New Year 2011

This is going to be a difficult blog post to write.

I am going to say NO in this post.

I was raised to say yes, whenever, wherever I can. Growing up, saying yes to someone’s request symbolized caring, respect, humility and love. Saying no, by default, meant the opposite of those emotions. I was trained as a child, to always give what is mine to others, even when I was not quite ready to give it, even when the needs of others were not quite that pressing. I was conditioned to be there for those who need help, never mind how they chose to repay you.

In retrospect, my parents raised me to be an angel, but I have to live on this earth. I know how blessed I am to have met and made so many great friends in my journey of life. However, what was unsaid, was that I have also met a lot of dementors too.

According to J K Rowling & Wikipedia, dementors “….feed on the positive emotions, happiness and good memories of human beings, forcing them to relive their worst memories.” My closest friends know and have heard of how they had affected me.

So this year, I am going to say NO to every one of them. I owe it to myself, and my friends who helped me through my down time when these people sucked all the positive emotions out of me. I feel that not saying NO to those who do not care about me is equivalent to me not respecting those who want me to be happy. Hence, without much ado…

This year, I WILL NOT allow others to hold me hostage in a place or an activity against my wishes

This year, I WILL NOT friend and follow, anyone who brings bad vibes to my life without a second thought or a second chance. 

This year, I WILL NOT allow anyone to disrespect me, my friends or my country.

This year, I WILL NOT try to help everyone in need. Some people do not deserve it.

This year, I WILL NOT worry about what was said and what was broken.

This year, WILL NOT apologize just to resolve conflict.

However, this year, I will

Help my friends when I have the time, energy and inclination to do it, and do it without any expectations.

Stop saying yes when I mean may be, and stop saying may be when I mean no.

Keep trying out new things, but also say no when I feel like it.

I have realized that by saying YES to everything and everyone, I end up saying NO a lot to myself and what I want to do. Life is so short, I have to live it the best way I think it should be lived. I do not have it in me to save the world, but I can make it a happier place for a very select number of people.

A happy new year to myself.

The Crush n Crashes

Everyone in their lives would have had crushes, and me too had my share of crushes. But, it didn't take much time for each of them to turn to crashes. Well each time I stumbled upon my crush and ave fallen for him

None of my crushes took off, or probably they crashed even before they took off !! Today, when I look back, I can’t manage but to have a laugh.

My first crush was on Miss R. We happened to speak only once. It was when I had offered her a coke. She refused to have it and the very next moment I gulped it down. I still cant forget the dumbstruck look on her face. A few days later, she started going around with one of my classmates. They used to go for wonderful evening walks, Miss R, my classmate and her doggy. Unfortunately(fortunately for me), the affair didn't last too long. On one such romantic walk of theirs, my classmate was bitten by the doggy. He brought up the question : Its me or the dog......The answer was anyones guess, she chose the dog !!! The news gave me sadistic pleasure.

It was in class 11th-12th. I got very friendly with Miss N in my class. It appeared to me that...yes...she is the girl. One day, Miss N came and sat next to me...close...really Close... My heart beats shot up. She said.. I want to tell you something....but please maintain

it as a secret. I knew...this was it...yes....she went on...you know...X(another classmate of mine) proposed me......and I too like him...and I accepted. I am telling you coz you are like my brother.......WHAT THE HECK ? As if the first news wasn't bad enough, the second sounded suicidal. I looked at her with an artificial smile and said....Congrats S..S..Sis !!! Last Durga Puja I saw her with a kid on her lap in on of the Puja Pandals. I just did a vanishing act due to fear. The fear that she would introduce her toddler to me as “Look baby this is your Mama” .

The next crush didn't take much time to happen. It was Miss S who walked in to class. I literally had my jaws hanging seeing her. We became good friends...but I never fancied my chances...given the Miss N experience. She was my Biology project partner....while she concentrated on the project...I concentrated on her ! Just as the boards got over, and as I mustered enough courage to tell her my feelings, She asked for some time to respond to my proposal. I waited for her reply for a month. The last thing I heard about her was that her dad got transferred. She changed the city for ever.

Next in high school, there was this hottie in my class. Boy....she was a babe...Miss G. She used to stand opposite to me in the chemistry lab. I prayed for some chemistry to happen between us. But I guess, she was much smarter than I was. Miss G realised that I used to mess up all my titration experiments coz I used to be looking at her and not the lab apparatus. I called her out ALONE on my b'day. She turned up with her whole bunch of friends. The girls kept giggling and I looked for a place where I could go and bang my head. I steered clear of her for the rest of my school days.

Moving on from here, it was a major success story. This time round, it took some time for things to crash....just a little longer. A bit more than five years. Everything seemed like a fairy tale when the crash factor took the better of me.

By this time, I was in my job and I decided to use the term "interest" instead of crush. So my interest grew in Miss K in office. I thought she was a very pretty lady. Thankfully, the growth of my interest stopped very soon, the moment I learnt that she was supposed to go on leave the next week for her marriage. She was to marry her long time boyfriend. Only one thought came to my mind....The good ones are always taken!!!

She is my classmate and girlfriend of another classmate (sigh), but she agreed to go with me for an ice-cream. Hey, don’t raise your eyebrows ... I took permission from my friend; after all I am a very very good boy. She is gorgeous, even for 1 day at least I could be beside her. People would think I have a gorgeous girlfriend (obviously I don't want my mom to see though)

So we went to the Rollicks parlor at city centre. It's quite cozy corner. I ordered two black forests. Yummy, I love ice-cream, she loves too. We chatted n chatted for a long time. As a usual girl, She talked about her family and I was talking about other people's families (I don’t talk about my Dad, as people get to know how scared I am of him :(...) . We took burgers too and it was almost 1 hour past. The parlor boys were smiling, they took us as love birds. Finally we got up to pay the bills and wow! I didn't bring the purse with me!! Seriously enough, overjoyed with excitement I forgot my wallet at home. I felt ground shifting away from under my feet. But I had to do something. I took up my mobile and pretended as if there was a missed call and asked the girl to wait for while I called back the number. I ordered a cold drink, put that in front of her, got out and went home almost flying, God .. I might meet an accident with the speed I travelled.

After coming back I found she had left the parlor after paying the bill. She thought I ran away after she heard the sound of my bike's engine. Till date I could not convince her that I went to take the purse. Poor me, what a dating experience I had!!

Ha ha ha.....thankfully.....I have grown out of all these......no more
CRUSHES.....so no chances of CRASHES......
I live this way now.....hey...wait.....who is this girl???? !!!!!!!!!!!!!

Singled Out !

AK returned back from the leave with a packet of sweets. AK IS ENGAGED. The word spread like jungle fire. “Hearty Congratulations” started pouring in from all over. I also extended my best wishes trying to make it sound less customary than cursory.. According to me, he needed Best wishes more than Congratulations for all that lay ahead. I could not stop sympathizing with him and myself too coz now I was the sole defending Batsman left in the team of us happy bachelors.. The slog iover has begun. The usual tirade that I & AK used to face collectively till date was now solely bequeathed to me. Have a glimpse of how I have been Gheraofied on my last visit back home by seemingly everyone of my acquaintances on this planet..

ME: “Life is getting mundane. There isn’t much exciting happening.”
Colleague: “Get married. You will never say that again.”
(I am yet to decipher the true intentions of the speaker behind saying this statement. Was this a sincere suggestion or sarcastic comment on getting married?)

Me: “I am tired of eating the same daal-chawal & chapatti in canteen.”
Aunty: “Get married. Then you will have home cooked food everyday.”
(And who will arrange the kitchen & pay the maid to do the utensils & bring the grocery? More so if she too is working then who would be cooking? No one knows!)

Me: “Hello! It’s been pretty long since we talked last.”
Friend: “Yeah! I thought probably you got engaged & didn’t bother to inform me. Is it so?”
Me:“No yaar! No plans yet.”
Friend: “To kya budhaape mein shaadi karega. Yaar get married soon. Bahut dinon se kisee yaar ki shaadi mein dance nahi kiya.”
(Wow! What a wonderful reason for me to get married! Mere dost ko shaadi mein dance karna hai. Can’t he dance anywhere else? What happened to all the discotheques?)

My twelve year old cousin sister: “Bhaiya when are you getting married? I am not buying any new dress this wedding season. I will buy them at your wedding only. You have to buy a lehanga for me.”
Me: “But you can have that lehanga otherwise too, sweatheart!”
Cousin : “hmmm…woh to hai but first, I have to wear it at your wedding na?”
(Another amazing reason. My friend wants to dance & my sis wants to dress up!)

Buaji: “Batte! Jaldi se ek soni si kudi leke aa. Ab hum bhi thhode saas banne ke faayde uthhayein.”
(As if Daughter-in-laws are designer made & one can easily shop for them. Gosh! Its my wedding, not some Mughalai dish which can be ordered from a good restaurant)

Phuphaji, is one step further ahead: “Main to teri saas ko jhappi dene ka wait kar raha hu.” 

Bhabhi: “Deverji, dekho get married timely. Baad mein family settle karne mein bhi time lagega. You won’t want your kids to be studying still while you are already retired.”
(Practical advice straight out of Experience! I won’t offer any counter argument. In fact I can’t)

Doctor friend: “Abhi shaadi karle. Warna after 30, bachhe ko bhi risk rehta hai.”
(This time it’s a Doctor’s advice. But just imagine, talking about “yarn export business” to a farmer planning to buy land for cultivating cotton.)

Bro (I got this recently): “See brother, there are so many things you do without asking why you are doing them. Before marriage you might be troubled with your inability to find any answers to those “Whys”. But after marriage such “Whys” will not bother you.You will understand that Life goes on.”
(What did he say? Can anyone tell that to me please....)

Sis: “Dekh abhi to meri dresses aa bhi rahi hain. Baad mein saari nayi dresses leni padegi. Why do you want me to spend all over again?”
(I m too bugged up to even think about the reason given. I just smile & nod in acceptance)

Another cousin: “Don’t worry. Shaadi karle. Baad mein sab thheek ho jaata hai. More so, you have to get married one day, so why not now?”
(I wonder. Everybody has to die one day, but everyone doesn’t commit suicide)

Dad: “Ab teri shaadi karne ke baad I want to retire. When I see other’s kids getting married, I wonder when mine will do.”
(It seems, as if I am the only “Single” left in the group. Or rather “Singled out”)

MOM got the Final word: “Enough is Enough. I am not going to listen to you anymore. You get married this year & then do whateve r you like, go wherever you want to go. I won’t stop you.”

“Leap of faith” - I have begun to understand this phrase with respect to marriage. Marriage increases your faith in yourself before you do it & later it increases the span of your faith beyond yourself.

The species of Happy bachelors like me is getting endangered. Something needs to be done urgently for its conservation.. Anyone out there who could save me PLEASE.___

P.S. Giving in to the increasing circumstantial pressures, I had to finally accede,“O.K., I am ready to get married.”(Sigh!)..
So, its “Hooray” for my family & relatives who have launched a frenzied hunt for the bride..
Its gonna be an “Arranged Marriage!!" ??? Yet to be seen!!!

 

P.P.S  After staying away from home for more than a decade (read bachelorhood) my personal space has grown toooo huge. The belief of encroachment in my personal space after marriage is creating a sense of fear and anxiety and am just praying that it doesn’t reach paranoid proportions.

 

 

A Journey within me...

Just few days earlier I had to travel to a distant land of Chennai, a 40 hour train journey. Yes you heard it right its Four followed by a Zero. This was certainly not my first train journey on Boakro Allepy Exp. to Chennai but yes I was taking this train after a long time thanks to the soaring price of aviation. To beat the blues I had mission to find a companion, at least for this boring journey. While waiting for my over familiar train at Bokaro Steel City railway station and mulling over obtrusive souls present around me in the milling crowd, I saw someone with a cognizable face to me. This was enough to jog the memory of my fantabulous & wondrous school days……those cool days full of masti…..just like masala cold-drink…..cool nd spicy. Ya, she was my classmate in my last 2 yrs of schooling whom I saw after an aeon.


She was actually one of those thirteen lucky girls who had a companionship of 47 ill-starred guys.(referring to fairer sex fellowship at least in class)…..(really lucky girls …na?) Of those 13 there were only 3 whom i could die for. So, how can I forget her?


While she approached near, my heart started pumping blood at a faster pace. I composed myself and took a dekko at her as I tried to establish a communication with her through my eyes. It was not reciprocated in the form of a hello of joy & surprise…..neither in the form of a gesture of jubilation…….nor a smile of recognition….Ohh no..What a washout! Mission fails in a second. So, the first vibe was not that positive for me…& certainly not for her too.


I got disheartened... But was not demotivated, so... here is the second try…..why not…After gathering bits of myself and my composure after that previous misfire, and taking few deep breaths, I went to her and asked the same question which Naveen Prabhakar used to ask everytime he was aired on laughter challenge….."pehchan kaun?”….but of course in my style. My heart was shattered into pieces (Is dil ke tukde hazar hue.. Kuch yahan gire kuch wahan gire) I recomposed myself again. Only after I let her know my name, she was able to recognize me. (What a Shame). Just as my little mission was a success, “tum badal gaye ho” were the words she uttered. My ever pondering brain once again went ruminative about what has changed?

But my heart took over my brain and started to rule over me. My heart desired her company beyond those 40 hours of train journey. I wanted her destination to be my heart but i am not a person who imposed my opinion on others. I asked her destination. My heart broke again on hearing that her destination was Ranchi and not my heart. I had just 3 hours of her company.


The train was on the platform now. I had a reserved ticket and she had an open (unreserved) ticket. Well these are mismatch which happens in life. My curiosity to peep a bit into her life and the greed to make this otherwise boring journey a bit interesting led me to inviting to her to my seat. Initially she agreed but on knowing that my reservation was in A/C she refused due to fear of penalty. She invited me to join her in unreserved seat till Ranchi and advised me to move to my seat after there and before she could say a final goodbye to me and move to unreserved seat,I agreed.


In the train, both of us managed to get a seat. Fortunately or unfortunately we were again sitting diagonally to each other. In the class, we used to have great time with friends of our own kind(gender) on benches which were diagonally placed. She used to sit on 2nd bench in the windows row, and myself on the 2nd last bench in the door row. So what has changed? In the class, we used to look in the same direction...in the direction of the board, now we were looking in opposite direction to each other. Also, the physical separation which used to be somewhat more than 7000mms or more in the class has now reduced to less than 0.001 kms , but still we were unable to commence our chat as people interested in piffling talks were relatively more close to both of us than we were to each other. Actually, while journeying by train everyone tends to become a piffle lover and get involved in the fiddle-faddle, the other best option is to kip in order to escape desolation. Just like life can either be accepted or changed. If it is not accepted, it must be changed and if it cannot be changed, it must be accepted.


Meanwhile, she was comfortable sharing only friendly gestures and smile occasionally but on my part, I was getting peeved. With no other piece of writing except a book "The Great Indian Novel" by Sashi Tarror along with me (which has now become an obvious part of my luggage every time I travel, just in case, someday it will have deep encroachment on my head & I may invest time reading that) to read, I had no option but to read her mind. I didn’t know what happened, maybe I mesmerized her, and soon she was busy catching some z’s.


So, once again I went musing & trying to find answers what led her remark “tum badal gaye ho”. Once again another introspection phase began for me. Another phase bcoz I always self-contemplate…think think think….dats what I do always.
This is actually the longest journey---the journey inside me. All these thoughts inspired me to write a blog. Oh, “blog”…this is first evidence to prove to you (through this screen media only) that yes, I’m changing. Earlier I would rarely share my personal experience(Good or bad) with even my best friends and now I do blog those experience for even a stranger to read it. I have morphed from an introvert to an ambivert, form a shy child to a more assertive and confident adult. In school i might not even have spoken more than two words in two years but today i walk up to her and get myself reintroduced and may be this is the change she might be referring to.


I defer to the fact that from facial appearances alone, two things have changed. I’ve started to shave (though once or twice in a week) and secondly, my hairdo, which I can now manage with my hands alone. This was the main reason behind this change…I wished I could arrange them without the use of comb and something called mirror, which is the only thing you have that lets you know- what you are?....not just ostensibly but much more than that. You can look into your own eyes and come to know what they have to say….what all questions they ask when they see someone. I’ve got this habit of looking into the mirror for long durations trying to read my eyes.


But am I the lone person affected by the ‘kaalchakra’?......surely not. People and public around me have changed. “Things don’t change, we change”. But things around me have also changed. Also my manner of looking at things have changed. Everyone, everything is changing every time. Only change is constant, every other thing is variable.

Now I don’t hate the rainy season which did not allow me to go out and play, in fact I sometimes wish to be soaked up in rain. Even summer is not bad. And winters as always is very pleasant, with or without the sunshine…as I say sometimes…”dhoop is cool”. Actually, I want to feel everything….the chill of winter, the heat of summer, Drenched monsoon and the ever youthful spring, and their smell, their flavour….everything.


Now everything seems beautiful around me….the trees, the breeze, the hills & the sky….the children, the birds, the grass, the flowers…the people, their talks, their queries, their feelings. Sometimes, I wonder…these things were not around me ever before…but now they are here for me to live, to cherish, to admire, to smile and to think.
I am no longer a cricket nutter, I don’t barf while passively consuming redolent smokes of cigarettes or diesel, now I don’t get up late…neither I go to bed early, nor do I burn the midnight oil for studies. Now I love to watch movies alone in my room, think, contemplate, cry and smile, live with emotions.


Now I am understanding meanings of friendship, love, care & affection. I always ponder on these….what I’ve got, what I’ve given, what I should get, and what I yearn for.
Now I love talking, sharing, be caring & concerned, observing very closely & enjoying someone’s company, giving respect to someone, doing something for someone…..& it continues on……


Meanwhile, the train stopped somewhere around Muri jn. and was not moving for more than half an hour….& she(my school classmate - if you have forgotten whom i am referring to by now) has finally come alive. The person sitting right in front of me was enjoying ‘jhaal murhi’, which I think was too jhal for him and too sweet for me as he went to the door to have some cool breeze alongwith that jhaal stuff. So, I immediately occupied the vacant seat to further reduce the separation between both of us by sqrt(2) times as now we were not diagonally seated but on the ends of a side of an imaginary square.

So, once again we started our chat.We verbalized about our new friends, life and masti in college, tensions in jobs, our new hobbies & interests. I was surprised when she told me she didn't remember when she had a chat with any of our classmates in general or any guy in particular. After making her learned about what kind of life I live here in down southern part of India, once again she mouthed “tum kaafi badal gaye ho”.


Finally we were in Ranchi about one hour late than the scheduled time. It was time to finally say goodbye. She bid me good bye with the promise to see me again and I went back to my introspection to find if I have changed and the journey within me was the longest of all my journey.

When are you getting married.

I have reached a stage in my life where everyone around me is:

1. married.
2. getting married.
3. planning to get married.

I go to my workplace and most of my colleagues are married (some even have kids). It gets very difficult to relate to them when they talk about domesticity and household stuff. Some of my best friends are married and the topic of our conversation is always about my marriage. Even though they are my best friends, they sometimes get on my nerves when they start pestering me. I mean I am happy for them because they are happy this way, but other than that nothing makes me happy about the whole situation. The question, "When are you getting married?" is the bane of my life. The more I run away from it, the more it chases me!!!!

It still amazes me how rude some people can be. When are you getting married is not, by any means, an innocuous or polite question. And yet it’s completely socially acceptable. Even if we excuse the blatant invasion of privacy there are issues with the semantics. Firstly there is the “when” of it which implies there is no choice not to - it’s pretty clear that this is not a question of “if” after all. Secondly there is the fact that the questioner even has to ask the question, which implies that you’re taking too long (the poor, frustrated souls, I really feel for them). This questions belongs, along with its sister when are you having kids, to a society where people had no choices in the matter - matrimony and childbirth were inevitable - and frankly, they had nothing better to talk about. I for one think we have moved past that and our social manners should evolve as such. Unfortunately it appears that I’m in the minority on this one.

Recently I visited my friends and few of my relatives on a vacation and this question was bombarded on me like a cluster bomb. Earlier only my friends use to quiz me over this now they are joined by their wives too. Recently I met on of my friend who repeated me this question. Science he himself was not married i was amused and just gave a smile. He again repeated the same question with more seriousness and a look of concern and I laughed this time. "Why are you laughing, this is not a joke" he asked. "Exactly" was my reply.He ended up giving me a lecture for nearly 3 hours on how to search a suitable partner through match making sites and classified matrimonial on newspaper, the pros and cons of each medium and which medium would be best suited for me. He even took his laptop and started asking me for my personal details to upload on a matrimonial website. When I tried to avoid him he even put a question mark on my libido. I said i was absolutely normal and fine he challenged me to prove it by getting married. I started believing that being single was a sin and I was the biggest sinner of all time by not making any attempt to get married.

Even the worse was when i visit my native village. Being a village, the average marriage is much below the legal marriage age in India. A village where a boy ten years younger to me has a kid or two. And i become the talk of the town, sorry village.The village elders even cured my parents for not getting me married.Wherever I went to my village I could here mummers as I passed.. Looks like some strangers..Who's is he..he is son of Mr so and so..is he married?? I have a Hutch connection and their network could not follow me to my village(as they claim it to be) but this question did follow me where ever i went. A bunch of my so called uncles and brothers in my village surrounded me over a bonfire at night and fired the same question to me. They encouraged me to get married in a way they would have encouraged a widow to commit Sati. Seeing no response from me over the marriage issue(I thought this issue to be a too personal to discussed with anyone and everyone and being non responsive my shut them up) they even asked if I had any female in my life who was fulfilling my physical needs. They even accused me of getting a paid service which according to their imagination was easily available in big cities and one of them even advised me to be aware of AIDS. Now I really felt the need of a fully loaded AK 47 to reduce the population of my village by a dozen.

The frequency with which this question has been put on me makes me feel as if I am the last living being on earth who is not married and everyone is eagerly waiting for me to get married. And the more I am questioned about this, the more I want to scream at the top of my lungs that have not scheduled my marriage, my future as yet. And I am genuinely not losing my sleep over it.

One day I asked my sister (who of course is married) that why is everybody around me so bothered about my marriage, she just smiled and told me that people in our part of the world start thinking that something is wrong with a person, if he isn't engaged or married by late twenties. Something is off, definitely, that the matrimonial alliance has not taken place as yet.


That got me thinking!!!!!! Why do so many people share this point of view? Even my peers and friends. Don't we all belong to the same generation? Shouldn't we give priority to our career and financial independence? In the age where so many marriages are ending up in divorces, shouldn't we take our time and make sure we aren't rushing into anything. If making a rational decision and taking time to choose my life partner delays my marriage for some time more, so be it. I'm glad its happening this way.

I realize I live in a society where marriage is seen with as much necessity as a good education and decent job, but not everyone around here or people I know marry young. Are they also subjected to this same question?????

And its not that everyone who got married ended up happily ever after. I have seen some bitter breakups and ugly divorce battles which follow. But at the same time, I have seen some beautiful marriages and couples living out their dreams. That what gives me encouragement (because that is what I want) and the guts to face this question from the world.

So while I'm still taking time, , I suppose I'm going to just fend off this questions with a smile and a laugh, reassuring family and relatives, peers and friends, colleagues and acquaintances that no, there is nothing wrong with me, my horoscope or my kismet. I am just moving forward at my own pace in that general direction, and I am OK with that. And that's what really matters. And the day that I do decide to get married, the world and its sister will know it. So let it be, for the time being at least.

The lost INNOCENCE of Little Shaitan

In one of the recent conversation with a friend, we came up with the idea of writing about myself. I am not that old to write an autobiography, neither I can compare myself to the stature of Nelson Mandela or any of those great leaders. But somehow the rich and colorful experiences of my life compelled me to write a few words about myself.
In search for the exploration of a relevant topic, I landed on my name itself. I was names Santan (Meaning - saint) by my grandfather. I started growing up my mischief also grew along with me. As a child I was tooo talkative and people enjoyed the wholesome entertainment I provided to them at an early age. Poor people... Think about the days when there was no television and less cinema theaters, people had to rely on little Santan for their entertainment. My parents were little bit worried when they found that i was indeed growing crazier and crankier by the day and even at night (cos my bed wetting skills grew to new design heights every night.) But that was a long time back. I don't do it anymore. Going by my mischief, people around me started calling me Shaitan (A Satan or a naughty boy). Not too pleased with my new name my father decided to change my name itself. He thought of a name that was difficult to pronounce or distort, I was named Mritunjay – another name of lord Shiva in Indian mythology.

I do not know what my parents thought when they named me Mritunjay. I am sure my childhood cries never reminded them of the cuckoo bird singing on the tree top. I never had the audacity to pose this question to them.. So, at the age of three I was renamed with a name that has lasted ever since - Mritunjay. Interestingly there are several stories behind this name - some say that this name is suggested by a Bengali neighbour, Some others adhere to the mythology theory. As I have evolved from a child to an adult so has my name and today by the name which people call me I can identify the various groups (Childhood friends, neighbor, school pals, college mates, colleagues, relatives, clients etc etc ) they belong to and the various ways they are related to me. Anyways, the fact is that I do not care how people around me arrived at all these names. Now I am so used to these names that when somebody calls me Mritunjay, I stare around to look for this new person Mritunjay.

Now back to the life of little Santan, The change in name from Santan to Shaitan and then to Mritunjay did change the original Shaitan or not is debatable. The life of Mr. Shantan starts in a small town in the Eastern part of India. This small town had a steel plant and the entire population in the town used to work for the steel plant. Everything used to revolve around the steel plant. Regular sirens (for the various shift workers) of the steel plant were a part of the common day life. In fact we were so used to them that our daily schedule was based on these sirens - getup at the second siren, go to school by the third and so on. The others members of Mr. Shaitan family will be introduced as we pace along with the story. At this juncture we will introduce his father. As one can guess, he too works for the steel plant. Apart from his job at steel plant he has interests in gardening which he has successfully pursued till the arrival of his son, Mr. Shaitan. The uprooted chrysanthemum plants and the plucked rose petals were always a source of mystery for him. Of course he never realized that these strange events started soon after his able son started crawling on his feet and hands. The gray folds of his brain never were able to relate the uprooted plants with Mr. little Shaitan’s crawling event. But one day as he was leaving for his office, he was blessed with the divine enlightenment - the mystery was solved. The culprit was found, barely able to crawl to the grass carpet, tumbling along the grass to the rose garden. Somehow managing to sit up and reach with his bare hands to the rose shrub (the same rose shrub that fetched his father the second prize in the last flower show contest) and successfully demolishing the pride of the shrub and his father – the big red rose. The rose had been a source of pleasure for so many people; his mother must have craved for it, for being in her flower vase. Never theless, these thoughts seemed to have least bothered the young toddler. He was all set to explore the rose petals, taking them off the flower one by one. The unlucky petals making their way into his mouth. Having satisfied his curiosity for the rose flowers, he moved towards the new mysterious small plants - the name of which he still does not know. This move was certainly not welcomed by his father, who interrupted his curriculum. To this date Mr. Little Shaitan is sure that the interruption by his father was a small step for him but a big setback for humanity. Alas the human race lost another Darwin. Had it not been that interruption, all the sources of pains in life would have been solved. What a big loss for the entire human race? Amazingly, people lament for losing a penny but not for losing a Darwin. Mr. Shaitan defied all the external sources that prevented him from becoming Mr. Darwin and decided to something big for humanity.

What a noble thought at that tender age.

The next big step that he decided to do for humanity was to go for a major economic reform. Never did he realize the need to go to a formal school and learn the concepts of economics. At that age he must not have even heard of that subject. He decided to take away all the pains of the entire human kind which seemed to be rotating around money. Father used to go to the plant just because he needed money to support his family. Mr. Kumar next door gave the same reason for all his hard work. So did everybody else that little Mr. Shaitan knew. Having generalized the problem that every problem was somehow related to money - from the trip to a hill station to the bread in the family - he went looking for a solution. It may have taken Lord Buddha several years to understand the pains of life, but this young lad took days to learn it. Not only that he had a remedy for this as well. Never did his parents realized that they gave birth to a genius, well neither did the parents of all the celebrities knew. Coming back to Mr. Little Shaitan’s remedy for economy - the solution was simple, in fact so simple that it amazed Mr. Shaitan that why had not somebody else thought of it before. When a sapling of sugarcane can give rise to a well grown sugarcane why can't a penny result in a well grown tree full of money. Being sure of his hypothesis and with full believe in mother Earth, Mr. Shaitan decided to go ahead with this endeavor. But it was not a simple expedition. There were a lot of problems. The first and the biggest problem was that how to get the money to plant. Being the non-earning member of the family and the fact that the money for the daily expenditures was controlled by his mother put him in a difficult situation. But then where there is a will there is a way. Abiding by this philosophy he committed the first sin of his life (well he must have forgotten his earlier sins, which included wetting his bed and other such activities) - stealing. But remember he did this for the general benefit of the mankind. He stole for a noble cause; his purity was in no comparison less to Brutus when he killed Caesar. One afternoon when his mother was sleeping, he quickly slipped into her room - took her wallet and pinched away some money. The efficiency and preplanning of this stealing is worth admiring. It took him a couple of days of patient observation to see where does his mother keep the money, what is her daily routine and what is the best time to take that money out. Well, after all these planning, there was hardly any possibility of a failure. Having accomplished his first feat, Mr. Shaitan went ahead with the rest of the plan for which he did not have to break any human defined moral limits. In the next couple of days he selected a spot to plant the money which was chosen next to the rose bed. This selection was made on the basis that this was an unused piece of land and it was next to the rose bed, so 'borrowing' some fertilizers from the rose bed would be a simple job. The intent was to borrow some fertilizers from the rose bed and then later, when the tree had money, a part of the money will be used in buying fertilizers for the rose bed. Although there was no interest rate for the borrowed fertilizers but it was understood that the return will be more than what was borrowed. What a perfect symbiotic relationship. Now it was a regular day to day affair for Mr. Shaitan to water his new plants and supply them with fertilizers. It was another source of mystery for his father - the same person who used to pluck flowers seems to be totally transformed. Till date he must be mesmerized when he thinks about this. Like every noble intent this expedition resulted in a failure, the money tree never came up. The loan borrowed from the rose bed were never paid, in turn Mr. Shaitan apologized to the rose shrubs.

Now when I look back at these simple stories, I feel ashamed - not because the money plant never came up but for having lost that innocence and purity. How pure where those feelings to relieve the human kind of all the sorrows. Now I am a part of the society that believes in self-service. A society that on the outside asks you to care about others but is structured in a manner so as to promote friction between individuals. Nobody had asked me to think about human-kind when I was three - I wanted to do it on my own, that was purity. Alas that purity is long gone, probably buried with the money tree that I planted several years back. Sometimes when I stand in front of the sea facing the sea breeze, I feel like the little Mr. Shaitan is saying something from the distant past - I do not know what he is saying, is he cursing me of having lost the greatest possession of my life (my innocence) or is he trying to console me or is he laughing at me being washed by the wave of this cruel society. I do not know what he is saying, as the breeze never say anything, just reminds me of the distant past. I hope I can get a glimpse of little Mr Shaitan sometime inside me.

Childhood...my refusal to grow up.

When I was a child, I always wanted to race with time and fast-forward the process of growing up. In fact, I do not remember much from the age of 11 or 12 because most of it was spent speculating what it would be like to be 16, 18 or 20. Now, at thirty, when friends gather together the moment I hear anyone talking about his childhood, I take a lead in dscribing my story of childhood innocence. I sometimes feel like I bore them with my childhood story. I try to convince myself that each person's life is his or her own unique story and mine was meant to be written this way.

One of the reasons for this enormous desire to "grow up", I recognize now, was to have my parents take me seriously. I would fake unnatural maturity and courage, all for the sole purpose of gaining an entry into that forbidden realm that my parents seemed to shut me out of on the grounds that I wouldn't understand. Not that my parents didn't give me love or attention. In fact, for most parts of my childhood, I was a spoilt little brat who got what I wanted. But what I wanted was somewhat different.

I suppose I was a child who didn't want to be treated as a child. I wished my parents would confide more important things to me and entrust me with responsibilities. Whenever I tried to help out with household chores, I was rebuked and sent off to play. When I tried to ask my mother why she was upset, she would tell me; I wouldn't understand such things. It was perhaps a sheer sense of helplessness that governed childhood that made me anxious for adulthood.

A particularly observant adult had once come up to me and said that adults are just as helpless as kids. It's just that they have perfected the art of pretending that they are in control. I was embarrassed at being discovered and looked at him as if I didn't know what he was talking about, quickly moving away to hide my blush.

Now, standing at the core of that much coveted domain, I recoil and wonder whether I really want to cross over. Adults teach children, almost on a default mechanism, that one must never lie. The major difference between an adult and a child, from where i stand, is that a child asks questions and an adult simply learns to overlook things knowing that if all questions were to be answered, a whole established system of norms would be turned on it's head. Perhaps that is why most revolutionaries are young and most status-quoits accrue certain seniority, both in terms of age as well as in terms of rank. However, we come across many revolutionists, disillusioned from their cause and dejected into poetry as time passes. Adulthood seems to be synonymous with a certain acceptance of things as they are.

Perhaps fighting the tide seems easier to me now, than it will to a future self. If i were to the read this very post years from now, would I smile off my infantile notions, or sigh with a sense of despondency and quickly turn away from it? Or would I read it with a sense of accomplishment at having managed the difficult feat of keeping the child alive in me?

Having said all these, I am reminded of the story of my grandmother and me (I call it 'the story', because i have no recollection of it, only repeated recountals from various relatives. ) It all began ( for me) when i asked my mother the reason behind my extraordinary term of addressal for my grandma: the vernacular word 'Lathi' which translates to a stick made of bamboo. She explained to me that when I used to be tiny, I asked a lot of questions and it so happened that one day when I was out in the gardens with my grandma, I had exhausted her with innumerable "what is that?" and "why is it like that?". So when I turned to her with a bewildered look at having seen the bamboo stilts being used at a nearby house under renovation, she said what roughly translates into, "That's a 'Lathi'; and if you don't stop asking questions, that's what I am going hit you with!" For some reason the animated gestures with which she said so, struck me as funny and I burst into a fit of chuckle. Then on, until the day she breathed her last and for that matter, even now, she has been my 'Lathi'! Perhaps, it is even apt, for I never stopped asking questions for as long as she was with me.

This very Lathi of mine, wizened with age, was to say to an older me, " don't ask so many questions. A person, who questions so much, is never happy in life."

Until now I have not conformed to this axiomatic advice of her. I know it was given with the best of intentions and with a sense of tender protectiveness that I defied so often when she was alive and miss so dearly in her absence.

It would be presumptuous of me to say there is no truth in the statement of the lady who had witnessed the better part of four generations in her lifetime. However, at this juncture, when i am half way into the world of adults with an unsure, trembling foot and with no Lathi to pick me up and sail me over, the way she did with all other thresholds when I was a child, I pose a definitive question (yet again!): what is adulthood?

On one hand, when you conform to societal norms to be accepted into the realm of adulthood, what you are giving up is the child in you who urges you to ask questions and know 'why?' In other words you are belittling the importance of asking questions. If you do this, you find ratification from the majority and sense of secure well-being. It is not that if you take this path, you will not face strife and pain. But what will happen is, that you will notice that most people are party to that same strife and will derive your solace from that.

On the other hand, if you go the other way, you are dismissing the idea that adulthood has anything to do with conformity at all. What you are then asserting is that the act of asking questions maybe child's play, but to be able to actually answer them encompasses true adulthood. In this case, you would probably have to undergo more strife than the first case, but you would be better adept at dealing with this strife because you would know the cause of it, instead of trying to fight off a ghost that you are not allowed to name.

Again, i really can't say whether these are youthful theories or whether they shall stand the test of time. All I know is that if adulthood requires me to give up asking questions, I am going to be in denial for a long time to come.Is it a disillusioned acceptance of the state of things? Or does it entail a sense of responsible self-reliance, wherein, you make your own choices and bear their consequences entirely by yourself? I just pray that the child within me neaver dies.