Who killed Rahul's Mom

“Mom, I got 3^rd rank in the annual examination. I promise I’ll secure 1^st next time” said Rahul, a class 3 student. But, his voice was devoid of any excitement. Because, like any other kid, he was not communicating this message to his mother, but to his mother’s picture hanging on the wall.

Yes, Rahul is a class 3 student and he recently lost his mother and his unborn baby brother.

Exactly 7 months before this date, Rahul’s house was full of celebrations when they heard that Poornima is going to have a kid again. It was the most awaited arrival for Rahul because, he had been longing to have a sibling whom he can play with, whom he can boss over and whom he can take responsibility of.

Jan 2^nd 2010 – Poornima started having terrible pain and discomfort and since Pramod was relatively new to driving, he was panicked to drive his wife to the hospital. So, they called in for the 108 service and the ambulance was at their doorstep within 10 minutes. All three of them, Pramod, Rahul and Poornima started to the hospital. The paramedics were assuring that Poornima was fine and in another 15 minutes, she would be in the hospital. But for Poornima, 15 minutes seemed like 15 hours and she was unable to bear the pain anymore.

It was a Friday evening, and everyone was in a mood to rush home as early as possible.

After 10 minutes, the ambulance carrying Poornima was stuck in a traffic jam and came to a halt. Pramod who was sitting behind along with Poornima and Rahul could not see what was the reason for the jam. He peeped through the side window, and saw that the vehicles were all over the road.

Pramod waited for 5 minutes and then got down to see what the issue was. As he headed towards the front of the ambulance, he saw that there was a group of people who was watching something. Suspecting an accident, he moved close enough to get a clear view. And then, he saw that it was not an accident, but a petty street quarrel.

There was a young man who must have been in his early 20s and another person who appeared to be in late 60s. Both of them were shouting at the peak of their voices and all the people who were watching them appeared to be enjoying the live tamasha. Some of them, he realized were even becoming active participants of the argument.

He then went back to the ambulance and checked with the driver if there was any alternate route to reach hospital. But, the driver said, it was impossible to move out of this jam, because, the vehicle was in the middle of the road and was encircled by the other vehicles from all the sides. The paramedics now called Pramod and told him that Poornima’s condition was turning critical as she started bleeding and her pulse started declining.

Pramod immediately headed towards the place of argument and started requesting people to move aside and give way to the ambulance. But the spectators were so engrossed in watching the show that no one appeared to be bothered by what Pramod was saying.

He then squealed into the crowd, caught hold of the young man and requested him to let go of the other person. The young man turned to Pramod and with a harsh tone replied that he was not the one to withdraw till the old uncle gave him the money for the broken headlights of his new bike. Pramod turned to the old uncle and requested him saying that there was an ambulance behind and it was carrying his wife whose condition was serious. The old man gave an even more shocking answer. He said that if his wife was important to Pramod, so was his scooter to him. Pramod turned to the young man and volunteered to pay for the loss, but neither the young man nor the old man nor the crowd was ready. Some people even raised their voice in protest when Pramod said this. Knowing it’s of no use, he returned to the ambulance and the paramedics now said that, Poornima was drifting into coma due to the blood loss and low blood pressure. Rahul who was still too small to understand the gravity of the situation asked his dad when will his baby brother be out and when can he play with him.

The deadlock situation unwounded only after half an hour and by this time, Poornima was completely unconscious. Pramod was holding his tears and watching at the pulse meter that he noticed was going down and down. 68,67,65,59…

Paramedics were doing their best to prevent the pulse from drifting further. After one and a half hour, the ambulance reached the hospital. As the hospital staff rushed to the ambulance and they opened the door, Pramod heard a beep that was the most dreadful beep of his life. It was coming from the machine that was connected to Poornima and it went blank. All the curves that were being displayed till then vanished and now there was only a simple straight line and the loud beep. The staff nevertheless took her to the emergency ward and tried restoring her pulse, but it was in vain. Pramod who by now understood what was on to him and his little kid’s life silently took Poornima’s body and traveled back in the same ambulance that drove them to the hospital.

While returning too, he encountered numerous traffic jams, but he was no longer interested in resolving those, because, the irreparable loss had already occurred.

Tears dropped from Pramod’s face only when little Rahul asked him, “Where is the baby brother, when can I play with him?”

Do any of us have an answer for Rahul’s question?

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Kismat Connection

22/04/2010 – I came out from SVM@36 in Jubilee hills. If the A/C inside made feel like heaven, the sun outside started showing me the hell. I knew I wasn’t strong enough to withstand the hell, so decided to move to a nearby bus shelter. I think now it was the turn of APSRTC to tease me. I waited for ½ hour and still not a single bus turned up. So, I quickly made up my mind and decided to get into the Ferraris of Hyderabad (share autos). Soon, an auto stopped by and I got into it. It was then, for the first time that I saw her. Oh my God! She was so simply awesome, so beautiful that I felt I was destined to meet her. I was lucky enough to get a seat right next to her. To her other side, there was a man and from their conversations, I understood, he was her father. Oops! One thing that I never understand is: why girls and fathers go out together. When I become a father, I would never go out with my daughter, esp. if she is beautiful, because, I do not want to deprive young boys of their enjoyment.

Well, coming back to the girl whom I met, she had the looks of a fresh rose, smell of a sweet jasmine and eyes of a big pink lotus. Though I am not one of those types who usually stares at girls, with this girl, I could just not avoid looking at her. And then, I heard her speaking to her dad, and instantaneously her lips drew my attention. It’s my best bet, that even Aishwarya’s or Priyanka’s lips would be of no match to hers. As she uttered each word, it was like enjoying first monsoon after hot summer. Her words were making my heart not just dance, but dance with joy.

Even while I was relishing her sweet voice, I noticed her fingers. There was an instant urge in me to catch her hand, but then the civilized person in me controlled my feelings. Our auto slowly reached hitec city and my destination was just 2 stops away. I wanted to seek her attention and know her more before I got down. This time, silly heart won over my civilized mind, and I instantly caught her hand. Like a bose audio turned on in its full volume, she started crying. Her dad who was looking outside till then, immediately and looked at me with suspicion. But then he soon realized that I was just holding her hand, he gave a polite smile. Motivated with his smile, I asked him what was his daughter’s name. He said its “Tara”. Just when i was about to ask more questions, the share auto driver shouted “Kondapur”. I know it was time for me to part with this lovely angel, so got down, paid my money and gathered all the guts to ask the final question

“How old is she”. Her dad responded,“ she is going to turn 4 day after tomorrow”.

Oh my cute lovely 4-year-old angel, I can still feel her presence….

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The Oppressed

Today I am going to advocate for a section of society who has been “the oppressed” for centuries unknown and yet this oppression goes unnoticed by everyone.

I can probably understand and empathize with them more than anyone else because, even I once belonged to the same society.

No! I am not going to talk about any caste, sex or region here. On the contrary I am referring to another weaker section of the society- the society of lean people.

To elucidate further, here it goes…

I still remember very vividly the good old days in school, when school started after prolonged summer vacation. All of us returned to school with new school dresses, new bags, water bottles etc. The first day of the class was usually, a standard exercise followed by the class teachers of almost all the classes. It was the seating arrangement exercise where all of us were made to sit in the benches according to our heights - three per bench. My entire problem started only when my turn came. Only in the bench in which I sat, teachers used to push another extra candidate. Year after year, teachers changed, but this exception in my case continued. Not a single year passed, where I sat on my bench comfortably like everyone else.
My troubles were not restricted to school. Back home, whenever it was a travel time, like all other kids, I used to look forward to traveling. But, never I had a full seat during a bus journey. I’m not sure if it was special love or a reason to save ticket (though my instincts support the second reason) I was put on someone’s lap or was forced to sit between any two elders who traveled with me.

I was always hopeful that one day, I would have a seat in a classroom or in a bus.
But the saga of sharing space continued even in my graduation days. We belong to the older generation of graduation kids, who never had separate bikes or cars. So, whenever it was a movie time, we had to take autos and travel. We were a group of 5 girls – a number that was more for one auto and less for 2 autos. Since we always fell in short of funds, we would choose one auto over two and again, it was me who sat in the lap. I had a company this time though. Sometimes, I was lucky enough and got a relatively spacious place to sit – the side of the auto. I know! A weird place to sit, but only a person like me understands the comfort in such a place when compared to sitting on someone’s lap.
Well, one might call all the above incidents as cases of adjustment, then why am I referring people like me as the oppressed?

You have read through to know it…


After my graduation, I joined an IT firm in Mumbai and used to travel often to Hyderabad. On one such occasion, I got into the train at the Chatrapathi Sivaji Terminus (CST). My seat number was 62. The train started and all the seats in our coupe except one seat number 60 were full. I was surprised that for once in my life, I got lucky and would be able to sit comfortably. I settled down quickly and started reading the novel. The train slowly reached Pune and then I realized that there was a huge, gigantic figure standing in front of me. Oh, the person was so weirdly huge that he could have been easily mistaken for an alien. And then it was a joke that destiny played on me. The person’s seat number was 60.
How naïve I was for having trusted my luck with respect to sharing space. The person sat down in the allocated seat .The other person who was already sitting in seat number 61 was of considerable size too. So, they both together took advantage of my size and slowly pushed me. After a little unnoticed wrestling war, they were both successful in pushing me and squeezing me to the corner.

Isn’t it a clear case of exploitation of my lean structure?

The other case that made me realize my vulnerability is the share auto scene.

Hyderabad is quite famous for share autos. These autos though designed for a seating capacity of 3, the drivers here got innovative and remodeled these autos such that they carry 7 or at times even 8. One must be wondering how can a three-seater auto suffice seven or eight people. Well, that’s where people like me come into picture. The auto drivers count on the fact that the world is full of oppressed people like me.

Once I got into one such share auto and as luck would have it, as soon as I got into the auto another fatso huge aunty got into it. Her size intimidated me, so naturally I moved and adjusted so that she had adequate place to sit. The auto started and so did my troubles. As auto moved, the fat aunty started pushing me hard with her huge b**s. I was passive till a point when I realized that if I did not react, I would fall out of the auto. Out of the fear and anger that I would fall from the auto, I raised my voice and asked her to move a little. The response that I received from her not only hurt my ego forever but also forced me to take a resolution. When I asked her to move, she responded back in the most sarcastic voice,“ intha bakka ga unnavu, neeku kuda place kavalamma. Em padipovule, kurcho.” It means, “you are so lean, do you also need more place. It’s ok! Sit. You wont fall outside.”


I am not sure if it was the tone or the truth, but her dialogues made me realize how vulnerable I was. Be it a school bench or a bus or a train or a share auto, lean people were oppressed and were susceptible to such unscrupulous acts everywhere. So, I decided that day, that I will not allow this to continue with me forever. And so, I did something, which I feel every lean person should do.

I……….

I……….

I………..







I PUT ON WEIGHT. ☺))

The Haunting

It’s 6.30 p.m. I decide to call it a day and start from office. I get into my brand new Hyundai i10 Sportz, turn on the integrated music system, tune into 98.3 F.M, switch on the A.C and start driving. I reach J.N.T.U and as luck would have it, the signal turns red just when my turn comes. I press the breaks and my car comes to a halt. At the signals, I see the regular scenes of chaotic traffic jams, tired employees crossing roads everywhere, street hawkers trying to sell all they could as it is the close of business hour.

And then, amidst this busy environment, I see a small cute little girl running. Pre-occupied in her own world, she appeared jubilant, excited yet serene. She was running around with bare feet, to catch up with her friends. There was something about her, which caught my attention. As I watch her, the cacophony of honking distracts me and then, I realize that the signal turned green. I change the gear, press the accelerator and cross the road.

Finally, after one and a half hours of strenuous journey, I reach home. I decide to take the staircase and slowly reach 2nd floor where my deluxe flat is. I walk in the corridor and once I reach my flat, I grope inside my big Baggot leather handbag and successfully pull out my keys bunch. As I try unlocking the door, I hear a huge laughter. I turn around to see who it is and it’s again her. I see her sitting on the floor and playing with her friends while an old woman who appears to be her grand mother struggles to feed her the banana. Perplexed to find her in my apartments, I step inside my flat. I turn the light on and the sounds of calmness in my house win over the small girl’s laughter. It’s two weeks that my Husband left to U.S and I already feel the boredom. I switch the T.V on and aimlessly browse through all the channels, watch the news for some time and then decide its time to prepare dinner. I do not fall in the category of people who love eating; I eat for mere survival whereas my Husband is a great lover of food. So after he left, I do not have any interest or motivation to cook variety. I head towards the big double door refrigerator and open the door. As I look for vegetables, I notice something. Oh my God! It’s the Sundae Family pack ice cream which we had bought 2 weeks ago, I got just too busy and forgot eating it. Looks like there was a power failure for a long time, the ice cream not only melted but also leaked down the chill tray. Having no choice left, I go into the kitchen to get the wiping cloth.

Unbelievable, but I see her yet again. The little girl is standing in the corner of my kitchen, licking the cover of a small vanilla ice cream cup. Cute she was with ice cream all over her face. Before I ask her who she is and what is she doing in my kitchen, she vanishes. Strange hallunications… I think I should owe it all to my project stress…
I pick up the wiping cloth and clean up the mess. I am so tired that I decide not to cook anything but drink a glass of milk and sleep. I boil the milk, drink it and decide to go to bed early, as I have to start my day early tomorrow.

I make my bed, switch off the lights and stretch myself. It’s early March, but summer started showing its power already. Unable to bear the heat, I decide to turn the A.C on. I search for the a/c remote, but unable to locate it in the darkness, I switch on the lights and try looking for it through those unfolded comforters on my bed. My search operation goes in vain, so I decide to sleep in the next bedroom. All our bedrooms are air-conditioned. In fact our deluxe flat has all facilities (except for the fact that there are no people nor there is time to relish these luxuries).

I step into the other bedroom and this time I first ensure that the remote of this a/c is there and the a/c is operational. I go to bring my comforter and when I re-enter the bedroom, I notice that the room is full with 5 people sleeping down on the floor. People whose faces I am unable to recognize, but yes, one face does appear familiar. This is impossible! It’s the little girl again. I see her sleeping next to another boy who should be around 4 years elder to her. They are both pushing each other so that the stronger one gets to sleep in front of the small air cooler. The girl finally wins over him, not with muscles but with her mouth. Suddenly, I realize that all these unknown people are sleeping in MY bedroom. I get pissed off by these continuous, strange encounters and decide to shout at them. I enter the room but yet again, I see no one in the room and its absolutely silent. I get irritated but feel helpless, so get onto the bed and quietly go to sleep.

Entire night, the little girl with her bright eyes, lively face, and broad smile continues to haunt me in my dreams. Is it a ghost? Or some kind of black magic someone is trying to play? Can’t be! I am not a person who believes in all these, but now I start getting anxious. I try diverting my thoughts and finally fall asleep around 2.00 in the midnight.

Next morning, after snoozing the alarm six times, I finally manage to wake up at 6.45 a.m. I go straight to the washroom to wash my face and when I look into the mirror, instead of my image, I find hers.
It is only then, that I realize. I recognize that smile, I recognize those naughty looks and I have known this face for years. Because, that face is my own face when I was 8 years old. The 8-year-old face never traveled in car, never had a family pack ice cream, never slept in an air-conditioned room, but always had a bright face and an untiring smile. Over the years, as I grew, I probably got busy in my daily chores, so left that face behind. My soul misses that face so started haunting me.