THE GIRL NEXT DOOR

      I went to another floor of the hostel. A new room. There was a girl who was a total chic. She always wore minimum clothes, had heavy busts flaunting all the time and talked in a rather quirky voice. I always found her shouting and laughing in top of her voice in the hostel corridor. She wasn't working and someone told she is a rich spoilt only child of some rich politician. But still, I never make an impression on people based on the looks or what people say. Because sometimes I find some people genuine and nice who are hated by the majority and tagged as 'bad' girl or boy. But yes, I found her irritating, specially her voice.

        As time passed, I talked with her a few times here and there on this and that, and she was ok. Unless she does no harm to me, I have no problem with her.

With time, I noticed she is always nice to everyone. She never complains or shouts unlike her room mate, who gets irritated and angry at each and everything. She always said a "hi" whenever she saw me and talked nicely. Yes, her voice was still irritating, but now when I got close, I actually listened to what she said and she talked sense.

With passing days, I started liking her. She had a positive vibe. She didn't work, was preparing for some exam. So usually she slept the whole day and in the evening she wore almost next to nothing, put on her best make up, all groomed and went out. If not, she would either sit in the TV room watching TV or chit chat with someone in the hostel or talked over the phone. Never had I seen her gloomy, angry, irritated or bitching.

I first liked her when I heard her saying to a girl, "Why do you sit alone and don't talk to anyone?" This girl was a thief and so everybody stayed away from her. As a result she too didnot approach anyone and stayed alone. I overheard the conversation and realised this chirpy girl is so good. The thief girl actually stole food from the fridge and things from everyone's room. And she talked to her so nicely.

When her roommate complained over anything and shouted, she was always calm and stood by her side, listening to her bullshit and trying to solve it. And always at the end, I saw her succeeding in making her roommate smile, either with a joke or otherwise.

She offered whatever she ate, to everyone present. And talked always lovingly to everyone. She had a different attitude to life. She ordered lots of things, dresses, books online, while she was not working. And every day she went partying with friends wearing new expensive clothes. Her lifestyle was different; she was 'living life to the fullest everyday' type.

One day, a Sunday, earthquake hit Delhi, when Nepal was the epicentre. Only we two were present in the whole hostel. We rushed downstairs and waited for long for a second one, as was predicted. And then we talked for the first time.

"Where are you from?" I started.

"Lucknow and Gorakhpur"

"Why two places?"

"Well my father lives in Gorakhpur and my Dadu lives in Lucknow"

I didn't enquire much; I thought maybe her mother lived with her dadu and her father lives away.

"And who else in the family?"

"I have a younger brother. Waise it's a joint family. So there are lot many people, cousins"

"It must be fun, right, especially while growing up?" I concluded the conversation as we went upstairs and then to our rooms.

Then we met again in the TV room, having lunch. We chit chatted again about Shahid Mira wedding and similar stuff. She talks positive. While talking I noticed a tattoo in her wrist to which she said "I will replace this with another one 'Dadu's princess', I have finalised." I smiled, "So your grandfather loves you a lot?"

"He is not my grandfather."

"Then?"

"He is my Uncle, my father's sister's husband."

"Oh......!" Kahani mein twist, I thought. I didnt enquire further.

"So your Uncle loves you a lot? ....Since the tattoo" I resumed.

"Yes, he is the one who had brought me up and never says no to anything. I am his jaan."

"So you live with your uncle?"

"Actually my aunt took me with her after my birth and so, I have always been closed to my Dadu"

"Oh......" I didn't understand.

"Why did your aunt took you?"

"Because she loved me a lot."

"Oh..........." confusing and vague reply it was, I thought.

"So your mother also stays with your aunt?" confused I was, but I questioned.

"No my mother died while giving birth to me. So my aunt took me with her."

"Oh, I m sorry...",
I felt bad, so to cover up, I resumed, 
"..Your uncle and aunt, you mean?"

"It's ok..... No my aunt married later. But she didn't let me go after marriage. Dadu too liked me"

"And your dad?"

"He married again right after my mother's death"

"And this brother?"

"He is dadu's son"

"So you must ne really close to your uncle and aunt?"

"My aunt died in 2010"

"Oh..."

So basically this lovely girl, she never met her mother, her dad remarried and lives away, her aunt adopted her but she too died after marriage and giving birth to a child, so her uncle is her everything in this world now, and thus "dadu's princess"

Her Uncle is quite old and has heart problems, is a rich industrialist and politician. She is the only one to take care of him and vice versa. The brother is young, still in school. And she has to manage the whole business when her uncle gets sick. No joint family members come to help. Her roomie said.

On mother's day, she uploaded an old b/w pic of her mother as her whatsapp profile pic. She looks just like her mother.

..................

I could understand the reason behind her happy go lucky nature. One, who gets everything, complains the most. But she already has lost everything, so maybe she knows the meaning and value of her life and how to live it.

After a few days, she went home, her Dadu was hospitalised. In a few days she left the hostel, her Dadu expired. And her whatsapp status after a few days was, "Now I have nothing to lose" I sighed seeing that.

But but...................I met her again, after a long gap and she is the same, eternally happy, cheerful, shouting. Wearing a skin tight fluorescent green sleeveless short dress, hairs done, hot pink lipstick adorned her lips, high heels and giving me a grin and a bear hug, asked "How are you, Pranamee? Long time"

Her roomie told me one day, when we were discussing her Dadu's death,

"Have you seen her ears? They are small. Even her mother and aunt had small ears. It is said, people who have small ears, die early. And she herself had told me that. She believes in that. So she is living each day"

I don't know about the ear funda but my prediction was right, she is living each day, actually.

.......................

We don't know when we are dying, so is it that which has stopped us from living life each day?

THE BOY IN PAIN

I joined a new hostel. The girls were as bossy as they could be. But amidst them, I saw a timid girl, always silent, and hardly was seen around. After almost a week, getting a little settled in the place, one day, I was cooking in the kitchen, when I saw that girl in the corridor. She had a dusky complexion, tall and slim, plain hair tied in a pony. She wore a blue t-shirt and grey track pants and was walking stealthily towards the bathroom which was adjacent to the kitchen. In a word, she was a 'simple' girl in her early twenties. She looked drowsy, as if she had just got out of bed, although it was 1:30pm by then. I looked at her, but she didn't make eye contact with me and slowly walked towards the bathroom. I continued cooking. After sometime I heard the toilet door open and again, silently, she walked back to her room. I looked at her and said, "Hi" with a smile. She almost surprised stopped and looked at me and smiled saying a timid, "hi". Her smile was so gentle and kind, I almost melted. I wanted to know more about her, and the ever curious me started questioning her.

"Do you stay here? I mean which room?" I smiled in her way, gentle and kind.

"This....!" she pointed towards her room, smiling.

"Oh, I haven't seen you much", I continued.

She just smiled.

I got it, she is the kind who spoke less and so I continued my never ending questions. I don't know why I have always so many questions.

Anyways, I asked, "I am new here, just a week old......... The last one, there, that's my room."

"Ok" she replied.

"Don't you have office today? I haven't joined any office yet, so I am here." I asked and at the same time clarified my reason for staying there at the odd hour.

"No, I don't work, I am studying."

"What?"

"C.A,"

"Oh, that's good....but in that case, don't you have classes now?"

"Oh no, today we have an off."

"Ok"

She was standing there, smiling.

"Ok, you can go" I said, as if she was asking my permission to go.

She nodded her head, again with a smile and went, silently.

 I usually find interest in all types of people but this kind, timid and silent and humble are actually very rare to find now a days that too in Delhi and so she caught my attention so much. I feel somehow good when I see such simple people. Maybe because that breed is so rare.

Days passed. I hardly saw her and the other girls were so loud that I actually forgot that she actually existed. Again, one day, I was in the kitchen, in the evening, and I saw her. Same way, coming to the bathroom, silently with her head down. I said again, "hi". She looked up and again that smile. This time she spoke, "Oh, I didn't notice it was you."

Oh my my, she is so sweet and humble. I instantly had a liking for her.

"How are you?" I smiled her way and asked. I felt, again, so good.

"Good, aap batao, kaise ho?"

"Good, actually no, there's so much problem with my room, there was no airtel signal....." and I narrated her all the problems I had in my room and she listened sincerely. And oh, she talked, but in her own subtle way. She said many things, tried to solve some of my problems and actually revealed some secrets about the place, the landlady, the maid and other girls. She was normal but yes, she had this calm demeanour always. And her smile was always glued to her lips.

One day, my laptop wasn't working and I had to transfer some data. I saw lights in her room and knocked and asked if she could help. And she welcomed me with her usual smile. She made me sit comfortably and handed me her laptop. While the data were being transferred, we chit chatted. She had a fridge and a TV in her room and two beds, all messed up, I would say. While talking, she mentioned she had an elder married sister and a brother.

I asked about her sister and bro in law and where she lived, and she replied. Then her brother, if he was elder or younger to her, to which she became a little hesitant to answer and changed the topic. After sometime, again when her family was mentioned, I asked again,

"Is your brother elder or younger to you?" I just have this habit to have a picture in my mind about her family. That way, I find it good to talk.

Her smile faded and she looked aside. I was still waiting for her answer. "Ha?"

"Older", she said silently.

"Oh, what does he do? Working or studying?" My picture wasn't clear yet and hence my questions continued.

She didn't reply and looked at the TV.

And we started to talk about the serial being aired at that time.

After sometime, I looked at the laptop, the data were still moving slowly from its original folder to its destination folder. It said, 2 hours remaining. The girl was nice but not interesting to talk with. So I was a bit bored. Seeing 2 hours remaining, I again started talking, "So, how often you go home?"

"Very often, I just came back last week. Went for 10 days"

"Oh ...ok"

"So do your parents live alone? Since your sister is married, or your brother lives with them? "

"My brother lives with them."

"Oh, is he working or studying?" Again I asked.

"Actually my brother is handicapped", she replied quickly.

It was an unexpected answer for me.

"Oh ...like how?" I asked after a pause.

She was preparing how to put her words, when I tried to help her asking, "Mentally or physically" the weird me.

"Oh no no, mentally he is fine, physically."

"Oh...........physically how?" I felt very bad knowing it but wanted to know more.

"He is bed ridden."

"Like? Why don't you give him a wheel chair?"

And she explained. "He had been in bed since he was 12 years old. He is 28 now. He can't even move, and is in the same position since 15-16 years."   

"Why don't you guys help him move?"

"He shouts even if someone touches him. He can't even take the touch of my thumb. If I even gently try to touch him with a finger, he shouts." she said pushing her finger slightly against my hand, showing he couldn't even take that touch, it pains.

"Why?"

"Since he hasn't moved for years, there's no blood circulation in his body, for years. So"

I was shocked, "Then like how...? I mean......" I couldn't express what I wanted to ask, I could actually feel his pain. Such a human actually is surviving since 28 years and his real sister is in front of me.

"Eating? He does in bed?" I asked.

"Yes, my mother feeds him, liquid generally. A permanent nurse is also there"

"And toilet and stuff? Must be in bed pane..... But isn't it painful?" I immersed into the situation.

  "He hardly does all that, once a day, maybe. The system inside has slowed down. The doctors surrendered log back. It's my parents, who still hopes and trying everything possible for him. I went home for his operation. "

"How can he go through an operation in that condition?"  I could literally feel the pain.

"Yes, I know, we all said that. Even the doctors but my parents hoped maybe that would bring some improvement."

"Oh- my- God!"

"And does he talk normally?"

"Yes, not like a 28 year old but say a 7-8 years old maybe. He knows the TV channels, serials, sports", she smiled lovingly, but a tired smile.

I wondered what TV channel a guy with that level of pain would enjoy. What a painful life that poor kid is going through. Hell might be better than this.

I just looked at her and wondered, every day might be so painful for the family too, seeing their brother and son in so much pain. I couldn't speak for some time and she was too sitting still, lost in herself. I gave a heavy sigh, so did she.

"Is it by birth?"

"No, he was born normal but had pneumonia after birth for a long duration. When recovered he was normal but had problem in his legs. He couldn't walk properly. But my dad oiled his legs everyday and tried all ways to make him walk. And you know, by 5-6 years, he was able to walk too, he even went to a school." her eyes glittered when saying this. "But then again he fell ill and got bed ridden and couldn't recover after that."

"Oh dear......" I felt like crying. So painful it was.

She showed me the black granite top of the table and told, "His body has become black like this, due to blood clot"

I couldn't say anything more. I came out of the room after some silence. Patted her on her shoulder and asked if she had eaten anything and wanted some biscuits to eat, to which she smiled. I couldn't think of anything else to say. I felt so helpless knowing the story.

.................

How we always grumble about petty things in life, complain all the time, whenever I remember this story, a boy is living in so much pain and his family is seeing him in so much pain every day, I just......!

11. TEMPLE FOR FOOD

 

(For all the non Delhiites, who has no family in Delhi, craving for home made food, specially big pieces of fish and gravy and tasty mutton, home made style, this is for you)


Many many years ago, in Delhi... 

I don’t get food in my PG, not even a single meal. I survived on dabbawalahs all these months and street food like momos, chaats, bread omelettes and expensive restaurants on weekends, but that food style lead me to hospital, I had dengue and typhoid simultaneously and was hospitalised for 11days and took long unpaid leaves before and after hospitalising. I had to take antibiotics every 4hours else I would shiver severely and I was almost sure I wouldn’t survive. And all I wanted from God at that time was to become normal again. That was a terror phase of my life. I had to return home and be another terror for my family.

Now I am back in Delhi and in the same hostel without food. So what do I do?

Of course, I don't take dabbas (tiffin meal) again. I somehow pleaded the landowner, by all possible ways (emotional blackmail, threat, stern, sad, polite, sweet) ways and finally he was convinced that I should be allowed to cook in his kitchen (a kitchen provided for the caretaker and his family) for at least a month or he would go to hell after death and burn in fire for not helping this poor little girl.

Ok, I cooked for a month and quite a lavish cooking it was……….I dedicatedly dedicated almost one and a half hour in the kitchen everyday and cooked for the day and I really made some yummy recipes. But after one month the villain in my happy movie entered, the uncivilized, uneducated, heartless, damn caretaker. He was in his ‘des’ (village) all these months. In the absence of the landowner, he was the self proclaimed owner of the place. The landowner lived away from this place, so he had hired this caretaker since like over 20years. The ‘paying guest’ building , which was originally a mini hospital, was three storied, and all the rooms in all the floors were rented as ‘pg’ including the ground floor which had two rooms for rent and one room where the caretaker and his family lived. And this caretaker behaved as if he owned the whole ground floor, right from the entry gate, small verandah, tv area, sofas, fridge (2 of them), the backyard, the old but ‘still working’ washing machine and the kitchen. So seeing me in his territory, in his kitchen, he was all fuming. I lived in a single seater in the ground floor. I could literally feel some hot air around me when he passed by ....!


So he stopped my cooking the day it turned one month. I had a heated argument with him. Allowing me to use the kitchen for max. 2 hours in a day, would have done him no harm. (I brought my own vegetables, my own masalas, salt, even my own utensils. And didnt take more than two hours to cook). But he was adamant. 

So after a few hours of cursing him and crying over my destiny, I looked out for more options. Necessity is the mother of invention, I found out a place, a temple that provided food (breakfast / lunch/ dinner) for the people who stayed in the guest houses in the temple premises. The food is good, it’s like a hostel mess, a big dining hall with plastic tables and chairs, no ac, many doors and windows with abundant cross ventilation and overlooking well mowed, trimmed, green turfs. The kitchen was adjoining the hall and could be accesed and seen from the hall. So what, who, how cooking is done, was visible. And the kitchen was quite clean and the temple effect/feel had made it cleaner, I suppose. Anyways, my mind worked at its fastest pace to plan out how to make it a success. I turned to my room mate with the idea. My roomie was a clean and sweet girl, (clean - the way Meryl Streep described her husband in ‘the bridges of madison county’). She was the 'mummy papa’s dear, nice daughter type girl' in this 21st century. Pure vegetarian, helpful, wore salwar suit, with the duppatta serving its purpose always, no make up, not even kajal, no hairstyle, rough hair with a thick plait. She is the sweetest girl I had met in this century and meeting her made me believe that God was sometimes good to me. She never see, hear, and say bad things, words and always on ‘may I help you?’ mode. I found her so sweet. But, never imagined, she could also be a,…eh.. problem?? Yes, she was a vegetarian and the temple mess served non veg food also. So she assumed they made the food in the same utensils and she would die hungry than eating food made of the utensils where non veg food was also cooked. Now my next mission was how to convince her that this was a myth.
I told her, "lets go and ask them straight if they make everything in the same utensils and clear the problem."
She agreed. (She also didn’t like the dabba food ) 
We asked and she actually went inside the kitchen and investigated and came out, much to my relief, knowing that no, they prepared both veg and non veg in different utensils. So she agreed to go with me to dinner in the mandir. Well, you must be wondering why do I need a company to go there. Well, it being a guest house, the crowd wasnt that good and they serve dinner at 9pm, which is the tym no good for a girl to walk alone in the streets and then to a place where theres men and men all around (although it’s a temple it’s a temple in DELHI after all.)

The food was good.

The menu is in a meal, a thali, they serve:

Rice (there's second serving, if you are new else you have to keep on shouting and they mite not attend)

Dal (there's second serving, if you are new and pretty and smiled when he served at the beginning)

one sabji (a seasonal vegetable mixed sabji)

fish curry(one BIG fish piece that will bring a smile to your face, generally rohu but it keeps on changing and not thick gravy, its more homestyle)

or mutton on Sunday dinner (min 3 pieces of mutton, and not thick gravy, homestyle) you need to go early and be among the first few eaters else it gets finished.

Tuesdays vegetarian. And sometimes egg thali. 

Otherwise this is the menu of lunch, dinner for the entire week. And per fish thali is 60 rupees and mutton thali is 90 rupees.

Since we became regular visitors, I made a deal with the cashier, who seems to be the manager. We used to have sabji and two or three rotis, as that was enough for dinner. So, we saved a few bucks and they were also pretty cool with the deal.

Sabji was charged 30 rupees and 3 rupees per chapati. We were happy with the 36rupees deal as the food was fresh cooked, hygienic and served hot.

So, basically for you people who are away from home and craving for home made simple food on a daily basis in delhi, this is a good destination I would say. There were loop holes ofcourse but you have to deal with it, nothing is perfect. Loop holes like you speak sweetly and nicely to the boys who serve you food at the beginning and they become the nightmare later, they would keep on staring at you from a distant while you are eating, you would bump into them in the market or other local shops since you stay in the same locality. But staying in delhi teaches you how to deal with all these, don’t worry. So I would suggest better go in a group of atleast two or speak in bengali to them, it actually helps!

N.B: And to know the further details you can contact me.


It was something like this,
yep both, the meal and the smile!