(Presenting to you people the first look of the soon to be published book by my dearest friend Sumanta Chanda.. The story follows the coming of age journey of himself and the experiences he learned through various phases, incidents and persons in his life. This is just a Prologue for you people to have a look of what is to come. Have a look..)
|The poster created by the man himself
My trysts with Ms.Margaret
Escapades with an imaginative personality
21st December 2012, 3.30 am
The night was chilly as ice, cutting through our skin and making us shiver. My friends dropped me off at my doorstep, bidding me adieu and warning me to get up early on time the next morning.
“ Early..!! Ahh...That’s the word I hate the most. I mean c’mon. I am human. I too value my sleep. And on top of that this bloody cold. Who in their right senses would ‘want’ to get up early...” I thought out to myself.
The thing is, I can easily guarantee than nobody in this entire world, (and I speak mainly of my own ilk), would ever want to get up early, whatever the season might be. But our lives are such, filled with umpteen responsibilities and tasks that we do not have any other option, but to start our day early to carry out these tasks.
I really want to catch hold of the person who made this idiotic rule, where all our tasks, jobs and responsibilities have to be started early in the day. I mean, how dumb were they. Couldn’t they have made the rule to maybe like after 12 pm. How convenient would that have been isn’t’ it?
All these thoughts were really getting on my nerves, and before doing anything else I decided to do something about this godforsaken rule. For that, I had to talk to the supreme authority. The Prime Minister himself. Luckily, enough, I just realized, that he lived just a floor above me.
So without wasting any more of my precious time, I put on my tricoloured T-shirt, and ran towards his apartment. I pressed the bell a little hard, suddenly realizing I was a little apprehensive. After all it was 4 in the morning. What if I am kicked out, or worse arrested for disturbing the PM at this ungodly hour. But the hell with it. After all this was a question of the precious lives of the nation’s youth. Before I could add any more thoughts to my demented mind, the door opened.
A frail looking genial old man wearing a plain banyan was looking at me with groggy eyes. He gave the impression of a very ‘becahra haal ka maara’ kind of a person. I asked him skeptically, “ Is Manmohan Singh Ji at home?? “
The man looked at me with tired eyes and finally said in an almost lyrical tone, “Puttar, is this a joke?? I am Manmohan Singh.”
I looked at him and immediately opened Photoshop in my mind’s eye. I added a blue overlarge turban on this man’s head, with an old pair of specs to adorn his eyes and an Indian suit on his body. Okay, something was amiss. Hold on..!! I went to Google Images, downloaded Sonia Gandhi’s latest picture and placed it beside him.
Yeah...Now he was looking like our very own Manmohan Singh.
All this time, while I was into my super thoughts, the kind old Mr. Singh was patiently waiting for me to respond. He was observing me with a grandfather kind of look in his eyes.
I came back to my senses and addressed him. “Sorry Sir, I got lost in my thoughts.”
“No problem betaji. I understand that meeting a public personality can be quite unnerving for some. Now you please come inside and tell me what do you want.” He said and gestured me inside his apartment.
As I entered his simple looking house, I further asked him, “Sir, tell me one thing. I woke you up at this hour. Didn’t that bother you?”
We both sat down on his sofa before he replied. “Who would want to get up at this hour betaji. After all, even I am a normal human being. But it is my responsibility to take care of you people.”
“Exactly my point Sir,” I immediately said. “This...This...Responsibility thing has totally shredded the lives of us youngsters. This country can only run peacefully if the youngsters are fit. Am I not right? Now tell me, if our youth is not fit, how would this country run?? Have you ever given a thought towards their health needs??”
Hearing this Mr. Singh looked visibly annoyed and replied,” How do you know that our youth are not healthy? I have provided so many facilities. A health minister, so many hospitals etc. Yet, you so easily claim that I am not concerned about the youth’s health.”
I had to defend my point and so said, “Look Sir, You try and have a look at today’s youngsters at their homes. Everyone is burdened with various responsibilities. Someone with their career issues, some with money hassles and some with love issues. In all this what does the youth of today ask?? “
Before he could say anything, I answered back.
“Sleep... That beautiful sleep... You have to understand one thing Sir. This country can only run if the youth is happy and relaxed. And you are not letting us be blissful by depriving us of our sleep.”
“ What did I do betaji??“ he asked a little shocked before adding in a sad tone, “No matter what happens in this country you people always blame things on me.”
I didn’t have time to pity him. There were important issues to address.
“What do you mean, what have you done?? You have this wretched rule of doing everything we have to do in the early morning itself. Why?? Have you ever thought that we youngsters too have our special needs? We reach home after a hectic day, looking forward to some Facebook time; where we share all our feelings of love, happiness, anger and discussing the important issues of our country with our friends. That requires time you see. Till about 1-2 at night. And after that we look forward to some sweet dreams, but that is cut short by this stupid morning where we have to get up again. Don’t mind Sir, but you are about 70 already. You have slept a lot in your life and will keep doing so. What about us? These rules have destroyed our lives.” I lamented.
Singh ji said, “I understand your feelings betaji. But I haven’t made these rules. I have only been in power since the last eight years. It must have been made by the one before me.”
“Oh c’mon Sir, I put my hands up in frustration.” If you haven’t made them. You surely have the power to change them.”
“So what do you want me to do betaji.” He asked meekly.
“Well.” I settled down again, thinking deeply. “I want you to make a new rule. Wherein, every kid younger than 16 years of age has to sleep for a minimum of 10 hours; even if they do not like to. And similarly, every person who is above 16 has to sleep for a minimum of 12 hours; whether they like it or not. Else they would be thrown out from their jobs, and the kids would be kicked out from their school. Got my point?”
Singh ji was in deep thought for a moment then said, "What you say seems in favour of the country. But I have a question. How do we find out how much has one child slept?”
“Arrey Sirji, for that then would these Chinese come in use for. We are always fighting with them. Let us take some of their talent of good use for our benefit. Ask them to develop a software which would find out on who sleeps how much. Simple. Now just call Soniaya Madam and ask her to get this thing done”
He looked at me wearily and said, "But Betaji, if these Chinese wanted they could have easily made such a software long back. After all they too love their sleep don’t they?”
“ Arrey these Chinese.. They have half their eyes closed anyways. How much more sleep would they want. So forget this and just call Soniya Madam.” I told him impatiently.
He paused for a bit and then asked me,” Just one more question betaji. Why this partiality? I mean why do the 16 year olds get 10 hours of sleep and the 16 plus get 12 hours? Shouldn’t there be equality?”
I immediately responded, "Look Sir, today these kids, they become adolescents at 16 only. They fall in love, and get involved in all the other hassles that come with being an adult, taking the whole world of depression along with it. Now the more tensed and depressed they are the more sleep they would need isn’t it? Now please Sir, let’s not waste any more time on this. Just call Soniya Ma’m will you?”
He looked a little embarrassed at this and meekly said,” You see, I don’t have any balance on my phone at the moment. Soniya Madam usually calls me up in the morning to wake me up. I am waiting for her call. When she does, I will inform her about your stupendous idea” He finished with a smile.
“Wow Sir, You are the best. Seriosuly.. You are the best PM we have. You listened to an ‘aam aadmi’ like me and are trying to help him out. Hats off to you Sir.” I almost said this in a salute to him.
Singh ji looked pleased at the comment and was about to say something when the shrill voice of his mobile’s ringtone screaming “Tum hi ho maata , pita tum hi ho” broke the silence of the morning. His mannerisms changed immediately, becoming serious he offered me the phone, “Its Soniya Ji. I think you should talk to her first. Tell her about the idea.”
I took the phone and answered it, “Namaste Soniya ji.”
“ What the F... Have you gone nuts. What Soniya Ji!! This is Soni here you ass. Looks like you still haven’t gotten over your last night’s drink yet.”
The lady didn’t sound like Soniya ji at all, in fact she was sounding quite familiar. Someone I knew..Someone I talked to everyday.
And as I thought this, Singh Sir and his home vanished from my eyes and I found myself slumped on the sofa of my home. Feeling extremely dizzy and coming back to my senses and trying hard to remember what had happened.
Okay, so last night I had a drinks session with my friends. And well.. In the excitement of the big day I drank a glass too many of the rum. It was because of that wretched drink, that I was making such a rotten comedy film, even worse than David Dhawan’s , in my dream. The girl at the other end of the phone was not the Congress party leader but my very own lady love, Soni.
She jarred me back to my senses again, “Helooo...You there?? What the hell yaar..”
“ Oh sorry dear, I am awake now. Don’t you worry.” I hastily replied.
“Right. Then congratulation my love.. So it’s your big today. Finally here. We all have been waiting for this day for so long. Now please get ready for it. Don’t waste your time. We all will meet you soon. Ok?” she said in her usual sweet voice.
“Oh. Yeah. I had completely forgotten about it. But don’t worry. I will just get fresh and meet you guys soon.” Saying this I hung up. Her voice actually soothed me down a bit.
I kept still for a moment, trying to recollect my thoughts, the weird dream. My eyes suddenly hit the morning paper kept on the table beside the sofa. Manmohan Singh, all dressed up in his black suit and blue turban, was smiling in it from the front page. It almost felt he was looking at me. I smiled to myself, and quietly told him. “Thank you Sirjee. Wish me luck.”
************************ (To be Continued)