An English Crush

(Submitted for Blogadda's "My first Crush !" contest )

Every time she pulled my ear, I fell in love with her, not because getting my ears pulled turns me on or anything, but because when she pulled my ear she would bring her lips so close to my cheek that I could smell the perfume on her neck and I believed that one day she would pull my ear and give me a peck on my cheek. I was 13 years old then, in the seventh standard, and no, I wasn’t getting my ears pulled by the female counterparts in my class but by my English teacher. Yes I know thirteen year old boys, studying in catholic schools, having a crush on their English teacher is a cliché but then that was how my childhood was, a cliché.

So there I was sitting on the last bench everyday, with my chin in my hands, looking at her face, dreamy eyes. From the moment she entered the class I would never lose sight of her slender body, dressed elegantly in a salwar kameez. I don’t know whether it was my imagination or the truth but every time our eyes met she would push a curl behind her ear.
Her brown eyes floated from face to face as she moved around the class reading us prose and poems. And when she passed me the whiff of her perfume and sometimes her duppatta grazing my cheek would make me sigh,”Oh! Teacher Sangeeta”.

I worked really hard in English, doing my homework, preparing the lessons diligently for the next class. Whenever she asked a question in the class I would enthusiastically raise my hand and when she looked at me and said “yes, Vivek what’s the answer”, I would go blank. This would make her really angry and she would pull my ear, which as I have already said I enjoyed.
It was Anu, my confidante in the seventh grade, who told me that women liked bold men. “When you mumble in front of teacher Sangeeta, it doesn’t look very manly”, she told me. I looked at her with my mouth wide open wondering how she knew so much about men. But then I realized she was a woman herself, so I thought she must be right.

I always hated it when teacher Sangeeta gave one of her brilliant smiles to anyone except me, and I always thought she did it purposefully to make me jealous. There was one person whom I hated the most and that was our physical trainer Mr. James. He was a tall good looking guy and whenever teacher Sangeeta would see him she would stop and talk to him. They both talked in whispers and she laughed at his secret jokes sometimes touching him on the shoulders or hands and that would make me wreath in envy. James in turn hated me too because I was never good at any sports. But I think he secretly knew about my love for teacher Sangeeta and was jealous of the fact that I might someday steal her from him.

Anu like everything else knew about the hatred I had for James. During recess we would both sit under the tree at the edge of the cricket field behind our school building and try to hatch plans to get James out of the way.

Anu once even suggested asking her cousin brother to arrange for some goons who would hide behind some wall near James’ house and beat the f*beep* out of him when he was walking alone in the evening.

“This would keep him in the hospital for a good whole month during which you would be free to woo teacher Sangeeta”, she said without blinking. And while she was suggesting this, all I could do was, as always look at her with my mouth wide open.

We (read I) decided to stay away from any such act of violence.

It was teacher Sangeeta’s birthday. Anu told me that I should give her a birthday card and a bunch of roses too. But I had only enough money to buy a birthday card, so Anu chipped in and I also bought a bunch of roses. Anu helped me write my feelings beautifully on the card and I told her that I would give it to teacher Sangeeta in the school. But Anu as always suggested otherwise.

“Dress up and go to her place in the evening, there you shall personally give her the flowers and profess your love for her”, she said. “But wouldn’t that be a bit bold. What if she didn’t like it? Wouldn’t she be angry at me?” I asked. “Don’t be silly, what did I tell you about women, they like bold men. She will melt when she will read those line and sees such beautiful flowers”, Anu convinced me.

So in the evening I dressed up, picked up my bicycle and pedaled to her house. As I reached near her house I saw James opening the gate of her garden and entering. He was dressed in a black suit and was accompanied by an old lady who must have been his mother. I stopped a few yards away from her house and waited for James to leave. After a few minutes a few more guests arrived. I knew teacher Sangeeta had given a birthday party. I saw Sumit come along with his parents. Sumit was my classmate and teacher Sangeeta’s nephew. He waved at me when he saw me standing at the corner of the lane. As his parents went inside he waited for me. I cycled up to him.

“Hey, did teacher Sangeeta invite you for the party too”, he asked. “Yes”, I mumbled, embarrassed. “You know it’s a surprise party. Nobody knows but my mother told me that it’s her birthday party as well as her engagement ceremony.” he said. I looked at him as if something had pierced through my heart and shattered all my dreams.

“Won’t you come inside” he asked again. I didn’t say anything. I turned around and cycled back to my home, the flowers and the card still in my hand. I found Anu sitting in the playground out side my house. I threw my bicycle went up to her, sat beside her and threw the flowers and the card on the ground. She put her hands around my shoulders and asked what had happened. I told her everything.

She sat with her hands around my shoulders as I hid my face in my knees. “Why do you worry, I am here for you”, she said caressing my hair. I looked up in to her eyes. She had tears in them. I bent down picked up the flowers and gave them to her. “These are for you, for being my best friend”, I said. She took the flowers in her hand, hugged me and then gave a kiss on my cheek. And as always I kept looking at her with my mouth wide open.

Killing The Pain

She smiled as a stream of blood flowed past her. It was over now and she gave a sigh of relief.

Memories of her 12th birthday streaked through her mind. She remembered it was her school’s founder’s day celebration. She had taken part in the ballet dance, and was proudly flaunting her white short skirt. She knew she looked the prettiest among all the dancers even her teachers couldn’t stop praising her beauty.

After the function was over, her uncle picked her up from school and took her to his home. He was a lawyer and had a huge farmhouse at the outskirts of the town that was the venue for her birthday party. She had always adored him for what he was. She had always admired him for his good looks and because he had always treated her like a princess.

When she reached there, the farmhouse was deserted her aunt and other family members were to reach there by late afternoon. She got down from the car and ran towards the swimming pool her favourite place in the house. She took off her ballet shoes and sat down at the edge of the pool putting her legs in the cold water. A few moments later her uncle called her inside the house but she refused to go. She was enjoying the feel of cold water and splashing it with her feet. A few minutes later her uncle came out and asked her to come inside the house. In the mood of fun she pulled him in the pool too and started splashing water on him.

Their clothes were wet. He looked at her from head to waist. Her wet hair sticking to her neck, her wet white dress sticking to her chest gave him a mad rush of blood. He gave her a weird smile. She had never seen him like this before. Suddenly he grabbed her with one hand and started pulling her into the house. Initially she thought her uncle was having fun and she tried to free herself but his grip was very strong and it made her feel uncomfortable. She requested him to leave her but he took her inside the bedroom.

She thought her uncle was angry on her of what she did to him in the pool. She begged for forgiveness fearing that he might hit her and pleaded him to let her go. Instead he threw her on bed and locked the door from inside. She closed her eyes afraid anticipating a blow from him anytime.

However, he didn’t hit her, instead he put something soft in her hand, she opened her eyes and the sight made her scream. Her uncle was standing half naked in front of her. She started screaming and crying. He slapped her face, ripped her off her clothes and pushed himself inside her.

The pain, the burning sensation, the blood were all unbearable. She hated him for causing her so much pain. The man she had adored and respected once, had become repugnant and filthy now.
He threatened her that if she complained about him, she would be dead. With time the physical pain was gone but the emotional pain and torture scarred her life permanently. Whenever he found her alone he would force himself on her and all she could do was unsuccessfully try to protect herself. She shuddered every time she saw him, breaking into sweats. But with time it became a dull pain which was there constantly at the back of her head.

She had lived the pain every single day for the last ten years until today when he forced her to serve his client. She had refused. This made him angry.

He had slapped her and pulled off her duppata, pushing her towards the man sitting in the corner of the room. She spread her hands to avoid falling down and her hands got hold of the spear which was until now an antique showpiece adorning the beauty of the room. The view had scared the client and he had ran off from the room while her uncle didn’t realise that his sin of last ten years was about to end

She sat in front of him with her hands drenched in blood, looking at him die. This was the moment she had always dreamed of since she was twelve. It took her ten long years to gather the courage, for a decade he had haunted her day and night, every morning she would get up with the fear of facing him and now she had ended that fear. He would no longer haunt her.

The Nation’s Enemy Number One.

Disclaimer: The names of characters and situations occurring in all of the stories in this blog are fictional and any resemblance to any person dead or alive is purely coincidental. The stories in this blog are only for leisure reading and the author at any point does not mean to make fun of or degrade, any nationality, caste, religion or sex in the story. If you think so, it is purely unintentional and the author apologizes for the same.

The Nation’s Enemy Number One.

Mumbai, Khulgayipoll News Desk, May 3, 2010

It is a proud day for the country today. The courts of justice have finally delivered their verdict. Finally truth has won, injustice and lies have been vanquished. It is being hailed as the victory of the people of India. The number one enemy of the nation Khatmal Pasab has been found guilty for the worst ever terrorist attacks which happened in the economic capital, Mumbai, two years ago and the court has sentenced him to death.

The government has been very angry about the attacks since it had once again proved that the country’s Intelligence system, had no intelligence at all. Hence the government wanted that the perpetrators be sent to the gallows as soon as possible. And now they have made sure that justice has been done. The court today passed the verdict declaring that the number one enemy of India Khatmal Pasab should be hanged till death.

On this great day our correspondents caught up with some of nation’s well wishers to get their priceless comments.

Our correspondent Ragda Patties met Bagh Fakade, at his residence, he refused to speak in Hindi or English but this is what he said and we translate:

“It is a great day for the common man of Mumbai (an assistant whispered “Sir Maharashtra”) and Maharashtra that this devil has been brought to justice. And on this auspicious day we declare that we will start a new revolution. We will ask all the television channels broadcasting on each and every television set in Mumbai (assistant from behind again “Sir and Maharashtra”) and Maharashtra should have their logos and names displayed in Marathi only. That is our tribute to the victory of the common man of Maharashtra (assistant from behind again “Sir Maharashtra”, Fakade turns around and gives him a ‘tichyaaila’ type look). I will request everyone to start the revolution from today itself. Jai Shivaji, Jai Maharashtra.”

Our correspondent Pehle Aap Mishra caught up with Behenji Kalawati out side a statue shop in Lucknow, and this is what she said:

“Pasab is a black mark on this nation. He is the enemy number one of this country and I am happy that the court has delivered the justice. It is a big day for all the Dalits and other backward casts of India. To celebrate this victory of the neglected lower casts of the country not only are we declaring it as a public holiday in our state but I have also ordered 1000 life size bronze statues of myself to be made and placed all over, to make our beloved state more beautiful .”

Our correspondent Sattu Jha from Patna met Baaloo ji who was shopping for some Rabri (a sweet meat made of milk and sugar) with his wife Dhibri Devi and this is their reaction:

“I have heard the news and I think this is a very good verdict in favor of the minority community. I think that the government should have CBI investigate the whole Pasab case again, instead of wasting its time in trying to find out which brand of cattle feed I use for my buffaloes. I am going to ask the government to start the family planning program again to celebrate this verdict.”

Our correspondents spoke to the minister of Twitter affairs Mr Haanchee Suroor but he said, “You will have to follow me on Twitter to read my comments regarding the verdict.” Our correspondent is following him on Twitter now.

Our Mumbai correspondent Ragda Patties also caught up with the Bollywood super star Sukh Dukh Kaand for his reactions:

“I am very happy today that now even the Indian court agrees with me, that every terrorist is not a Kaand. If Pasab is willing to change his ways I am ready to teach him acting so that he may act in one of my movies and fulfill the mission that he came for or if he wants I can ask my Dadaji to teach him cricket so that he may join my cricket team. Because you know I am the star, I am the best and my movies are the best… ” Our correspondent had to snatch the microphone away from him.

Our correspondent Koyla Gundi found the missing ex-chief minister Gadhoo Roda coming out of a seven star spa in Mauritius and asked him what he thought about the verdict.

“Dekhiye hum toh gareeb kisaan hain. Humare babuji koyla khadaan mein kaam karte thein. Humare paas toh chawal khareedne ke bhi paise nahi hain. Toh Newspaper khareed kar yeh sab cheez kaha se padhenge. Humein toh Pasab ka ek hi matlab pata tha (raises the pinky on his right hand). Humein jhoothe aaropon mein fasaya gaya hai.” (I am a poor farmer. My father used to work in coal fields. We don’t even have the money to buy rice then how do you think we will buy newspaper and read about these things. The only meaning of Pasab we know is (raises the pinky on his right hand). I am being falsely framed.)

Our correspondent Gend Ball Gilli asked the tycoon who has changed the face of Indian cricket Mr. KhitKhit Godi, but he was in a hurry because his chartered plane was waiting and we could only catch him saying:

“I am still the chairman of…”

These are some of the reactions that our correspondents have collected from the well wishers of our country. We have also received reactions from Gayapapita, Churnanidhi, Moyaamji, Marmar Jhing, Garda Pahar and hundreds of others from all walks of life who have dedicated their lives in the upliftment of the poor of the nation. They have all hailed the verdict of hanging the number one enemy of our country.

I found a way.

The iron tracks rattled by as I tried to follow them with eyes, which were looking at the ever changing future, I felt a soft touch on my hands. I turned and saw a girl, with rough hair dirty cheeks and equally dirty frock raising her small hands to her lips looking sadly at me. I turned my head and saw a girl who looked hardly fifteen wearing a blue saree standing in the aisle looking uninterestedly at me with her grey eyes, I knew the only thing of interest to her was the coin in my pocket. The pug nose and the wheat colored skin that both the little girl and the girl in the aisle had told me the whole story. I ignored both of them and looked outside the window. Dejected they moved on to other prospects.

I took another look at both of them and I knew if they didn’t have enough by the end of the day, the girl would have to find a client at night, she might end up getting pregnant again. As for the little girl, she would inherit her mother’s occupation.

Giving them a two or a five rupee coin would not have been a big deal for me. But every time I gave money to someone who asked for it I felt as if I was encouraging something wrong for easy money. But if I didn’t give them money the girls will end up hooking up with a drunkard. I can’t get everyone of them work, I am looking for a job myself. I thought as stations passed me by and I arrived at my destination.

I checked my mobile it was nine, the office goers all seemed to be walking in the same direction. I followed the throng. Having skipped my breakfast for the early appointment I felt hungry. I saw a bunch of women selling ‘Poha’ on the roadside from stainless steel cans kept at the back of a Maruti Omni van. I had my fill. Further down the lane I noticed another similar van, but this time the sellers were boys who must have been studying in 10+2.

I remembered a couple of years’ back we had a client in Santacruz who belonged to a particular minority group. I had become friends with his eldest son. One day sitting at his office I had asked him “I notice that all the boys working in your office are from your community, why don’t you have employees from other communities as well?”

His father who was reading a newspaper raised his head and replied “People from your community hardly give employment to people from our community, as a result these kids are easily misled by people who take advantage of them. I have nothing against other communities but I decided that I will employ people only from my own community thereby giving them a livelihood and an opportunity to improve their life. These kids that you see at my office all go to evening colleges, this way they stay away from evil.”

Seeing the kids serve Poha, Idli, Vada Pav or for that matter the guy selling second hand books on the road side reminded me of the man’s words. Create employment everything else will fall into place.

Meeting over, on my way back, at the station I saw a man selling Rubik’s Cube. I had wanted to buy one for a long time now. I had seen one at a supermarket but didn’t buy it because I thought that it was obscenely overpriced. I picked the cube and asked the price. He didn’t respond didn’t even raise his head to look at me. “Bees rupiya”, I heard a little girl call out to me from the other side. It was then that I realized that the man sitting there was blind. I immediately took out two ten rupee notes and placed it on his hand. He felt them with his fingers and put them in his shirt pocket.

The guilt of not giving the little girl any money was gone now. I was happy that I had my breakfast at one of those makeshift kiosks by the road which helped those women in making them self sufficient and by buying the Rubik’s Cube from the blind man and not at some mall and giving my hard earned money to some MNC.

I thought if we continued to buy our vegetables and groceries from the sellers in our locality instead of driving down to malls and filling the pockets of these corporate snobs we will be doing our country a big service. I agree that we will have to shell out a few bucks more but you won’t have to spend your time in traffic on a Sunday, all these can be delivered at your doorsteps. The matter of fact is that the Indian middle class today has such a purchasing power is only because we have always been so enterprising.

Until and unless the money trickles down to the very bottom of our society we won’t be able to create wealth. And people become self sufficient and have access to money they will start thinking of better education for their kids, better sanitation, health and hygiene for their family. All this in turn will help us in the betterment of society.

Who knows may be we would even be able to put an end to girls being forced into the oldest profession in the world, after all its true the treasure lies at the bottom of the pyramid.

All Fall Down.

All Fall Down.

There has been a blast!

Fire engines scream, ambulances sing, the souls are all bloodied.

Lives have been lost!

Men and women, young and old, everybody, everywhere scurried.

That’s not the name of my city!

The leader cries, dreams smashed, the swords have been drawn.

Beat that man, what a pity!

Men and women, young and old, everybody, everywhere, nothing but mere pawns.

That’s the man, over there!

The hands grope, the eyes search, the fingers they all point.

We’re the friends, they’ve massacred!

Men and women, young and old, everybody, everywhere, pained and are joined.

Oh, my daughter why do you cry!

Tears fall, the blood is diluted, smile turns into a frown.

Let’s stand again, let us all try!

Men and women, young and old, everybody, everywhere, all fall down.