Sunday, May 17, 2009

The Rao's Part 2

this is a continuation of the Roa's Part 1 

"Oh god please help him this time! I will fast now every saturday also if he gets the visa. I will walk all the way up the Tirupati hill for your darshan. I will also make sure this time Ramesh shaves his head for you. Oh god! Please help my son." kausalya prayed just like any other Indian mother. This time she had a long list of offerings and just a small request, the Visa.

They say when it comes to the Visa it's all pure luck. 
"After the terrorist attacks, I have heard they are rejecting Visas. I tell you it is very difficult to get one these days. You know my brother's neighbor's son, his Visa was rejected recently. I have heard he even had a 75% in his bachelors. By the way, how much did Ramesh get? Does he has distinction? kausalya... are you even listening to what I am saying?" Malini, kausalya's neighbor was trying to share her insights. 
But.. Kausalya.. she was lost in her prayers. Malini's words, though they reached her ears but they never made it to her mind. 
Kausalya knew only one thing. Each and everything is in the hands of the almighty. And she was determined to please him.

"Maaaaaaaa..... I did it... I flying to the USA... MBA.... mom... your son is going to be an M.B.A," Ramesh screamed with joy and hugged Kausalya. At that moment kausalya forgot everything, herself, her god, all she knew that it was the happiest moment of her son's life and so as her's. 

Tears and Kausalya were close sisters. Kausalya expressed her every emotion with tears. She would cry if she was sad, she would cry even if she was happy and even in anger. 
"Your name should have been ganga instead of Kausalya," Srinivas would always remark.
But today they were the happy ones. 
The god of visa had indeed answered her prayers.

"I will have to pay four lakhs as first instalment to the college in a week," Ramesh declared.
"Yes yes. Don't worry. Your father will look after that," Kausalya said with a certain conviction although she didn't knew how her husband, an employee at a small private firm, could manage that.
"In one month I will be in California, USA. Mom do you even know how far is California from here? It takes almost a day even if you travel by the plane," Ramesh seemed all excited about his future.

And all kausalya could see was that her son would leave her and go to some far far land. Twenty two years and never ever was he away from her. Or was he?
She remembered, two years ago Ramesh had gone to a tour with his friends for a week. She remembered how she would call him day and night. She was so worried about his food. And about his safety, infact she never ever wanted to allow him to go so far to Goa all alone with his friends. But Ramesh would not listen to her.

"Will you call me everyday from California?" Asked kausalya with tears in her eyes.
"Of course I will Ma! Maaaaaa... Please don't cry not today at least. I am in such a happy mood," Ramesh tried to cheer her up. 
"Well I have lot of things to do. I need to do my shopping, by the way I need all new clothes I tell you. I will also have to buy a laptop and the most important thing I need to book the ticket as early as possible. There are lot of things. I better write them down," Ramesh was lost in his own world. Infact in his new world.

"It must be your father. Open the door beta," Kausalya screamed from the Kitchen. 
"Oh mom! Please do it for yourself. I am busy on the internet," Ramesh replied.
Rubbing her face with her dough hands she made a dash to the door. She knew it, it was her husband. 
"Ramesh got the Visa!" kausalya cried out with ecxitment as soon as she saw Srinivas.
"He got the Visa today morning. Didn't I tell you my prayers would be answered." She repeated thinking Srinivas might not have listened to her properly.
Srinivas looked tired more than usual. 
He did hear the news, but there was no excitment, no happiness in his face. No reaction.
'What happened? Let me get you a glass of water first. I know you must be tired," kausalya rushed to fetch a glass of water. 
"So what do you think? Oh! I am sorry. Ramesh should tell you this by himself. let me call him," kausalya tried to call Ramesh but was interrupted by Srinivas.
"No. Not now. I am not in a good mood." 
"What happened? Is everything ok?" 
"Nothing. Just leave me alone for sometime."
"But tell me what happened!" Kausalya tried to ask.
"Nothing. I told you I am not in a good mood!" Srinivas screamed.
"What do you mean you are not in a good mood. Are you not happy for your son? Don't you wish that he should live a happy life? Now that today he has achieved something, isn't it your duty to share his happiness?" kausalya went on.
"It's not that. I am tired. We will talk tommorrow."
"Tommorrow? When do you have time for us? Always work work work. Why did you even marry me when you don't have time." Tears ran through her cheeks.
"There are so many things you should attend to. So many responsibilities. We have to pay the fees in a week. He has to book his flight ticket. Buy few things. It's only a month you know. We also have to go to Tirupati. So many things..... when do we have time to talk." 
"It's not that! You don't understand!"
"What it is that I don't understand?" 
"I lost my job today!!!!" Srinivas screamed and silence followed.


to be continued.....

p.s: I dedicate this story to my parents 

Note: the characters and the incidents describes in the story are purely fictitious and bear no resemblance with anyone living or dead. Any resemblance is purely a coincidence.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

The Voice

I tried to wash my eyes so that I could wake up. I looked at the watch with my eyes half open half closed, still wanting to shut down and go to bed. 
The watch said half past two in the morning. 
I knew it was an odd time but "I have to do this!" I told myself. "Time is never an issue for a writer! And in fact the night is the best time to write, with so much silence!"

"Oh for GOD sake switch off the light and go back to sleep you fool!!" someone screamed from somewhere. I looked around to find who it was.
"Hello Mr.! Where are you looking? I am speaking from inside you." The voice replied again.
"Inside me?? What the crap are you talking? Are you some kind of ghost or something?" I was terrified. 
"Aaah! You idiot haven't you seen those Indian movies where in the inner conscience reflects in the mirror and talks with the hero! Arey yaar I am your 'Antar-Atma'."
"What the crap are you talking! Why don't you show yourself!" I screamed with fear.
"Well sorry dude! We Antar-Atmas have not yet evolved so much that we can show up ourselves." The voice replied calmly.
I didn't know what to do at all. Fear, confusion, bewilderment, every strange emotion seems to haunt me. 
"How can I trust. I need proof!" I rambled something out of my mouth finally.
"Proof?? Well it's like asking yourself who are you! Well I won't mind your stupidity, go on." 
"Tell me my name..and.. my date of birth!" 
"Mythreya... a.k.a matty, maddy... born on 23rd feb 87 at Kurnool, a small city in Andhra Pradesh. Want more proof? Ask me!"
"My favourite color?"
"black and white. And you like these colours because your ex-girl friend Pooja loved them. And don't be stunned. I also know everything about Pooja. I know that you still love her somewhere deep in your heart, though you pretend as if you have forgotten her and moved on. So what more do you want to know? The first time you met her? The first time you held her hand? First kiss? About your first....."
"Enough! Shut up now! Why the hell are you out of my body suddenly! Let me work. I am a writer!" 
"Aaaaaaaah! Don't tell me this crap! Writer! Who the hell told you so?" 
"Writer! Nice way to cover up your joblessness. The thing is your are worthless."
"Now if you don't shut up...."
"What can you do to me? Can you punch yourself? Can you kick yourself? Ha ha ha. Atleast someone is having fun!"
"I don't want to talk to you. Let me do my work. I am begging you, Please!"
"Aah! I hate it when you cry like a sissy. Well show me what are you writing."
"Huh?? I cannot show you anything now...."
"Then tell me your story........ I will tell you how is it."
"Ok.. wait..... well.. I was thinking to write a horror story."
"A horror story! Humm... go on... tell me what it is..."

"The story beings in a gloomy night... the door opens slowly....'keeeeeeeeeeeeekkkkkk'... the monstrous witch enters... her long poisonous teeth... her sharp nails.... her hair all messed up.... she is very very scary.... and aaaaaah.. yes... who is her victim...  a poor thin man. Yes this is it. This is it!!"
"Whaaaaaat! This does not sound like a horror story to me. This is every married man's story!"
"Oooh is it! I never thought of it that way.. humm... poor chaps! Well... how about romantic stories! Yes romance it is...."
"Humm.. well .. let us see.."
"Romance.. love.... humm.. love happens in college right! College stairs.... before the library.... a beautiful girl is walking with books in her hands... and opposite to her.. a handsome young boy.. is walking straight down towards her.... she is walking.... he is coming .... she is walking.. he is coming... and then suddenly......'DASSSHHH' they hit each other... the books fall down.... the girl bends down to pick up them... the boy helps her.... both of them see each other... eyes meet eyes... breathe meets breathe... and love takes birth... yes.. this is it....THIS IS IT!!!!"
"Hello oo Mr we are not living in the eighties... this is the twenty first century.... love does not happen like this.... today everything is love.. online marriages.... and ...sometimes... even. online... ...honeymoon....."
"yeah  yeah.. saw it in some site..."
"Oh! Humm... how about an action thriller?"
"Just shut up haan! You lack everything. Have you read the book "how to write fiction" by Dick Harry? Or his "1001 fiction plots"?"
"Dick harry? Who is he? Is he a famous writer? Has he written any famous stories?"
"Oh no! He is not into fiction. He just helps people write fiction!"

"Well you see there should be planning, you should have a format on how to write a story.... make a plan... choose the plot.... choose the characters... mix some emotions.... add some masala to the climax... and we have a perfect story!" 
"ooh... doesn't it look like cooking a dish!"
"Well story writing is in fact cooking..... that's why they say...'cooking up a story!'"

"What the hell are you talking to yourself at five in the morning! Didn't you sleep?" My mom suddenly came from the behind.
"Woooh! Mom.. you scared me! I was cooking....err...writing a story!"
"oh! So you got a story? No.... i figured out I don't have the right ingredients!"
"Huh? Humm.. this boy is really crazy!"

p.s: people say when you are confused listen to your inner-conscience. I did it and I got this!