though he would officially not be a part of the school, his suggestions and guidance would always be required.

Finally, it was time for Sheshadri to give the speech. He had never liked long speeches as a kid. He had followed the same principle as a teacher and till date as a principal. His speech was always, short and crisp. He made sure they left a mark on the audience. But today, he was emotional. He dint know how to talk. For the first time in years, he felt, he would probably fumble in front of his students. His first speech as a student flashed in front of him. He remembered, he was the 1st standard, and he was supposed to talk about a topic for a minute. The topic given to him was school. Sheshadri smiled. He knew what he was about to tell his audience.

As he came near the mike, students rose from their chairs. Sheshadri neared the mike.

“Thank you. Please be seated. I might fumble if I see all of you stand. You don’t want to do that to your old man now. Do you?” Everybody laughed and sat down.

“I remember the first time I was asked to give a speech in my life. I was given a minute to speak. As I picked the sheet of paper, my hands trembled. But the moment I read what was in the sheet of paper, I had a smile on my face and my father says, he saw a twinkle in my eyes. The topic I had to speak for a minute was “school”. I spoke for a few seconds. I finally ended saying “I will never ever leave this school. I love it here”. Little did I know then, that I would stick to my words. I have always loved the school, and the reason behind it is all you students, teachers and the staff. I will always have time for you people. And today as I leave from here, I would like to repeat what I had said decades ago, I will never ever leave this school. I love it here. My soul will always find peace here”

He bowed in front of everybody, waved his hand at them and moved out of the auditorium.

Monday, May 07, 2012


Ranga kept his foot on the bed sheet, while Swamy was trying to pull it, trying to cover his face. A few minutes later, when Swamy knew his efforts were futile, he rolled the sheets over Ranga. There were no beds to make early in the morning, for they had no beds to sleep on. They slept on the floor. There was no room to clean. They did not even have a house, and were satisfied sleeping on the pavement of the railway station. This was their life for years, from the time they were born.

“Ranga-Swamy”, the station master, Pratap called out, and both ran upto him. It was their breakfast time. This was the one meal he could provide to the duo. Pratap had given them shelter years before. Both were at his doorstep. His family was huge; hence he couldn’t afford to accept them to be a part of his family. He secretly allowed them to stay near the railway station. He would buy breakfast for them on the way. The porters took pity on them and allowed them to help in the work. They got their share and lived off it in a corner.

Even though both grew up together, they were different in many ways. Swamy was always the one who spoke to everybody; Ranga was the stronger one, but a silent follower of Swamy. His eyes did most of the talking. “Ranga-Swamy” were the names given by Pratap, to the lovely duo.

As days passed by, Swamy noticed Ranga was slowly losing his strength. He wanted to take Ranga to a doctor, but they hardly made money to satisfy the daily needs, spending for a doctor visit seemed out of bounds. Swamy decided, he would take help from Pratap, just this once. The duo never accepted any monetary help from him. They knew how difficult it was for Pratap to manage his family. They not intend to burden him with their problems. But, this time, Swamy couldn’t resist. It was not for him, but for his companion, who had been with him all these years. There was not a day which passed by, when ‘Ranga-Swamy’ were not together.

The next morning, Pratap handed over the breakfast to the duo. Ranga took the food and walked away, he wasn’t cheerful, like the usual. Swamy later discussed the problem with Pratap. Even though Pratap could not afford to take care of them, he considered them their own. He checked the amount he had in his safe deposit box. They decided to take Ranga for a check-up the next day.

A month later, Swamy woke up. But, this time, there was nobody to pull his sheets, nobody to roll over the bed sheets with him. His companion Ranga had moved over to a different world, leaving Swamy alone in the world, they had shared till then. Swamy quietly folded the sheets and kept it away. He went on with his routine; the smile on the 12 year old boy was missing.

A fortnight earlier, when Pratap and Swamy took Ranga for the doctor visit, they were shocked to learn, Ranga had only a few more days left. Though Pratap understood the situation, it was difficult for Swamy. Ranga was also around 12 years. The doctor then explained to Swamy, a dog’s life span is different from that of a human and Ranga, being a dog, was nearing the end of his life.

The week after the visit was most miserable. But, the duo had the satisfaction of being with each other, their entire life. Ranga had pulled the sheets from Swamy’s face and once they both had rolled over the sheets and on each other, they started panting for breadth. Ranga was on his best friend’s lap, in a few minutes he became motionless. Swamy knew, it was time. A tear drop from Swamy’s eyes trickled down to Ranga’s face.

A decade later, Swamy still is a porter in the railway station. He tries to help any stray animal. He has an old photograph of Ranga and him, which Pratap had gifted him. The void left by Ranga has not been filled by anyone in his life yet. Pratap hopes one day Swamy will find someone, who does just that, takes Ranga’s place in Swamy’s heart. “Ranga-Swamy” till then will remain inseparable.

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Nikon D7000, Canon 550 D, Nikon 5100 – G was on constant research for the past few months. Well, he was researching on DSLRs for a longer time, to choose among the 3 mentioned, it was a few months. I was not totally convinced that we need a SLR. We have a good Canon point and shoot S3 IS, and the person who uses it most is me. Ofcourse we had our discussions and anrguements. I did not find it sensible enough to spend thousands on something, we were hardly going to use.

D7000 was definetly a no from my side as it cost around 70K. I was finally ok with either of the other two cameras as they were nearly half of the first one. Fortunately, D7000 is not in stock from quite some time, hence leaving us with two cameras to choose. Last week we became the proud owners of Canon 550 D. Our anniversary is coming up this month, and what better gift to us, from us, which will be used by us.

As of now, both of us are exploring the camera. And I must say, I am enjoying it. It definelty worth it. Here is my fav pic till now, taken in Lalbagh on 6-May-2012. Reminds me of Cherry blossom in Macon, USA

Monday, April 16, 2012

The Bell

Kumar was returning to his village after a decade. The city had given him all that he had wished for, as a kid. It was a long journey in his life to blend into the city life. But, it would be longer to go back to his original life. It was as if all these years he was living in a dream. A dream, where he lived as someone else. He had no regrets of leaving his village, for he knew, he would return.

The bus was crowded, but Kumar had managed to get a window seat. It was probably the effect of his attire. The neatly pressed white shirt and the blue jeans, which he had changed into at the railway station, made him look no less than a movie star. The Polaroid dark glasses on his chalked out face, and the neatly set hair just added more stars to his appearance. As soon as he got the luggage loaded on the bus, the other passengers made way and let him select any seat on the bus. He was busy soaking in the scenery the route had to offer. He had four hours before he could reach his house, his village, the place where he spent his childhood.

His thoughts were running faster than the bus. Were they running ahead to see his future? Or to go back to the sweet memories of the place, was something nobody except Kumar could tell. He remembered his house and the temple. Both the places, where his favorites in the village. He would always enquire about them. He had unlimited memories from the time spent near the temple. He would go there every day with his friends. The banyan tree, on the banks of the river, just behind the temple, used to be their hangout place. He would run into the temple and try to touch the huge temple bell. He wasn’t tall enough then, to touch it. He would come back with a long face, to cheer him up, his friends would form a tower, for him to climb up and hit the bell. After this they would run away fearing the scolding from the temple priest.  Since Kumar would fall from the top of the tower, almost every day there would be wound or a bruise on his body.

The bell rang, but this time, it wasn’t the temple bell. It was the simple bell in the bus, which brought back Kumar from his memories. His village was just a kilometer away and this was to alert everybody to get ready to make their way to the door. The scenes seemed familiar to him. The long stretches of farmlands with men and women toiling in the harsh sun. He could see huge towers too in the middle of these farms. He understood them to be the assets of the cell phone companies. He wondered, even if there were problems for water and electricity, there was no dearth of cell phones.

The sudden break on the bus put a break to his train of thoughts. As he set his foot on the road, unloaded his luggage from the bus, and the bus continued his journey, he saw a dozen people waiting on the other side of the road. They had flower garlands, basket of flowers, drums, and trumpets. As soon as he crossed the road, he was surrounded by his uncles, cousins, who lifted him on their shoulders. The welcome party paraded on the roads of the village and finally stopped in front of the huge gate. The drums and trumpets did not stop until the huge gate opened.

Kumar stepped in, on one side, he saw the cowshed. There were a dozen of cows. Few years back, when he left, there were just a couple of cows and one of them was pregnant, due to deliver the calf. The sight of the cows and and cow dung in round shapes on the wall brought a smile to his face. He remembered how he would help his mother make those cow dung cakes. In that excitement, he would smear the dung all over his body and would get scolded by his mom for messing himself. His mother would remove his dirty clothes and bather him with the water from the well.

As he stared at the well, he visualized a small boy playing with a bucket of water. The boy’s mother was forcing him to quit playing, bathe quickly and change into the dry clothes. She was splashing water on him. He could feel the same, and realized, somebody was actually sprinkling water on him. He looked at the hand. They were the same tender hands which took care of him in his childhood. The same hands which bid good bye to him, when he was set to leave the village. He touched the hand and kept it on his head. His mother had promised him, whatever happened; she would never leave his side. She had kept her promise. She was his moral support.

He looked at her eyes. He could see tears, similar to how they were when he was leaving. There was one difference, this time he could spot the joy hidden n them. The tears were shining like diamonds. The mother and son hugged each other. As they parted, Kumar’s father stepped forward. He was waiting for this embrace for a long time. He met his relatives, distributed the gifts he had carefully packed for everyone. His mom just couldn’t take her eyes off him and her fingers were busy ruffling his hair. His father looked at him with pride, while Kumar felt content lying on the floor with his head supported on his mother’s lap.

Kumar was eager to visit his childhood hangout place, the temple. In the evening, he dressed up in the traditional attire and went to the temple. As he entered, he saw a tower of kids and one short boy, trying to reach the bell. Just when the boy was about to touch it, the priest came running with a stick to chase the boys. The tower collapsed. The boy touched the ground, luckily fell on his palms. Kumar could understand the feelings of the boy. He went near the boy, lifted him up and helped him strike the bell. The joy on the boy’s face gave Kumar immense happiness, probably much more than, is he had hit the bell himself.

A month later, there was a development in the temple. In one corner of the temple, there were multiple bells hanging at different heights. Everybody now had access to the bells. Ofcourse, this did not stop the boys to form the tower. This was to hit the bell which was six feet above the ground. Kumar felt, his decision to come back home was not wrong afterall.

Saturday, April 14, 2012


The sound is so mesmerizing. You can easily get lost in them. It’s a constant thing. Day or night, it is the same sound. The intensity might vary at times, but if you observe closely, it’s just the same.

What is it that I am writing about here? It’s the Waves. Waves in an ocean. In the vast ocean, there probably aren’t as many waves in the middle. But the shore has only waves. The sea shore is where we belong. There is humongous amount of human inhabitation, so to us, the first thing about ocean is water and of course waves. All we care about is how huge the waves are. Will it take away from us, something we love? But legend has it; the ocean never takes anything away from us forever. Whatever it takes, it returns the same, after a while. Well, in what condition, it is up to us to imagine.

I was just looking t the ocean. It was throwing at me, some small, some huge waves. What was it trying to tell me? Probably I could take a message:
A wave which looks huge, very huge at a distance, might die down, before it comes to the shore. This is like a problem in life. At far, it might look huge, but it might not be a problem at all, by the time it comes near us. But that doesn’t mean we ignore everything which is huge at a distance. Similarly, a wave which is small at far, might just build up and hit you as a huge one, and sweep you off your feet. Aren’t they so similar to our problems? It is up to us to remain alert at all times, yet enjoy the small waves the ocean throws at us. Just like our life.

As strange as it seems, the mighty ocean filled with salt water, and of course mysteries inside, has a great lesson to teach us, creatures on the shore.

Tuesday, March 06, 2012

The Come Back

In a village near Chitradurga, Sundari seemed like the happiest woman of the day. She had woken up an hour earlier than the usual. Had she slept at all the previous night was questionable. She had completed all her morning rituals much ahead of sunrise. Sundari was the river bank when she witnessed the sun rise. It was the usual time and the same scene, but on that day, it seemed like the most beautiful sunrise she had even seen in her lifetime. After the mesmerizing sight she filled her mud pots with water and headed back home.

As she reached home, her husband had woken up, completed his morning rituals and was offering his prayers to God. She hurried to the kitchen to make him a drink. He always had a glassful of Kashaya after the prayers. It was hot drink comprising of water boiled with pepper corn, cumin and few leaves of holy basil. She would add a clove and a cardamom too, so that it would lend a sweet flavor and acted as a mint too.

It was a special day for the couple. Their son was to return. He was taken away fourteen years back. Sundari remembered the day very well. The entire village had seen her cry. She wailed as if her son was about lose his life. In a way, it was true. He wouldn’t be a free person anymore. He would be bound. “Why at such a young age?” she would question her husband once in a while. He could only hide his tears and pat on her shoulder as she leaned on his body for comfort.

Her son would accompany her to the river bank. He loved flowing water. While she would sit at the banks, he would be busy swimming and splashing water all over. Once done and out of water, he would come running to her, she would wipe him and dress him up with fresh clothes. Both of them would sit on a rock nearby and watch the sun rise just behind the small temple on the huge mountain.

Both would go to the palace after this. Sundari was one of the maids there and her son was one of the playmates of the prince. The two boys were very close to each other. Together, they would have the best times. They would run around the palace troubling the guards and maids. Sundari once caught them red-handed, stealing a snack item from the kitchen. She chased them until they reached the Queen’s harem. The boys ran and hid behind the queen. She was a kind lady and did not punish either of them and sent them away to play, also assuring Sundari that it was alright.

She knew, for the prince, it wasn’t an offense, but her son, couldn’t be behaving this way in the palace. As a punishment, she did not take him to the the palace for a couple of days, but was forced to bring him back on the little prince’s orders.

Days passed by, one day the guards were at Sundari’s doorsteps. They were summoned at the king’s courtroom. She knew, they were in trouble, because of their son. They were in the courtroom; the couple were trembling with fear, although the boy was fearless and wore a beautiful smile and a twinkle in the eye.

What they heard in the courtroom was unbelievable. Sundari was speechless. She did not know how to react. They just bowed in front of the king and came back home. That night Sundari had tears flowing on her cheeks like flood. The next day, when the guards came to take her son away, she was uncontrollable. Finally, her husband had to drag her into the house, so that they wouldn’t come in the way of the king’s orders.

After 14 years, she dint know if her son would recognize her. She wanted to make dishes which he used to love and relish. But now, she wasn’t sure if he liked the same stuff. She din't even know, if her son would like anything back at home. Sensing her anxiety, her husband comforted her. He assured her, their son would love anything she had made. After all, he wouldn’t have had the luxury all those years, away from them.

Late in the morning, the guards came in a carriage and let him out. There was a man in his early twenties. He body seemed to be sculpted. He had a heavy bangle of sorts hanging on one of his wrists. A maroon cloth wrapped his upper body, and a shining white dhoti as a contrast for the bottom. His left ear was pierced and had a small yet thick ring. There was bright red vermillon placed in the centre of his temple. As the wind blew the shoulder length wavy hair, just tried to fly backward. He looked like the most handsome man, the village had seen in years.

Sundari was amazed at this sight. It was her son, in front of her, in flesh and blood. She wanted to run upto him and hug him, cup his face in her hands and feel the moment of truth. She was awestruck by his appearance.

He was looking at his humble abode. The house was decorated with wild flowers. The simplicity made it appear beautiful. But what caught his attention, was the sight of the couple, his parents. They looked the same as the day he left them. There were probably stands of silver on their head, but they were mostly dominated by the black hair. Also, a very few wrinkles, just to prove they had grown wiser.

He could no longer control his urge and ran upto them. He bent down to seek their blessings and finally the moment, which the trio longed for, he hugged his parents. It was lunch time and the couple were busy catching up with their sons life till date. They were grateful to the king for sending their son, along with the prince, to the Gurukul.

Saturday, February 11, 2012


Ragini, a 10 year old, was the most cheerful girl Mandari Village had seen in years. Everybody in the village loved her. Every morning, she would be seen coming out of a place as good as heaven, with a pot on her head. She would walk till the river, to fill water. They had a huge well at the backyard; this water was used for household purposes. They needed the water from the sacred river only for the rituals. She would wear a long skirt, a matching blouse both with zari border. She would have 2 thick long plaits, and a strand of Jasmine buds adored one of the plaits. She had a dozen of glass bangles to match with her dress. But there was one way, which couldn’t prevent anybody from noticing her. Her silver anklets, with a numerous small bells. The moment stepped, the anklets would catch the attention of everybody around.

With a pot of water on her head, Ragini playfully would walk thru the fields; greet everybody on her way towards the house. The house where she stayed wasn’t less charming. Small hills surrounded the huge house. The entrance of the house was a beautiful arch, with iron rods shaped like arrows pointing down, forming the border for the arch. There was a long corridor, adorned with classy antique artifacts and paintings. The house had a smell of fresh flowers.

It was the rainy season, as soon as Ragini entered the house with the pot of water, it had started drizzling outside. She loved the rains. She had heard stories from the elders at home, about heaven and gods. And when it rained, she would run to the backyard, and lean at the door and watch the scenery change. It looked like heaven, same as the stories she had heard. At front, the arch seemed like a waterfall, with water dripping from the arrows pointing down. Once the rain stopped, the drops of water at the tip of the arrows would shine like crystals. Ragini would try to jump and touch these crystals. She could never succeed and the guards near the house would lift her up so that she could touch them. She always told them “I will grow tall one day, and you will not have to lift me anymore”. They could only smile at the little girl’s innocence. She would then run into the house, and into her father’s arms. He would lift her up and turn her around. She would get a thrill in rotating, just like a fan on the roof. Her mother would see this from the kitchen door, smile at Ragini and her father. She would serve the breakfast and Ragini insisted her dad feed her every morsel she ate.

Years passed by, Ragini was turning into a fine young girl. She would still go to the river everyday, to fetch the pot of water. Their house was still the heaven she imagined it to be. There were just minor changes. She no longer needed anyone’s help to touch the crystal like water droplets, for now she could jump a little and reach them easily. Her father couldn’t lift her up and twirl her around. But she insisted, he hold her hands, and they make rounds under the fan. She would still like to be fed breakfast by her father. But now her mother no longer smiled at this. Instead there was worry on her face, a tear drop in the corner of her eye. Ragini tried to ask her mother, but was shooed away saying she was imagining.

Then came the auspicious month of weddings, many of Ragini’s friends who were younger than her, at the age of 13 were getting married. She would wonder at times, why her parents unlike others never worried about her wedding. It was not that she wanted to go away from her parents. But the unusual behavior of her parents haunted her. But everytime she would look at her mother’s worried face, she understood, probably mother was thinking about Ragini’s wedding, and that is why the worry.

It was a special day, Ragini would turn 15. She was dressed up in the most expensive saree and ornaments. The 2 plaits which showed her innocence, was not present that day. Instead it was one thick plait, and she looked like an elegant lady. The sting of jasmine buds, added to the beauty of her long hair. Everybody in the household was ready, with fine clothing and jewellery. There was just one thing missing, on them. The smile. Ragini was the only cheerful girl in the entire house. She couldn’t understand, why were everybody mourning. She went and asked her father if she was dead. He was holding back his tears all the while, and on hearing this question, he burst out crying aloud. For her this was a horrible sight, she had never ever seen such a sight in her life. Her father was crying.

Everybody boarded the horse carriage, she insisted, she sit with her father. She wanted to know the reason for him crying. As the carriage moved forward, she kept asking her father, why he cried. His eyes were closed, but she could see the tear drop in the corner of the eye, trying to have a leap from his face on his shoulder. She took the end of her saree and wiped off the tear. She wanted to change the mood of her father. She started talking about the trees, the animals, the river, her friends to cheer him up. Her father managed to give a fake smile to her. She was content; she had managed to bring a smile on her father’s worried face. As she turned back, she glanced the carriage her mother was in. She was crying too. All the ladies in that carriage were trying to console her, but were not successful. She could sense they were going in the same route, which they usually take to visit her maternal grandparents. She was concerned, and hoping, her grandparents were safe.

Just before entering the village, the carriages took a turn, and stopped near a huge ground. It seemed like the whole village had gathered. As people from the carriages went in, a couple came up to Ragini’s parents and greeted them. Ragini’s family were shown a place to rest, It was under a huge banyan tree. A confused Ragini, now pleaded her parents to explain the happenings. Finally her father told her about something, she was unaware in her lifetime.

She was 3 years old, when Ragini was married off to a boy. He was not more than 6 years. When he was around 10, a deadly disease struck the village, and most of the kids lost their lives. As fate would have it, Ragini’s husband parted with the mortal world. Since Ragini was still a kid, when this happened, elders decided she should live her childhood as a happy child, and not knowing about this unfortunate event which had ruined her life. Today, as she was crossing the threshold of childhood and entering adolescence, she would be made aware of her life.

Ragini was shocked, even though her physical body had grown out of the innocent childhood, her mind had not.

“Father, What will happen to me now?” was a innocent question she asked him. Before he could answer, a few ladies took her away. Her father could listen to her cries, her mother couldn’t take all this and wanted to save her daughter from the rituals, but was not allowed to go anywhere.

Within a few minutes, the beautiful, cheerful and colourful Ragini changed into a lifeless body. Her soul was taken away. Now all that stood in front of her parents, was a body, who did not know how to react to the situation.

In a few minutes, after the soul parted from her body, she was placed in the sacred fire, for a ritual named ‘Sati’. Her lifeless body turned ashes.

Friday, February 10, 2012

Kill To Win

The “Kill to Win” fights happened every year. The crowd had gathered in huge numbers. It was the day of the “Big” fight. The Finale. Both the fighters were experts. They had not lost a single fight. They had never faced each other in any tournament. They were brothers, hence were never allowed to compete against each other. These fights never enthused the duo. It was the pressure of the audience, and the money involved in these fights, the owners coaxed the duo to participate in the fights.

The knives were sharpened and tied to them, this could be used later. Both of them seemed to be well fed, for they looked bigger than the normal. As they took the centre stage, the crowd cheered. They were doped, as the anger in their eyes dint seem genuine. How else could the owners get the two to fight against each other? They were at their respective stands waiting for the whistle.

The whistle blew and they ran towards each other. There was a head on collision. Neither of them backed out. It seemed like none of the other parts existed. They used their head to hit each other. The knife tied also came into play. There were scratches found on both of them. The heat on the centre stage increased. Drops of blood on the stage were visible. Both of them were bleeding at many places. But the format was “Kill to Win”, so no mercy was taken. The match wouldn’t end until one of them had the last breath of life.

There came a moment when, one of them was too fatigued. He wasn’t able to respond to the blows. He was on the verge of collapsing.

Just then a whistle blew. The crowd was confused. They looked at the direction of the whistle. They were shocked to see, police vans coming in. Behind the vans was the ambulance. The stretchers came out and fighters were carefully carried on the stretchers, into the ambulance. It was a Veterinary Ambulance. The police had decided, they had to stop these “Cock Fights”, else the PETA would give them a tough time. What better time to do this, than on the final day of “Kill to Win” Cockfights.

Thursday, February 09, 2012

The Race

The view from the mountain top was amazing. Vikas did not know if there existed anything better in the world. This would be his first time. He was planning to jump from this point on his bike. He wasn’t supposed to take this path. It was Out of Bounds for racers. He even wondered, how he was allowed till this point, inspite of the barricades around. Vikas had taken the wrong way, in the middle of the race, by mistake, and that’s how he reached that point.

He knew he had to get back to the race, though he dint know how he would do it. There was just one thought hovering his mind at that instant, to jump from the point, so that he could reach somewhere near his competitors.

Vikas stood at the tip for a couple of minutes. All of a sudden he jumped. He had a safe landing. To his surprise, he was just 100m from the winning point. He cruised that distance and lifted both his hands embracing the win. Even though he was the winner, there was some confusion on how he reached the point. The software cleared the confusion. He had got extra point for the stunts performed, When he jumped from the tip of the mountain, he had performed the greatest stunt in the history of the race. This made him gain all the points to put him in a place ahead of his competitors.

“GAME OVER” flashed on Vikas’s laptop screen. He was overjoyed. Infact the feeling was much more than that. He placed the laptop on the bed. He sat and pushed his wheelchair towards the kitchen to have the yummy lunch which his mother had prepared.

As he closed the door behind him, a newspaper cutting stuck to the door fell down. It read “Star Bike Racer, Vikas Manchanda loses his limbs performing a dangerous stunt on the mountains”

Wednesday, February 08, 2012

Love Naturally!!!

Last night, on radio, the RJ was discussing about Confusion in Love (nowadays). How Love has lost its meaning in the modern times? How people don’t care for each other? How Love is shallow these days? Worst of all – comparing what our parents had what our grandparents had, and how we don’t have it.

Girls nowadays think, would the guy be able to provide here basic needs? Will I get so much property if I marry this guy? Seriously, do girls think like this, when they want to get married. Maybe the parents think about it, to make sure the girl has a tension free life, but that’s not the basis for love. Or is it?

I overheard this or read this somewhere, only if you give a girl a diamond necklace, will she love you. How shallow a thought is that? That definelty cannot be true love. May be a passing cloud, but not your soul mate. I am sure, that guy hasn’t fallen in love.

I am not going to talk about the whole generation here. But, why can’t we think in a positive way.

For one, the situation in which our parents and grandparents were is totally different from what we are currently. During the time of our grandparents, they were married off at a young age, even before they could understand what love is all about. In most of the times, the girl was financially dependent on her husband. So at that time, did the girl not think – will my husband provide for my basic needs?

Let’s say, the husband treated her badly or she did not like her husband (for whatever reasons), what could she do? She couldn’t go back to her parent’s house, for various reasons. They had many other sons and daughters to be married off, hence couldn’t take care of her. They couldn’t fathom the idea that the guy can be wrong in any way. Or for a simple reason like – What would the society say?

I have heard stories from our grandmothers on how, ladies stuck to their husbands, not because of love, but because of these reasons too.

Nowadays, most of us don’t have these reasons; our parents want us to be happy. They are ready to hear us out, if there is something wrong in the marital relationship. Girls are financially independent; hence don’t need the husband to take care of financial needs. And if we are not happy, we probably give a damn to what the society thinks of us.

So then, why are we still with our spouses? Is it not love? It’s not for the financial need, it’s the emotional need, that we stick to each other. It’s because, we want to be with each other, live thru all the obstacles, joy and sorrow in life.

The other day, a relative said, “Oh you guys travel so much. When we were of your age, I wouldn’t dare to ask my husband to take me out even for an evening outing”. So does it mean we are bossy? No. It’s just that we have better rapport with our spouse, and we are in a better position to discuss, what both of us want in life. We are not scared of each other.

Once in a while at home, we have these discussions, where past is compared to present. I was glad, when recently in such a discussion at home, G’s grandma told him, “she doesn’t have the need to stay with you, and she is here, coz she wants to be with you. In our generation, ladies didn’t have an option; they stayed with the guy they married. Now if girls stay, it’s actually for the love and the emotional connect”. She went on to tell us, various stories of ladies of her generation, who stayed on, definitely not because of love, but due to family pressures.

You can never expect one generation to be like the other. Our previous generations think, we are spoilt, aren’t we doing the same thing? When we see kids with gadgets, or behaving rudely, we sigh – Kids, these days!!!

“When we were kids, we did this, we did that”, give them time, give them good moral values, you will see that turn out to be good too in long run. Were we never indifferent with our parents? Were we never rude to other people? Even if we never showed it, did we not nurture some hatred towards somebody? The kids nowadays are probably more open, which gives the parents more exposure to set things right sooner in life.

Guys in the previous generations, did not want to move an inch at home. It was considered the wife’s duty. Nowadays, guys help. They whine and complain, but when they see their better halves struggle, they do their bit. Its not just the spouse, some guys help moms out too. I know of some people who do help their moms, so don’t think its just for girlfriends or wives. Guys and girls are changing. For better or for worse, it depends on the situation.

I am not saying, there are no negatives in this generation. Ofcourse, there are money minded girls, there are guys who are opportunists, there are people who want to have a girl-friend or boy friend just to show off in front of others.

But trust me, when they come across a person, whom they really love, nothing else matters. And that’s when you have found true love. This doenst in anyway guarantee, you will not fight with the person, but yes, you will always be together.

Everybody has their own definition of this word – “Love”. It can only be felt, when you actually are in the feeling. This love is for any relation. You know you love a person, when you feel it. Nobody has to tell you, you don’t need to prove it to anybody.

Phew!!! Long post… and I am done venting out I suppose

Wednesday, February 01, 2012

Little Guy

This was the first time he was out on the roads alone. His mother had warned him, but he was adamant. He was standing, all alone to cross the road. It was peak hour, and the road had all possible vehicles in huge numbers. He had to dodge all this to reach the other end of the road.

He kept one foot in the front, in a moment he pulled it back, just before a bike went past him. He could recollect his mother’s warnings. But he had to prove to her, he was no longer the little guy.

The next time he was careful and covered a few steps. He had just covered quarter of the distance, a car just passed by, he took a few steps back, another bike behind him, he had to take few steps forward. He was hoping he had wings to fly away. Yet, he had managed to cover most of the distance, doing this go back-come front routine.

“Look at that little guy crossing the road” a guy in the car was telling his wife.She was trying to get a glimpse of this, when she saw a huge tyre crushing the little one.

The mother, stood helpless, on the other end, not able to go near her son, after his death.

“Oh no, you shouldn’t have told me to see that” the lady in the car said
“What happened?” he asked

“What’s the use of camouflage if it can’t save you? The little chameleon is dead. An auto just ran over it” she felt sorry for the little guy.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Crowded Bus

“The bus is yet to start, it’s already full. I was just lucky to get a seat. Call it my luck, that I got a seat facing everybody in the bus. This meant total entertainment. I was scanning the bus for interesting faces.My eyes stopped when I noticed a pretty face. She wasn’t a beauty queen, but you could just feel some warmth in her face. Any guy would just fall for this girl. She had the window seat, hence was busy looking outside. Rishi, you should come in this bus often.”
"When will this bus start? I am lucky today, to get a window seat. The aisle seats are so boring. Now I can just forget all my worries, and just observe people on the roads. Or I can just keep the window open, close my eyes and feel the air, which would start hitting my face, in sometime. Aah!!! There comes the driver, I hope he starts the bus soon."
"Nice Tea. Now it’s time to get into the bus, and wage a war against traffic. Everybody thinks, we bus drivers have it easy. Nobody realizes how much stress we have to deal with, due to traffic. It’s the peak hour; it will take 2 hours to reach the last stop. I am already hungry, wonder what my wife has packed for lunch. If it’s not good enough, I’ll exchange it with Suma’s lunch. After all having a lady conductor in the bus has its advantages."
"I think we should start in 2 minutes. I will finish the first round of giving out tickets. It seems there is going to be ticket checking after 2 stops. Ticket… Ticket… Why don’t you people bring any change? Are we running a bank here, that you will give us a Rs.500 note for a Rs.7 ticket and I will have the change. Move back, move back. Uncle, why are you standing here? Couldn’t you ask one of the young boys to give you a seat? Hello Sir, We know you are staring at a pretty face, but do you mind doing that standing. Uncle can take a seat here."
"I gave up the seat for the old man. Not only did I lose the sight of the pretty girl, but I got pushed back and forth in the bus. What a crowded bus. Rishi, lesson to be learnt, never enter a crowded bus."

Friday, January 13, 2012

Eve-teasing and the likes

Eve Teasing, this topic is being discussed a lot these days. I am not even going to put forth my point of view on whether dressing of a girl is the cause or not etc etc. All I want to do is vent out, the incidents in my life.

I was in school, we had to go to Majestic for a movie. We dint have car those days, so if 4 of us were to travel, it was either bus or auto. Auto was usually taken during the return journey. We got down from the bus, were walking towards the theatre. I was walking holding my mom’s hands. I saw her walking with elbow stretched outwards, wondered why. I felt a pinch, when I turned to see, I saw a man grinning at me. I turned my face and continued to walk. A few more pinches here and there, I understood, I had to use my hand in defense. Next time we went to Majestic, I knew I had hit a few men with my elbow, and some pretty hard too.

Another incident happened when I was in II PUC/ 12th std. I used to go to early morning classes. It was usual that my dad drop me to the class, not because I couldn’t walk, but I used to wake up late and my dad had to literally go in full speed on his Bajaj scooter so that I reached on time. One day, dad had to go and pick my brother from the railway station at that time, who was coming back from the trip. I go up early enough to walk in a peaceful pace. It was 6 in the morning, and Bangalore was definetly hot at that time, I had worn a salwar kameez, a jacket with a hood (definetly not the attractive kinds). I was walking at a fast pace, lest I get late for the class. I heard some guy talking. I ignored it initially, thought he was talking to someone. I then heard him, calling out to me. I was scared now. I turned back, and he was alone and was definetly calling me. I increased my pace, I could hear him coming faster towards me. I literally started running. It was a panic situation, and I dint know what to do. I thought I will pick a nearby stone and throw at him, that’s what I used to do, if a dog chased me. Luckily, I came near a house, where some guy was taking out his bike, and an elderly, may be middle aged was watering the plants. I ran to that house, and told the aunty that this guy is following me. Aunty told, her son to get the guy, but seeing me go to that house, and a guy starting the bike, the guy who was following me, ran away super fast. The lady pacified me, and told me if I wanted a drop somewhere, her son could drop me. After this, I was very skeptical to take favours from any stranger, and politely refused, and left to my classes. I somehow did not find the courage to tell my mom, I thought she would then be scared to send me alone everytime. After that, I was a little skeptical, but found the courage.

But till today, I am extremely careful when I walk alone, esp if the road is deserted.

When I was in Engineering, a boy, who was probably in school, whistled at me. I was totally pissed off. I told him, once more I see you do this, you will see my sandal on your face.

In buses, I have hit so many guys with my elbow, who have tried to act smart, poked a safety pin at some guys who are trying to literally fall on you, when there is space to lie down and sleep in the bus. I have seen old men, waiting to hit their graves, do such indecent acts, it only makes you cringe at such people.

There are many such incidents which have happened, which kind of makes you feel a little insecure. At the same time, when you see your dad, uncles, brothers, friends, husband respecting women, it makes you realize, you are not an item, your body is not something to be ashamed of. God has given you something special.

You are SPECIAL...

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Unknown number

He was plannning to call her today, again. It was 4th day in a row, she had avoided his call. He had no choice but to call her. He had got her number 10days back and he had called her since. After a few calls, she started ignoring him. He couldnt let her go. He had to call her. Just when he was wondering how to reach her, an idea flashed in his mind.

Her phone rang. It was an unknown number. She was in a fix, but finally decided to pick the call. As soon as he heard her sweet voice, he said, "Hello Madam. This is a call from XXXX phone services. You are our valued customer....."

Monday, January 09, 2012

Street chase

Their eyes were red. Everybody could sense the anger. This was not a rare sight in the locality. Infact people were fed up with the gang wars. They wished somebody catch the two groups and punish them. A couple of them from the rival gang had entered the street and the whole group just chased them out. The loud noise had created such ruckuss. The children in the street were petrified to get out on the streets when the Street chase was on.

The groups did not believe in using any weapons. The physical strength was all they were proud of. The leaders of the 2 gangs were young and energetic. They weren’t too handsome, but powerful nevertheless, and the faces could make you cringe at times. One of them was as dark as the night, but had a white patch around his eye, making him noticeable among the group. He was made the leader. He made it clear, and marked the territory, nobody could dare enter their place.

The other leader wasn’t left behind. Though his skin dint show any difference from the rest, his eyes had a weird colour, and would make you shudder. It was as if, anybody could get hypnotized. He was very young when he became the self proclaimed leader of his gang. It was very difficult for anybody new to find a place in either of the gangs.

One early morning, the people were woken up by a big commotion. They peeped through the windows of their homes, there was bloodshed. Both the gangs were on top of each other, literally tearing each other apart. The corporator of the locality was informed, he called the right authorities. Finally 2 vans arrived on the street and somehow managed to get all of them in the vans.

As the vans departed, happy people were seen on the streets. “Finally, our Streets are free of the Dog menace”, somebody heard a man talking on phone.

Saturday, January 07, 2012

Journey from Princess to a Queen

Anagha, was the eldest child of her parents. Her mom dreamt of her daughter’s wedding since the day she was born. Every time she visited the jewellery shop, she would buy something for her daughter. When Anagha would disapprove of the ornament, her mom would just say, you are not wearing it now, it’s for your wedding. Anytime, Anagha said, “Mom, it’s a lovely saree”, her mom would never wear it. It would go in the suitcase labeled – Anagha’s Sarees. All the old clothes would be given off to the steel vessel vendor, and a kitchen utensil would be bought. But the kitchen would never see any of these new vessels, instead they would find a place in a carton labeled – Anagha’s Kitchen set. Though her mom dreamt of her daughter’s wedding, she never forced it on her. She let her daughter dream about her future. She let her daughter fly, explore the world, understand what’s good or bad for her.

Years passed by, and the time finally came when Anagha chose her life partner. The two of them were engaged and were to get married in 6 months time. While Anagha was excited and anxious about her new life, her mom was a similar state. Her dream was coming true. Her only daughter, her best friend would be married. The preparations had started 25 years back, now was the time to implement all the grand plans. There were only discussion at home was about the wedding. There were times when Anagha would get frustrated, as there was no other topic discussed at home. She understood, her mom wanted to make the wedding day a special day for Anagha. She dint want to leave out even a minute detail. Anagha even fought with her mom, that, she was stressing over this wedding, and health was taking a back seat. But there was nobody who could stop her mom’s excitement.

On the wedding day, Anagha’s mom looked at her, took her face in her palms, kissed her forehead, and quickly left the room, for her to get ready for the wedding. It was time, for the Kanyadaana. Both mother and daughter had decided, they wouldn’t cry. The priest asked Anagha to sit on her dad’s lap. For a few moments, she went back to her childhood, where she would run and sit on her dad’s lap, everytime mom came running behind her to punish her for the mischief. She would sleep in the bus, and dad would carry her on her shoulder and make her lie on the bed. She wouldn’t find place in the bus, dad would make her sit on her lap. A couple of days before the wedding, when her hands were full of henna, her dad made her drink the glass of water, and mom gave her the Kai Thuthu (feeding with her hands). She felt her life was running like a movie in front her. She realized, her parents life revolved around her. That day, would be the last she would sit on her dad’s lap, as his darling daughter.

As she sat, the priest, asked the groom to bring his hand forward with his palm open, then he asked her dad to hold her palm and keep it on the groom’s hand. Her mom was supposed to pour the water on the coconut, which these 3 hands held. The priest was residing the mantra. The gist of the whole thing was, the dad was giving away his daughter to the groom forever. She was no longer his daughter alone, but the groom’s partner for life. When Anagha heard this, her eyes filled up with tears, she dint want to shed any, as she had promised her mom. She just looked up to her mom, saw her in the same state, they both just smiled at each other. Then all of a sudden, she felt her dad’s hand was slipping away, and the only hand holding was her husband’s. Her dad had given her away.

She turned back, saw tears in her dad’s eyes for the first time in her life. But she sensed that he wasn’t really sad, he just held her cheeks in his palm and then kissed her on her forehead. All of a sudden, she saw her brother shaking hands with her and her husband. He was sad, but he was happy too, he too had tears in his eyes. She saw all her uncles, aunts, cousins come and wish her. She had controlled her tears, but could sense the mixed feelings everybody had.

The priest called the couple for more rituals to be followed. The emotional moment had passed. Everybody got back to work, taking care of guests, inviting people for lunch, giving gifts to the guests. The rituals continued and after the lunch, Anagha was to be sent to her husband’s house. Her parents now placed her hands in the hands of her in-laws and husband, stating, she would be their daughter now. Anagha was again fighting her tears. “How could they?” she thought. “How can they tell them, I am their daughter? I will never be anybody’s daughter except my parents” she was angry. But in a moment she realized, what it meant. The priest was telling Anagha, “From now, you have 2 sets of parents. One of your own, one of your husbands, treat them equally”.

After all the rituals, she was sent to her room to relax and change, and get ready for the reception in the evening. She went to the room, looked at the mirror, she could no longer hold her tears. She broke down. She cried to heart’s content. Her aunt came in the room. She was shocked to see her cry. After consoling a little bit, Anagha got a hold on herself. She hugged her aunt, her mom’s sister, just like her mom. “Take care of mom” she said. Her aunt could relate to the feelings, for she too had gone through the emotions, years back. She smiled and said “Don’t worry, all of us will”. Just then Anagha’s mom entered the room, she ran into her mom’s arms, and both hugged each other as if, the world was going to end.

Finally, when it was time for Anagha to go with her husband, her parents told her husband “She is our princess, but we are sure, you will treat her like a Queen”