The GHPS Chronicles

The Secret Cult

 

So, I am back with another funny incident to tell you from my school. It comes from the time when I was in class 10^th. There were six of us- Ankur (Gaur), Arvind, Gauraw, Pradumn, Me, Sandeep and Vishal (also called as Mama). We used to hang around together as we thought we were the sanest people in the class. Others consisted of characters such as, Some transport company owner’s sons who were least concerned about studies and the thing that mattered most for them were there looks, A mad guy who nobody knows why was always bullying students as well as teachers, Some guys who had an established business and were going to carry on with it after school and were just passing the time nowhere but in the school and Girls don’t need a mentioning (no offence intended).

During the time for lunch all the students were to go out on the ground; nobody should remain in the building. We all were forced out from the classes. Everybody ate their lunch on the ground and spent their time there only. But it’s not fun being everybody, so we always wanted a departure from the regular thing. We found a place that hardly anybody knew or visited. It was our secret place. The layout of our school is difficult to explain but what I can tell you is there are 4 halls made in front of the main building which can be used for different activities and the first of the halls and the main building both touched the boundary of the ground. From behind the first hall was a half built swimming pool, which was in that condition since time immemorial. The pool counted for length of one hall and after that, behind the hall there was an empty space which was not used. Mango trees grew there and there were stairs made on the backside of halls for entry on the stage in times of some function. These stairs served as our dining place and everyday we used to go there and have our lunch in peace and serenity away from all the chaos and ruckus that went on the ground.

In those days when you are young you are captivated by such things as a secret society or a thing that is just between you and your friends, especially in your adolescence. The secret lunch place proved to be the bonding for our undeclared secret society. Although nobody said it but it was there, all of us were a member of this group which had its headquarters behind the halls and met everyday at lunch. This was our place, I being the most enthusiastic about such things (thanks to my addiction for Hollywood movies and adventure novels), thought that there has to be one thing that unites us. One thing that differentiated our identities and would always be there to make us feel belonged.

 

This was achieved by a slogan which was coined after the brand of a water tank. Yes, a water tank. It was iconic because we also had a secret place to drink water after having our lunch, where a plastic water tank was placed with a water purifier attached to it. The school had a separate primary section for kids studying in classes of nursery, LKG and UKG. It was situated adjoining the halls, but no one from higher classes was permitted to go there. At the main entrance of the primary section a guard was always there to stop students of higher classes going there. But we found a back entry into the primary section which went through our dinning place (We also had a secret way to enter into the school building during the lunch time). After finishing the lunch we all went to the primary section through the secret way and there we drank water from the water tank in which water purifier was attached (we did this because apart from this one we trusted no other water purifier in the school which were broken most of the time). The brand of the plastic water tank was ‘Sarita’ nobody among us had ever heard that brand before. Because of the peculiarity of the brand name that place became to be known as ‘Sarita ki tanki’. It was another thing which was limited to our access only and symbolized us. So one day while drinking water from there I suddenly had an illumination.

“You know what, it is very unique” I said

“What is unique?” asked Ankur

“The name of the manufacturer. Sarita. Have you ever heard a water tank brand with that name?” I questioned them.

“Yeah we know that. What’s new in it? What is there that you find it that amazing?” asked Vishal.

“No we must do something with this, like make a ritual of some sort. What I propose every time before drinking water from here we will say Yo Sarita” I made my suggestion. I know it will sound weird and silly but it was a figment of my fantasy at that time. Initially the proposal was not received very well. Rest of them laughed and made fun but gradually it sank in. Sometime just for fun somebody would say Yo Sarita before drinking water and then everybody laughed, I was also making fun my silliness that brought about this slogan. Slowly but surely we started using it. Sarita ki tanki slowly became a regular spot.

During my school time, especially till class 10^th, I had a flare for being on leave. Hardly went a week when I came to the school on all 6 days. My average per week was 4 days of school and 2 days of leave. It was another day when I was on leave. My friends had finished their lunch and went to Sarita ki tanki. After quenching the thirst they were coming back. On the way back one of our seniors Manpreet Singh Sond was sitting there with his girlfriend in a corner of the passage between the halls. Vishal was shouting something and suddenly he cried out the slogan, the water ritual Yo Sarita, as they were passing by Sond. You may say it coincidence or you may say it a bad luck, the name of his girlfriend was also SARITA.

Manpreet Singh Sond had a reputation of a crack head. He was a prominent figure in the school and everybody was intimidated with him. He was the DADA of the school. As soon as he heard that he got up in fury (I wished I was there) and came up to Vishal.

“What? You think you are very smart? Haan?” he asked angrily. “You know with whom you are messing?” he was boiling. Vishal and rest of the guys were clueless what had happened. “Why were you shouting my girlfriend’s name like this? You think you will get away?” He asked Vishal. Now things started to clear up a bit, his girlfriend was also Sarita and so was the water tank. Somebody from the guys tried to clear up the confusion but he was not buying it. As I was not there, so I cannot surely tell, but what everybody else said that Vishal was beaten up by Sond. Although Vishal refused that he was beaten up and maintained the statement that he only held Vishal’s hand and twisted it. Anyways fortunately or unfortunately lunch was over and Sond left Vishal for the next day asking him to meet him on the ground.

Next day I came to school unaware of the happenings of the previous day. Vishal was not there. “Where is Vishal?” I asked. “He will not come” answered Arvind in a strange manner. “Why?” I inquired as it was only me who went on a leave without any reason. “Sarita” answered Pradumn “Sarita?” I was confused. “Yes, because of our Sarita ki tanki” added Ankur. They explained me the whole incident and we all were laughing for the whole day. That day during the lunch time Sond did come with his friends on the ground. We tried to explain him the whole situation and tried to clarify, this time he was bit calm and took in what we said. We had to take him to the spot to prove that there is a brand of water tank named Sarita. For next three days Vishal didn’t come to school and nobody ever mentioned the name Sarita, at least not when we had other guys around.

The GHPS Chronicles

The Gift

I completed my high school from Guru Harkishan Public School, Indore. As with everyone, high school accounts for lots of interesting and memorable events. Some of those moments remain with you for a life time and when ever you meet your old pals those are the things that you remember and laugh about. This is one such narration.

 

It was another day in the school. We were in Class 11^th. As always we had to go for the morning assembly, which was long and seemed boring (now even that boring assembly seems dear to you). Anyhow we tried to skip it. This year in school was different. My friend Arvind Kothari was the Vice head boy of the school. One of his duties was to go into each classroom and ask the monitor to take the students to the assembly and also checking no one remains behind in the classes. This meant he must skip assembly so that he can make sure nobody stays back. I being a close friend always helped him and this was the duty anyone would like to share. Although I was nowhere in the school parliament that year but I accompanied him in his morning duty and every other duty that needed an absence from the class.

 

Arvind was (still is) an influential figure in the school. Never went an year when he didn’t top the class and no body, not even the principal questioned his supremacy. Everyone was sure that he will do something big and so he did. Presently in IIT-K he is in final year of his M.Tech (Integrated) and has done numerous activities, some of which I am aware and some of not, in the IIT. So, he was my best pal in the school. Apart from being a brainy he had a lighter side to too. He was always good at playing pranks and what we call in Hindi Mazze lene me he was brilliant (But he was never good at the receiving end of the pranks and still isn’t. although he may not admit this and go on disagreeing).

 

So it was assembly time and we stayed back as usual. We were waiting for Gauraw Paliwal. He was the third one, completed the trio. He had came a year or so ago from the town of Kharguan.  He is the kind of a person who never thinks a thing bad. He is absolutely guileless. There is no vice at all in him, any one can come and take undue advantage of him. He is like a hermit, and followed the three principles of Gandhi (I don’t think they need a mention here). And surprisingly his birthday is on december 25th. He used to come late as he stayed at Gitabahvan which was far from the school.

That morning Arvind and me were sitting in the class as he entered. He had an interesting incident to tell from the last night. It was about Ankur Mathur. Ankur mathur another figure in the class. I am sure most of the classmates wouldn’t even noticed his existence (except girls). He was very varying in his character. You can call him wishy-washy. He was found of girls, all boys are, but his was a different case. All the time he used to roam around the girls wagging his tail. Girls were clever they knew he would do what ever they ask for. So, they used him as a servant. He used to bring them the reagents in chemistry lab, used to perform experiments in physics lab and sometimes even carry their bags. He was also in Biology stream and so was Gauraw.

So, last night he came to Gauraw’s house, he lived near by, to give Gauraw something. Ankur was not coming to school the next day and it was birthday of a classmate (a girl), whom Ankur wanted to give a gift. Let’s call her Rewa (changed name). Ankur was not coming because he had to go somewhere with his father. He considered Rewa a good friend, although the case was not same with her. She was a Punjabi Girl in section A of class and was also in biology stream. She was what I think, a bit conservative and most girls are, especially in school. Ankur came up to Gauraw and gave him a small box wrapped in beautiful pink and purple gift paper to give it Rewa. As I have written earlier Gauraw was a noble soul. He never saw any wrong in anything. Without thinking he agreed to do the job. He talked rarely to girls and that also was limited to studies. On asking, whether she knows about Ankur sending a gift for her, Ankur had told Gauraw that he has talked to Rewa about the gift and there will be no problem. In morning when the whole school was out for assembly the three of us were sitting and discussing what to do with the gift.

 

As soon as the assembly finished the students started coming back. Rewa also came she was happy as it was her birthday. Everyone was greeting her and then went Gauraw. Smelling some goof up me and Arvind were standing right there to see how he does it.

“Happy birthday Rewa” he said. “Oh thank you” she replied smiling. “Oh I have the gift with me” said Gauraw “Which gift?” asked Rewa with astonishment.

“The one that Ankur sent” Gauraw explained. “Didn’t he tell you about it?” he was also puzzled. “No please Gauraw, I am not interested in this.” She was agitated. She was angry and went away without listening to a word.

Arvind and I burst into laughter as Gauraw was misunderstood. He was baffled and was not expecting to be misunderstood to this extent. He was confused. “I knew something of this sort will happen” I said. “Oh thank you then why didn’t you tell me in the first place” Gauraw asked angrily “We would’ve missed the fun” I said with unsuccessful attempts to conceal my laugh. “You don’t have any brains? Why did you accept to do it?” asked Arvind. “I thought he and Rewa were good friends and she would have no problems” Gauraw clarified. “Firstly, if that was the case why didn’t you tell her that it is from Ankur” I inquired “You were there, you think she gave me time for that?” Gauraw retaliated “OK but don’t you know Ankur’s reputation among girls and what girls think of him. How on earth did you think that they were good friends” Arvind added. “I wonder what’s in that box.” I showed my curiosity. “Don’t even think of opening that box” said Gauraw snatching the box from my hands. He knew my intentions

“OK now what to do with the gift?” I asked. There was a mischief playing around in my mind. “What? Give it back to mathur” suggested Arvind. “OK, else we can just take it and keep it in Rewa’s bag. I mean why bother it’s her and Ankur’s matter. He asked Gauraw to give the gift and she refused, we can just put it there and when she will see it she will know that Ankur, not Gauraw has sent it.”  I tried to put my point. “I mean if we don’t give her the gift she will be in a wrong impression that Gauraw was maroing  chance on her.” I reinforced myself. It took Gauraw sometime to decide but Arvind agreed readily. He smelled the same scent that I smelled.

So it was final that we were going to keep that cursed packet in her bag as soon as we get a chance. She was in section A and we were in section B, so neither of us had slightest idea of her bag. But we had contacts. Amit and Akshat, the inseparables. When ever you see one of them be sure the other one is going to be around, never was a time that they went different ways. These days they were accompanied by Arvind’s cousin Akhilesh who had joined the school the same year. We had a great rapport with them, so I explained the situation and asked them to just signal which bag is hers, when the right time comes.

The most important thing was that we had to figure out the right time when she was not around. As the assembly had just ended, chaos ruled the school. Juniors stormed the corridors shouting, seniors stood outside the classes some talking with their friends others checking out the girls. This was the right time; Rewa was out with her friends. We entered the class, Amit signaled us where her bag was kept and before anyone could see I slide the gift inside her bag. Our job was done, Gauraw was happy that the box was gone. We came back and school went on as always.

Now as Gauraw was in Biology (and so was Rewa), he had to go to other classroom to attend Bio classes and we stayed back for math classes. Immediately after the class we had lunch. So, at lunch Gauraw came looking very depressed, sad and puzzled. “What happened” I asked. He looked up to me with an angry glare and then took out his lunch box. “c’mon tell us…” Arvind tried to share his grief “….who else will you tell” he said. “This, this rascal, scoundrel Rohan, all because of him” Gauraw shouted. I somewhat understood what had happened. But this was a direct attack on me “What? What have I done? Tell me” I retaliated with fury. “One thing is sure from now on I will never subscribe to his slippery schemes. You know what happened?” Now he was addressing Arvind “When I reached the lab (Biology lab, for classes) Modi madam (The Bio Teacher) was sitting there with the gift on the table, immediately I knew it was my biggest mistake to agree to his scheme” He said pointing at me. “She asked me what is this Gauraw? We thought you were a sincere student and came here to study. Did you come to school to do this? You have disappointed us. When she refused to take it you kept it in her bag! How shameless you are? My god.. And Blah blah… I even said that it was sent by Ankur…” He stopped in between and shook his head looking down at the ground “What happened then?” I asked as I was gaining more and more interest in the incident as it neared the climax. Gauraw looked angrily at me “What do you expect?” he was furious “She said if it was from Ankur then why did you put it in her bag? You should’ve kept it and given it back to Ankur. Now I had no answers to this….” He was devastated as his reputation was the biggest thing for him. He was rebuked in front of the whole batch. “But you told us that this has to reach Rewa. And that is what I did.” I clarified my position. “I never said that” Gauraw went ballistic. Arvind was bursting into laughter and I couldn’t control it for long. It were 10 sec or so and Gauraw was into it too. “You know Modi Madam didn’t talk to me for the whole session” Gauraw said with a innocence of a child who comes complaining about his friends. “Don’t worry she will soon forget” I assured Gauraw. “We will clarify the whole thing with Rewa and ask her to tell this to Modi madam, she knows that it was from Mathur.” Suggested Arvind. And the same happened we had to make the situation clear to Rewa and then to Modi madam but in the end the matter was resolved.

And now whenever the three of us meet this is one incident nobody misses to mention

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बेतरतीब ख्याल 1

This is a collection of urdu poetry that sprang out of my mind at different times. I have collected them all and here i publish them

Ishq

इश्क़ वो भी फ़रमाते हैं पर यह वो हमसे कभी फ़रमाते नहीं,
कहलाये हम आशिक़ तो हैं पर माशूक़ वो कहलाते नहीं|

Kaun

अर्श में वो हैं ज़मी में वो हैं,
आफ़ताब में वो हैं, चांदनी में वो है,
ख़ुशी में वो हैं, गमी में वो हैं,
 ज़्यादती में वो हैं, कमी में वो हैं,
तपिश में वो हैं, नमी में वो हैं,
अब तो हम ही में वो है, अब तो हम ही में वो है|

Vaham

रहने दे थोड़ा वहम इस खुशफहमी  का ही है नतीजा, 
कि हम तेरे दर से आज भी गुज़रते हैं|

Mohur

वफ़ा से ऐतबार तो कबका उठ चूका था ऐ खुदा,
तुने तो बस उस पर अपनी मोहर लगा दी|

Zindagi

मुफलिसी में कट रही है जैसी भी है ज़िन्दगी
हमको तो ऐसी पसंद है जैसी भी हो ज़िन्दगी|

 

सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब ना किसी के दिल में है

Here i publish my own version of Sarfaroshi ki tamanna. This may seem a poem out of the movie ‘Gulaal’ but it is actually just an inspiration or what ever you may say. Decide for yourself. Although incomplete i couldnt wait to publish it

सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना  अब ना किसी के दिल में है,

दिल ढूँढता किसी फिक्रमंद को मज़मा-ऐ-कातिल में है|    

 

न रगों में है रवानी न लहू में इंक़लाब,
मर गए जो थे भगत सिंह मर गए जो थे सुभाष|

आज का नौजवाँ अश्फाक न बिस्मिल में है|
सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना  अब ना किसी के दिल में है|

 

छेद ही अब दिख रहे, पानी अब न रुक रहा,
हमको बस दौलत से मतलब डुबे कश्ती या जहां|
मौत अब तो  आनी आरजू-ऐ-साहिल में है| 

सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना  अब ना किसी के दिल में है|

 

कौम का कोई नहीं हर शक्स अब है अलहदा 
आलम-ऐ-खुदगर्जी देखे तो डर जाए वो ख़ुदा|

आबरू मुल्क की तवायफ़ गिदडो की महफ़िल में है|
सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना  अब ना किसी के दिल में है|

 

बारिश

आज बारिश हो रही है|  मैं दफ्तर के अंदर बैठ के देख रहा हूँ, और सोच रहा हूँ की क्या मेरे शहर में भी बारिश हो रही होगी| खुद को काफी देर रोकने के बाद बरसात के रुकते ही आखिरकार मैं बाहर आ ही गया|  बारिश के बाद मिट्टी से आने वाली खुशबु आज भी उतनी सुहानी लगती है जैसी की बचपन में लगती थी| बरसात के मौसम में शहर का रूप अलग ही हो जाया करता था| कीचड के कारण सड़क  पर चलना दूभर  हो जाया करता था|  सड़क के दोनों ओर मिट्टी पर नयी घास  उग आया करती थी| बारिश में हर चीज़ नयी होती थी नयी किताबें,  नए कपडे, नए जूते और कभी कभी नए दोस्त भी| और उस नए नए संसार में मन उल्लास से भर जाता था| 
                                                                           मुझे आज भी याद है जुलाई की नम सुबह को जब माँ जल्दी उठा कर, तैयार कर, टिफिन दे के स्कूल भेजती थी तो लगती था की कब मैं बड़ा होऊँगा और कब स्कूल से पीछा छुटेगा| आज भी हवा में वही नमी, वही खुशबु को महसूस करता हूँ, मगर अब सुबह न माँ उठती है न टिफिन मिलता है| ऑटो वाले भैया के आने का समय होता था तो लगता था की भगवान आज बारिश इतनी तेज़ हो की ऑटो आ ही न पाए|  और जब ऑटो आ जाता था तो मन यही कहता था की आज बरसात के कारण स्कूल की छुट्टी हो जाये| ऐसा नहीं था कि मुझे स्कूल जाना ज़रूरी था| मेरा चेहरा देख के माँ पूछ लिया करती थी कि आज जाना है या नहीं|  मैं मना कर दूं तो माँ मान जाती थी मगर मना करना मन को अच्छा नहीं लगता था|  और अब जब ऑफिस आने का समय नजदीक आता है तो जान सूख जाती है| बरसात के कारण दफ्तर की छुट्टी हो ऐसा तो असंभव ही है| जुलाई के महीने के दिनों में जब सुबह सुबह बादल नीले आसमान को घना काला और मटमैला बना देते थे तो क्लास में क्या चल रहा है यह तो ध्यान  ही नहीं रहता था, बस मन खिड़की से बाहर आसमान की और भटकता रहता था|
                                                                                                                                                                                                 हवा चलते ही आस पास लगे नीलगिरी बादल पेड़ झुमने लगे और कुछ देर के लिए मैं वापस वर्तमान में लौट आया|  बचपन में भी स्कूल में लगे यही पेड़ हवा के साथ ऐसे ही झूम जाया करते थे, और मैं खिड़की के पास बैठा इनका अक्स अपने चश्मों में देखा करता था| खाने की छुट्टी में स्कूल के आते में पुरानी पड़ी लकडियों पर उग आये कुकुरमुत्तो को इकठ्ठा करा करते थे और उन्ही लकडियों पर रहने वाले घोंगो को पकड़ कर उनकी दौड़ कराया करते थे| आज तो उन्ही कुकुरमुत्तो की बनी सब्जी ऑफिस के  कैंटीन में खाते हैं|
                                                                                                                         आसमान में एक बार बादल डेरा दाल दे तो समझो कई दिनों तक सूर्य देवता दर्शन नहीं देंगे| दिन भर बादल उमड़ घुमड़ कर गरजते रहते थे, मनो डरते हो की अब बरसे कि तब बरसे| ऐसे में स्कूल से वापस आ कर भी बाहर खेलने जाने कि इजाज़त तो मिलती ही नहीं थी| दादी हमेशा गर्म कपडे पहनने को बोलती रहती थी और मैं यहाँ वहाँ भागा करता था| शाम को अगर बारिश हो गयी तो पापा कि फरमाइश पर गर्मागर्म भजिये बन जाया करते थे| आगे वाले कमरे मैं खिड़की दिन पास बैठ कर गिरती बारिश को देखा करता था, धंटो तक| आँगन में पतरों पर से गिरने वाला पानी छोटे छोटे गड्ढ़े बना दिया करता था| उस गिरते पानी में अनगिनत कहानियाँ मन में बुन लेता था| आँगन में बहने वाला पानी नदी बन जाता था और पतंगे, चींटियाँ, मकोडे और कई कीडे उन कहानियों के किरदार|
                                                                                                                              बारिश के रुकते ही आँगन और पीछे के बाड़े  में दीवारों पर उग आये तरह तरह के पौधों को देखने निकल जाया करता था| उन पौधों में एक फली वाला पौधा हुआ करता था जिसकी फली पानी लगते ही ‘पट्ट’ कि आवाज़ से फुट जाती थी| उसे फोड़ने में जो मज़ा आता था वो आज ना किसी डिस्को में आता है, न किसी पब में| अगर बारिश अँधेरा होने तक नहीं थमती और मन फिर यही प्रार्थना करने लगता था कि भगवान् करे कि बारिश रात भर न थमे और सुबह स्कूल न जाना पड़े, यही सोचते सोचते नींद लग जाती थी| अगले दिन उठ कर फिर स्कूल और वही क्लास|
                                                                                                    लेकिन आज बारिश का होना न होना एक जैसा ही| एयर कन्डिंशन्ड ऑफिस में बैठ कर कंप्यूटर पर उंगलियाँ चलाने का बसात से क्या सम्बन्ध| हल्की हल्की बूंदा-बंदी फिर से शुरू हो गयी है| और अन्दर दफ्तर में मेरा काम इंतजार कर रहा है| यहाँ तो कोई नहीं पूछेगा कि आज काम करना है या नहीं| अन्दर आते आते मैं सोचने लगा कि क्या मेरे शहर में आज भी वैसी ही बारिश होती होगी?  शायद……..|

वीर

कौन है जो आगे आये?
कौन अपना सर कटाए?
ऐसा कोई वीर है यहाँ कहाँ?

वीर की वसुंधरा,
तू क्यों खडा डरा-डरा?
आगे बढ़ तू आज अपनी जीत कर|

पुकार है यह युद्घ की,
धरा तेरी अशुद्ध की,
ऐसे दुश्मनों का आज अंत कर|

अश्व अस्त्र गज से युक्त,
 तू सारे बन्धनों से मुक्त,,
 साथ तेरे सर्वशक्तिमान है| 

म्रत्यु जब न अंत है,
किसका फिर आतंक है?
सर्वस्व आपना आज दे लड़ा|

खड़ी जो उसकी फौज हो,
प्रचंड तेरी ओज हो,
सनसनी लहू में उसके भर तू दे|

खडग  कटार बाँण से,
तू जैसे भी हो प्राण ले,
वीर तू तभी तो कहलायेगा|

शीश उसका काट तू,
तन को उसके बाँट तू,
युद्घभूमि में रक्त रस बहे|

अंग अंग भंग हो,
न साथी कोई संग हो,
अपने दुश्मनों का ऐसा नाश कर|

जो तर  गया सो जीत है’
जो मर गया तो रीत है,
वीर को सदा जग है पूजता|
 

Demerits of Deforestation

The trees were talking “Everybody knows the demerits of deforestation.
the laws should be strict we must talk to the legislation”

Earlier the loggers used axes and saws,
but now they use explosives, breaking the laws.

“Its effective and fast” said the logger’s leader
“We achieve our objective, earlier the better”

“we must do something by ourselves” said the braver one
rest of the trees disagreed “we are trees, can do nothing, can’t even run”

Nobody listened. He was the one standing last
Blast after blast, only regreting on what happened in past.

and atlast his time came too, he was too old to resist now
it would have been different if they all would’ve acted. but how?

Love or Death – end note

dry river Khuj

top platform at the top the tower at Nageshwar

a tree in Bet

the temple at bet

gates of temple complex at bet

gaht at the other side of bet

Trees at the farm

Explanatory note

If the ending confused you then following explanation will be helpful. ‘Love is death’ if one has a cursory view over this it seems as a foolish thought. If you die then what will you love? But there are deeper meanings to it. Not one but many. Two of them have been incorporated here. The first meaning is that when you love someone truly your own identity perishes. Your ego, your arrogance goes away. You surrender completely to the one you love. You surrender to such an extent that you become he or she. That was what happened to the girl. The boy was confused with this concept but the girl dissolved her identity in the boy’s. So in a way she is the personification of this very concept. When it is said that she turned into the boy, it means she was absorbed by her love towards the boy and finally lost her identity.
The second meaning is much more spiritual. The most divine love exists between the soul and the creator. Death is the divine confluence of the almighty and our soul. The true aim of love is realised at the time of death when the soul disappears into the most powerful force in the universe. This concept is personified through the boy who does not understand the way of the world and has few attachments to this perishable world, just like the soul. When he dies he realises the true aim of his existence and that’s why he is not sad. He also states about passing away to the one you love, it’s no one but God.
Also the tendency of humans to classify things is proved vain, as the boy says that death is not a sad affair at all, what it is considered usually. All the feelings are relative, what matters is the reference we take.
I have made all the efforts to make the message clear at the same time preserving the mysterious treatment of the story. Hope you enjoyed it.

Answers

Rahul asked me that what % of the story is true. So i tell you that all the places mentioned actually exist and my relation to them is also true. the girl and everything about her is fiction inspired from true charecters, the end is also imaginary. above i have given some pictures of the place. thank you

Love or Death – Part 4

We ran for about 10 minutes, but we never seemed to find our way back. The bells were now silent and we were exhausted. She had a mysterious smile on her face. “I told you we’ll have to stay here if we don’t catch this boat.” I explained in panic. “So let’s stay here. We’ll get back tomorrow morning.” She said with ease. “Well we don’t have any arrangement for shelter and do you know how cold it is going to get in the night.” I was irritated with her attitude. I knew how cold it would be. This was an island and due to the water all around us the wind gets colder than the mainland.
Finally we got out of the forest and the temple stood in front of us. I ran towards the river but the boat was long gone. I was agitated. Now what stood in front of me was the sight of a distant village where smoke rose from various houses, most of them lit by a single light bulbs. These were the homes of the poor fishermen. The reflection of the village in the river created a magical scene. I stood there; it looked like a huge painting of a brilliant painter.

“How beautiful it is.” She said. She was climbing down the slope. The atmosphere was so calm and peaceful, that all my panic and anger was gone. The wind blew through my hair. It was truly divine. The fishermen were moving in and out of their houses on the other side. They were involved in their daily works. We, on the other side of the river stood secluded from the outer world. There was no light on the island so they could not see us, but we could see them. It made me feel that how far we have come from this world yet how close we are to it. I turned to her “thank you.” I said. I realised that if it would not have been her we would have gone back.
The river was calm and placid. It reminded me of her eyes. As I looked into them I fond them to be a bit more damp then the usual. The water in her eyes moved and a small tear rolled onto her cheek. She ran towards me; I hugged her. It was soothing; it felt very light. I felt like…. My brain went dead I had no thoughts. There were just she and I. We stayed there for a while.

*******

“You asked me, ‘do I love you?’. I don’t know much about love but if this feeling that both of us share is love. Then yes I do love you.” I told her as we moved towards the temple complex. We decided to spend the night inside the temple near the altar. There were still some embers left in it, so it would provide some warmth. We lied on the temple floor and kept talking.
“You know when I was a kid, I was afraid to come to Bet after sunset. There were stories about ghosts roaming here.” We decided to restrain ourselves from any philosophical discussions. “Really? But we are in a temple now. I don’t think there is any reason to be afraid,” she said smiling. The naughtiness in her eyes was clearly visible. “When I was a kid my father used to tell me that we have a body and a soul but the ghosts have no bodies. So we are more powerful than them. This was enough of a reason for me for not getting afraid of ghosts.” I could easily make out from her face that she missed her childhood. “You love your father a lot, don’t you?” I asked though I was still not clear about love. “Yes, actually dad always teased mom that I love him more than I loved her.” Her eyes lit up as she said this. “What does he do?” I asked. “He runs a transport company.” She continued “he is my best friend.” She was in a different world now. “Do you know who my best friend is?” I asked. “I think I know. The trees at your farm aren’t they?” she guessed. Although they were among the best friends of mine, but there was some one else who was the best of them all. I took her outside and pointed towards the sky. She was puzzled. “Do you see that? Orion, he’s my best friend.” I said pointing to Orion, a constellation.
She was puzzled. “When I was a child I had very few friends. We had this big mansion in central Indore. There were lots of trees in our house. Many birds and animals dwelled on them; we even had a small pond full of fishes. The trees and plants, the birds and the squirrels, the fishes and the flowers were my friends. During the daytime I spent most of my time with them. But at night I was not allowed to go there. At night after I had my meals I used to go to the backyard and watch the stars. There were these three stars arranged in a line that I thought of as a stick. In class 5th or 6th I came to know it was the Orion’s belt. It was then when our friendship started. Few years from then, we left our house and moved into a flat. I lost all my friends. The trees were chopped down and eventually the creatures dwelling on them moved elsewhere. But the one friend that remained with me was Orion. The best part of our friendship is that he travels with me wherever I go. Apart from him I have the trees at the farm.” I went deep into my childhood, memories of leaving our home and separating from my friends came back to me.
“Each star in that constellation is so many light years away from each other.” She said with an explanatory tone. “Yes-yes, I know everything about Orion, even the mythological part of it. The Greek, Indian and the Chinese.” I said, after all we were the best pals. “In Chinese philosophy they believe in two principle forces of nature yin-yang.” She said. “Yes. Yin represents female force and yang represents the male.” I added. I had read about it somewhere I don’t remember. “There’s another explanation for it. Yin, which represents the feminine force, also represents the night. It is amazing the way you are fascinated by the night sky. Surely, you are attracted towards yin.” She was on to raillery me.
“One more thing, this may sound foolish to you. Listen, my initials are KR and yours are RK. So in a way we both are opposite and complementary to each other. Just like yin and yang.” She was sounding childish. “And this suggests that we both are made for each other.” I said jesting and both of us broke into laughter.

*******

We went inside the temple. Although the serene settings provided freshness to our minds, the bodies were experiencing fatigue. I fell asleep. A thought about everyone at home kept reoccurring to my mind. I realised how tensed they would be to find out that I was missing. And what about Mrs. Rajput? They might take a boatman and come looking for us here. I must go to they riverbank. As I opened my eyes to go to the bank I saw a face staring at me. It scared me; I was not able to recognize it. I thought of running but found that I could not get up. My body was paralysed, maybe due to fear. I felt the pumping of my heart in my ears. As I tried to gather all my energy to get up, the haziness due to the exhaustion was wiped away. My vision got cleared. I found that the face looking at me was none but hers. I breathed a sigh of relief. She was looking at me.

“What happened? You look terrified.” She asked me. I got up. The words were not coming out of my mouth. Her face was placid contrary to the excited one; her eyes were lit up contrary to the peaceful eyes, her hair…. Suddenly she started changing. Her face turned into that of a male. I knew to whom she turned into, it was me. I was scared to death. The chill in the air went through my spine. I ran, I ran into the woods. The leaves cracked beneath my feet. The branches bruised my arms. I was running; it was a moonlit night. After few minutes my body gave way and succumbed to the fatigue. I fell on the forest floor. I could not move. Blood was flowing through a dozens of holes, made by the thorns, all over my body.
What was it? Was it a ghost? Yes it was surely a ghost. It couldn’t be her. Suddenly a thought struck my mind; what about her? Where is she? I have to retreat for her. I laid there for a while trying to lift my ailing body and then I heard a cry. Somebody was calling my name; it was she. I ran towards the voice. It was coming from the bank. As I reached there I saw a silhouette standing there calling my name. I thought it was her, but when it turned I saw, it was not her. It was the other I. I was confused, terrified and devastated. I turned back to run. A cold sensation jabbed my left leg and then a sting.
It was black and long. The cobra venom kills in less than 12 seconds. Already I was on the ground. The other me came closer and the snake went into the bushes. He was crying; he sat besides me. And then I realised it wasn’t any ghost it was actually her who turned into me. Now I knew what she meant when she said ‘love is death’. Her words echoed in my mind.
It felt light, very light much like it did when she first hugged me. I could see my body lying on her lap. She was still crying. It took me some time to understand that I was dead. I was not feeling sad or mournful. For most of the people death of a loved one is a very painful experience, but what about the one who dies? If you ask me it is the most heavenly experience. It feels like a long lasting thirst is about to be quenched, an eternal quest is about to end. I will soon achieve my love. I felt fortunate, for who would be so fortunate to die in the hands of the one who loved you and to pass on to the one you love. If death is like this, I would like to die everyday.

She was still me and I was now nobody.