An open letter to Mr/Ms X

To

Mr / Ms /Madame X, Y and Z

Behind the counters

At the boutique, eateries,cinema halls, the kirana store,and pretty much anywhere behind any counter

Any place in the galaxy

Dear Mr / Ms /Madame X, Y and Z

I'm sure people do give you a hard time every time they visit you. I'm sure you feel like throwing glasses of water and mugs of anything you have in your hand every time you take an order. I'm also very confident you have an urge to strangle the vocal chords of the person who owns the voice which returned the "any"thing made by you, either to be changed, replaced or altered.

But hey, what were you expecting ? You didn't become a manager, tailor, developer, waiter, or any counter owner, waiting every person you cater to to heap accolades on you, did you? Specially when you have actually spoilt something awaited eagerly by the people foolish enough to believe in you? Not that you are bestowing some kind of favour on the people. You also charge exuberant sums to do it on time and people actually schedule visits to accommodate your convenience, They take pains to be nice and cordial, because i doubt they want to end up with burnt cheeks, in more ways than you think. Or a dress tucked with safety pins at your D-day.Make no mistake, you are up-above in the same list as the gods because you create, or destroy us with a click of your fingers.

And because you know it, you just act as if you own the world.

Which probably you do . But do not make mistake sirs: not the dignity of the people. No reason, which includes a bad hair day, a fight with your wife, a mother-in-law at home or PMS, gives you the right to behave haughtily or arrogantly. People go to you to get a work done. No they do not want to build relationships with you unlike what you guys claim. You might put up hoarding saying you value customer relation but i guess the small writing on it says "* conditions apply".

No, i don't want a bleach on my face because i'm allergic to all kinds of chemicals even though you swear it will make me beautiful. No, i don't want extra toppings on my anything or coffee with milk which comes from the machine and carries a price tag of forty rupees only because you are "Pizza Hut" . I did want Paprika though, at least the name of the shop where you got it from. But "Dear Manager" had an attitude but no "right" to go with it. No , i don't want to know what happened to the server but only want our website which should have been done in 15 days but has taken more than 6 months and still is no where near completion. No i don't want to wear the design you made with my khadi just because it is in but only the design i gave you. And i specially want none of it when it comes with dollops of attitude, when you don't take instructions given to you and behave as if it is people's mistake. I might be too mild to show it but just don't take it too far. The next time you might not be too lucky and the next time it might not be a blog.

eetz gold eear!!!!

Nah..no one's got a "gold" ear..It's the freaking cold around this part of the world..My throat's croaking like Vikram Seth's frog, there are two perennial riverlets running down from the viscinity of my nose..Don't know if it's still there because i can't smell anything anymore...It was so sore a few days back from wiping that i've stopped feeling it anymore..also realised i had fever sometime in the past few days but not very sure when..The realisation deemed only when i had one of those fever blisters on my lips..My feet have forgotton what heat was..Even though i try to keep them in thick socks..nothing changes except the number of clothing i put on..My vocal chords have gone for a yuvi brand six and my voice has become permanently husky..I'm also not very sure if i'm ever going to get back my voice.

The north India is freezing as is some people's blood.. The news say it'll be like this till february second week. I can't help but think about the people who live on streets, the kids who have no place to call home except the platforms and footpaths. And the millions of others who don't have a good fire or a proper roof on their heads. Who was that guy screaming about the water heater not working and the AC not heating up properly?

I wish all those people without any shelter have a better year and the warmth of some good people around to help them fight the this biting cold.

I'm feeling cold. From what, i don't know. Brr...why can't i do something ?

I have a good feeling..

I live by my gut feelings and intuitions. And this year i really have a good feeling about it.

Last year started on the wrong foot and the whole year was a follow up on that.

On the political front , it was literally bang bang bang..from Kashmir to Ram Sethu, from Gujjars of Rajasthan and Gujjus of Modi's Gujurat to burning Mizoram and tense Guwahati, from twin blasts in Lucknow and Hyderabad to the Nondigram and Prashant Tamang. The last audible bang was with which went forever one of the most charismatic women leaders of this era. I realised in the game of politics, the game is more important for the powerful, the powerless and the powers that were than running a polity itself. I realised the US can play the big bully till the moment we gather the guts to fight it. That also needs courage and conviction which somehow has become as rare as the white gibbon but soon can become a dodo if we don't start looking for it now.But no one had in their dreams imagined India and somewhat China, the market-led-capitalist communist country , if there was any, go shooting in the international arena, past all speculations and predictions of the "futurists". Didn't the sensex have a bull-run past all expectations?But we still had the stories of poverty and unemployment, but that was totally behind the scenes. Until we realise that our concepts of development need to change, you know where we can all end up.

On the other fronts, i lost that unflinching devotion to the Big B and SLB. There was the break up of Shahid-Kareena which made me sad because they made such a great pair and surprise hits in "Jab We Met" (just to rub in the irony, i guess) and "Chak De" and not-so-surprising flop in Sad-wariya. I realised we have some very good copy cats and the originals are only appreciated after they shun appreciation of all kinds. Also a few had imagined India , the written-off underdogs to be the world-champs in the fast food form of cricket.I still remember my friends' incredulity who had put up a bet where i was the only one scooting for India. The 'Chak De India" factor went beyond cricket for a change and hockey and footfall with sprinkles of tennis, chess,shooting and badminton thrown in, had their fare share at the India's hall of fame.

On the homestead there were blasts of a different kind. My family didn't give me a moment's peace and the only thing on their agenda was to see me married and sent off to that unknown land- lock, stock and god knows how many smoking and fuming barrels..Thankfully, i evaded all those. But just about it.

On the professional front, we overcame a lot of hurdles, some which we had anticipated and some just materialised at the most unlikely of places. We also graduated from the small hut which we were running as a school to our own building.We changed the entire look and feel of the office and shifted our strategy and involvement to more of lobby and advocacy and increased importance on the basic human rights.We started a lot of projects and wound up a few more..Eventful and still going strong.I became much more laid back and a stronger person.

On my personal front, it was mayhem as well. I consciously took a lot of decisions which hurt me initially but on the hindsight, i'm proud to have made them. I cut the threads of a lot of connections which had become umbilical. The severing was painful and yet very necessary for life to go on. I learned a few lessons and revised some more. I realised that my family is very important to me and i can be a lioness with her cubs when it comes to them. I realised i can do my best to make a relationship work and bear the hurt and pain to the point impossible. But once i call it quits there is no looking back. Don't know what kind that makes me but i am not bothered about it as you know, more confident than i already was, more a loner than ever. A lot happier and a shape of the road just visible. And the road was never very important for me , neither is it now. My god played elusive too or maybe it was me. The journey still continues and deep inside, i'm still questioning a lot of things in me and my world..i realised the only constant variable in life is change.

And another year on the calender has changed.

Another thing that has changed is my feeling about it. I really feel good. My instincts tell me this will be a good year. For all of us.

Have a great year ahead..

and once more..Make a difference, be the change and lead by example..The best of everything for everyone.

Humans no more!!!

We are no better than the animals..No, let's not even insult them by comparing them to us..Atleast they don't kill their own..not like we do..To satisfy the needs of power and superiority, we have stooped to levels noone knew existed..In the name of religion , of filthy politics, of fundamentalism of every subject imaginable except the basic fundamentals of life itself...for what reason? to achieve what end?

We have lost it..No, not the brains..So all you scientists can sit back..We have taken leaps and bounds in improving skills and knowledge and knowhow..to what? i'm not really sure..

What we have lost is what gave us our identity some ages back..the thing called "humanity"...

Remember?

The stepping stones...

I'm tired.And blissfully so.

The last time i climbed those hills was when i was still young and a few kilos less.And that was when i was still running and exercising and would never tire.Now it's a totally different story.

Anyways that isn't what this is about.

It was a trip planned for Virag and Joseph.It's a pleasure showing them around. When there's a pair of new eyes that see your country, your villages and your small world, it's like looking at all of it for the first time for you too.

After a week long 'Perspective Building Workshop" we went over to our school.After we hand painted a five hundred and a few more cards with those tiny palms and were all coloured in bright colours - pink,red, yellow, orange, blue and green, off we went strutting to the Juang village near the school and spent some lovely quiet hours just sitting at the porch of those lovely huts of the even lovelier Juang people..getting drenched it moonlight and finding our way back through the narrow lanes of the village with just that light above..It was lovely..the bright moon..the village and the people..The funniest part was when i asked the driver to switch off the lights and drive on our way back to Keonjhar after that nocturnal walk. I could sense he was totally apprehensive but what choice did the poor guy have? Once i realised he wasn't going more than a snail's pace with the lights switched off ,more so because he was scared than the real danger in it, i asked him to switch it back on..Ok there was no road that could be called one and was more a few small and big rocks piled on to give the impression..but haven't we been there zillion times already? i thought we could drive through those jungles blindfolded and there was this huge moon , almost full, shining down as if the sun had given it the power-of-attorney for a day..

If that was,'t tiring enough, i invited V and J to go on a trek..Sunday, a few friends, a hill beckoning and a trip that was begging to be taken since the stars appeared in the sky..

So there we were..all geared up, the water bottles and a heavy breakfast..Oh yes..really heavy..it being a Sunday and with J-2 and M also coming over, mom made those lovely idlis only she can make with that mean side dish of coconut and groundnut chutney , sambhar and pudina chutney to accompany.. All those who know me know that i'm a foodie but when it comes to south-indian food prepared at home-you won't find a worse sucker for it that yours truly.By the way J-2, weighing 35 kilos when you're already in your twenties and a waist size of twenty isn't really a thing to boast about..Please add a few kilos to that skeleton you carry everywhere before you vanish into thin air..The complex you give me is not to be mentioned either..And M, J and V asked me if R was your daughter..So you know what to do..

Oh..back to my track..er..trek..the ground rule when you go for a trek is never start with a full stomach..and mine was not only heavy but would have fallen off if i wasn't blessed with a flat one, not-genetically. As we started and had only walked about two kilometers i was panting like a dog..And we had still not reached the foot of the hills yet..

And guess what? Today being a Sunday and the week of picnics around this part of the world there were about a thousand people who had decided to chose our destination as their's too..The only difference was they came loaded in buses and jeeps and cars..and we were on foot..taking the road not taken..atleast not by the civilised folk....And we were stared at like we had just escaped from a zoo..Ok we made at unlikely team..two whites and one a shade of brown...But they could at least hide their incredulity till we passed them. I swear i had fight back the urge to go and put their tongues back safely to where they belonged and clip their lips more than a dozen of times..

We started on the trek through the winding footpath made since ages of travel by the people who live up in those hills. And we met quite a few of them..It was a rush today because of the weekly "haat" or market, which is where all the economics , sociology and history happened for all those people..And what took the cake was they had cattle accompanying them in those roads broad enough only to let one person pass at a time and filled with huge rocks and stones smoothed down with years of walking on them..it was quite slippery and a slip would mean a fall of quite a feet and at least a dozen broken bones and scratches..No..you wouldn't really die because the foliage is too thick and would break your fall..

The tribal people were far more decent than the "civilised" ones..There smiles were more genuine and curiosity more to know about the people rather than act "oh-i-see-foreigners-all-the-time-and-they-are-so-common" and ogle at them like it was just the opposite.

After walking for almost an hour through those meandering roads and gaining altitude with every step, we came upon the lake all of a sudden..It was breathtaking..in more ways than one..we were taking in air by gallons...and the view was magical..But that's about it..in the scene which ideally should have been accompanied by a soft rippling of water and the sound of the waterfall had about four different music systems bellowing at just below the 20 k decibels mark..and all those songs which made no sense at all..On second thoughts they did..but you'd have to have a knack for lewd double-meaning lyrics to understand them as well as a love for loud hammering that's a combination of hard metal and war drums..

When we reached the fall Joseph went into it like a fish which had been kept captive on land against his wishes..There he was..swimming and getting freezed in the water that made our feet numb..that's about the part of our bodies we managed to wet..

In the meanwhile we had visits from hundreds of the picnic-errs...staring at us as if that wasn't what they were really doing..Some overgrown teenagers beyond their teens did start to act smart, like most of them usually do..behaving worse than animals in jungles..making remarks that violate the basic rights of any human..that of dignity and respect..what with the social networking sites they virtually live in..they think everything goes...for them, it isn't real people and real feelings..i don't blame them either..It's what we get from too much exposure to all things western and yet not understanding where the rights of your freedom end and where you start encroaching the space of someone else..Seems stupid but they need to understand that watching almost naked women gyrating in music videos is one thing but expecting every woman to dress like that in real life is a different matter altogether..and all the while i was thinking about Virag who took pains to dress according to Indian sensibilities and her whole reason of coming to India was to find the inner beauty that we Indians supposedly are endowed with loads of..

As we came back there a bunch of students who came running for photographs..Virag and Joseph said they faced it all the while in India at tourist places where people wanted to take pictures with them..Joseph said he was really cool with hanging just above the fireplace as a prize certificate in the drawing rooms of the thousands of households..He also said he should actually start asking for money in return of pictures like every baba and shopkeeper did when he wanted one and save on a few rupees..

So..there..We came back through those hills..meeting those tribals again..some drunk beyond their senses and totally oblivious to the world and doing and saying things which had me in splits..and some did make sense..their anger against the civilised world which had the best of everything and yet never spared a thought about the elephants that ate their crops, the poverty they live in..oh let's forget that for a while..We also manage effectively to leave behind the plastic cups and bags and loads of garbage after we have had our picnic..for them to clean..It's their waterfall..their lake..but when have we ever spared a thought??

We were finally back..totally tired from the day of walking and climbing those hills..and those stones i stepped today were all worth the effort..because i learnt some things our books forget to teach...

Merry Chrismas!!!

Merry Chrismas..

:)

A chapter closed...

a chapter's closed
well..almost..

a year of memories
some to be cherished
and some forgotton
well..almost..

a fistful of friends
some gathered
and some gone forever
well..almost..

a few moments lived
to be sipped
alongwith that hot coffee
on a lazy afternoon
etched on the coffee mug
well..almost..

a chapter of experiences typed and set
to be printed in the life's press
someday someday
when all chapters are done
yes..all done...

"Mora silate naahin.."

The first time i met Putli was about two years back.

Seven years old then and already a bread winner of the family..She had one of those faces which hold you mesmerised for heaven knows what reason. Like the pull of an unseen magnet, like a moment already familiar before it actually happens.

I was on my field tour. After the regular monitoring and feedback sessions from the field functionaries were done and after i had visited a few households of that interior village in the hearts of the jungles and hills of Keonjhar i still had some time with me.

Like anyone in that place you too would have been captivated by the rawness of the beauty of those hills, the chilly winters, the villages with thatched houses, every household barely hiding a tale behind the broken walled the meticulously put up torn saree and every face, a hypnotizing story.

Putli was the eldest of the five siblings, two boys and three girls. Barely seven and her day started much before the day did. She would wake up before the break of dawn and clean her home and clean the dirty utensils from the day before. And some days there is also vomit to clean, the outcome of too much or too bad country liquor consumed by both her parents. Her parents work in the local mines and whatever earning they have gets over before they get home.

Putli's work for the day is then to gather firewood from the forests and finish her daily ablutions (if it can be called that. A leisurely munch at a twig, a rushed answer to nature's call and a quick dip in the dirty ice cold pond). After she comes back, she cooks the first and sometimes the last meal of the day. In between she also manages to fetch water from an open well which is about two kilometers away from her house. (The tubewell is lying broken since five days after it was dug up , which was more than two years ago). She then cleans her siblings and by then her parents are also ready to go off to the quarry. She then dishes out portions for everyone. Most of the days it is only rice and salt and some days they have a feast of a few tomatoes and potatoes boiled or toasted in the fire.

Her daily schedule after her parents are off to work is pretty much the same. She picks Mahua flowers (Mahula or Mahua is a flower which is used as a main constituent for fermentation of alcohol), dries them and meticulously carries them home.On one of my following visits, each sibling had a container-Putli ,the eldest, carrying a broken bucket of lubricant picked from somewhere, the one younger was carrying a cut out engine oil container, and it kept growing smaller till the youngest one was carrying a broken plastic mug. They were all picking up Mahua flowers. Just for record, the youngest one wasn't walking yet. Putli put him down under a Mahua tree and he picked all flowers he could lay hands on and filled his mug with glee, his prize for the day and his contribution for his share of rice.

If it isn't Mahua season, they pick Sal leaves. Or sometimes it is "Jhuna" or frankincense. And all these products are sold in the local weekly haat which fetches their weekly ration of rice and salt. The products they collect from the jungle change according to season but the routine doesn't. Except for the rainy season. During rains the younger ones mostly keep indoors and the elder ones work as labourers in the local rice fields.

These children have probably not worn a dress newly bought since ages, the ones they have are hand-me-downs, tattered and torn. During the winters an empty sack of potatoes bought for four rupees from the local shopkeeper doubles up as a blanket and a shawl depending on the time of the day. 

These children don't go to school though there is one at a stone's throw..

Our Government makes numerous policies and laws on providing compulsory primary education for every child, basic health and sanitation facility to every human being and no labour by children that somehow remains in the books of those who make the laws, never read or understood by the people it is meant for. 

This isn't only her story..There are millions like her..On one hand i know she'll never probably be able to read this but i have a hope that maybe someday her children will..or maybe her grand children.

Incedentally, 'Putli' is oriya can mean two things - a doll or a statue...

The first time i met her, i asked her.."Why don't you go to school..

She answered.."mora silate naahin.." { I don't have a slate }

My conversations with myself...

If you're looking for your ego to be massaged
please look elsewhere..
i don't even find time to massage mine
and sure as the sun in the sky
i suffer from a superiority complex
Big Time!!!

if you're trying to hurt me
a brilliant suggestion
spare the effort
i can only be hurt by people i love
and people i love
will do everything
to keep me away from it

if you are out to scare me..
it'll just be a funny little joke
my worst fears have come true
there's nothing left to fear

if you're trying to show off
and put on airs
i can do a better job
just that i find it's better
kept locked in an attic
or a basement
to be done in once in a while
if you really have the itch
with one person - yourself

if you think you're disappointed in me
sorry to to disappoint you again
i only returned the compliment..

if you think i'm rude
as far as i'm concerned-
Mission Accomplished

if you ever think i've hurt you
that's your life's biggest misconception
because i honestly accept
to hurt someone i love
is beyond my list of capabilities

Camera Rolling, ACTION!!!

So you thought it was easy to remember those lines you are supposed to say, look at the camera as if it was your best friend, be totally conscious not to look so, say the lines with the proper intonation and infliction and yet look as if you were born with a camera on you..

just change sides..

Invisible Weaver!!!

the days weave in and out of each other
promising a new design
at the end of every day
invisible hands of the weaver
make a pattern
some you can find
and chuckle
and say "That's Life"

And then the rest is still a puzzle
to be deciphered
only by the weaver who weaves
the designs not in any book
but all in his mastermind
all a part of the master's plan
and every piece spun out in unique

and days weave in and out
in the hands of the invisible weaver...

Know AIDS for No AIDS

Ok..that might seem a done to death line to you..but it still holds true..

World AIDS DAY-December 1

This post is for all people out there in the world who are living with HIV/AIDS.

This one time , i'll let the numbers do the speaking...;

Number of people living with HIV in 2007
Total 33.2 million [30.6–36.1 million]
Adults 30.8 million [28.2–33.6 million]
Women 15.4 million [13.9–16.6 million]
Children under 15 years 2.5 million [2.2–2.6 million]

People newly infected with HIV in 2007
Total 2.5 million [1.8–4.1 million]
Adults 2.1 million [1.4–3.6 million]
Children under 15 years 420 000 [350 000–540 000]

AIDS deaths in 2007
Total 2.1 million [1.9–2.4 million]
Adults 1.7 million [1.6–2.1 million]
Children under 15 years 330 000 [310 000–380 000]

And guess what? None of them invited the disease..

And there was only one cure : Awareness.

There are still a lot of myths and misconceptions attached to HIV/AIDS. And we can make a difference in only one way..Spread the awareness in as many people as we can..

What is worse is that now besides the disease the people living with AIDS have to face a worse scenario-That of the stigma and being ostracised by the society.

Let us help them live a healthy life and one filled with love and care.

Just for the record, try imagining a world without those 34 million people who are in every sphere of the society. They still have a lot to contribute to our world, socially, emotionally, economically and just as human beings.. Let's help them do it.

* data from UNAIDS-Dec 2007

Back to my childhood...

If you aren't from my school don't read further..most of it won't make any sense.. and then again..maybe it will..

And here it is for all the students of our school..

This was the longest time i was away from school..

Almost a year and a half.. and going back to the school you studied in, meeting the teachers who taught you your first lessons in life and re-living those moments is a feeling no words can aptly describe..

i started late because i was scared to meet the traffic..you know the roads..but i guess the powers above intervened because thankfully there wasn't any..but the roads are another story altogether..there are none..It is only a poor caricature of what it was and what it should be..NH-215 indeed..Don't really know if the government will ever realise how badly people are affected by the condition of the roads and the traffic that's brought the best school in Orissa on almost the verge of closing down..

From the moment i decided that i would go to school, every moment was nostalgic..the 20 kilometers to our school brought back memories of thousands of such days when we travelled to school..Some familiar landmarks are there no more and some new have cropped up..Yes..those hills are there to which we went trekking..those dark looming hills of magnetite sent me back dreaming of the races we had for the top..So much has changed..and some things..they're still the same..Just that now the race is different..

As i reached the 19 km milestone, it was again that feeling of deja-vu..the familiar eucalyptus trees..the canopy of the classrooms just about visible as if through a windscreen..And all of a sudden there it was..The board which said "GREENFIELD SCHOOL, PALASPANGA"..i totally forgot about those pictures i was supposed to click for all of you..but just in time..

I entered the school gate..yet again..and my eyes flooded with memories of the many other times i had already done so..with the uniform and pigtails..and mischief in every step..those days of carelessness, those moments of feeling just nothing..when the biggest problem was that you hadn't done your homework again and had forgotten to cut your nails..

When you enter school the first thing you see is Principal Sir's office..which we called the "Lion's Den"..and undoubtedly..that was where i first went..it seems funny after all those years but even today when i entered his office, it was the same sense of dread..as if i'll get scolded again for not being serious about my studies..and wasting my talent...

'May i come in Sir?"..and i opened the door..there he was..with his trademark smile..and "arre..beta..come come..."And Principal Sir, the same sweet teacher, who was more like a friend and a father for all of us..With him we could share all our woes and find guidance whenever we needed it..And then we talked ..about everything under the sky..from enquiring about families to condition of roads to the teachers to old students..and his recent visit to his old school as Benaras..Yes..with my present state of mind, i could completely relate to what he would have felt..

I finally let him in into our plans about the first ever alumni meet of our school..i told him about the e-group that we have..and that i wanted to talk to the students and see what they thought about it..And the sweet person that he is, he told me to go off and meet everyone...

Incidentally the classrooms have changed..so the first class i entered turned out to be tenth standard..(i just had to stop myself from writing FG X-"Family Group-X"..yes, we were all a big family there)..Ahem..Xth-All those solemn looking faces and specs gave them away..and guess who was there in the class??- Suvendu sir..He's put on some weight..but looked very tired..i talked to the students and told hem about the alumni meet that we're planning..They all were quite taken up by the idea..So i gave them my number, shared the ideas we have about it, asked them to sit over it and tell me about their plans..

The next room was the room which had been our class during the last two years in school..i remember every nook and corner of the room..three sides surrounded by eucalyptus trees..and the other two sides facing the main structure of the school..Those large arched windows and doors..That blackboard..that class bulletin at the back..{those benches and desks..those have changed though..}

..and just then the bell rang and it was the lunch break..and the children swarmed out of their classes with their lunch boxes..Most looked at me with apprehensive eyes..what else do you expect when they see someone standing in the middle of the lawn with a camera in hand, looking at the school with that 'lost' look..most of the kids weren't even born when i left school..but everyone seemed to know.."kusum didi.."and most sentences started with.."oh..you are Kusum didi??"..i won't say i wasn't flattered..but i felt more queasy in my toes..the teachers had had so much of expectation from me..they still have..they all had loved me so unconditionally..i had been a favourite with everyone..but i always believed that was more because they all were my favourites..And to realise they still talked about me to the students and i was a drifter still made me feel as if i had slid down on their scales of love and expectation..

Lunch break - good..so i could meet everyone in the staff room..

As i entered i hoped it had been otherwise..talking to everyone at a time would be chaotic..and it was..everyone was talking at once..and i'm sure i was blabbering back which didn't make any sense either..There were Arun sir, Sashmita maam, Rita Maam, Sushant sir, Nimi Maam, Yashoda Maam, Usha maam, Suvendu Sir, Sandhya Maam, Sheela Maam, Pooja Maam, Shipra maam..and a new teacher..in the harrum scarrum i forgot to ask her name..We talked about so many things including the problems they are facing, the times we had, and my weight..the last part figured at the maximum frequency...they tried telling me i was looking good but i know that was only a face saver after seeing that mortally hurt expression on my face..To tell you the truth i would have loved to spend some more time with all of them..indiviadually..every teacher has there own special place in my heart..

I then called in students of eighth and ninth and talked..we just talked..about the alumni meet and our plans regarding that...They reminded me of myself..about 10 years younger though..and we had loads of fun..we talked about a lot f things and mostly their dreams.. i told them about all past students who keep missing school..who have asked me to narrate every moment i spend at school in detail..i told them how the alumni are in every field and profession they can think off..and some they can't..No Tanveer..i didn't really expect you to open a gym and sport a six pack or was that an eight???

And finally i put the ball in their court and have asked them to fix a date in mid January..So you guys know when you have to book your tickets..Specially those in China, US, NY, LA, Tennessee,Korea, Africa, London, and god know where Rutuparna presently is..

It was already time for my meeting..so i had to rush off..I made a trip to the art class and i felt a tad sad..the walls were stripped off..the Madhubanis and water colours we had painstakingly created were not there..probably they are already torn or maybe taken down for restructuring..i don't know..Didn't even ask Gauda Sir..He was himself..that typical Gouda Sir smile..I met Surendra sir just as i was rushing off..he has lost even more weight if that was possible..he gave me one of his best toothy smiles..Wish i had talked to him a bit more..Someday..someday..

The library looked very different too..it has been reconstructed to accommodate more number of children but i loved the library of our times..That cosy room with books lined up on every wall from floor to roof..those wooden racks where i knew the position of every book that entered it..those dark green curtains..those matted floors..that soft light filtering through in winter afternoons..that musty bookish smell..i remembered every bit of it and tried to find that smell in the present library...the black board in the assembly, those wall magazines..But there were a lot of things missing..i missed a lot of teachers too..Mukherjee maam, Mishra Maam, Sharma sir, (Prem sir, Panchali Maam and Stan sir who had left when we were still in school..), Kamlesh Sir, Kalpana maam,Pankaj Sir..But Raju bhai and Mukesh Bhai were there..the bell rings ensured that.. and the students were a charm..they gave me back a part of me..

..even though i left the school because it was getting late i knew my heart was still stuck there..somehow i know a part of me will always be there and my school will be a part of me always..even after no one recognises me anymore..even after i have moved miles away..A part of me will still smile when it sees an eucalyptus tree..or any pentagon structure with slanting roof anywhere in the world..and will be lost in that special time called childhood....