Girl's College

                     'There comes the devil', Vani Dave whispered into Priya's ears. The Devil was their princi Mrs. Doodha, who was not actually one but who was extremely strict to the extent she knew who visited the college canteen and how often and sometimes the girls would think she even knew what they ate.  She was always properly attired with her 'Saree pallu' pinned at the right place with matching sandals and when she marched in the college corridors everyone knew it was 'her' by the sound her footwear made.  

                                 But she was a hit and popular by all means as she was the 'perfect' lecturer when it came to teach Zoology. I would just sit mesmerized when she would enter the class without any book, go to the blackboard and draw the specimen which she had to teach, with minute details and apt labelling. Oh ! the labelling lines were straight, drawn without the scales. And then she would start describing the animal from top to bottom and each and every part of the member of Animal kingdom would strike alive in my mind. Once I tried to trace the notes she gave by going through 4 to 5 books but found some part of what she taught was missing in each of the books and from then on I believed her notes like a holy book. 

                      From a co-ed school to an 'All girl's college' was a little awkward initially  plus the fact that there would be no 'Mars inhabitants'. It also meant complete freedom from prying, scaling, measuring eyes and you could sit in the class in whatever fashion you wanted to, without bothering to correct the 'dupatta' or pull down the short tops or the other dozens of things one did because of the presence of the opposite sex like deciding how to sit, where to look, how to keep the hands....... My my ! classrooms are one helluva good example if one needed a session on body language. Animal instinct I guess. Nothing different from the preening behaviour of the birds or the other vertebrates. So to cut it short, one was  free from the thought of impressing or attracting the other species. It was a liberating thought which meant I could be myself without those silly botherations. So there I was on the first bench squeezed between girls whom I didn't know at all. My name on the college admission list was 2nd after Monica, the cute fair girl with big specs. Enter the princi and amidst the pin drop silence that followed, pat landed a small chalk piece in front of me. 'You, yes, what's your biological name?' I had been briefed up about her before this class and I mumbled, 'Naina' then suddenly corrected and said 'Homo sapiens'. Ah ! what a relief and I was almost jubilant about giving the apt answer though a bit late. Smile....a big smile on her face and I thought I would occupy her memory for the next two years that I was in this college. But I would never answer in her class whenever she asked questions even after a splendid explanation. She would expect a lot from me and wanted me to answer but somehow I would doubt my answers whether they would match her expectations of a perfect answer. One of the drawbacks of education system where in pursuit of perfection, one never learns to fail, to make mistakes, to try, out of plain fear. The outside world classroom needs just that. Anyways Monica was the apple of her eye because she would always answer even though her English wasn't good. And I would think, Doctor's daughter so all rightly wired up to mouth the correct words.  

                  The Zoology lab-First Dissection practical and we were all given trays to have our frogs to cut upon. We bundled in two groups hovering over one teacher Mrs. Sudha who showed how to take out the poor amphibian's brain. Most of us were mouthing 'yes mam, right mam, ok mam' including me wondering at the back of our minds what the hell she was explaining and understood nothing of what she said. 'So out there you go and start dissecting'. Oops ! how enticing the thought of going back home looked, mom's harsh words were better than this. 'Girls before you start this why not appear for a practical test' boomed the Princi's voice. And we all suddenly turned pally, looking haplessly at each other, and getting tons of 'classmate sympathy'. How lovely this feeling was, sort of united us into one lot, never mind the bitching after the class was over. There they were 16 specimens (dead animals like fish, worms, insects, mammals, reptiles) stuffed in glasswares having formalin that kept their lifeless bodies looking fresh. We had to draw, label and identify them. What a gruesome task and very painful at that ! Chopping vegetables back home when mom shouted looked definitely adorable. Anyways we handed over our papers. 'Who is roll no 1? Roared the Lion. Where have you drawn the mouth of this worm? In the middle ? Near the stomach? How would you look if you had mouth above your stomach and anus right below the stomach? You guys think you can place the body parts anywhere you liked ? And what if some of you will go to Medical college? Look for the mouth near the stomach?' We felt like shaking ourselves to endless laughter thinking about the two most important openings in the body above/below stomach, but were tight lipped and I had this sinking feeling whether I had placed the anus correctly. There she held my paper...'Hmm ! one of the toppers, let me see what has she done with this animal's anatomy, (and my heart started galloping) Well... Good ! Naina keep it up !' God ! all of a sudden I felt like Einstein, the most intelligent being in BMM college, 20 pairs of eyes looking at me with what I didn't bother. 'Drawing is one of the basics in zoology....on she went'. 

                          Then started the dissection. Everyone finished except me. What I took out turned out to be a muscle piece after struggling for 1 and a half hour and which I thought to be the brain. The asst. prof said 'Which school you are from ?' Didn't they teach you stuff?' Humiliated I begged her to show me once again how to dissect the brain and she did. I sat till 6 pm when everybody had gone and showed the pale white soft frog brain to Mrs. Doodha who was shocked to see a girl staying so late in the college. 'Very good ! but off you run girl, I don't want your parents to panic. Why don't you answer in class but?' I told her I was scared of her and she burst out laughing. 

                         Next day's class started with the Physics teacher's petticoat showing off under the saree from the back and bang she caught Reena whispering into Sonu's ears I wonder what she wears...' 

Girl's College

                     'There comes the devil', Vani Dave whispered into Priya's ears. The Devil was their princi Mrs. Doodha, who was not actually one but who was extremely strict to the extent she knew who visited the college canteen and how often and sometimes the girls would think she even knew what they ate.  She was always properly attired with her 'Saree pallu' pinned at the right place with matching sandals and when she marched in the college corridors everyone knew it was 'her' by the sound her footwear made.  

                                 But she was a hit and popular by all means as she was the 'perfect' lecturer when it came to teach Zoology. I would just sit mesmerized when she would enter the class without any book, go to the blackboard and draw the specimen which she had to teach, with minute details and apt labelling. Oh ! the labelling lines were straight, drawn without the scales. And then she would start describing the animal from top to bottom and each and every part of the member of Animal kingdom would strike alive in my mind. Once I tried to trace the notes she gave by going through 4 to 5 books but found some part of what she taught was missing in each of the books and from then on I believed her notes like a holy book. 

                      From a co-ed school to an 'All girl's college' was a little awkward initially  plus the fact that there would be no 'Mars inhabitants'. It also meant complete freedom from prying, scaling, measuring eyes and you could sit in the class in whatever fashion you wanted to, without bothering to correct the 'dupatta' or pull down the short tops or the other dozens of things one did because of the presence of the opposite sex like deciding how to sit, where to look, how to keep the hands....... My my ! classrooms are one helluva good example if one needed a session on body language. Animal instinct I guess. Nothing different from the preening behaviour of the birds or the other vertebrates. So to cut it short, one was  free from the thought of impressing or attracting the other species. It was a liberating thought which meant I could be myself without those silly botherations. So there I was on the first bench squeezed between girls whom I didn't know at all. My name on the college admission list was 2nd after Monica, the cute fair girl with big specs. Enter the princi and amidst the pin drop silence that followed, pat landed a small chalk piece in front of me. 'You, yes, what's your biological name?' I had been briefed up about her before this class and I mumbled, 'Naina' then suddenly corrected and said 'Homo sapiens'. Ah ! what a relief and I was almost jubilant about giving the apt answer though a bit late. Smile....a big smile on her face and I thought I would occupy her memory for the next two years that I was in this college. But I would never answer in her class whenever she asked questions even after a splendid explanation. She would expect a lot from me and wanted me to answer but somehow I would doubt my answers whether they would match her expectations of a perfect answer. One of the drawbacks of education system where in pursuit of perfection, one never learns to fail, to make mistakes, to try, out of plain fear. The outside world classroom needs just that. Anyways Monica was the apple of her eye because she would always answer even though her English wasn't good. And I would think, Doctor's daughter so all rightly wired up to mouth the correct words.  

                  The Zoology lab-First Dissection practical and we were all given trays to have our frogs to cut upon. We bundled in two groups hovering over one teacher Mrs. Sudha who showed how to take out the poor amphibian's brain. Most of us were mouthing 'yes mam, right mam, ok mam' including me wondering at the back of our minds what the hell she was explaining and understood nothing of what she said. 'So out there you go and start dissecting'. Oops ! how enticing the thought of going back home looked, mom's harsh words were better than this. 'Girls before you start this why not appear for a practical test' boomed the Princi's voice. And we all suddenly turned pally, looking haplessly at each other, and getting tons of 'classmate sympathy'. How lovely this feeling was, sort of united us into one lot, never mind the bitching after the class was over. There they were 16 specimens (dead animals like fish, worms, insects, mammals, reptiles) stuffed in glasswares having formalin that kept their lifeless bodies looking fresh. We had to draw, label and identify them. What a gruesome task and very painful at that ! Chopping vegetables back home when mom shouted looked definitely adorable. Anyways we handed over our papers. 'Who is roll no 1? Roared the Lion. Where have you drawn the mouth of this worm? In the middle ? Near the stomach? How would you look if you had mouth above your stomach and anus right below the stomach? You guys think you can place the body parts anywhere you liked ? And what if some of you will go to Medical college? Look for the mouth near the stomach?' We felt like shaking ourselves to endless laughter thinking about the two most important openings in the body above/below stomach, but were tight lipped and I had this sinking feeling whether I had placed the anus correctly. There she held my paper...'Hmm ! one of the toppers, let me see what has she done with this animal's anatomy, (and my heart started galloping) Well... Good ! Naina keep it up !' God ! all of a sudden I felt like Einstein, the most intelligent being in BMM college, 20 pairs of eyes looking at me with what I didn't bother. 'Drawing is one of the basics in zoology....on she went'. 

                          Then started the dissection. Everyone finished except me. What I took out turned out to be a muscle piece after struggling for 1 and a half hour and which I thought to be the brain. The asst. prof said 'Which school you are from ?' Didn't they teach you stuff?' Humiliated I begged her to show me once again how to dissect the brain and she did. I sat till 6 pm when everybody had gone and showed the pale white soft frog brain to Mrs. Doodha who was shocked to see a girl staying so late in the college. 'Very good ! but off you run girl, I don't want your parents to panic. Why don't you answer in class but?' I told her I was scared of her and she burst out laughing. 

                         Next day's class started with the Physics teacher's petticoat showing off under the saree from the back and bang she caught Reena whispering into Sonu's ears I wonder what she wears...' 

At last !

                        Fidgeting with her 'Saree pallu' for the nth time, sitting alone in her office in the high rise for how long, she had lost count, after all her colleagues had left, Nikhat stood up frustrated. Why is deciding so difficult? Why does the mind want to trace the same paths again and again to come up to the same conclusion? And why is this 'conclusion' not registering in a manner that will calm down her nerves?

                          She sat down once again going through all the times they had spent as part of the vivacious group that had formed out of nowhere, and Gaurav was the guy rumoured to be engaged. Well when did she exactly land up in the 'miss him' trap she wasn't aware but it had happened. She was successful in the work she did, had excellent set of friends, loving parents, doting siblings and herself had a superb E.Q. as well. What's this missing vissing thing, she mused, but couldn't escape the sinking feeling (happiness at the same tima) everytime she met Gaurav. Irony was they cut each other amidst conversations, never missing an opportunity to do so. Well each of them was secretly happy to see the other whenever they all met. Why does one have to maintain a distance with the person whom the heart has accepted ? She was like that once she has accepted that's it. Final word, nothing could change that. She was scared herself of this crazy attitude of hers. How in heaven could Gaurav be hers if he was to be engaged to someone even if it was a rumour? And what's this 'owning feeling'? Stupid, idiotic she thought, 'Get moving lass, its only a feeling, one that stays for few moments  (and yeah ! that tugs you like hell later on, her heart whispered)'. She had had enough of this tussle between her mind and her heart. She had always been straightforward, speaking things out, doing whatever it took to be clear in life and move ahead. Sometimes she thought all this is not worth. Let him be happy wherever he is, with whomsoever he married. And she had lead months like that thinking on similar lines. But then she couldn't avoid him as much as she wanted to. They did bump quite often. And maintaining a formal-friendly-sometimes close- sometimes aloof kind of connection had started unnerving her. Gaurav was different, sometimes she hated him for his 'snobbish' 'I am always right, perfect' attitude, but drawn towards his 'wild ways' at the same time. 

                        She was watching 'Dhoom 2' the other day, one of her favourite movies. She loved the songs and was hooked onto one particular scene, when Hrithik asks Aishwarya to 'jump' with the melodious, soft music in the background. And now suddenly she remembered that and there she was bang on cell phone, tapping Gaurav's number. She almost stopped breathing when he said 'Hey Nick'. 'Ti Amo' she said, surprised at her calm voice that echoed in her heart.

At last !

                        Fidgeting with her 'Saree pallu' for the nth time, sitting alone in her office in the high rise for how long, she had lost count, after all her colleagues had left, Nikhat stood up frustrated. Why is deciding so difficult? Why does the mind want to trace the same paths again and again to come up to the same conclusion? And why is this 'conclusion' not registering in a manner that will calm down her nerves?

                          She sat down once again going through all the times they had spent as part of the vivacious group that had formed out of nowhere, and Gaurav was the guy rumoured to be engaged. Well when did she exactly land up in the 'miss him' trap she wasn't aware but it had happened. She was successful in the work she did, had excellent set of friends, loving parents, doting siblings and herself had a superb E.Q. as well. What's this missing vissing thing, she mused, but couldn't escape the sinking feeling (happiness at the same tima) everytime she met Gaurav. Irony was they cut each other amidst conversations, never missing an opportunity to do so. Well each of them was secretly happy to see the other whenever they all met. Why does one have to maintain a distance with the person whom the heart has accepted ? She was like that once she has accepted that's it. Final word, nothing could change that. She was scared herself of this crazy attitude of hers. How in heaven could Gaurav be hers if he was to be engaged to someone even if it was a rumour? And what's this 'owning feeling'? Stupid, idiotic she thought, 'Get moving lass, its only a feeling, one that stays for few moments  (and yeah ! that tugs you like hell later on, her heart whispered)'. She had had enough of this tussle between her mind and her heart. She had always been straightforward, speaking things out, doing whatever it took to be clear in life and move ahead. Sometimes she thought all this is not worth. Let him be happy wherever he is, with whomsoever he married. And she had lead months like that thinking on similar lines. But then she couldn't avoid him as much as she wanted to. They did bump quite often. And maintaining a formal-friendly-sometimes close- sometimes aloof kind of connection had started unnerving her. Gaurav was different, sometimes she hated him for his 'snobbish' 'I am always right, perfect' attitude, but drawn towards his 'wild ways' at the same time. 

                        She was watching 'Dhoom 2' the other day, one of her favourite movies. She loved the songs and was hooked onto one particular scene, when Hrithik asks Aishwarya to 'jump' with the melodious, soft music in the background. And now suddenly she remembered that and there she was bang on cell phone, tapping Gaurav's number. She almost stopped breathing when he said 'Hey Nick'. 'Ti Amo' she said, surprised at her calm voice that echoed in her heart.

The other cosmos

                        Having stayed in a small township in Gujarat for 13 long years, (which initially I loathed) had to visit villages in and around as part of work. I was reluctant to go at first because many places in Gujarat, though a developed state in India, reeked of stench and mosquitoes owing to the open drainage system for reasons unknown as compared to the cultural city of Pune which I had to leave years back. Well I still remember the first abode I visited in one of the hamlets. The verandah was clean and spotless no fancy tile work though but plain soil, painted with cow dung that had dried and gave a greenish look. We were given chairs to sit upon. During the hour that we spent, didn't experience a single mosquito bite ! Though the house was dark inside, I found things were neatly arranged, the kitchen was clean too. There was no bathroom ! There it was at the backyard far away from the house and I remembered my Great granny's house in Mysore where one had to literally walk few minutes to go to the 'loo'. Around the houses were trees in plenty and fresh air fanned the whole surrounding. Oh ! it was heavenly and I started falling in love with the 'gams' as the villages are called there. Visiting villages became a pleasure trip thereafter, with discovering freshly transplanted rice, 'toor', 'vaal', ( pulses) and freshly grown 'gawar' (cluster beans), 'bhindi' (okra) etc and not to mention the delicious variety of mangoes- The Alphonso and Kesar.

                              It was after a long time after shifting to a city, I got the chance to visit the villages once again. Life appeared simple and 'Nawabi' (Royal) there, with the 'Mehmaannawazi' (hospitality) of our city dweller but landowner friends. Food is one of the real luxuries, being cooked on the 'chulha' with home grown cereals, pulses and vegetables. No glass wares but native style of cooking and served hot. Rice bread 'The Rotlas' prepared with rice flour dough which women dish out with one hand and spread on hot 'tawas' (Pans) using the palms and then dish them out with the spatula onto the flat bamboo woven basket, serving them with pickle, salad, and spicy egg plant or good old potato gravy dish interspersed with whole lentils. The day we reached early morning, began with a cup of hot tea and 'farsan' (snacks). Later as we chatted sitting on the mats, fresh 'chikoos' (Sapota or sapodilla) grown in the backyard arrived. Gujarat grown chikoos are the best in India and its sweetness can't be matched elsewhere. After gulping down a couple of the fleshy fruit, it was time for  mid morning 'Mohanthaal' (a sweet dish compulsory in Gujarati weddings). And thus the day went on with eating, napping going around the house and fields. After attending two weddings in a typical 'hot summer at its peak day', it was time to sleep and we were informed, we were to sleep on the terrace ! Wow ! as comfy the beds spread on the terrace looked, even more spectacular was the star show on the sky above. It was after nearly two decades that I got to see the huge number of heavenly darlings in the night and the eyes hit idyllic sopor.

                      A morning walk of about three kilometers into the vineyard of local vegetable called 'tindora' and brinjals plus many other wild species with their berries, some used in pickles was exhilarating. The mango trees were bare, very less fruit a man said. The hut amidst the vegetable farm and mango trees looked picturesque, otherwise a norm, a necessity in the village, where one stayed to drive away the nocturnals which would harm the crop. Either one of the family members would stay or someone would be hired for the purpose. The walk back home was a learning experience as well, with the sheep minus their furs and goats, all bundled up in a pen, the rooster running helter skelter and cuckoos singing at top of their voices. 

                          A lazy affair the village visit...didn't have to be formal, was jolly good self, meandering here and there except for few curious looks from the dwellers. Clicking a slow life was fun, there was work but unlike the helter skelter affair of the city, and urgency for what? The morning breakfast, the afternoon meal and then dinner. All the shredding, chopping of vegetables in bulk by 3 to 4 ladies in the house was sheer fun to watch. In fact few women even showed the vegetables they were chopping in the right angles so that I could click, after the initial look of amusement on their faces. How blissful it is to breathe in the idyllic den !

The other cosmos

                        Having stayed in a small township in Gujarat for 13 long years, (which initially I loathed) had to visit villages in and around as part of work. I was reluctant to go at first because many places in Gujarat, though a developed state in India, reeked of stench and mosquitoes owing to the open drainage system for reasons unknown as compared to the cultural city of Pune which I had to leave years back. Well I still remember the first abode I visited in one of the hamlets. The verandah was clean and spotless no fancy tile work though but plain soil, painted with cow dung that had dried and gave a greenish look. We were given chairs to sit upon. During the hour that we spent, didn't experience a single mosquito bite ! Though the house was dark inside, I found things were neatly arranged, the kitchen was clean too. There was no bathroom ! There it was at the backyard far away from the house and I remembered my Great granny's house in Mysore where one had to literally walk few minutes to go to the 'loo'. Around the houses were trees in plenty and fresh air fanned the whole surrounding. Oh ! it was heavenly and I started falling in love with the 'gams' as the villages are called there. Visiting villages became a pleasure trip thereafter, with discovering freshly transplanted rice, 'toor', 'vaal', ( pulses) and freshly grown 'gawar' (cluster beans), 'bhindi' (okra) etc and not to mention the delicious variety of mangoes- The Alphonso and Kesar.

                              It was after a long time after shifting to a city, I got the chance to visit the villages once again. Life appeared simple and 'Nawabi' (Royal) there, with the 'Mehmaannawazi' (hospitality) of our city dweller but landowner friends. Food is one of the real luxuries, being cooked on the 'chulha' with home grown cereals, pulses and vegetables. No glass wares but native style of cooking and served hot. Rice bread 'The Rotlas' prepared with rice flour dough which women dish out with one hand and spread on hot 'tawas' (Pans) using the palms and then dish them out with the spatula onto the flat bamboo woven basket, serving them with pickle, salad, and spicy egg plant or good old potato gravy dish interspersed with whole lentils. The day we reached early morning, began with a cup of hot tea and 'farsan' (snacks). Later as we chatted sitting on the mats, fresh 'chikoos' (Sapota or sapodilla) grown in the backyard arrived. Gujarat grown chikoos are the best in India and its sweetness can't be matched elsewhere. After gulping down a couple of the fleshy fruit, it was time for  mid morning 'Mohanthaal' (a sweet dish compulsory in Gujarati weddings). And thus the day went on with eating, napping going around the house and fields. After attending two weddings in a typical 'hot summer at its peak day', it was time to sleep and we were informed, we were to sleep on the terrace ! Wow ! as comfy the beds spread on the terrace looked, even more spectacular was the star show on the sky above. It was after nearly two decades that I got to see the huge number of heavenly darlings in the night and the eyes hit idyllic sopor.

                      A morning walk of about three kilometers into the vineyard of local vegetable called 'tindora' and brinjals plus many other wild species with their berries, some used in pickles was exhilarating. The mango trees were bare, very less fruit a man said. The hut amidst the vegetable farm and mango trees looked picturesque, otherwise a norm, a necessity in the village, where one stayed to drive away the nocturnals which would harm the crop. Either one of the family members would stay or someone would be hired for the purpose. The walk back home was a learning experience as well, with the sheep minus their furs and goats, all bundled up in a pen, the rooster running helter skelter and cuckoos singing at top of their voices. 

                          A lazy affair the village visit...didn't have to be formal, was jolly good self, meandering here and there except for few curious looks from the dwellers. Clicking a slow life was fun, there was work but unlike the helter skelter affair of the city, and urgency for what? The morning breakfast, the afternoon meal and then dinner. All the shredding, chopping of vegetables in bulk by 3 to 4 ladies in the house was sheer fun to watch. In fact few women even showed the vegetables they were chopping in the right angles so that I could click, after the initial look of amusement on their faces. How blissful it is to breathe in the idyllic den !

The Well

                 Ruquaiya peeped into the well and tried to gauge its depth. It was a huge well lined all around neatly with moss laden bricks, but it was dirty. Hmm ! the houses in the village she was visiting, for a friend's wedding, had taps to provide the vital drink and so the wells were like antique pieces dotting the Kakadmati gam (village in Gujarati) and had their own old world charm. While she was very much a part of the current world, she was hooked onto things that were sort of 'historic' may be because they had some story about themselves, and this fascinated her. She would go off in a trance like state while visiting old architectures. Taj Mahal had been one such incident when the people she was with, had to yell for her to come back as the tour bus was leaving and she ? She was somewhere in Shahjahan's time and wondering what all had been in the so romantic Emperor's mind and how much of his mind was occupied by Mumtaz ? How much effort had he taken in the minuscule details that made the Taj a masterpiece indeed ! A loving (emotional)  heart and a constructive (logical)  mind ! What a match !

                                  How mystifying she thought as she once again gazed into the still waters of the well. While it takes feelings in as much as to make a heart tender, it takes reason to build tangibles. A combination of both is sheer pleasure to have around be it a man or a woman. That reminded of Dheer, the guy her friend had introduced as a cousin. Now he was a gaamwala (villager) as his attire showed but his being exuded charisma. His eyes spoke and his being told that he did all the hard work a village life demands from an inhabitant. While the calmness of the village was an ecstasy for short term visits of the towner, the regular hamlet dweller had to walk distances on the bare mud, in the sun, sort the waste from the useful produce both of which Mother Earth generated in profuse, find the market for them and then relax which she guessed was a rarity. She practically found Dheer ever staying at a place. Talk about her kins who stayed abroad and had to do their own household chores as the labour was costly, here the scene was no different. People washed, cleaned, cooked which took most of the day's time. She learned later that Dheer's dad, a banker owned few acres of land in the village, and that he was a post graduate in Human resource development who stayed in the nearby city of Ahmedabad, along with his mother who worked for the telephone department. They grew Alhonso's, rice,  lentils etc as per the season and this being the Alphonso season, Dheer was all geared up for the work the fruit demanded and so the villager's attire. She could not stop herself from clicking like crazy the views the village household or the premises presented and bang clicked Mr. Charisma suddenly as he lifted his head up while 'datooning' (brushing teeth from the Neem stick). Perfect she thought, a typical 'gaam' pose. Dheer smiled and offered to take her around for few more photographs. My ! they were literally chasing peacocks that ate cucumbers which Dheer's aunt had planted. The brinjals hung low while the salad king lay asleep on the mud amidst the leaves. They ate a local fruit, 'the chibdo' that tasted like 'Kharbooz' (a kind of melon)  sprinkled with sugar. She found his company utterly pleasing and he in turn enjoyed her wow ! every few minutes. Then he took her to a well that was deserted and told a story of the hamlet's wherein two youngsters of different community had fallen for each other, often meeting by the well and later had eloped in fear.

                            He was strictly against inter caste marriage he told her. Though they both fell for each other too in the few days she stayed, he gave the feeling that he was rooted to the 'gam' and its customs. They promised each other to meet up in the city. And there he was at the Cafe Coffee Day in Levis and Nike, where she was sipping the Latte dreaming about the past few  days. And she ran into his arms not caring about the permanency of the bond that had developed.

The Well

                 Ruquaiya peeped into the well and tried to gauge its depth. It was a huge well lined all around neatly with moss laden bricks, but it was dirty. Hmm ! the houses in the village she was visiting, for a friend's wedding, had taps to provide the vital drink and so the wells were like antique pieces dotting the Kakadmati gam (village in Gujarati) and had their own old world charm. While she was very much a part of the current world, she was hooked onto things that were sort of 'historic' may be because they had some story about themselves, and this fascinated her. She would go off in a trance like state while visiting old architectures. Taj Mahal had been one such incident when the people she was with, had to yell for her to come back as the tour bus was leaving and she ? She was somewhere in Shahjahan's time and wondering what all had been in the so romantic Emperor's mind and how much of his mind was occupied by Mumtaz ? How much effort had he taken in the minuscule details that made the Taj a masterpiece indeed ! A loving (emotional)  heart and a constructive (logical)  mind ! What a match !

                                  How mystifying she thought as she once again gazed into the still waters of the well. While it takes feelings in as much as to make a heart tender, it takes reason to build tangibles. A combination of both is sheer pleasure to have around be it a man or a woman. That reminded of Dheer, the guy her friend had introduced as a cousin. Now he was a gaamwala (villager) as his attire showed but his being exuded charisma. His eyes spoke and his being told that he did all the hard work a village life demands from an inhabitant. While the calmness of the village was an ecstasy for short term visits of the towner, the regular hamlet dweller had to walk distances on the bare mud, in the sun, sort the waste from the useful produce both of which Mother Earth generated in profuse, find the market for them and then relax which she guessed was a rarity. She practically found Dheer ever staying at a place. Talk about her kins who stayed abroad and had to do their own household chores as the labour was costly, here the scene was no different. People washed, cleaned, cooked which took most of the day's time. She learned later that Dheer's dad, a banker owned few acres of land in the village, and that he was a post graduate in Human resource development who stayed in the nearby city of Ahmedabad, along with his mother who worked for the telephone department. They grew Alhonso's, rice,  lentils etc as per the season and this being the Alphonso season, Dheer was all geared up for the work the fruit demanded and so the villager's attire. She could not stop herself from clicking like crazy the views the village household or the premises presented and bang clicked Mr. Charisma suddenly as he lifted his head up while 'datooning' (brushing teeth from the Neem stick). Perfect she thought, a typical 'gaam' pose. Dheer smiled and offered to take her around for few more photographs. My ! they were literally chasing peacocks that ate cucumbers which Dheer's aunt had planted. The brinjals hung low while the salad king lay asleep on the mud amidst the leaves. They ate a local fruit, 'the chibdo' that tasted like 'Kharbooz' (a kind of melon)  sprinkled with sugar. She found his company utterly pleasing and he in turn enjoyed her wow ! every few minutes. Then he took her to a well that was deserted and told a story of the hamlet's wherein two youngsters of different community had fallen for each other, often meeting by the well and later had eloped in fear.

                            He was strictly against inter caste marriage he told her. Though they both fell for each other too in the few days she stayed, he gave the feeling that he was rooted to the 'gam' and its customs. They promised each other to meet up in the city. And there he was at the Cafe Coffee Day in Levis and Nike, where she was sipping the Latte dreaming about the past few  days. And she ran into his arms not caring about the permanency of the bond that had developed.

Yes !

                       Nishita looked out of the window, far beyond...taking in the vista and a Mona Lisa smile made its appearance on her face. What was it that made her heart beat today with a rhythm it had played years back ? Well not that she was totally euphoric but man there was this 'something' which was enigmatic. O.k. not the time to analyse she said to herself, what the heck ? Enjoy it baby ! She made for the door, collecting her car keys, goggles, purse, cell, house keys,..Uh ! why can't one just leave without all these, she wondered.

                        She reached the party just in time, her friend had arranged, just a get together of familiar friends. Sujay and herself had been long term acquaintances with personalities that clashed rather than match. He was brilliant, could steer any conversation in the direction he wanted to, was witty, quick to roll out facts and figures and sometimes dominated the talks. She contradicted everything he said but of course it was genuinely done. She knew he didn't like it. The Male factor... she would tell herself. He must get a woman boss she would think and then watch the fun. No he would quit the same day, he was like that. God ! how many times they had clashed while talking about women CEO's in the private major financial institutions. Not that she had something against men but she just couldn't stand anyone pointing at the female species. 

                           Yesterday while coming out from the Multiplex, she found him standing besides her and for some strange reason he stood there for a long time, not moving an inch and on top of it, they weren't arguing ! She felt like there was some unknown power that was making her stand there and not move too. Why ? And suddenly a sentence caught her ear and gone was the feeling as she heard him saying things like 'Emotions are silly, one must be logical in approach towards life etc, women are emotionally wired...' But somehow she didn't retort thinking no use in wasting energy to make him 'understand' her species, her kind. At times like these she preferred 'girl's company. How sweet, how reassuring, how comfy it was with them, you didn't have to explain your emotions. It was understood. But why had she felt like that few moments ago? And today at the party, she found him besides her once again. What was going on? Yes ! now she got it. Usually they would be standing opposite and talk or they would be sitting opposite to each other. He still spoke the same things that caught her nerves but stood besides her every time he spoke. Hey ! what's with standing, sitting at sides girl ? O.k. she said, 'Accept it. You like this new arrangement and continue whatever you were up to like before'. She was fiercely independent and liked to have her own space and sometimes felt as if he was intruding ! It was confusing ! She had learnt, 'If you are confused, don't think too much just keep on going, after few days everything gets sorted out without your presence'. Flow was the key. She knew he could be snobbish at times, sometimes he appeared conceited to her, like 'Darcy' in Pride and prejudice perhaps? Oh ! there it was, her favourite classic and things got clear. He possessed some genuine human attributes which hell ! yes did attract her like that day when he helped an elderly lady to fetch a seat in a restaurant or the way he handled her friend's son who was practically yelling. And today when she broke away from the group because she found his presence overwhelming, she felt at peace. She knew he would never do something like 'proposing' or even say the three musical words, because he didn't believe in them, and she was the perfect 'maiden' never to go first, things would be as they are: togetherness in distance...

Yes !

                       Nishita looked out of the window, far beyond...taking in the vista and a Mona Lisa smile made its appearance on her face. What was it that made her heart beat today with a rhythm it had played years back ? Well not that she was totally euphoric but man there was this 'something' which was enigmatic. O.k. not the time to analyse she said to herself, what the heck ? Enjoy it baby ! She made for the door, collecting her car keys, goggles, purse, cell, house keys,..Uh ! why can't one just leave without all these, she wondered.

                        She reached the party just in time, her friend had arranged, just a get together of familiar friends. Sujay and herself had been long term acquaintances with personalities that clashed rather than match. He was brilliant, could steer any conversation in the direction he wanted to, was witty, quick to roll out facts and figures and sometimes dominated the talks. She contradicted everything he said but of course it was genuinely done. She knew he didn't like it. The Male factor... she would tell herself. He must get a woman boss she would think and then watch the fun. No he would quit the same day, he was like that. God ! how many times they had clashed while talking about women CEO's in the private major financial institutions. Not that she had something against men but she just couldn't stand anyone pointing at the female species. 

                           Yesterday while coming out from the Multiplex, she found him standing besides her and for some strange reason he stood there for a long time, not moving an inch and on top of it, they weren't arguing ! She felt like there was some unknown power that was making her stand there and not move too. Why ? And suddenly a sentence caught her ear and gone was the feeling as she heard him saying things like 'Emotions are silly, one must be logical in approach towards life etc, women are emotionally wired...' But somehow she didn't retort thinking no use in wasting energy to make him 'understand' her species, her kind. At times like these she preferred 'girl's company. How sweet, how reassuring, how comfy it was with them, you didn't have to explain your emotions. It was understood. But why had she felt like that few moments ago? And today at the party, she found him besides her once again. What was going on? Yes ! now she got it. Usually they would be standing opposite and talk or they would be sitting opposite to each other. He still spoke the same things that caught her nerves but stood besides her every time he spoke. Hey ! what's with standing, sitting at sides girl ? O.k. she said, 'Accept it. You like this new arrangement and continue whatever you were up to like before'. She was fiercely independent and liked to have her own space and sometimes felt as if he was intruding ! It was confusing ! She had learnt, 'If you are confused, don't think too much just keep on going, after few days everything gets sorted out without your presence'. Flow was the key. She knew he could be snobbish at times, sometimes he appeared conceited to her, like 'Darcy' in Pride and prejudice perhaps? Oh ! there it was, her favourite classic and things got clear. He possessed some genuine human attributes which hell ! yes did attract her like that day when he helped an elderly lady to fetch a seat in a restaurant or the way he handled her friend's son who was practically yelling. And today when she broke away from the group because she found his presence overwhelming, she felt at peace. She knew he would never do something like 'proposing' or even say the three musical words, because he didn't believe in them, and she was the perfect 'maiden' never to go first, things would be as they are: togetherness in distance...

Thoo dhoop hai, cham se bikhar...

                 Strange ! how sometimes you sit at the keyboard and you know there are a plenty things to write about but there's this inner denial which doesn't let the fingers hit the keys. Somehow I have always have had this experience that 'pain', or you call a craving, a deep one at that or an extreme desire or just plain infatuation with just about anything....creates the urge to write... to tap the keys in a flow. Are words then answers to these human abstracts? Going through one of the blogs 'the pakhi series' suddenly brought life to the fingers that had refused to even touch the letters. Thanks to all the bloggers ! Thanks Reema !

                    There was this girl who was two and a half years old, lets call her Mini who was found always crying in the school where I taught. As it was a new school and we were sort of pioneers, acting as teachers, sometimes like moms to the nursery/junior kids, to the extent that we would even carry some 2+ year olds and take for a walk showing trees and stuff like that. The management allowed that ! I was a pseudo princi, my kid being five years old, so didn't take the chair but enjoyed doing whatever it took to run an English Medium CBSE school in a small township. Well this girl would always tag behind some teacher or the other. Once I got an opportunity to go for a proxy to her class and enjoyed playing with the nursery kids, indulging in all sorts of silly imaginations (I taught higher standards but this was sheer fun). Lunch bell rang and all the tiny tots ran towards their 'tiffin'bags and water bottles. Not Mini. So I brought it for her and finding no interest on her part to open it, I opened it to find a stale looking fried rice. No wonder the kid behaved the way she did. In fact I always felt this little one had some psychological hang up and trust me there are a few like that in all the schools and my heart went out for them but what can you do in a 'formal school' where you are expected to only 'teach subjects'. I started a game with Mini after making the other kids to share their lunch boxes with her. She was continuously crying. We brought a doll from the cupboard, and our conversation was something like this:

'Mini this doll is crying baby. Do something. She is sad'

'Ma'm why is she sad?'

'I don't know. She won't tell me. May be she will tell you because you are small like her Mini'.

Surprisingly our Mini stopped crying and what followed was just a pleasure to watch. She put the doll on her lap trying to put her to sleep, sometimes she kept it on her shoulder, moving her hands over the doll's back and like an adult talked to the doll telling her to sleep. I said 'Good the doll likes Mini a lot that's why she's slept'. Mini says,'No ma'm, its not mini, she likes Raju uncle'. I asked her who he was and she replied it was he who put her to sleep or cared for her when she cried because Mamma was in the clinic and Papa in the factory ! How role plays influence children ! Later I found the girl stayed in my street in the corner and she was always with a caretaker, an old lady and from then on whenver Mini met me somewhere in our colony, she would shout and wave. And once even refused to go back to her home.

Thoo dhoop hai, cham se bikhar...

                 Strange ! how sometimes you sit at the keyboard and you know there are a plenty things to write about but there's this inner denial which doesn't let the fingers hit the keys. Somehow I have always have had this experience that 'pain', or you call a craving, a deep one at that or an extreme desire or just plain infatuation with just about anything....creates the urge to write... to tap the keys in a flow. Are words then answers to these human abstracts? Going through one of the blogs 'the pakhi series' suddenly brought life to the fingers that had refused to even touch the letters. Thanks to all the bloggers ! Thanks Reema !

                    There was this girl who was two and a half years old, lets call her Mini who was found always crying in the school where I taught. As it was a new school and we were sort of pioneers, acting as teachers, sometimes like moms to the nursery/junior kids, to the extent that we would even carry some 2+ year olds and take for a walk showing trees and stuff like that. The management allowed that ! I was a pseudo princi, my kid being five years old, so didn't take the chair but enjoyed doing whatever it took to run an English Medium CBSE school in a small township. Well this girl would always tag behind some teacher or the other. Once I got an opportunity to go for a proxy to her class and enjoyed playing with the nursery kids, indulging in all sorts of silly imaginations (I taught higher standards but this was sheer fun). Lunch bell rang and all the tiny tots ran towards their 'tiffin'bags and water bottles. Not Mini. So I brought it for her and finding no interest on her part to open it, I opened it to find a stale looking fried rice. No wonder the kid behaved the way she did. In fact I always felt this little one had some psychological hang up and trust me there are a few like that in all the schools and my heart went out for them but what can you do in a 'formal school' where you are expected to only 'teach subjects'. I started a game with Mini after making the other kids to share their lunch boxes with her. She was continuously crying. We brought a doll from the cupboard, and our conversation was something like this:

'Mini this doll is crying baby. Do something. She is sad'

'Ma'm why is she sad?'

'I don't know. She won't tell me. May be she will tell you because you are small like her Mini'.

Surprisingly our Mini stopped crying and what followed was just a pleasure to watch. She put the doll on her lap trying to put her to sleep, sometimes she kept it on her shoulder, moving her hands over the doll's back and like an adult talked to the doll telling her to sleep. I said 'Good the doll likes Mini a lot that's why she's slept'. Mini says,'No ma'm, its not mini, she likes Raju uncle'. I asked her who he was and she replied it was he who put her to sleep or cared for her when she cried because Mamma was in the clinic and Papa in the factory ! How role plays influence children ! Later I found the girl stayed in my street in the corner and she was always with a caretaker, an old lady and from then on whenver Mini met me somewhere in our colony, she would shout and wave. And once even refused to go back to her home.

The Cell phone

           Call it a blessing (when we use it for our self) or an evil (when someone else uses, in a way that disturbs your being). Instances of the latter kind are many but once while on train, going to Mumbai, there was this girl on her 'cell' talking incessantly about her boyfriend. As it is the season being summer, the coach was packed,  which meant I couldn't risk leaving my place, so was forced to hear all the details which maybe some other time may have sounded interesting but that day was just irritating ! Then there is this girl who stays in the flat one floor below and who comes out on the terrace which's below my window, to talk whenever her cell rings. One day I was reading, sitting near the window, one of my favourite reading corner, when these conversations broke my reverie : 'Ya she was wearing that apple green dress you know....which green?... I said apple green, the one she wears very rarely....ya the one with floral prints in the kurti....no no not that green something like green apple....'. This colour tale went on and on till I almost felt like grabbing her cell and explain to whoever it was on the other side which green this girl meant ! In fact I had forgotten whatever I had been reading and the mind wondered on the female quest to know details about 'colours and prints'. Then on other day I got to hear a full sermon why 'he' was not the right guy for Priya and how our girl had tried her best to convince her and I for once felt tempted to join the Engineering college which this girl attended.

                            One morning while enjoying the breeze on my terrace, out of nowhere came the voice,'mazha maher....ho na....tar kay sangu...nayee me mothi mulgee....mazha bhau... (my mother's place...oh ! what shall I say...no I am the eldest...my brother)' so on and so forth and I got all the information in one shot about the couple whom I had hardly met and who stayed in the flat above me, and whose window was above my terrace. God ! is there some place where I could enjoy privacy ? And the apartment complex where I stay all of a sudden appeared like a chawl. Then there is the lift where a gentleman starts his office right on the cell phone. The bus is another place where once I almost started worrying about the guy's problem at his office as there was nothing else to do as the traffic moved slowly. On another instance, a guy who was telling his boss,'I am on my way sir, am held in a traffic jam sir...' and this went on for about fifteen minutes until I got terribly bored. On top of it, this guy starts talking to me about his boss ! Where does this cell phone mania end ?

The Cell phone

           Call it a blessing (when we use it for our self) or an evil (when someone else uses, in a way that disturbs your being). Instances of the latter kind are many but once while on train, going to Mumbai, there was this girl on her 'cell' talking incessantly about her boyfriend. As it is the season being summer, the coach was packed,  which meant I couldn't risk leaving my place, so was forced to hear all the details which maybe some other time may have sounded interesting but that day was just irritating ! Then there is this girl who stays in the flat one floor below and who comes out on the terrace which's below my window, to talk whenever her cell rings. One day I was reading, sitting near the window, one of my favourite reading corner, when these conversations broke my reverie : 'Ya she was wearing that apple green dress you know....which green?... I said apple green, the one she wears very rarely....ya the one with floral prints in the kurti....no no not that green something like green apple....'. This colour tale went on and on till I almost felt like grabbing her cell and explain to whoever it was on the other side which green this girl meant ! In fact I had forgotten whatever I had been reading and the mind wondered on the female quest to know details about 'colours and prints'. Then on other day I got to hear a full sermon why 'he' was not the right guy for Priya and how our girl had tried her best to convince her and I for once felt tempted to join the Engineering college which this girl attended.

                            One morning while enjoying the breeze on my terrace, out of nowhere came the voice,'mazha maher....ho na....tar kay sangu...nayee me mothi mulgee....mazha bhau... (my mother's place...oh ! what shall I say...no I am the eldest...my brother)' so on and so forth and I got all the information in one shot about the couple whom I had hardly met and who stayed in the flat above me, and whose window was above my terrace. God ! is there some place where I could enjoy privacy ? And the apartment complex where I stay all of a sudden appeared like a chawl. Then there is the lift where a gentleman starts his office right on the cell phone. The bus is another place where once I almost started worrying about the guy's problem at his office as there was nothing else to do as the traffic moved slowly. On another instance, a guy who was telling his boss,'I am on my way sir, am held in a traffic jam sir...' and this went on for about fifteen minutes until I got terribly bored. On top of it, this guy starts talking to me about his boss ! Where does this cell phone mania end ?