Age and regrets
By Pratyush Raj Srivastava
“I am sorry father, but….”
This sentence was good enough for me, and my guardian spirit to commit suicide. But then he wasn’t wrong either.
I am an IIT pass out, IIM gold medalist and twenty years back I was the vice-president at oracle, but now, I think nothing really matters, nothing but family – and I never gave importance to it , and I am cursing myself alone for it.
The day my son was borne, I wasn’t there with my family instead I was involved in a meeting. It was my entire fault. Yes, I was there with my wife after a day but then I wasn’t there when it was all important. I wasn’t there when I was needed the most. I was just not there.
I did try to cover up my faults later but then I was too late. Too late, to control my son – but he wasn’t wrong to disobey my commands. He was a bright student, a very bright student indeed, but then he was always like me, shy, quite, and very much focused. That was how I was when I was young.
Now, I understand how bad my parents would have felt when I had to come to California, they needed me then but I …. I wanted to grow. And I was wrong.
Family is very important, for the growth of young one; and I understand it now. My son had done nothing wrong in asking me to leave for an old-age home. I was, as per his wife’s opinion, just not worth her troubles. I believe I am being paid back the way I paid my parents.
The only thing to be proud of in my life remains my wife. I was in class 12th when I proposed to her. I still don’t know why she said ‘yes’ to someone like me but then I am not complaining. It was in the winters, the 5th of December when I said the three magical words, indeed I still remember that day. We married ten years later and we were strangely very much in love till then. I don’t know how she could bear with me, ‘coz I was usually late on dates and we would have a small fight after which I would say sorry a thousand times and then she would smile – slowly. I still cherish those moments. It brings a smile to my old and wrinkled face. I could die for her smile – but then she died before I could and left me alone – a broken old man.
Only if she was here, situations would have been better and far from worse. She commanded respect from everyone around her, unlike me who commands respect only from my colleagues. She would have not allowed my son to grow so much, and make the same mistake as I made. Only if she was here.
Instead of going to old age home I have decided to go to my wife’s, my love’s grave. I would wait for my life to end near her if not with her. Being near was always fun and still is and I will die where she is – but only if I was there when my son was borne, if only………….
The end
Read all my stories at www. kahaniyaan.blogspot.com
Dec 24, 2007
Dec 22, 2007
ABANDONED...........
ABANDONED...........
by - Pratyush Raj Srivastava
“Dad how clear does this river looks”
“You want to swim”
“Yes dad”
“Go ahead”
I woke up with a start. I see this dream every time I am on the bed. I can never forget these moments. I had then rushed to the river only to find that my father was on his way back. For an hour or so I had not understood the complications of the actions of my father. Then light dawned on me. He had abandoned me.
I had stood there for an hour or so, and then I walked, walked towards nothing, walked away from the nothingness inside me.
My mother, well I had seen her once and she just did not respond to my happiness. She looked at me with great rage. My father had been the entire universe to me. He used to play with me, tell me stories of kings in Russia, told me everything I wanted to know, but he did not tell me one thing, he did not tell me that he’ll abandon me.But unlike all other girls of my age, I did not cry when he left me. I had never cried. Instead I thought of doing away with this pain in my head. My father and we were on a holiday. So I had no hope of returning back to Lucknow, and even if I did – what use was it really?
The shortest method of tracing a definite future leads me to a definite end. I had to commit suicide. My infant mind of nine years could not find any other “definite” result. I was near a river, so no hope of jumping from anywhere. I decided to climb my way up to the mountain that we had recently crossed.I still marvel at my effort. I had walked continuously for two days when I found a right place to end all my miseries. When I stood near the edge of the cliff I decided to cross the metal barrier and then jump. But my height did not help me. I decided to take assistance of bricks in this glorious deed. My search leads me to a kind of field. Two boys were playing there. Many bricks were kept near them and so when I was picking them a boy of about my own age came near me. He inquired of my identity and why was I collecting bricks from his playground. I don’t know why but I panicked and ran to the edge. Those two boys chased me and caught hold of me as I was about to jump. I don’t know what happened next.
When I woke up, I saw a pair of big oval eyes staring at me. He was the same boy, “Mom, she’s awake”. I was paralyzed with fear. Nothing made sense to me. Why I wasn’t dead was the looming question all over my infant brain. Then a woman entered the room. I had expected his mother to radiate the same amount of rage as my mother’s eyes does, but she was different. She, yes, she did smile at me. I still remember her first smile. Now I am accustomed to it but then it was like healing balm. She went out of the room again, and when she returned she came back with delicious dishes. I looked at the food and then towards her, not a single word was said. First, for the first time in my life I cried, and she hugged me. After maybe an hour or so of my consistent crying she told me that she’s my mother now. I started crying again. It’s silly how much I had cried that day but finally I stopped and then ate food like I was a pack animal. I had not eaten a morsel of food for past two or three days.
That woman, now my mother never asked me who I was, or which family did I belong to and I had never told her. Maybe she knows the story as she has to console me every night, whenever I see that dream.
That boy’s (now my brother) name is Amitosh and he cares about me. Although we are of the same age yet he treats me like a kid sister. And I adore him for doing that.
Living in this family had taught me a way to abandon all my fears, because I am no more the person who is abandoned.
THE END
by - Pratyush Raj Srivastava
“Dad how clear does this river looks”
“You want to swim”
“Yes dad”
“Go ahead”
I woke up with a start. I see this dream every time I am on the bed. I can never forget these moments. I had then rushed to the river only to find that my father was on his way back. For an hour or so I had not understood the complications of the actions of my father. Then light dawned on me. He had abandoned me.
I had stood there for an hour or so, and then I walked, walked towards nothing, walked away from the nothingness inside me.
My mother, well I had seen her once and she just did not respond to my happiness. She looked at me with great rage. My father had been the entire universe to me. He used to play with me, tell me stories of kings in Russia, told me everything I wanted to know, but he did not tell me one thing, he did not tell me that he’ll abandon me.But unlike all other girls of my age, I did not cry when he left me. I had never cried. Instead I thought of doing away with this pain in my head. My father and we were on a holiday. So I had no hope of returning back to Lucknow, and even if I did – what use was it really?
The shortest method of tracing a definite future leads me to a definite end. I had to commit suicide. My infant mind of nine years could not find any other “definite” result. I was near a river, so no hope of jumping from anywhere. I decided to climb my way up to the mountain that we had recently crossed.I still marvel at my effort. I had walked continuously for two days when I found a right place to end all my miseries. When I stood near the edge of the cliff I decided to cross the metal barrier and then jump. But my height did not help me. I decided to take assistance of bricks in this glorious deed. My search leads me to a kind of field. Two boys were playing there. Many bricks were kept near them and so when I was picking them a boy of about my own age came near me. He inquired of my identity and why was I collecting bricks from his playground. I don’t know why but I panicked and ran to the edge. Those two boys chased me and caught hold of me as I was about to jump. I don’t know what happened next.
When I woke up, I saw a pair of big oval eyes staring at me. He was the same boy, “Mom, she’s awake”. I was paralyzed with fear. Nothing made sense to me. Why I wasn’t dead was the looming question all over my infant brain. Then a woman entered the room. I had expected his mother to radiate the same amount of rage as my mother’s eyes does, but she was different. She, yes, she did smile at me. I still remember her first smile. Now I am accustomed to it but then it was like healing balm. She went out of the room again, and when she returned she came back with delicious dishes. I looked at the food and then towards her, not a single word was said. First, for the first time in my life I cried, and she hugged me. After maybe an hour or so of my consistent crying she told me that she’s my mother now. I started crying again. It’s silly how much I had cried that day but finally I stopped and then ate food like I was a pack animal. I had not eaten a morsel of food for past two or three days.
That woman, now my mother never asked me who I was, or which family did I belong to and I had never told her. Maybe she knows the story as she has to console me every night, whenever I see that dream.
That boy’s (now my brother) name is Amitosh and he cares about me. Although we are of the same age yet he treats me like a kid sister. And I adore him for doing that.
Living in this family had taught me a way to abandon all my fears, because I am no more the person who is abandoned.
THE END
Dec 13, 2007
STATIC INDIA
i had send this story for a contest ...
plzz tell me ur thoughts about this story.........honest opinions plzz......ill appreciate it....
The alarm crowed. A lusty king of the farmyard cock-a-doodle-do. He shut the mobile up. One hour and five minutes was all he had before his day began. He would steal five minutes from that. Look the other way; he told that frowning creature in his soul. “I do it all the time. A little corruption. A little bribery. I negotiate with the world 24 /7. So why not an extra 5 minutes of sleep?” he told himself and buried his head under the pillow. And so began another day in the life of an Indian.
He had hardly snapped his eyes shut when his mobile started ringing once again. He picked it up only to read “Rally in Lucknow by the CM, be there in four hours – Editor”.
“Darn it”, he muttered under his breath and left his cozy bed.
Amitosh was a journalist in Ujjaini who thought of every politician as a plague on the face of humanity.
He reached the platform before the allotted arrival time of the train. Not a soul saving his was on the platform – not even porters.
The stationmaster told him that the train was a good two hours late. He felt suddenly tired, as if he had walked twenty miles. Then he looked about himself to find some means of killing the time on the station-walls. At last he went out again and halted at the gates of the station, racking his brains to find something to do. From time to time a cat crossed the streets and jumped over the gutter carefully. A cur sniffed at every tree and hunted for fragments from the kitchen but he did not see a single human being. He felt listless and heartless.
‘What could I do with myself?’ he thought.
Left with no option he visited the small café at the railway station where he sat over a cup of undrinkable tea and an illegible newspaper.
After three hours of sitting idly at the café and being confirmed by the stationmaster that the train is a further two hours late. Amitosh was fully convinced that India is surely headed to the gallows, sooner than later. ‘The politicians have left no stone unturned to completely ruin India.’ he thought.
‘The CM would be promising to cater to the needs of the SC/ST/OBC’s while in reality he will make every possible effort to nullify the growth of the general category so that it would seem that SC/ST/OBC’s are on a rise but it would be the general people who would start to live a more wretched life.’ He thought.
‘He would go on to make more ground breaking promises that even Mr. Bush would find impossible to accomplish which in itself says a lot about the caliber of our politicians.
‘But obviously they have to use the same script in future also. They fear nothing more than fulfilling a promise, as once fulfilled they would be devoid of promising the same promise to the same promise to the same people the next time – and such an insult to their vanity they could not tolerate so once elected they’ll forget their promises. Probatum est.’ he concluded.
But this revelation gave Amitosh a weird sort of idea. In no time he had left the station.
Few hours later he handed a finished article on the rally to his editor, who was immensely pleased by Amitosh’s speed of work and Amitosh happily accepted the accolades given even when in his heart he knew he just he had to search for this article in some previous years newspaper!
THE END
plzz tell me ur thoughts about this story.........honest opinions plzz......ill appreciate it....
The alarm crowed. A lusty king of the farmyard cock-a-doodle-do. He shut the mobile up. One hour and five minutes was all he had before his day began. He would steal five minutes from that. Look the other way; he told that frowning creature in his soul. “I do it all the time. A little corruption. A little bribery. I negotiate with the world 24 /7. So why not an extra 5 minutes of sleep?” he told himself and buried his head under the pillow. And so began another day in the life of an Indian.
He had hardly snapped his eyes shut when his mobile started ringing once again. He picked it up only to read “Rally in Lucknow by the CM, be there in four hours – Editor”.
“Darn it”, he muttered under his breath and left his cozy bed.
Amitosh was a journalist in Ujjaini who thought of every politician as a plague on the face of humanity.
He reached the platform before the allotted arrival time of the train. Not a soul saving his was on the platform – not even porters.
The stationmaster told him that the train was a good two hours late. He felt suddenly tired, as if he had walked twenty miles. Then he looked about himself to find some means of killing the time on the station-walls. At last he went out again and halted at the gates of the station, racking his brains to find something to do. From time to time a cat crossed the streets and jumped over the gutter carefully. A cur sniffed at every tree and hunted for fragments from the kitchen but he did not see a single human being. He felt listless and heartless.
‘What could I do with myself?’ he thought.
Left with no option he visited the small café at the railway station where he sat over a cup of undrinkable tea and an illegible newspaper.
After three hours of sitting idly at the café and being confirmed by the stationmaster that the train is a further two hours late. Amitosh was fully convinced that India is surely headed to the gallows, sooner than later. ‘The politicians have left no stone unturned to completely ruin India.’ he thought.
‘The CM would be promising to cater to the needs of the SC/ST/OBC’s while in reality he will make every possible effort to nullify the growth of the general category so that it would seem that SC/ST/OBC’s are on a rise but it would be the general people who would start to live a more wretched life.’ He thought.
‘He would go on to make more ground breaking promises that even Mr. Bush would find impossible to accomplish which in itself says a lot about the caliber of our politicians.
‘But obviously they have to use the same script in future also. They fear nothing more than fulfilling a promise, as once fulfilled they would be devoid of promising the same promise to the same promise to the same people the next time – and such an insult to their vanity they could not tolerate so once elected they’ll forget their promises. Probatum est.’ he concluded.
But this revelation gave Amitosh a weird sort of idea. In no time he had left the station.
Few hours later he handed a finished article on the rally to his editor, who was immensely pleased by Amitosh’s speed of work and Amitosh happily accepted the accolades given even when in his heart he knew he just he had to search for this article in some previous years newspaper!
THE END
Killing A Part Of Myself
i had send this story for a contest ...
plzz tell me ur thoughts about this story.........honest opinions plzz......ill appreciate it....
The alarm crowed. A lusty king of the farmyard cock-a-doodle-do. He shut the mobile up. One hour and five minutes was all he had before his day began. He would steal five minutes from that. Look the other way, he told that frowning creature in his soul. I do it all the time. A little corruption. A little bribery. I negotiate with the world 24 /7. So why not an extra 5 minutes of sleep? He told himself and buried his head under the pillow. And so began another day in the life of an Indian middle class banker.
"Good morning”, said his wife.
“Morning “, he replied and drowsily got up.
The word “OM” started reverberating in the background, and he immediately jumped out of the bed.
“Aji lets meditate first.”
“Just coming”, he excused himself. He couldn’t meditate-he had too many worries in the world to think of.
“Aji, yesterday Arav had called, he needs to buy few books, so he’s coming tomorrow”.
“He’s not coming”.
“He hasn’t returned for past three months”
“No, JEE is his life-he needs to realize it”
“But…” his wife looked at him- resigned, her eyes turning moist.
“It’s his for his own good.” He replied. She was dejected-her heart broken but he closed the topic; he was getting late for his bank.
Amitosh was busy thinking while walking to his bank- only a short distance away.
Does he have enough to give to his son, “no” was the reply. It was the end of the month and he hasn’t saved enough. He took out a Marlboro… and took a deep ‘suttah’, and reflected on his situation.
His real reason to refuse his son’s desire to come back wasn’t JEE, as he realized, it was money-the train ticket. Nor can he deny his son his books- ‘coz he was a bright lad. But this month he hadn’t saved enough.
“Darn it”, he sweared and kept walking.
He sat down under a peepal tree and started taking deep ‘suttah’. “How can I save more money”, echoed in his mind. There was no reply. Dejected he started counting all the money he had spent – all was invested in the family- except smoking. Again he started calculating- “I smoke around six cigarettes – that’s almost 50 bucks a day, 1500 bucks a month, my one month in a year!”
He got shocked with that astounding figure. He can’t possibly deny himself this pleasure; nor can he deny his son- his future. He was after all his only hope, his only son. He owed it to Arav, but can he do it. He took the cigarette out of his mouth…the red butt glowing- his other hand fished in his pocket and took another one…he thought of lighting the new one with the already spent one, but he felt like burning his son’s future- the comparison was unmistakable. The irony too hard to swallow. His condition too precarious….. he was on the point of no hope. A decision had to be made.
“Hello, Arav.”
“Namaste Papa.”
“How are you?”
“I’m fine”
“So what’s your plan tomorrow?”
“Mom told me not to come so i..”
“Yes, Yes I know, but tomorrow you’ll be coming back, OK and don’t tell mom about it- we’ll give her a surprise.”
Arav started laughing.
“And don’t forget to bring your books to study here.”
“of course Dad.”
“Love you son”
“Love you, Papa.”
He had made his decision.
THE END
plzz tell me ur thoughts about this story.........honest opinions plzz......ill appreciate it....
The alarm crowed. A lusty king of the farmyard cock-a-doodle-do. He shut the mobile up. One hour and five minutes was all he had before his day began. He would steal five minutes from that. Look the other way, he told that frowning creature in his soul. I do it all the time. A little corruption. A little bribery. I negotiate with the world 24 /7. So why not an extra 5 minutes of sleep? He told himself and buried his head under the pillow. And so began another day in the life of an Indian middle class banker.
"Good morning”, said his wife.
“Morning “, he replied and drowsily got up.
The word “OM” started reverberating in the background, and he immediately jumped out of the bed.
“Aji lets meditate first.”
“Just coming”, he excused himself. He couldn’t meditate-he had too many worries in the world to think of.
“Aji, yesterday Arav had called, he needs to buy few books, so he’s coming tomorrow”.
“He’s not coming”.
“He hasn’t returned for past three months”
“No, JEE is his life-he needs to realize it”
“But…” his wife looked at him- resigned, her eyes turning moist.
“It’s his for his own good.” He replied. She was dejected-her heart broken but he closed the topic; he was getting late for his bank.
Amitosh was busy thinking while walking to his bank- only a short distance away.
Does he have enough to give to his son, “no” was the reply. It was the end of the month and he hasn’t saved enough. He took out a Marlboro… and took a deep ‘suttah’, and reflected on his situation.
His real reason to refuse his son’s desire to come back wasn’t JEE, as he realized, it was money-the train ticket. Nor can he deny his son his books- ‘coz he was a bright lad. But this month he hadn’t saved enough.
“Darn it”, he sweared and kept walking.
He sat down under a peepal tree and started taking deep ‘suttah’. “How can I save more money”, echoed in his mind. There was no reply. Dejected he started counting all the money he had spent – all was invested in the family- except smoking. Again he started calculating- “I smoke around six cigarettes – that’s almost 50 bucks a day, 1500 bucks a month, my one month in a year!”
He got shocked with that astounding figure. He can’t possibly deny himself this pleasure; nor can he deny his son- his future. He was after all his only hope, his only son. He owed it to Arav, but can he do it. He took the cigarette out of his mouth…the red butt glowing- his other hand fished in his pocket and took another one…he thought of lighting the new one with the already spent one, but he felt like burning his son’s future- the comparison was unmistakable. The irony too hard to swallow. His condition too precarious….. he was on the point of no hope. A decision had to be made.
“Hello, Arav.”
“Namaste Papa.”
“How are you?”
“I’m fine”
“So what’s your plan tomorrow?”
“Mom told me not to come so i..”
“Yes, Yes I know, but tomorrow you’ll be coming back, OK and don’t tell mom about it- we’ll give her a surprise.”
Arav started laughing.
“And don’t forget to bring your books to study here.”
“of course Dad.”
“Love you son”
“Love you, Papa.”
He had made his decision.
THE END
THE CALL
i had send this story for a contest ...
plzz tell me ur thoughts about this story.........honest opinions plzz....
The alarm crowed. A lusty king of the farmyard cock-a-doodle-do. He shut the mobile up. One hour and five minutes was all he had before his day began. He would steal five minutes from that. Look the other way, he told that frowning creature in his soul. “I do it all the time. A little corruption. A little bribery. I negotiate with the world 24 /7. So why not an extra 5 minutes of sleep? “ he told himself and buried his head under the pillow. And so began another day in the life of an Indian youth trying to find some ground under his feet.
Amitosh was a regular small town person, who after completing his studies joined aMNC as a sales manager. His 9 to 7 job was good by normal standards and cool by the green currency’s standard; yet in his quiet moments he knew there had to be more. He had to fill that emptiness that had started to envelope his life.
His mobile started ringing again; still lying on the bed he stretched his right hand an opened his left eye to read the message “meeting at 9:00”.
“Darn it”, he muttered under his breath and left the bed.
Few minutes later he sat in his prized SUV and his heart soared when he gunned the engine and all its ferocity sprang to life with a roar; but the roar did not even register in his head. ‘Why am I still unsatisfied’, was the question that rang in his head like his grandfathers cuckoo-clock.
Wasn’t it yesterday, when he had met Ankush, his cook Ajay’s son who wasn’t getting any education because Ajay had three sons and four daughters to support, and he was hard pressed for money. Just because Ajay is poor doesn’t mean Ankush should be devoid of the major necessity of humans – education.
When he was a kid, he dreamed such great dreams. He really believed that he could do, have and be whatever he wanted to be. Back then fun came in simple pleasures. Fun was spending a glorious afternoon riding through the woods on his bicycle with his friends or teaching the impoverished kids whatever he was taught in his school, lecturing them like his teachers used to do. He had such a curiosity for life. He was an adventurer; there were no limits on what his future could bring.
‘I honestly don’t think I have felt that kind of freedom and joy for many years. What happened?’, he thought to himself.
‘Perhaps I lost sight of my dreams when I became an adult and resigned myself to acting the way adults were supposed to act. Maybe I lost sight of them when I management school and started talking like managers were supposed to talk. But its time.’ he conceded and gunned his SUV into action.
“Sir, the meeting is about to begin in five minutes, you need to be in the boardroom”, his secretary said as soon as he entered his cabin.
“Can you wait outside for me?” he looked at her. She nodded and complied.
A smile broke across Amitosh’s face as he sat down on his revolving seat and hen happily typed up his resignation letter.
He left the building without even looking back. It was the beginning of a new life for him. He thought of working with some NGO In the field of primary education. He resolved to spend lesser time on making a living and far more time on creating a life.
He had answered his inner call.
THE END
plzz tell me ur thoughts about this story.........honest opinions plzz....
The alarm crowed. A lusty king of the farmyard cock-a-doodle-do. He shut the mobile up. One hour and five minutes was all he had before his day began. He would steal five minutes from that. Look the other way, he told that frowning creature in his soul. “I do it all the time. A little corruption. A little bribery. I negotiate with the world 24 /7. So why not an extra 5 minutes of sleep? “ he told himself and buried his head under the pillow. And so began another day in the life of an Indian youth trying to find some ground under his feet.
Amitosh was a regular small town person, who after completing his studies joined aMNC as a sales manager. His 9 to 7 job was good by normal standards and cool by the green currency’s standard; yet in his quiet moments he knew there had to be more. He had to fill that emptiness that had started to envelope his life.
His mobile started ringing again; still lying on the bed he stretched his right hand an opened his left eye to read the message “meeting at 9:00”.
“Darn it”, he muttered under his breath and left the bed.
Few minutes later he sat in his prized SUV and his heart soared when he gunned the engine and all its ferocity sprang to life with a roar; but the roar did not even register in his head. ‘Why am I still unsatisfied’, was the question that rang in his head like his grandfathers cuckoo-clock.
Wasn’t it yesterday, when he had met Ankush, his cook Ajay’s son who wasn’t getting any education because Ajay had three sons and four daughters to support, and he was hard pressed for money. Just because Ajay is poor doesn’t mean Ankush should be devoid of the major necessity of humans – education.
When he was a kid, he dreamed such great dreams. He really believed that he could do, have and be whatever he wanted to be. Back then fun came in simple pleasures. Fun was spending a glorious afternoon riding through the woods on his bicycle with his friends or teaching the impoverished kids whatever he was taught in his school, lecturing them like his teachers used to do. He had such a curiosity for life. He was an adventurer; there were no limits on what his future could bring.
‘I honestly don’t think I have felt that kind of freedom and joy for many years. What happened?’, he thought to himself.
‘Perhaps I lost sight of my dreams when I became an adult and resigned myself to acting the way adults were supposed to act. Maybe I lost sight of them when I management school and started talking like managers were supposed to talk. But its time.’ he conceded and gunned his SUV into action.
“Sir, the meeting is about to begin in five minutes, you need to be in the boardroom”, his secretary said as soon as he entered his cabin.
“Can you wait outside for me?” he looked at her. She nodded and complied.
A smile broke across Amitosh’s face as he sat down on his revolving seat and hen happily typed up his resignation letter.
He left the building without even looking back. It was the beginning of a new life for him. He thought of working with some NGO In the field of primary education. He resolved to spend lesser time on making a living and far more time on creating a life.
He had answered his inner call.
THE END
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