Tuesday, July 30, 2013

The betrayal

Dr. D. K. Bose leaned back on his seat, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was tired! He had been seeing patients non-stop for the past five hours. At forty five years of age he had achieved everything he had wanted when he was sixteen. Or had he, he wondered? The definition of success varies at different ages. What did he want when he was sixteen? He wanted to be a Doctor which he was. He was a specialist pediatrician which was something he had not thought of or known about at that age. He just knew that he wanted name, fame, money, a huge house and a big car. Well, he had that all and more. So why was he so dissatisfied and unhappy? The problem was that all his life he had simply chased material success and had never thought of anything else. And now his heart yearned for more.
He found his thoughts wandering back to things and people he had left behind in this single minded pursuit of materialistic success. His thoughts went to the small rented house he had grown up in with his four siblings. It was small and cramped and he had hated it then. Why did his thoughts go back to that house now? Why did it now appear that his childhood had been happier than his present? Why did he often think of his parents whom he had drifted away from, after his marriage? Why did his brothers and sisters who he had not seen for years appear uninvited in his thoughts? After all he had turned his back to his middle class siblings and their drab lives out of his own choice. Maybe his unhappy marriage was responsible for this dissatisfaction with his present. He thought of his wife who he had married for the sake of money. After if he had not married her who would have given him the capital to build such a big Nursing Home in this prestigious colony of Delhi. He would have been just a small time Doctor in some non-descript city or would have been posted in some Primary Health Center.
            This thought was not his own. This was something his wife reminded him of on almost daily basis during their regular arguments. Maybe if we had kids, things would have been better. But the same fate which had blessed him with money and success had been parsimonious in this aspect. And it was too late anyway. He had developed diabetes, hypertension, put on oodles of weight and lost all his hair. He looked fifty five instead of the age he was. Even if I adopt a child now I will be old or dead before he grows up, he thought. He tried to fill the emptiness in his heart by working even harder, seeing even more patients and putting his heart and soul in his work. Yet he grew more and more disgruntled with life. This is your punishment for leaving the only girl you loved in your life, he told himself as his thoughts drifted back the magical days he had shared with Sarika.
It was back in his days as a Resident Doctor that he had met Sarika. He still remembered their first meeting vividly. He was posted in casualty. Patients were few and far between and after instructing the intern to tackle whatever came his way, DK was immersed in his books preparing for a forthcoming seminar. Suddenly a commotion disturbed his concentration. He looked up to see a gaggle of girls from the nearby university arguing with the intern. On interceding, he found out that one of the girls had a minor medical problem and all her friends had accompanied her to the hospital. The poor intern was unable to cope up with them. He prescribed the requisite medications and sent the girls off after pacifying them. He was particularly struck by the vivacious and talkative friend of the patient but he brushed her thoughts off his mind and went back to his books. He ran into her again in the market after a few days and was offered a dazzling smile of recognition but no more. After a few chance meetings he found himself thinking about the girl increasingly. Discreet enquires revealed that she was an undergraduate student in the University and lived in the hostel. He also found out that her name was Sarika Sinha and that she was from a nearby town. Soon he was losing sleep and unable to concentrate on his studies as he became increasingly infatuated with the girl.
Unable to bear the misery of one –sided love any longer, he screwed his courage up and planned a visit to the girl’s hostel of the university with the forlorn hope of meet her. He sent in the slip with Dr. D .K. Bose written on it and waited with a palpitating heart. He still remembered every moment of their first meeting in the common room. After a few meetings he found out that his feelings were reciprocated by Sarika. They spent hours together talking about everything and sometimes nothing. They discovered their mutual liking for things as diverse as Jagjeet Singh’s ghazals and books by Richard Bach. The next two years passed by magically. It was perhaps the happiest time of his life. He worked hard in the wards, on his books and his thesis. She had her studies and exams which were nowhere as demanding as his and they managed to meet almost every day. He was young enough to have ideals and together they created a magic world of their own.  There were no mobiles and few telephones those days. He owned a second hand scooter which he had managed to buy saving a substantial part of his meager residents’ salary. They went on long drives to the nearby hills on the weekends and were oblivious to the world around them.
He had never been that close to his family. All his life he had hated his lower middle class upbringing. He had loathed his rented house in which there was hardly any personal space. He disliked his small time shopkeeper father, his meek mother and his good for nothing siblings. God has gifted him with a brilliant mind and early on in his life he had realized that the only way to escape from this middle class drudgery was through education. He was always at the top of his class and never had any problems keeping up with his studies even in the cramped confines of his house. It had surprised nobody when he cleared his medical entrance exams with flying colors in the first go. His father grudgingly provided his tuition fees and in Medical College he found the escape he had been looking for since his childhood. And in Sarika he found the intellectually stimulating partner he had longed for, all his life. That and the first flush of youthful love resulted in that period being the most memorable of his life. He clearly remembered all the dreams they had dreamt together, the plans they had made and the future they had envisaged for themselves.
He remembered the fateful day his M.D. result has been declared. He wanted to rush to Girls Hostel of the University to share the glad tidings with Sarika. And then Fate had intervened in form of urgent summons from his Professor. The said Professor was one person he had respected the most in his life and he had responded immediately. The Professor had welcomed him warmly and introduced him to the person sitting with him. They had a proposal for him, he had said. The person was an old friend of his Professor and was a rich businessman from Delhi. He had a daughter of marriageable age and was looking for a groom for her. As she was the only daughter he wanted his future son in law to stay with him in Delhi. If DK was amenable to this alliance he would set up a ‘state of art’ Nursing Home for him at Delhi and use his contacts to help him start his practice. Since his daughter was his only offspring she would eventually inherit all his property anyway.
DK was stunned. All that he had wanted in his life was his for the taking. All he had to do was say yes and he would be rid of the small town middle class existence forever. Then, he remembered Sarika and their mutual dreams. He asked his Professor if he could think about the proposal, excused himself and shut himself up in his Hostel room. For two days he agonised over the decision, going over to the mess only for his meals. He did not contact Sarika or consult his parents. He was desperate not to let go of this almost miraculous offer. Only his love for Sarika held him back. In the end avarice won the day. He went to his Professor and said that he was interested. Then he went home and told his family about the offer and his decision. They were stunned as well. His father as usual did not offer an opinion and told him to do whatever he wanted. His mother made some feeble objections and his siblings were green with envy. As for Sarika had he pushed her thoughts the back of his mind, going to the extent of never meeting her and not visiting his College or the city of Chandigarh again.
Within a month he was married to Rekha Dasgupta and installed in his new home in Green Park, Delhi.  His marriage was a grand affair and he remembered how faded and out of place his family had looked in middle of all that opulence. He had been slightly disappointed by the plain looking Rekha as she was nothing as compared to Sarika but had not shown his disappointment. She looks okay with her makeup and designer jewelry and expensive Saris, he had reasoned with himself. Right from the beginning his marriage had not been a happy one. Rekha was spoilt, stubborn and headstrong.  She was used to getting her way all the time being the only child of super rich parents. To her, he was a mere social appendage or a useful toy in bed when she was in the mood. He always thought of Sarika when he was with her. Maybe, she sensed the presence of the ghost of a third person between them. That is why the marriage was never smooth or happy. Anyhow, he adjusted to all this without complaining. Soon, he was immersed in his practice, patients and hospital.
Time flew and Sarika faded from his memories and consciousness. Only recently, he had started feeling a sense of disquiet, an ill defined feeling of being short-changed and a longing for what might have been. He had been having pangs of guilt about his betrayal of Sarika. He often wondered where she was and what happened to her? Maybe I should have met her and explained everything to her, he thought. She would have understood; she would have killed me; she would have kicked some sense into me and stopped me from selling myself to the first bidder I came across. Today he was missing Sarika terribly. He wished that he could escape from this self created golden cage of his. He wanted life to give him a second chance. Maybe I can still find true happiness, he thought…….
Dr. Bose was brought back to the present by the insistent ringing of the telephone. It was his receptionist.
“Sir, last two patients are left.”
He was irritated, “I can’t see any more patients. I am already late”.
 “Sir, the lady is insisting that it is very important. They are going abroad and she has to get her children immunized.”
Dr. Bose sighed in resignation and said, “Okay! Send them in but no more patients after this.”
As he busied himself in tidying his desk he heard a voice say, “Good evening, Doctor.”
Something familiar about the voice made him look up sharply. He was stunned. It was Sarika! She looked almost the same as she had when he had seen her last. No, she looked even better. The last twenty years had been kind to her. Her complexion was the same milk and honey he dreamed about every night; the eyes sparkled with the same mixture of mischief and amusement; and she was dressed smartly in Jeans and a figure hugging top, a far cry from her salwar kameez days. She was accompanied by a smartly dressed European. Two children, a boy and a girl were with them.
DK started stuttering, “Sa...Sa...Sarika.” He blurted out. She looked at him quizzically and said, ´Do we know each other, Doc?”
“I am Dinesh. You have not recognized me, Sarika.”
It was now Sarika’s turn to look stunned. “Oh Dinesh! What have you done to yourself? I just would not have known it is you. Dinesh ……….…. Dr. D. K. Bose. I just did not make the association. And you have changed dramatically. For the worse, I’m afraid.”
Without missing a beat she turned to the man at her side and said, “This is my husband, Robert. We met in Punjab University when I was teaching in the Dep’t. Of English after finishing my Ph.D. Robert is from Harvard and was in Chandigarh on a research project for the past four years. Robert, this is Dinesh, a friend of mine from college days. He is apparently a big shot Doctor now. We were close at one time but kind of lost touch with each other.”

 Later, she explained that Robert was going back to Harvard and she was going with him. She had been offered a Post Doctoral Fellowship in Yale and she planned to settle down in U.S.A with her family. They had to catch a flight the next day and needed to get their twins immunized urgently before leaving. It was by sheer coincidence that they had landed in his Hospital. Not once did during the entire interaction did she display any awkwardness or mention anything about his betrayal. It was DK who was tongue tied and could not speak much. He was simply overwhelmed by the cool, confident and sophisticated Sarika. Of all the times he had thought about Sarika in the last few years, this was one scenario he had not even imagined. And then with a wave from Sarika and a cool handshake from Robert they were gone. Dr. D. K. Bose, big shot Doctor, and a successful man in his own eyes till a few minutes ago, was left contemplating the quirks of fate and his own betrayal.

Monday, July 22, 2013

The Guardian Angels by Rohit Gore- Book Review



The blurb says:
The Guardian Angels is the epic and tumultuous story of two star-crossed lovers who weren’t just soul-mates but were also each other’s protectors.

The fates of Adi Mehta and Radha Deodhar are deeply entwined when within days of their first rendezvous they save each other’s lives.

Despite their vast sociopolitical differences, they are drawn to an uncertain future fraught with contrasting ambitions, personas and ideologies.

. . . he is the son of a billionaire, she is the daughter of a socialist.

. . . he is quiet and unassuming, she is a firebrand and spirited.

However, the unexplained phenomena ties them forever – whenever they are in peril, they are each other’s only saviors.

Over the following two decades Adi and Radha live through hope and despair, joy and sadness, and try to decipher their relationship. As the truth of their bond is revealed, they must confront the true nature of love, and ultimately, their destinies.

Rohit Gore was kind enough to send me the book for review and I had a lot of expectations from the book. I am happy to report that they were fulfilled. This is a book with a heart. You get immersed in the story and share the joys, anxieties and the pain of the protagonists as you read on. Rohit Gore writes with the ease of a veteran and succeeds in holding your attention throughout the lengthy tale of two completely dissimilar persons tied through bonds of friendship, empathy, love and twists of destiny that lead to both repeatedly helping and protecting each other. The story begins when they meet as young kids and follows their lives as they grow up passing through tumultuous times. This tale of star-crossed lovers is well conceived, well narrated and written with amazing verve and spirit. The language is crisp and pithy and many lines are worth quoting.
Though a fan of Indian writing in English, I often chaff at the superficiality of many books I come across. The Guardian Angels shows surprising depth and maturity and tends to stay in your mind long after finishing the book.  
As for the shortcomings, I could not find too many. For one, I did not like the cover. The last Grapevine book I read, Shades of Love had a far more attractive cover. (Incidentally, both I and Rohit Gore contributed a story each to that book) Secondly, a little more editing could have made the book crisper. (It tends to wander a bit occasionally)
Overall, The Guardian Angels is a wonderful tale which will keep you involved, entertained and leave you with a nice warm feeling in your heart. I would rate it at 3.5/5 and recommend  it as worth reading.

For online link to order the book click here

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

The city never sleeps


As the daylight faded in the cold and foggy December evening, most of the working girls hurried home. Some had families to go back to while others went back to their respective working women hostels or PG accommodations.However, for the girl with sad eyes, excessive make-up and cheap perfume, the day was just beginning! She sat in her dingy room at Sonagachi, the infamous red light area of Kolkata and shuddered at the prospect of the long night stretching endlessly ahead of her. She had woken up with a headache that evening. She hated this life, the miserable existence which compelled her to walk the streets every night and peddle her body. Yes, the earnings were more than she could have ever hoped to earn with her impoverished background and minimal education. But the cost was enormous as well. Something in her had died a long time back. And that was hope, the will to live and enjoy life. A dark fear raised its hood in her heart, like the cobras she had seen in her childhood.
 She remembered the time when her father would take her and her brother to the annual fair near their village. She would peep at the snake charmers and their deadly wares from behind the reassuring bulk of her father, clutching her brother’s hand tightly all the time. She felt a pang when she remembered the cholera epidemic which had wiped away her entire family in one go, leaving her forlorn and vulnerable. Life had become a series of travails which had culminated in this lonely existence in her squalid room at Sonagachi.
 She wondered why she was feeling so apprehensive, so defenseless and so vulnerable that day. Then she
remembered. The ice-pick murderer! There was a psychopath out there in the city who had killed three persons over the last one month. No one knew who he was and why was he killing people? But it was a fact that a killer was lose in the streets of Kolkata and the police had no clue about his identity. The newspapers and the local TV channels were screaming themselves hoarse, all kinds of rumors were floating around in the city and the ice-pick killer had acquired a larger than life image. She had a bad feeling about tonight, a kind of hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was afraid to go out and walk the streets. The rational part of her mind scoffed at her vague undefined fears. She had been working the streets for over five years and had seen it all. From policemen to pimps, from drunkards to drug-addicts, from petty criminals to educated professionals; she had dealt with all and slept with most.
What did she have to fear?
 “Come on girl, move. You have a living to make.” She told herself and forced herself to stir. She looked at herself. She was dressed in a red short top and jeans, her working clothes. She picked up her large red handbag, an essential part of her ensemble and moved out of her room. Most of the women who lived in Sonagachi plied their trade within the area but she found the area with its garish multi-storied brothels too suffocating. She preferred to move out of the confines of the infamous locality to walk the streets in the up-market areas of the city. Her beat extended from Esplanade to Sealdah railway station. Occasionally, she would move further down south to Park Street or the secluded Maidan near it. She has a good working relation with a large number of seedy hotels where she would take her clients. She did not like to venture beyond this known universe of hers and rarely took up offers where clients would insist on taking her to their place.
 It was already dark by the time she ventured out of her room. The lights were twinkling and beckoning in the various by-lanes of Sonagachi. The streets were comparatively empty with only a few pimps, prostitutes and people walking around. The action would pick up later and go on till the wee hours of the morning. She looked at the unfolding vista in distaste. She particularly hated the sight of overtly made up sari clad women looking out of barred windows and balconies, a sad commentary on their caged existence.   She made her way to the small restaurant next door for her dinner.
 “Always eat before venturing out in the streets. You never know what the night has in store for you and when do you get your next meal.” A veteran whore had given her the counsel years back and over time she had come to realize the value of the advice.
 “What should I get you, didimoni?” The thirteen year old waiter was a favorite of hers and nearest to a kin in her lonely existence.
“Get me a Muglai paratha and a Pepsi.” She was still feeling uneasy and decided to give herself a treat in the forlorn hope that it would make her feel better. A particularly repulsive man sidled up to her and said. “I see that you are about to move. I don’t know why a beautiful girl like you has to work so hard. Give me a chance. I will line up clients at your door. You won’t have to move a bit and I will also get something to feed my family with.” She was used to the wheedling of the pimps and ignored him completely, munching her meal in silence. The rebuffed man walked away, murmuring expletives under his breath. “Bloody whore. She thinks that she is a princess or something!” Years in the environment had given her a thick skin and she ignored him and his jibes.
 She finished her meal and retouched her lipstick using a small mirror she fished out of the red bag. She walked to Mahatma Gandhi metro station and caught the tube railway to Esplanade. She checked the dainty little wrist watch she was wearing as she walked out of the station. There was a hint of chill in the air and she shivered in her light top.
 “I should have worn a sweater!” She thought as she crossed the busy road at the zebra crossing. She decided to hang around for a little while near the traffic lights and wait for someone to approach her. “A bit like casting a line and waiting for a fish to bite!” She thought to herself.
Her mind went back to her child-hood days when she and he brother would fish at the village pond with makeshift fishing rods. Sometimes, they would return home empty handed while at times a two hour stint would result in few palm-size fish which they would happily carry back home for their mother to cook. 
 But today the fish did not seem to be biting. The busy metropolis buzzed with activity. Cars and bikes zipped across the road at breakneck speeds. The pedestrians wove their way amidst the constant traffic with impunity and the area throbbed and pulsed with life. She got a lot of curious stares and an occasional wolf-whistle but the only one to approach her and give her a smile was the familiar beat constable.

She got tired of waiting and decided to move to a less crowded locality. She started walking toward Sealdah station. The character of the surroundings changed and became a bit seedier as she approached the flyover. A man who was riding past on a bike slowed down and gave her an interested stare. He then stopped, turned around and rode towards her. She smiled as he approached her. “The fish has taken the bait”, she thought. The man gave her a long look of appraisal and decided that she was available. “How much?” He asked. “One thousand for me and four hundred for hotel room. Or would you prefer to take me home?” “No, no! Hotel is okay.” The man was immediately defensive and she smiled inwards and thought, “He surely does not want to take me home to his wife."



Read the rest of the story in Shades of Sin, an anthology of Short stories about presence of evil in human heart published by APK Publishers, Pune.

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Sunday, April 14, 2013

INSURANCE IMBROGLIO



        One should love all of God’s creatures, especially thy neighbor’s wife. And I do. No, I do not mean my neighbour’s wife but all of God’s creatures. Why, I even love the Snake Eyed Skink. In case you don’t know what is it, allow me to tell you that it is a slimy kind of a lizard which does not have eyelids. If you do not believe me see the photograph I posted on my Facebook Wall. (You will be astounded by the number of likes and comments the little chap attracted) Believe it or not, I even love the dung eating Beetle. And there was this chap who made the country fall in love with a Housefly. (See the movie Makkhi to get the drift). But then God has made some creatures who one just can’t love. The prime examples are mosquitoes and insurance agents. Talking of insurance agents, I wonder if there is lower being in the totem pole of existence. And if the insurance agent is a five foot nothing runt with an oily smile and high pitched voice he takes the cake, pastry and the entire Bakery. One such snake in human form infested my neighbourhood. I always gave him a wide berth but one fateful day the guy managed to corner me. He gave me a non-stop spiel on how I did not love my family enough to make some provision for them once I was over the great beyond. I told him that he was wrong and I was insured for a princely sum. “Two lakhs.” The little runt curled his lips in contempt. “It is too less. You are a high net worth individual. You should be insured for at least one crore.”   “One crore insurance, are you crazy.” I shouted. “People are murdered for a fraction of that amount. Why tempt fate, or in this case, my immediate family. And what gives you the impression that I am worth anything? Nobody even buys my books!” But the guy was persistent. He went to work on me with a bulldog like tenacity and eventually wore down my resistance. He left my office with a huge grin, a fat cheque and left me clutching an appointment slip for my medical examination the following Monday.
          The first bomb came on Sunday. A sweet feminine voice called me on my cell. “Sir! This is Priya from City Hospital. This is a reminder call for your medical examination tomorrow morning. Please reach at 10.30 sharp. And yes, come fasting.”  “Wait a minute,” I stammered, “I need my breakfast at 7.30. I can’t wait till 10.30.I’ll waste away by 10.30.” ” “Sorry sir, this is mandatory! We have to take your fasting blood and urine samples.”  “ Then call me to the Hospital at 7.00 AM.” I wheedled. A slivery laugh tinkled down the airwaves. “Sir, even the janitors don’t come in that early. It is you who has to get insured. And remember, this comprehensive medical checkup will be free for you as the insurance company is paying for it.” Free! That clinched it.  Once I consented, she added a few other unmentionable things which I am not going to write about. I cursed the runt while I made a mental note of her instructions. “And Sir, please remember to shave your chest before coming.”  “Shave my chest, what the heck! I am not appearing for Miss Universe or something like that. I will not do it.” I screamed. “Sorry sir! This is again mandatory. You have to undergo a Treadmill test and electrodes don’t stick on hairy chest.”
          I was grumbling about all that when my bitter half intervened. “Tell me something. How does that girl know that you have a hairy chest? Been playing around, have you? I will not cook for you from today.” “Come on sweetheart, you know I have eyes only for you.” I stammered but the lady did not relent. I groveled and genuflected some more, but to no avail. Desperate, I played my last card. “Darling, I am getting this insurance thing only for your benefit.” This pacified her some and I got my dinner.

            Monday morning dawned bright and clear. The anxiety of the impending medical examination was gnawing away at my innards like a persistent rodent. What if I have an undetected medical condition…What if I have diabetes, or brain tumor, or even AIDS? “Come on”, I chided myself as I rode my scooter down to City Hospital.
            Anyway, I entered the hospital feeling a bit like a schoolboy appearing for his exams. Ah, at least I‘ll get to meet Priya with the silvery laugh, I consoled myself. Yes, I did get to meet her and contrary to my mental image of her, she looked more like a female bouncer in one of Bangkok’s notorious strip bars. You may ask me how do I know what female bouncer in Bangkok’s notorious strip bars look like? But did I promise to answer? So you may keep guessing! She pounced on me with a swiftness which would put a Cheetah to shame and handed me over to a ward-boy.  “Take case number 113 to the Doctor.” She instructed him with what I construed to be a wicked gleam in her eyes. So I was just a case, I thought. I was taken in and put through the grind. I will not elaborate on the indignities the Doctor unleashed on me. Sufficient to say that I was poked and prodded, every crevice in my body was looked into and every protuberance felt up. My chest was auscultated, I was made to take off my shirt (and my vest) , lot if wires were taped on to me and made to run on a treadmill to the point of exhaustion. Then they drew some blood and collected my urine and my poo. Thankfully, they did not demand a sperm sample. Anyway, an hour later, I was allowed to go home, leaving behind the tattered pieces of my dignity.

          A week later, I received this letter from the insurance firm.
 Sir,
Congratulations! We are happy to inform you that your Medical reports are perfectly normal.
However, we are sorry to inform you that you do not qualify for One crore insurance cover as you are not a High net worth individual. Our agent made a mistake in the calculation. We apologize for any inconvenience it may have caused you.
 May we offer you a rupee two lakh policy instead?
Regards
XYZ

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Shades of Sin is now available





"Shades of Sin" is now available on APK website. Here is the link:


We have priced the book at Rs.195/- but it is available for Rs.150/- on the website.

If this is the only book that buyers buy, then they will have to pay Rs.30/- for shipping, since they do that if the order value is less than Rs.200/-. (For flipkart and other online book stores, the threshold is Rs.500/-.) That brings the price of 1 copy of Shades of Sin to Rs.180/-.

So, in order to sweeten the deal for buyers, APK has created 2 combo packs:
Combo 1: Shades of Sin + Cocktail (MRP Rs.150/-, their bestselling short story collection)


Combo2: Shades of Sin + Stories from the Heart of a Dreamer (MRP Rs.175/-, short story collection by Armaan Farid - a 21-year-old Hyderabad based writer who started writing the book when he was only 18 years old - which was appreciated by all and did very well)



APK has priced both the combos at Rs.250/-. So for an additional Rs.70/-, buyers will get another book. ( No courier charge as well)

Note: APK supplies books abroad as well. The price remains the same but there is an additional Postage charge ( as per actual charges) So all my friends living abroad may order it.


For those who do not believe in / are uncomfortable with online transactions, there is a simple solution. Please send a Multi-city cheque/ Demand Draft of the required amount made to 'APK Publishers' payable at Pune, at the following address along-with your order.

APK Publishers
5/301, Ved Vihar, Chandni Chowk
Paud Road, Pune-411038

For Die-hard Flipkart fans, here is the flipkart link

In case you are a kindle fan and prefer eBooks 

click here for the Amazon link

Please  forward this post to your family/friends/acquaintances. Once about a million copies have sold, I can sit on my backside and not work for the rest of my life  :-))