Everest

Everest

My connection at Amsterdam airport was a bit delayed, usually such things upset me, but this time I was happy. It gave me a bit more time to spend with my childhood friend Vishal. We were catching up at the business lounge between our connection. Its been a while since we saw each other. Work, wives, home, and kids, had kept both of busy leaving hardly much time for time for usual friend gossip or activities. Catching up with friends is even harder when friends are separated by intercontinental flight. 

While sipping free champagne, thanks to KLM business lounge, we remembered last time we had fun together as friends. That was before either of us had got married. It was, here in Amsterdam, when we took a journey to Eastern Europe. And probably became first Indians to Climb Mt. Sniezka in Poland. Well to be precise between Polish and Czech border. On the way to Sniezka we did lot of other crazy thing in Prague and made some interesting friends. Lets leave that part for another time. Memories of sipping warm potato soup on the Cold mountain and enjoying the frozen lake beneath us was one of the mesmerising moments of the whole trip. We remembered enjoying potato pancakes with cream and yogurt, in a road side bistro, while comparing it with Indian potato tiki en-route the Czech country side. That was quite a trip and we had so much fun from Karlovyvary all the way to Sniezka and back.  Now family life had made often hard to find time for fun. We also remembered our old Roorkee days when time was not a constraint. 

As we were cherishing the past memories Vishal got distracted by a tall beautiful blonde Dutch girls, who has just come and sat on the table opposite to ours. I asked him “ what you ogling at big lion ? “ Vishal replied, “ I am checking her T-Shirt”. “ You really want me to believe that ?” I knew he cannot be serious. Must be some things else,  needless to say, I know him for a long time. Vishal said, “ is that Everest or what”? That did got me curious. You know what I am thinking now. So I turned to check her out. Well first time in years, he was serious, girl was wearing a T-shirt with Everest. There was a beautiful picture of Everest and underneath it said “ I have been here”. I asked him, “ what are you thinking ?” Vishal “ if She could go why can’t we ?” Our plans have been spontaneous many time. Even the trip to Eastern Europe was a spontaneous one. I also echoed his consent. At the same moment KLM announced in its typical rude tone, “ Vishal Singh report to gate no 31 in 5 minutes otherwise we will offload you luggage”. My connection was delayed but apparently Vishal’s was running on time. We parted with this thought in mind. Everest was calling. 

Next few weeks we shared messages over Whatsapp to ensure that seriousness was still there. In the meantime discussion about our plans also were shared with some very closed friends from college. First to join was Kunal, most experienced and adventurous, among us. Kunal left Roorkee straight to US for studies and was on his was to become Americans soon. Saini, most physically active, also joined in. Saini was the youngest among us and I wanted him to join. He and I share a secret and I wanted to know his side of the story. 

Then four of us spent next few weeks trying to convince Chaudhary to join in. Few years back Chaudhary, Saini and Vishal had taken a trekking trip to the lake of death in the Indian side of Himalayas reaching an altitude of 20,000 ft. The trip was excellent fun with great stories we heard of Chaudhary’s chased by wild dogs on the way to the lake. It was important that Chaudhary joins us. He has been an important part of our group during the college days. I even tried to convince him meeting him on my return trip to Delhi from Doha. All our efforts were in vain. Chaudhary managed to Injure him self few weeks before the trip and any hope to take him with us were out. Our plan did suffer from him not joining as we had shortened it to accommodate his schedule. We didn’t thought much about it it then but it was going to haunt us later. 

Training 

Once the pack was decided, it was time to start training to see if we had, in us, what it takes to be on Everest. Next few weeks were spent to train a bit and exchange each others training schedule and tips. We had decided that once we all start to stick to a training schedule then only we would finalise our plans. We all read about training for Everest trek and watched YouTube videos to familiarise ourselves with the terrain and the beast it self. Soon into our training rhythm we all started to realise that it is going to be a challenge. We were all finding it hard to stick to the training schedule and effects of our ageing bodies on our training were starting to show left right and centre. Only, Saini, was really holding it well. He was helped by his beautiful Americans women co-worker, who were almost working like sexy cheerleaders for him. He posted several pictures of training with young ladies, with fantastic bodies, on the Whatsapp group we had created to keep each other up to date. In contrast to his training mine was like walking in the Park. I was living in Doha and in the summer heat of Doha it was hard to do reasonably good hikes. So I sticked to treadmill and stair stepper. Occasionally I tried to take stairs to my office, which was on the 15th floor. Vishal started his training by trying to have long fast walks around the beautiful garden and suburbs of London. Some days passing Thames on side and Big Bang on other one day. Other days he walked through the green park gardens around Buckingham palace. He tried to minimise his time. In between, over weekend, he tried few small hikes in the country side. Kunal tried his best to get out of LA for his training and often over the weekend did few hikes with another friend, Virdi, who was also getting a bit inclined to join us. 

It took us all about two months to finally find a training routine and a rhythm. We could start to feel our rusted bodies responding to the training. Our stamina was slowly but steadily improved. We followed up our training with routine video conference calls, thanks to the techie Kunal, and shared our experiences to help each other. We also discussed different equipment and pieces of clothing we would need on the trip and divided who will be getting what. Kunal was made in-charge of buying sleeping bags and camping gear. Saini was to bring nutrition bars and minerals. Vishal was going to bring filming equipments and some additional camping gear. I was to bring rechargeable battery packs and some additional compact food for carry on. Our training continued and discussion started to focus more on selection of trekking and traveling days and booking our travel. Lots of back and forth arithmetic calculations were done, well finally we were putting our college degrees and excel skills to use, in figuring out when we should start our travel and how much time we would need based on our trainings and body conditions. Sani maintained the spreadsheet and shared if with us on occasion. He was going to keep track of all the expenses, which were to be shared at the end. It also helped us figure out, why US tax department is employing him. We all agreed it must be his excel skills. 

The Guide

As we felt more comfortable, that we could possibly pull it off, we also started discuss the planning and choosing a suitable tour operator and a guide who would eventually take us up to the Everest base camp. Without proper guides, who could sense the weather and knows local language, and sherpas to carry your luggage and equipments up the mountain it impossible to make the trek to the base camp. We spent some time finding right guide with a reasonable priced tour operator. Kunal and Saini found one over the Internet based in US. We had few phone calls with him and soon we all paid a deposit and booked our tour guide with a US based Nepalese tour operator. 

We had few calls with our guide, Shyam, over Skype. Shyam was a good salesman, he sold us an amazing Everest base camp trek over Skype. He appeared to know what he was talking. He spoke in fluent americanised English, which made us trust him even more. It amazing how someone’s communication skills mislead you.

Whether the trek is going to be successful or not depends a lot on the guide and tour operator. Did we knew it before hand ? Off-course not as we were going to learn it hard way in coming months. Our guide was anything but for sure not a guide. We were going to discover it too. 

The Flight

Arrival dates were decided in next few calls. We all agreed to aim for a quite period and stable weather. After looking a numerous possibilities it was agreed to have our trek during winter months of Nov 2018. It will be cold but weather will be stable and we will find the trail relatively empty. We all would get a chance to enjoy and we hoped to have all the mountain for ourselves. Tickets were booked, food, medicine, equipment finalised, and finally bags were packed. We said good bye to our wives and kids. And just before we were about to leave from our respective places to meet in Delhi we had a surprise addition of one more college friend Virdi. He was filling up for Chaudhary, who was not injured and resting at home. We all arrived at Delhi international airport. It was our starting point for the trek. Vishal arrived from London, I took my flight from Doha, Kunal from LA, Saini flew a week before and was in Delhi and so was Virdi. We all met at Delhi international airport. It was a great joyful moment. We were all together finally after months of hard work, planning and training.  We all looked fit and took a group picture, thanks to a beautiful girl, at the statue of Natraj in the centre of Arrival hall at the Delhi international airport. Excitement was in air we were all waiting for the moment we will be in Kathmandu. Soon our flight boarding gates were announced and we all headed to board the royal Nepalese airline. 

Flight was about 2 hours long. It gave us plenty of time to talk and share our training experience. We laughed at funny things we been doing in past few months to get in shape for the trek. We all were very happy. When we were up in the air, pilot announced that we could see Mt. Everest to our left. We all rushed to the window seat, where Vishal was seated and took some selfies with Mt. Everest shining out from the aeroplane window. Kunal took his go pro and started filming. It was fantastic moment, which got captured on the film. In the meantime beautiful Nepalese air hostesses brought some snacks for us to enjoy with our view. While we all tried to enjoy the view with our snacks, Vishal was trying to enjoy the air hostesses instead, that is typical of him. Beautiful woman and Vishal are always attracted to each other. 

The Arrival 

As the wheels of the plane touched tarmac vaporising fragments of water on it we all rejoiced and cheered for finally landing in Kathmandu after months of wait. The Kathmandu Airport is set in a very scenic environment surrounded with mountains all around. We took few groups pictures as soon as we disembarked the aircraft. Kunal was filming with his go pro camera, when one of the security staff politely asked us to move away from the aircraft and proceed to the arrival hall. We walked passed narrow corridors of the arrival hall made in red brick building. As soon as we reached closer to the immigration counter we hit a huge wall of tourist from all over the world waiting for payments of their visas. The scene at the immigration was rather chaotic it too, us a while to figure out that a separate immigration counter existed for travellers from India. Thank Goodness for that it was nice to escape the long immigration queue. After passing through immigration we made our way to the arrival hall to collect our checked-in bags. The arrival hall was more chaotic than the immigration counter and smell of human urine was all over the place. Our first impression had turned from scenic beauty of mountains seen from the sky to the chaotic reality on the grounds. “Welcome to Kathmandu signs” was written on the exit gate as we left the airport to find out Guide. That’s when we met Vishnu - our real guide. It important to dedicate a paragraph on Vishnu. He was going to play an important role later on. 

Vishnu The Real Guide

It has turned out that Shyam has duped us. He was not present at the arrival gate but we were greeted by his cousin Vishnu - well a distant cousin. It also became clear to us that Shyam our guide or what we thought was our guide was just a middleman based in US, who has never been to Everest himself. He was a smooth talker who get the client and hands them over to his extended family in Nepal at the arrival hall. So hence we have our real guide Vishnu. Now Vishnu is tall as per Nepalis standard, dark in complexion had deep settled eyes and triangular face.  He wore North face jacket and lowered and had a sherpa hat over his head. Vishnu greeted us politely and soon it became clear to us that his English was limited and he didn’t spoke a word of Hindi. Kunal tried to make some desperate calls to Shyam on the number he had but it went un answered. Shyam’s job was done we were passed on to new guide. 

American Dream

I was multi-tasking, jumping on the sofa and watching tv at the same time. Before I could realize I was in a free fall and landed on the table with my cheek to the corner of the table. Immediately I started crying and my mom and dad came rushing from the kitchen, they were angry at me for not taking care while playing and worried if I injures myself badly. 

Luckily I only had a bruise on my face and nothing much. Next day innocently my mother sent me to the school. She didnt know much at that time that things will take an ugly turn. 

Two years back my parents brought me america chasing their american dream. My dad was working for a big software company doing long hours, while my mom was struggling between dropping me to school and getting herself a degree in libraryian course at thr central library in Orange county. 

Past two years have been an emotional roller coaster for me. Leaving my friends and grandparents in India and heading to a far away land where in schools I was fed patsa and pizza instead of traditonal dal roti subhi I had grown up with. Making friends was not easy either my enghlish had a funny accent, as I was told, pupil of my class had difficulty understanding me. I liked he time as at home I had more freedom, given my parents busy schedule, I enjoyed watching Indian movies and cartoon without any fear of being made fun of. 

I am not sure how much my parents were enjoying their american dream. They had almost no time for each other. My father even working on weekends to prove himself to his american counter parts and my mother struggling between home, school and university lectures. 

Well they were so busy to have given a second thought about my bruised cheek and that it could cause a terrible mess in our house and will turn everything upside down for us. 

I reached school and when I was into my second lecture, head miss Fluffy Daiels came to me and asked what happened to my face. I told her I fell down. Then she asked me if my parents were angry, I said yes they were angry and worried. She didnt catch the worried part thanks to my so called funny accent. She then left and I continued with my lecture. 

During recess I was asked to come to the head miss office and as I entered I was surrounded by some men and women in blue uniforms. They wanted to ask me about the incident again. I told them what happened. Then they asked me if my parents fight. I innocently told them sometimes they do. I was too small to grasp the consequences of my answers. At the end of one hours of question I was told that I will not go home today but to a different place, which will be better than home and lots of toys. I asked what about my parents. I was told not to worry they will come to the same place. I got excited to go this new place. I was thinking of playing and toys. Upto this point I was not at all aware of what was going to happen to me. I was taken to place of which I have faint memories. It was a big house in the middle of no where. There were few other younger kids and there were two adults, whom we could only call Sir and Madam. 

This house was counter opposite of my house. Although there were many toys, everytging else was neat and tidy. Anything I took, I was told, I had to keep exactly at the same place. Timing when food was served was very strict and I only had one hr. for each meal. I was given a room with another younger boy who cried all night to see his mom. I was told my parents will come to see me tomorrow. I was waiting to see them let them know that I will not behave badly again so that I don’t have to be punished like this and I really wanted to go home with them. 

I waited all day and finally around 7 o clock in evening my mother showed up with some friend of hers. She looked completely awful her hairs were everywhere it appeared she had been crying all night and day. When she saw me she could not hold herself and gave me a tight hug and started crying again. I asked her again where is dady. She told me he was too busy at work and will come another day. Reality though was very different the night before my father was arrested on suspicion of beating me and he was in prison waiting for his court hearing to be released on a bail bond. I was told about it later. 

My mother was allowed to stay with me for two hours and when she was leaving I told her that I will be a good boy please don’t leave me here. She could not control herself and started crying again. Her friend consoled me and told that soon they will take me home. 

What makes us successful ?

I have been thinking about this question for some time. What defines or what makes people succeed in life. If I think about all my friends whom I grew up with in Roorkee most of us are now relatively successful in one way or another. It often occurs to me is it because we all had at a certain level an upbringing, which was relatively equal in some sense. Lot of us went to the same school. Played same games and watched similar movies of our time. Our parents worked in same office and had different jobs. From being Director of the institute to driver of the director in the institute. How come kids coming from such a diverse background at home end up being equally successful in their adulthood. What is that thing or things, which has made this happen ?

Was it our school ?

Was it the neighborhood we lived in ?

Was it the uniqueness of the time we were growing up ?

Or was it combination of all of these things?

Were we unknowingly part of human experiment of success?

Lets me list all my friends from school and see what they are doing now. 

Myself -  working in a leading oil and gas company 

Dr. P Singh - Director of public health 

S. Khan - Captain of a supply ship

R. Poswal, R.Kumar, B.Dhabal, D.Asthana, A.Bhargava- software professionals 

A.Pal - Owner of a shop

Banana Island

Banana Island 

About a year back my father took our whole family to Banana Isalnd. Its a small island in shape of a Banana about 30 KM off Doha.  The most fun part were the water rides, a lot of sand on the clean beaches. I really enjoyed it and wanted to go there again. My father promised that if I will be a good boy at home and school he would take me to the Island. 

Finally, the day arrived when we were going to the Island again. My mother picked me up just a little bit early from school and we were ready at home waiting for my father to come so that we all could go together to take the boat to the Island from the boat terminal. When my father arrived we all left and were greeted at the boat terminal. I like being there as they offer nice tea and some dates. As I saw the boat I could not hide my excitement anymore. I really wanted to be on it. As we boarded the boat we could we a bit of clouds gathering on the sea. Boat started to rumble and soon we were cruising on the water. I was stuck to the window watching waves splashing on to the boat window. Some big waves hit the boat and the boat started to rock making us worried for few minutes after which everything was normal. 

We reach the Island and were greeted with a bit of traditional singing and dancing. I wanted to head straight to the beach and I did so while my mother, father and sister headed to check themselves into the hotel on the beach. I was may be playing on the beach for about half an hour when my mother, father, and sister joined me on the beach. I built some sand castles and watched the waves smashing it down. I enjoyed chasing my sister on the beach and throwing sand on my father for fun. My mother was busy collecting shells like always and I helped her. While collecting shells we could see airplanes landing and taking off at the faintly visible airport in some distance from the beach. Weather was so nice that how time passed I didn’t realised. In distance sky started to change colour and sun started to dip below the horizon. Doha skyline started turning bright with coloured lights on tall buildings. Beautiful coloured boats started to slowly appear on the sea floating randomly from one place to another. As I was enjoying pouring water into my pool, which I had carved out into the sand, my dad asked me to finish up and head to our hotel room. 

Inside the hotel room my sister and I jumped into the bath and had great fun playing with foam bubbles and floating toys. We played in the bath tub until we were exhausted. My mom pulled out my sister and wiped her clean and fed her and she went straight to sleep. I still had some energy left. My mother had prepared some nice soup and we all sat in the balcony enjoying the view of the beautiful sea and reflections of light on it with the pleasant sound of sea waves crashing onto the land. I was tried and my dad placed a blanket over me and I don’t realised when I ended up sleeping. Late at night suddenly I was woken up by sound of rattling leaves of the gulmohor tree. As I looked around I saw a kid sitting on the tree branch looking at me smiling. I asked him who was he and what was he doing so late up on the tree. He told me he is the friendly ghost marvan. 

Public Speaking

First time I did any public speaking I was around 7 or 8 years old. There was an Essay competition organised at  my fathers office. My father gave my name hoping I might win it. I think he was more motivated about it than me, he even wrote the essay for me. I don’t remember what the topic was. I just had to memorize it and blurt it out on the day of the competition. That’s how I was first put up for public speaking, not on my own free will, my dads free will off course. 

I spent few days memorizing the essay word by word. Day of competition arrived, I wore a light blue T-Shirt, Khaki shorts, and sandals. The competition was to be held in an auditorium. I reached the auditorium with my father and when I saw the huge auditorium and the shear number of people inside, I panicked. I got so nervous that I forgot everything I had memorized. I took my seat next to my father. One my one few kids climbed up to the podium and recited their essays. Finally, it was my turn. I walked nervously towards the podium, I could hear my father cheering me up in the background, every step I took was so heavy that I felt my legs are jammed. Some how I reached up to the podium and at this point I was so nervous that I didn’t even looked up. I reached for the paper, on which my essay was written, in my back pocket. I opened it up and in one single breath without looking up blurted everything, which was on the piece of paper. And quickly rushed back to my seat. Reflecting on it I can imagine it must have been the most boring public speaking. Off course I didn’t win any prize.  It took me years to gather courage, and lot of practice to go on stage again and speak independently with confidence. 

Now I don’t have to look for paper in my back pocket. It comes naturally but still off all the public speaking I have done the only one I remember clearly is the one I described. 

Ladies Cycle

Ladies cycle

My dad came into my room and announced, “keshu its time for you to learn how to cycle”. I got excited hearing these word, I have been watching my sisters cycle to their School every day on their ladies cycle and the thought of me doing the same on my own cycle was very exciting. We had two cycles at home, a 24 inch black coloured gents cycle and a 22 inch red coloured ladies cycle. My mother and sisters were using the ladies cycle and the gents cycle was mostly used by my father, which was too big for me. 

I asked my father, “your cycle is too big for me, how will I learn on it ?” To which my dad replied, “on the ladies cycle”. So that’s how I started to learn cycling on a ladies cycle. It was many years after I had learnt cycling that I got my own cycle. My dad took out the ladies cycle outside and asked me to get on it while he held it firmly from the back. I was too young to reach to the ground while sitting on it. He asked me to hold the handle and put my legs on the paddles and start cycling. First day was like that he holding the cycle from back and me paddling around the streets of Shantinagar Colony in Roorkee. I was enjoying the feeling of flying on my ladies cycle. After few rounds my dad asked me to take rest 

Murder

Murder

Love can also be deadly

My flight arrived at Delhi International Airport a bit later in the evening then planned,  unfortunately the flight was delayed by more than an hour due to weekend rush at the airport. As soon as I passed through the immigration I switched on my mobile phone, I saw two missed calls from my taxi driver Raghu. I had informed Raghu a day before, from New York that I will arrive around 10 PM, it was now mid-night. I thought Raghu must be waiting for me outside in the parking area. I rushed through baggage collection and headed straight to our usual spot, pillar no. 10 at the parking bay, where Raghu had picked me up several times before, but there was no sign of him. He has always been on time, I wondered what happened? I gave him a call, “Raghu where are you? I thought you are already at the airport”. Raghu replied, “Namaste Sir, Sorry Sir, I got delayed because there was a big traffic Jam near Ghaziabad and then I had a flat wheel, but I am very close should reach in another 10-15 minutes”. I replied back “Raghu, please hurry up we are very late and I have to reach home fast, I am waiting for you at the usual place”. I had tense 10-15 minutes of wait; I started thinking about my mother and the phone call I received from her just before I boarded my flight from New York. She sounded very angry and desperate. Initially I thought it’s perhaps the usual arguments between my parents. I have grown up seeing it and I did not pay much attention to it for a while until she said something, which I have never heard her say before. I got a bit worried. While I was waiting I thought of giving her a phone call, but then as I was about to do so a voice came from behind, “Namaste Sir, Raghu here”.  It was Raghu when he arrived I did not noticed, I was too busy in my thoughts. “Raghu, how are you?” without waiting to hear his answer I said “let’s hurry up I need to be home quick”. Raghu sensed a bit of urgency in my voice. He asked me “Sir is everything all right”. I was not sure what to say “I don’t know Raghu let’s hurry up”.  He quickly put my luggage in the boot of his car and then we were out of the airport in a jiffy.

Once the car was on the highway I tried calling my mother few times. The phone was ringing but no one was picking it up at the other end, it made me a bit more nervous. Several thoughts started to cross my mind, why she is not picking up? My mother’s last words during our last phone conversation repeated in my head again and again, I started to get seriously worried about her. While car speeded onto the Delhi-Dehradun highway Raghu asked me “Sir, would you like to have dinner at the usual place?” I told Raghu, “Not today, we really need to go home fast and it’s already too later for dinner now”. Raghu tried to ask me again what is bothering me but I was too busy in my thoughts that I ignored his question.  I knew that I am going to spend very long five hours in the car until I reach home. I was desperate to go home quickly. Usually in my previous trips from Delhi International Airport to Meerut city Raghu and I would stop over for dinner and tea at the road side restaurants, but this time we didn’t took any breaks. Finally, after five painful hours in the car we entered Meerut City. It was month of December so it was still dark and a bit of fog had settled over the city. There was an early morning buzz on the streets with milkman running with his big cans  of milk on his Rajdoot motorcycle, new paper guy on his bicycle, and several of the residents covered in shawls and head scarfs on the their early morning walk.   

Raghu knew the way to my house very well so he rushed straight to my house as by now he was completely aware that something was terribly wrong. I did not utter a single word to him in the entire journey and it’s usually not like that, on previous occasions when he has picked me up we usually talk about my trip and he tells me gossips about what’s happening in the city and what I have missed during the time I was away. As soon as the car took the final right turn to reach my house I knew something went terribly wrong in my house last night. There was a lot of commotion outside. I noticed a police jeep and a van, with bunch of khaki clad policemen, waiting outside my house, surrounded with a number of our neighbors as well. I asked Raghu to wait and I stepped outside the car. There was our neighbor Prof. Suresh Kumar, I asked “what’s wrong professor, what’s going on?” He did not say much just asked me to go inside the house.

As I stepped inside the house my heart sank, there was a body lying motionless in a fresh pool of blood on the marble floor with very deep injuries on head and neck, and blood was running down from where the body lying in the hall towards the kitchen. My mother was sitting in the corner of the room on a sofa with her head in her hands with no emotions and I could see blood stains on her hands too. I could see a sharp knife enclosed in a polythene bag in hands of one of the fat constable. Before I could grasp the seriousness of the crime scene, police inspector Mr. Jitendra Singh approached me and asked me in his heavy voice, “who are you and why are you inside the house ?” I replied “I am her son just returned from a conference in New York”. He took me aside into the courtyard of the house and asked me to wait their until he finishes all the formalities. I wanted to speak to my mother but I was asked to wait.

It was a long wait for another hour or so, first I saw an ambulance arrived and took the dead body away, then I saw some lady police officers came and took my mother away, before I could ask them where they are taking her, I was interrupted by Inspector Singh. He asked me to join him in his police jeep and accompany him to the police station, where he will tell me where my mother will be and what I should do next. By this time the crowd, which had gather outside our house earlier, had disappeared. Raghu was still waiting outside in the car. He felt asleep in the car while waiting for me to pay him for the taxi ride. I tapped on his window, he suddenly woke up from his deep sleep and opened the front door and before he could have said anything I said “Raghu lets meet in the evening I will pay you then”, I then rushed to join Inspector Singh in his police jeep.  We reached police station within few minutes. Inspector Singh asked his assistant to get two cups of tea, I hadn’t had anything since last night and was really thirsty it was a lot to take in, so I did not say no to the offer of tea. He took out a match stick from the match box kept on his dusty table, with a number of files placed on top of each other, and lit a  cigarette. He offered me one I politely declined. He took few puffs and then said in his heavy voice, “I think your mother has killed this man, your maid servant called us this morning around 6 am,  your mother did not say a single word since we were there, referring to my house, do you have any idea what might have happened there last night ?” I replied back to him, “I wish I’d been there earlier. It might have made all the difference. So all I can tell you is why he was murdered.”

I told inspector Singh, “The dead man was my Father”. He was shocked. I continued further “My mother called me when I was about to leave from New York, She told me that my Father is in the house and they are arguing. My parents have been separated for years. My father was a business man and my mother worked as a school teacher. They both married each other out of love in the early 1980s. All was well until my father had a huge loss in his business and he turned to alcohol for comfort and I don’t remember exactly but within no time his alcoholism turned him into an abusive alcoholic. For many years my mother dealt with the emotional pain he gave her during that time but their reaches a point in every person’s life, my mother was no different, at that point she took a decision to leave him. It was a pain-full one, I have seen her crying at night during the early phase of their separation, and she loved him dearly before he turned into an alcoholic. Since their separation we have been living independently in my grandparents’ house. ” I was interrupted by the assistant, who brought two cups of tea with a plate of biscuits. Inspector Singh said “See this line of work is crazy I am up since 2 am, let’s have some tea”. While sipping his hot tea he said to me “I hear what you are telling me but that still does not explain what happened in your house last night”. I had my sip of tea as well; somehow it tasted very good on an empty stomach. I continued “Day before last night, when my mother called she said something, which made me very nervous. First time, ever since my drunken dad has been visiting her, she said I am going to take him out of his misery. I was not sure what to make of it but later during my flight I thought about it deeply and it occurred to me that she might kill him.” Inspector Singh interrupted me and asked, “Why you think she said, what she said?”  I replied “my mother loved my father way too much before and even after he turned into an alcoholic. He would often come to our house drunk and she would still deal with and feed him. She had mentioned to me on several occasions that she could not see my dad like that and she thought that he was in a lot of pain. I never understood what she meant clearly and I also stopped paying attention to it as I was getting busy with my own life. But I guess here was a man whom she loved dearly and married him out of love against the will of her parents. She sacrificed a lot to be with him and to see him like that probably took a big toll on her and she decided to do the inevitable.” At this point Inspector Singh exclaimed, “That’s why I tell people be careful of falling in love, it can be deadly.”

Roorkee Relived

One should never go back to the places of great childhood memories

Roorkee is a small town on the outskirts of Uttar Pradesh, placed nicely between majestic Shivalik hills of Himalayan mountain ranges and dusty planes of Northern India. On a clear sunny day it is sometime possible to catch glimpses of Shivalik hills from Roorkee too and that’s what Sheru enjoyed doing mostly during his summer holidays. In order to catch glimpse of the hills he would occasionally climb up to the top of the tall Banyan tree in his back yard or to the top of the water tank in his neighborhood. His two best friends Raju and Sonu would also join him some times to enjoy the view from the top of the water tank located in the residential colony, one of the several residential colonies in Roorkee, where they lived with their families.  They had perfected the art of climbing to the top of the tree but climbing to the top of the water tank was a difficult task. They had to sneak past rusted iron gates and from the piercing eyes of Nathuram the chowkidar, and then quietly take several flights of stairs to reach to the top. Although tired at the end of the climb, they were reward with the pristine view of Shivalik hills. The view of mountains filled them with the joy, which was almost equal to climbing the mountains itself. Sometimes the gang of three would spend hours at the top away from the eyes of their parents planning their summer adventures. Their adventures mostly revolved around picking up sweet juicy leeches from Mrs. Chopra’s garden or tasty mulberry from the garden of Mrs. Nathuram, or teasing the local public schools care taker Bhagu, all of whom would often run after the boys with sticks in their hands. There was some fun in such activities for the boys, which was not comparable to anything else.   

Just a day before their schools was about to open after a long summer break, three of them made their way up to the water tank once again. Sheru was in no mood to go back to school; he just liked the freedom and routine less life during the summer holidays with no book or teacher to follow. While they were chewing on the freshly stolen Mulberries from Mrs. Nathuram’s garden, gang leader Sheru announced that he has a plan, which could make their school remain closed for another week.  Raju and Sonu were immediately interested, to know what exactly Sheru was thinking about this time, they both asked him to reveal the details of his plan. The plan was to jump the fence of their school in evening, when Bhagu is usually busy doing evening prayers, and block the classrooms door locks by putting match sticks ends into their keyhole.  The plan was full proof with high chances of success, except on the day they were going to execute it Sheru’s dad decided that it’s time to go and buy the books for the next class term as the new stocks had arrived in the book shop and would not last long. It was one of the least interested things he wanted to do that day, but it was very hard for him to say no to his dad.  And by the time he returned back from the Bazaar it was too late, his friends were waiting but Bhagu was back on his rounds after finishing his prayers. Now there was nothing much three could do except to prepare themselves for attending school next day.

Schools started usual way, Sheru and his class mates were asked by Head Master Chobey to write an essay about their summer holidays, this was again a routine Sheru knew very well. He was now used to writing similar essays every time school re-opened after the summer break. Already on the first day at school Sheru started dream about the next summer holidays and things he would like do with his friends. He started counting the days when it will be summer again and he will be re-united to the freedom and joy of viewing the Shivalik’s and enjoying stealing leeches and mulberries once again. Mundane life at school went on between the lectures of Mrs. Sharma, on how to write proper Hindi with correct spellings, and Mr. Gupta on addition, subtraction, Trigonometry, etc. Sheru always wondered when that occasion will arrive in his life where he will make use of Trigonometry.  Neither addition nor subtraction has ever been much of an issue while running errands at local Banay store whenever his mom asked him to go and buy something. So far in his day to day life such a need has not yet arrived, he thought perhaps one day such an occasion might arrive and was waiting for it. Eight months passed very quickly between the school lectures and homework. It was almost time for final exams and then it will be once again time for summer break, which Sheru has been waiting for all along. Result did not bother him too much he knew where he will stand.  

Exams were over and summer finally arrived and with it came the school break Sheru has been waiting for almost a year now. It was too hot this time hot winds from dusty planes were blowing, trees were dry, street dogs were laying in puddle of mud to cool them down. Sheru and his friends were sitting under the banyan tree, which was still providing some shade from the intense summer heat. They wanted to celebrate the school results, which they had obtained earlier in the day. Sheru was on his usual spot around 15^th in the class of 25, Raju and Sonu managed to alleviate their ranking by 2 points, scoring 22^nd and 23^rd, and were very happy that they were not the lowest rankers anymore. In order to celebrate they decided it was time to venture outside the bounds of their residential colony, after all they were grown up now, at least that’s what they thought, and they could handle the life outside their residential colony. The plan was to cycle along the Ganga Canal, in the afternoon, to take bath in one of the tributaries of the Canal on the outskirts of the city. They had heard about it from one of their school friend who lived in the nearby village where the tributary flowed through.  He was going to join them there and was going to show them way to reach to a nice spot where they could dip their dark slim bodies into the cold water of the canal to get the relief from the intense summer heat. Plan was executed and all of them met at Century Gate near civil lines and then cycled along the Canal to the spot to enjoy the cold water of the canal, they splashed the cold water on each other, joked, and had a lot of fun. How time passed they had no idea, Sheru looked at the time in his new digital watch, a gift from his parents for keeping up his position in his class, it was 5:30 in the evening, it was time to go home else he would be in trouble. He asked Sonu and Raju to go back but the two were in no mood to get out of the cold water they were having too much fun, they both asked him to stay for 30 more minutes but Sheru decided that he should leave else he will be in bigger trouble if his parents would found out that he had cycled so far away from the house. He told Raju and Sonu that he will join them next day and planned to meet them at the top of the water tank next day morning to plan their next adventure.

Next day Sheru waited for his friends at the top of the water tank they did not show up, it was not usual for them not to come, they were usually always on time. He decided to go and visit Raju’s and Sonu’s houses to find out why they were late. He thought probably they are being punished by their parents for coming home late yesterday. When he arrived at Raju’s house a bit of commotion was going on and all the neighbors had gathered outside the house, even his own parents were there too. He reluctantly asked his dad what has happened, he got to know that Raju and Sonu have not returned back home since yesterday. He feared the worst, all creepy thoughts started coming to his mind, have they drowned in the water. He got really scared and told his father about where they all went yesterday. A search party was quickly organized and headed to the Canal tributary, all they found there was boys cloths and their bi-cycles. Later on the professional divers were called and the bodies of the three boys were recovered from the Canal bed. As the news of the death of his dear friends from drowning reached Sheru, he was shattered, he could not stop crying, and he knew right then that his life is not going to be same again, his beloved friends were gone forever.  

Now Sheru did not look forward to the summer holidays any longer, he tried to distract himself by indulging more into studies and developed love for books instead. Time worked as a good doctor and helped him get rid of the scars of the death of his dear friends. Books and studies helped too, he managed to improve his ranking in school a lot and now he stood among the top 3. With only studies and books in his mind time past quickly, he finished school and managed to secure himself a place in the prestigious Delhi University. He was happy to have made it to the university and so were his parents. The four years he spent at the University were challenging and demanding but passed very quickly, perhaps too quickly then he had anticipated. A shy young kid had turned into a man ready to take on any challenge, which life might throw at him. He was among the lucky few who landed themselves a great job offer with a Multi-national firm, at the end of the fourth year at the University.  As part of his job he asked to move immediately to London to start working with a multi-national bank.

Sheru was filled with excitement about this new chapter in his life and thought of moving to London excited him even more. His knowledge of London was limited to the story books, and the Jeffery Archer novels he has read in his school, and at the University. He wanted to explore London, visit, the Big-Ben, the river Thames, and the Buckingham palace. He wanted to live the stories he read about London. When he finally arrived in London it was summer time, his company placed him in a bed and breakfast near the Green Park Station. The air in London was fresh and Green Park station was surrounded with nice big trees, Londoners were busy enjoying the nice summer sun with their picnics, and kids were playing and running around trying to catch birds, which were trying to feed on the bread crumps thrown at them by the visitors. The weather and the fresh air reminded him of spring time in Roorkee he felt as if he was transported back to the large green lawns of Roorkee with big Oak trees and green gardens. He would wake up early in the morning to the sound of Big-Ben and his daily 30 minutes journey to work would take him through the pedestrian pathway through the Green Park passing the majestic Buckingham Palace with its huge iron gates and not to mention large number of tourist from all over the world.

Soon the routine of working in a corporate multi-national company started to take its toll on him. He was paid well for his routine job; he never liked routine anyway, and with arrival of cold and dark British winter excitement of London together with his routine job started to fade away. It started to rain and the cold winds together with rain made the 30 minutes pleasant summer time journey a very unpleasant one. Sheru was not used to such cold weather, it used to get cold in Roorkee during winter but the cold weather in London was not comparable. One of the evenings on the way back from office he sat on a cold bench in the Green Park. He was tired after work, he closed his eyes for a minute, and the feeling of being lonely in such a big city started to dawn upon him, he started missing, his home, his parents, and his friends. He started to think about his childhood days with no routine and the joy of summer with his dear friends. A sudden urge, to go back to his beautiful city with a lots of child hood memories, arose in his heart. In his mind he then decided to go back to Roorkee during the Christmas break.

Month of December arrived and London transformed into a festive place with it streets filled with tourists and several attractions for young and old. Sheru was not interested in what London was to offer during Christmas, he was counting his days to go back, his long awaited break was about to begin in a week’s time, and he was looking for a break from cold British winter. Time finally arrived for him to Board the British Airways flight to Delhi from Heathrow Terminal 2, within a short flight of only 5 hours and 30 minutes he was back in his country. He arrived early in the morning at Delhi Airport and from their made his way to the New Delhi Central train station and took the first train to Dehradun, which stops over in Roorkee. By 11:30 am he was in his city. He rushed straight to see the houses where his parents use to live, and the water tank, on the top of which he spent a number of summer afternoons with his friends. A thousand thoughts crossed his mind, he was very excited, and he had not visited the place in many years now.  He contemplated thinking how it will all look, who is living in those houses, will he find any kids on the tank top planning adventures like he did during his childhood days. When he finally reached the place he used to live, he could barely recognize it, an over growth of trees and plants had almost engulfed the houses he used to live. The water tank was in a state of despair with its stairs almost broken and no way to climb up to the top without risking his life. He was totally unaware of the state changes taking place in Roorkee while he was away. In the years he spent in the Delhi and London, Roorkee and the neighboring areas have gone through rapid changes, these changes were part and parcel of India trying to become a developed nation overnight, changes too fast to cope with, which let residential colonies in a state of rapid deterioration as a number of people living in them moved out to build their own houses. Sense of community and belongingness was losing fast. Sheru was caught unaware of these changes, his childhood memories were shattered in a second. He closed his eyes and remembered the good old days and his beloved friends, a thought ran through his mind – I wish I could turn back the clock and bring the wheels of time to a stop and go back to the good old days of childhood.

Fishing

Fishing

Roorkee is probably not the town which comes to mind when you think about fishing. But for my dad and I there were plenty of fish to catch in Roorkee. My dad was always keen to go for fishing  and he often took me as well with him on summer evening. He even managed to get himself a very nice fishing rod imported from Canada through some of his University Of Roorkee connections. 

My dad use to go fishing in the tributaries of ganga canal, which cuts roorkee into two haves. An old Roorkee on one side and a new one on the other side. Legend has it that it was built by an Englishman who went by name of Mr. Cautely, may be, I have never seen his picture or his bust or his name on the canal anywhere. Only thing, which comes to my mind when I hear Roorkee canal is Lions and fishes. Lions as there are 4 lions on either side of the canal and fishes because of my great childhood memories of catching fishes with my dad off the canal near Pilan Kaliyar, a holy shrine for muslims. 

One fine day my dad asked me if I would like to go with him for fishing in afternoon. I was excited and immediately said yes. After I came back from school my dad had prepared everything for fishing. His ice box was mounted on the back of the cycle with fishing rod dangling between cycle handle and my seat. I was tired from school but excited to go with him. I had a quick lunch of kidney beans and rice and jumped on the cross bar and onto my seat in front and with hands firmly holding the fishing rod and bi-cycle handle I signalled  my dad that I am ready for the ride. 

We drove few kilometres along the canal and reached Pilan Kaliyar shrine, every time we were near the shrine my dad told me the legend of Karan, Arjun’s half brother, from  the legend of Mahabharata. Before the shrine got famous with muslims the place was famous for the purana kila - of Karan. Remains of which are still visible today in the form of a huge old of brick wall. 

When we finally reached the spot, which was famous for fishing I got off and went straight into the tributary with the fishing rod. I heard my dad screaming from behind for me to be careful. I wanted to quickly catch a big fish. I was hoping to get the king fish. My dad has caught some big ones in past. Now my dad was next to me he took the rod and started to put some earthworms on to the fishing hook. Then he took an aim and threw it in the middle of the tributary. I liked to go fishing but I never liked the waiting part. While my dad was waiting I noticed some local boys playing in puddle of water nearby. I asked my dad if I could play with them. He said ok but come back soon.  I don’t know how long I was playing but then I heard my dad again asking me to come back. He asked me to hold the fishing rod stead while he comes back from a toilet break. I held the rod and put my head on it sideways. 

Suddenly I felt a bit of tug on the rod. I screamed we got a fish, I tired to pull the cord back but the rod won’t bulge. I tired harder and then I felt the tug again and this time it was so hard that I slipped and fell into water. Before I could understand anything I was being pulled along into the river and as my head went under water I got glimpses of a huge king fish. I was happy to see such a big fish but scared that I was being dragged into the water and I didn’t knew swimming. As soon as I surfaced back I started to scream but I didn’t let the fishing rod go. Now I was scared and started screaming louder and louder. Then I heard my dad again he was screaming and his scream was getting louder and louder. I was trying to make what he was saying. As his screamed louder I heard him asking me to open my eyes. Then I suddenly opened my eyes and realised that I had slept with my head on the rod. I was relieved it was just a dream. 

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Aliens in Zekrete

Aliens in Zekrete

My dad likes doing barbecue on the beach. Our family often goes to Zekrete beach, south west of Doha. It is one of the quite beaches in Qatar, both, for the visitors and the waves, and perfect to build sand castles. I was always up for barbecue because for me it meant Sun, Sand and lots of fun on my own. I like the freedom I have on the beach as I could build and destroy any thing I want, which was often not possible at home without annoying any one of my parents. 

On one of the winter days in January, weather was perfect, a bit cooler and not so windy, for the beach. My dad decided it was time for barbecue on the beach. We packed our car, while mom made some sandwiches, I helped my dad in putting portable chairs and tables into the boot. I was allowed to take some of my beach toys. I picked my shovels, beach bucket, digger, toy cart and was ready for it. We drove in our Pajero towards Zekrete and passed by some camels and sand dunes on the way. As soon as I saw the table top looking eroded hills, like the Grand Canyon in America but slight smaller in scale, we’ll actually lot smaller in scale, I knew we were close. 

Once at the beach we looked for the perfect spot. As usual not many people were there, except some group of people on the furthest end of the beach. There was a lot of sea foam around, it was like a big bath tub and I was in it, I could easily spend hours playing with it. Pieces of it would break off from sudden gust of wind and I was running  behind to catch them. After I was done playing with the foam I took out the toys  and started digging sand for my construction project to build a huge kingdom with my own sand castle. 

While I built my kingdom my dad fired up the barbecue and soon there was nice smell of roasted meat and sausages, which made me slightly hungry as I was digging for quite some time. I carried on with my construction project digging more sand, mixing cement and building road. By the time my dad finished barbecuing the meat, I had managed to build myself a kingdom with castle and few houses with some roads. It was time for lunch now. My mom prepared the table and I was ready to enjoy my favourite sausage with some cucumber, lettuce and tomatoes.

After the meal, it was perhaps the sea air, I felt very tired and wanted to sleep a bit and I asked my mother if I could just lie down for few minutes and she should wake me up to finish few more houses in my kingdom. As I lied down the sound of waves acted like a lullaby and I quickly fell asleep. 

I don’t know how long I slept, I was woken up by sense of cold water touching my feet. As I opened my eyes, it was pitch dark, and  I was surprised to see that there was no one on the beach. My kingdom was washed up by rising tide. I got really scared and angry and started crying thinking how could my parents leave me like that all alone on the beach? 

Several silly thoughts crossed my head, perhaps something happened to them may be they were washed by rising tide and what not. I gathered some courage to get up and find my way home. I thought may be I could get to the road and there I could stop a car and ask for help. As I was walking to find the road earth started to shake rapidly, huge sound of running engines started coming from the sky and as I looked up I saw bright white light coming straight down on my face from what looked like an alien spaceship. It was coming closer to mr faster and faster, my whole body started to shake with the ground. The light became brighter and brighter. I closed my eyes and the shaking increased even more. Terrible feeling swept across my whole body thinking some aliens are coming to pick me up and in a shock I opened my eyes and I saw my dad with a torch light trying to waking me up. He was screaming at me asking me to get up as it was getting dark, car engine was running and it was time to go home. I realised I was just dreaming. I was glad that it was just a dream and no aliens came to pick me up. 

The Great Men of India

To The Great Men Of India

Today I could not help writing this article to defend Indian society and Indian men in particular who are being victimised on the pretext of an interview of a rape convict. Yes, I am speaking about the recent BBC documentary which features an interview with one of the Nirbhaya rape convict, who is serving his sentence in Tihar jail in India. The BBC documentary made by a western journalist with a western perspective unfortunately blames mind-set of all Indian men for what happened to Nirbhaya. The documentary draws such conclusions because the Nirbhaya rape case convict does not show any remorse towards his actions and instead gives justifications for doing what he did on that day. I totally disagree with the portrait of Indian men being painted in this documentary and therefore I find the urgency to speak up about this matter in defence of Indian society and in particular for Indian men.

BBC documentary published an interview of a person, whom I am not even considering naming in this article, as he deserves no attention what so ever just like the killer from Norway who slaughtered innocent men and women because of his twisted mind set and Ideology or the two men, one in Austria and one in USA, who locked up daughters/women in cellar for years or the nurse who refused abortion of an Indian women in Ireland because of religious reasons, which consequently led to her death. There are many more cases ranging from rape to racism to absolute fanaticism, which keep happening around the globe. It is unfortunate that parallels are drawn by BBC about Indian society based on the interview of this person; imagine what could happen if you start drawing parallels about Norwegian, Austrian, American, Irish society or any other society and its people based on the criminals who are locked up in their jails. It saddens me to see that such a reputed new channel BBC doing something similar.  I feel that by airing such a documentary and drawing conclusions based on the mind-set of a perverted mind by BBC is not only promoting irresponsible journalism but also insulting all the hard working men of India, who treat their wives, sisters and daughters with same dignity as men do in western societies, and who have worked hard over decades to bring this county to where it stand today.

It is unfortunate that in recent times BBC has been completely insensitive towards Indian sentiments and values and has been portraying India as a country which has nothing good to offer. I possibly can not comment on their reason for being so insensitive towards Indian society and India.  However, In order to counter the views being propagated by BBC about Indian men I would like to draw your attentions some of the basic facts about men of India. A number of my friends, majority of them are Indian men, are respectable people in society, doctors, engineers, farmers, lawyer and university professors and so have been their fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters. I know them and their families for a very long period of time and I can say with ease that all of my Indian male friends have worked hard to reach where they are today and I know from personal communication with them they do not agree with the views of the person highlighted by BBC documentary. I also know that they as parents also will disagree with the views propagated about how Indian men think about their daughter’s freedom and educations. Not only do I know about these friends of mine but in some cases I also know their parents who have worked hard to put their children (my friends and their sisters) to school and have provided them all the necessary freedom which Indian society can offer to its boys and girls while growing up in India. If some western journalist likes to think otherwise I would like to invite them to my home town and would like them to witness this friendly mingling of boys and girls at all levels from school to university in our little society. Like I know my friends and family and their view about raising girls in India I am sure so do you and I would like you to speak up today against such harsh judgment about Indian society and men by western media.

Thanks for reading

My Mother

My Mother - A short Memoir 

On the day of remembrance I stood over my mother's grave, in Landour Christian cemetery, little white roses and marigold were blossoming all over it. It reminded me of the beautiful picture of mine sitting on my mother's lap, hanging in my study, in our garden surrounded with white roses and marigold in the backdrop of Lal Tibba mountain range. My mother loved gardening and she always planted a lot of marigold, it was her favourite flower. Often she told me in my childhood that Sun shine so bright because it has billions of marigold flower on it. She loved these flowers so much that she requested me to plant them over her grave after she is gone. I have fond memories of her, dressing me up for school, cooking delicious pancakes with apricot jam for me, and most of all her stories. Never a night passed by when I would have gone to sleep without her story. 

I grew up in Landour in an Anglo-Indian family. My mother was white like milk, she was born in Cardiff and moved to Mussoorie with her parents when she was 2 years old. My grand father was half english and half Indian. I  must have got my genes more from my father as I did not look like my mother except my blue eyes, which made me a different Indian boy at School. My sister looks more like her instead. 

In my childhood I was the nervous type, specially before the exams, anyone could see it on my face. Once during my high school exams I was very very nervous before the Hindi language paper. After I had me dinner I sat next to the window and started reciting the Hindi poems. I was not really fond of Hindi, My homework always came back with lot of red marks, indicating all the mistakes I made. I  really wanted to get rid of it as a subject as soon as possible. My mother was lying on the bed next to my sister, who was already asleep by now, lucky her no exams for her she was just 4 yrs old, reading her favourite magazine- readers digest. When she saw me nervously reciting poems, she came close to me and whispered in my ears, "Life is an exam where the syllabus is unknown and question papers are not set", I looked at her as what she just said made no sense to me. I was puzzled and I asked her, " Mummy what do you mean ? What are you trying to tell me ?". 

She stood there for a moment and said, "let me tell you a interesting event from my youth to explain". I was always up for it for few minutes I forgot about my Hindi exam. I was excited to listen about my mother's youth. She started " when I was in high school just like you, I was studying in Wood stock school. We didn't have to learn Hindi then as it was not compulsory for any one in India. It was English, which everyone had to learn in Schools. I was the best, I read a lot of english book and I was fond of story book too and read almost a book a day. I also learnt it at home from my parents who always spoke Queen's English. None of us in School ever thought of or paid attention to learning Hindi at School at that time. Then, at the stoke of mid-night hour, India gained independence. All of us at School boys and Girls were caught by surprise as Hindi was announced as the National language. I hadn't learnt a thing about it in School. I was scared how will I teach myself Hindi. But you know how are learnt it ? " This was strange for me to hear as my mother spoke Hindi like every one else in Landour.  I always thought she grew up here so she must have learnt it in School just like I am learning. I said, " off course I want to know". She said, " It was not easy but I learnt it by listening to radio and watching Hindi films at the local Cinema in Dehradun".  I could not believe it, I said " no exams no syllabus nothing and your Hindi is so good, are you serious?" She said, "Sometimes necessity makes your learn things on your own.  You don't need a book for it. Life teaches you lessons everyday you just have to be careful to notice and learn from it." 

I learnt one thing from my mother that night no matter how hard you prepare life always catches you with surprises sometimes good and sometimes not so good. I should not be worried about the exams and be nervous. The real exam goes on everyday and there is no preparation for it.  You learn and unlearn things everyday and life goes on.