A Smart One Saves And Makes Hundreds

The time was good; the house of Sahukar Jagan Lal had everything - the food go-downs were full, the family was happy and they had sufficient money to last for this generation. Sahukarji lived a content and happy life with his four sons and their wives, he adored the youngest son, Madhu the most. Madhu was a bit slow but was quite hard working, he was married to a beautiful girl, Radha.

The aged Sahukar felt it was time for him to handover the reigns of the house to someone who would be able to run the house well and maintain harmony among everybody.

He called up the eldest of his bahu and explained to her that it was time for her to take over and run the show. She asked Sahukarji what she need to do, Sahukarji politely explained to her that she need to hold the house together. She nodded that she understood what he meant and would execute the duties well. The next day the elder bahu was nowhere to be found. At dinner time she walked in tired and exhausted. When asked where she had been she explained in a tired voice that she had been holding to the corner of the house all day as told by the sahukarji. Sahukarji went to bed very disappointed.

After the elder bahu had failed Sahukarji he tried to test the second eldest. He called up her and explained her that after the eldest has disappointed him it was her turn to take charge. This time he tried to be a little more specific not hurting the sensibility of the bahu. He tried to put it to her simply that she has to ensure that the relations are maintained with the folks of the hill and she should take care of people who visit them and the passerby. To his horror that afternoon he saw that the bahu had invited each and every passerby home for a feast. When questions the bahu replied - 'that's what you told me to do, take care of everybody who passes by our house'. He shrugged and left.

It was time for his to test his third bahu. He explained her that he had lots of hope on her and he wanted to fix things, he subtly put across that he would expect her to manage balance between the inside things and the outside things. To his utter shock when he returned he found the house in chaos. All the inside things were out and the outside things were in. It broke his heart.

The old Sahukar was distraught and felt that the family had no future in the absence of a good and smart housemaster. As long as he would be alive he would mange things and after he moves on only god knows what would happen. He stopped going to work and with every passing day he grew ill and the worry dragged him down.

Finally he remembered his youngest bahu, Radha. Sahukarji was very fond of her and had avoided asking her to manage things as he felt she was too young to take on the burden. She was his last hope. When she came with dinner to him room he explained how disappointed he was with her bhabhi's - who didn't possess an iota of common and had had no clue what was expected to them. He didn't expect too much from her but if she could be a bit better that the three he would be able to die peacefully. She agreed to take charge on a condition that the folks of the house would need to pay heed to her advise.

Sahukarji called a meeting the next day and announced that the Radha would manage the house and every member of the family was to listed to her. She announced that she has great respect for each and everybody and would expect each of them to help her run the house. She assured them that they need to continue doing things the way they are doing all she need them to do is not to come ome empty handed- they must bring home something of use and utility.

Within next couple of months the house was filled with items and articles which added to the prosperity. There was no dearth of cooking wood, cattle feed, stones etc. Seeing things settled Sahukarji moved on to the next world peacefully.

One evening, Madhu turned up with dead snake dangling from his stick. Seeing this Radha was shocked. Madhu explained that he couldn't find anything on his way back from work and he just picked up the dead snake which was lying around the corner. Radha asked him to toss the dead snake on to the roof of the house and rush in to have his dinner.

Couple of days later while Radha was cleaning the roof of the house she found a beautiful pearl necklace. She understood what might have happened - some bird must have dropped it and picked up the dead snake. She told Madhu about it and asked him to keep his mouth shut.

The next day the word was out that the princess has lost her pearl necklace while she was taking a bath and now it could not be found. The entire palace had been searched thoroughly without any sign of the pearl necklace. Announcement were made that anybody who happened to find it and return to Rajaji or help find it would be rewarded. It was princess's favorite one and she announced that she was not eating anything till it was not recovered, this got Rajaji in worry. Madhu told Radha about the announcements made in the kingdom about the lost pearl necklace and the reward associated with finding the necklace. Radha explained that walking with the necklace to the Rajaji would be fraught with danger as nobody would believe their story and might end them in the royal prison.

The hunt for the pearl necklace went on for couple of weeks. Finally Rajaji decided to invite all the learned people, the sadhus, the pandits and rishis to a sabha to help find the necklace. Hearing this Radha went out early morning and slid the pearl necklace under one of big stones in the Rajaji's open meeting place.

The kingdom was buzz with activities and it had visitors from far and near. It was the biggest congregation of the intelligent and learned people. The sabha started with Rajaji's appeal to the gathering to help his find the pearly necklace and the announcement of a big reward to the finder. The pandits and the rishis started their pujas and havans, some had spread their thick books in front of them and were searching them frantically, some were in trance like state finding the missing pearl necklace. The sun was about to set but no one had been able to figure out where the necklace was. The heads were hanging in shame and the Rajaji was very disappointed, Rajaiji was about to call off the sabha but before he could say anything a voice rose from the crowd. 'Rajiji I can help you find the pearl necklace', all eyes turned to Madhu who was dressed in new clothes and a smart pagdi; the crowd burst into a laughter. Someone from the gathering said, 'there is no one more learned and intelligent than us present here today. if we have failed what would you do'. Rajaji felt this person deserves a chance though he was not too hopeful.

Madhu asked them to clear the space in the middle. He started by spreading out his book, which apparently belong to the deceased Sahukarji and had a neat list of expenses he encouraged in the last five years. Madhu was scared but Radha had prepared him well. After this, he took our dices from him pocket, rolled them in his hands, mumbles a prayer to almighty to spare him if things go wrong, looked west in the direction of the setting sun them south and blew into the dices and rolled them on his book. The by-looker were impressed. Pensively looking at the dices and letting the sweat drip on the book Madhu closed his eyes and asked the big rock near the entrance to be removed. Rajaji gave permission and five of the soldiers with great effort removed it. The pearl necklace was not there, Madhu's heart sank and his heart started to beat faster. He remembered Radha telling him that she has slid it under the big rock but couldn't remember which rock. He practices his act again and pointed to another rock, nothing was found under it, then another and another. Rajaji almost lost his patience on Madhu wasting their time. Sensing trouble Madhu told Rajiji that the colour red was interrupting him for establishing contact with the stars. Immediately everybody wearing red was thrown out of the sabha. Madhu asked for a last chance, rolled his dices and pointed in the direction of a rock hoping it had the pearl necklace. The rock was removed and to everybody's surprise the necklace was there. Madhu wiped off the seat from his forehead and took a deep breath.

Rajaji was too happy to see the necklace. He announce that Madhu would be inducted into mantri mandal and would have a special status among all. Horse load of gold and silver utensils were sent to his house. Radha and Madhu lived happily ever after.

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Chapter 12 - The Last Piece

A lot of questions were asked and we were thoroughly searched. The group seemed to be unsympathetic to us. They made us sit on the ground and one of them frantically ran towards the big hut at the far end. From the hut emerged an imposing tall man impeccably dressed in a hunting suit. He felt sorry for the treatment meted to us and invited us inside his hut. He hinted at one of the men who bowed understanding what was ask for and disappeared.

We were led into a spacious room. It was tastefully done and had almost all the basic modern amenities and the walls had horns and hoofs to show off the kills. The man introduced himself as Rai Pratap Thakur in perfect English and had a clipped accent. He was in his mid forties and was dressed in best of the hunting fashion of European aristocracy.

'I hope you are not looking for me', he mischievously smiled at us and offered us the single malt. 'I was about to visit you. I am glad you walked all the way here and saved me some time’.

His manners were polite and the voice had the princely charm and authority. "I heard you were making inquiries about 'baba', and I hope you all had a peaceful night at my huts near the river bank." We all nodded in affirmation.

Neena calmly explained to him that we were The Big Race participants and the only motive of risking our life in the forest was to look for 'baba' and move on to the next challenge. She handed him The Big Race challenge papers. Rai Pratap Thakur carefully read them and went into a pensive mood. He asked us to make ourselves at home and left the room, I poured the scotch in my glass and filled it to the brim. Neena's fears seem to have realized - we were in trouble.

He returned in about 15 mins with his men who were armed. "I am the 'baba' and it appears that someone is trying to get to me through you guys. We need to move fast from here into the interiors and I am sorry but I would have to take you three with me", he announced. The men tied our hands behind the back with a coarse rope and hauled us out of the room like cattle; Neena followed us.

They dragged us into the hearts of the dark jungles. After walking for some time Rai Pratap Thakur opened up a bit to us and removed the shroud over the mystery of baba. He told us that the Panna Reserver is know for the Tigers, the diamonds and the 'baba'. He never wanted to join the family business and its trapping so he decided to purse his passion for hunting which he picked us while he was at Eton. He decided to hoodwink everybody by settling near Panna and practicing austerity for couple of years - that’s when he started to be called 'baba'. Once he was familiar with the place and his image as a 'baba' was acknowledged he was considered harmless and had full access the Panna Reserve. Gradually he started building nexus with the hide and the fur traders and the diamond smugglers. He is unknown to the outside world except for few who works for him like Vijay and the boat owner who helped us to get here.

We rested at quite a few places before we reached the lake. Our lkegs were soar and the roap had cut into the flesh. Beside the lake was a cave, Rai Pratap Thakur called out and soon a man emerged from the hut. He was in white and had flowing beards. 'They had been looking for you. I think they need some special treatment. And be a little gentle on the girl', he turned to Neena and said, 'Neena, that’s what your name is..., right'.

Joe was last seen entering the cave. Neena could be found in the Agra Asylum and I lived to tell the tale, sorry to write the tail - the bastards slit my tongue.

Rai Pratap Thakur has no record or mention anywhere and The Big Race continues to be run by thousands of jaded and burned out professionals around the world looking for some adventure.

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Chapter 11 - The Hunt for the 'Baba'

It was almost evening and sun was about to hide behind the hills. We all had lost our watches to the man who offloaded his rickety motorboat to us and so the ability to tell the exact time. I steered the motorboat to the shallow bank where it could be easily dragged to the shore and save it from being washed away in the current. Neena was animated at the sight and wanted to explore the place; she was the first one to jump of the boat followed by Joe. I picked up my bag which had the stuff I picked up in Delhi - they were to come handy now.

The sight was growing more beautiful as the sun went behind the hills. The gentle gurgling sound of the river current and odd chirps of birds added to the eerie quality of the place.

'Let's check those huts there and see if we could find a safe place to stay the night', I was concerned about the safety of the group. The huts seem to be well maintained but had not been used for quite some time. We choose the biggest of the three huts, it could fit all three and it even had a fireplace of its own and some odd utensils and cooking items and 'masalas'. I was relieved to secure a place to stay the night with food but apprehensive at the same time.

We all had questions but decided not to express them until we had our dinner. I cooked some rice and plucked some tubers and herbs from behind the hut to make a medley of vegetables in the dim light of the candle. We ravished the simple meal and felt satisfied. If someone would have asked us then which was the best and the most satisfying meal of our lives we all would mentioned this one.

Panna Reserve had tigers and other animals in abundance. We made sure the hut was fenced well and the door was secured from inside. The cooking fire had made the hut warm and the shouldering amber would see us through the chilly night. It was pitch dark and the quietness of the night was interrupted by the howling of the hyenas and foxes. Each time we hear their shrill cry chill ran up our spine. I kept my knife next to my resting place just in case.

Our purpose to be in the middle of the hostile conditions was to look for the 'baba'. Whatever information we had gathered was trivial in the hunt of the elusive and the mystic 'baba'. Who was this 'baba'? and why was he on our challenge list? Is there any connection between the 'baba' and The Big Race? Who do these huts belong to? etc. We tried to put our heads together and were able to come up with some pointers which would help us scour for the 'baba' the next day. Once this was done Neena and Joe slept off while I decided to do the vigil for a while.

The next morning we started early as decided. We headed for the highest peak to do a survey of the place. The view was panoramic and awe inspiring, I had never experience a morning so beautiful. In a distance far away beyond the meadow we could see another group of huts, our eyes lit up. We walked through the rough and wet ground crossed the beautiful meadow to find some men enjoying their morning tea. We were happy to see them but they didn’t seem to be too glad too and surprised to find us there. They all came to alert and pointed their weapons at us. I calmed them down by assuring them that we were regular travelers and were their looking for the 'baba' and we had no other business there.

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Chapter 10 - Panna Tiger Reserve

The taxi drivers pounced on us in Satna. They quoted exorbitant prices to take us to Panna Tiger Reserve. I could sense that they had a nexus and the show of trying to beat each other by quoting lower prices was a sham. We settled for a decent looking Maruti Omni. It was driven by a mild mannered middle aged Vijay. He told us that he has been driving a taxi for about 10 years now and ferrying tourists between Satna and Panna Reserve. We agreed to pay him Rs/- 900.

I tried to extract information from him casually about the topography of Panna Reserve, the wildlife, the surrounding area and a bit about the 'baba'. He answered all with interest but the 'baba' question - he seemed startled. On my goading he whispered that the locals do not talk about the 'baba'. My further attempts to lure him into let loose some information about the ‘baba’ turned futile - he remained tight lipped.

While driving through the forest towards Panna Reserve he abruptly took a sharp turn and drove through the thicket. Joe was alarmed and almost reached for his neck. If I had not come to Vijay's rescue Joe would have twisted his neck. He braked and gasped from breath - 'I am trying to help you and you want to kill me. I got you through this secret road so that you guys can make a covert entry into Panna Reserve through the river Ken'. He appeared annoyed and refused to drive any further and kept muttering that he is going to drop us at the reserve gate where we would had to wait until morning to get entry for mere 6 hours of sight seeing.

Neena worked her charm on him and half pleased he took us to Dongo. The place had couple of boats moored and was used by the locals to connect with other village on the river. Ken entered into Panna Reserve after about 35 km in the shape of a thin river with almost unnavigable water. We three had a small meeting and felt that the best way to get entry into Panna and complete challenge three was through this route. But it was fraught with danger and uncertainty, we were politely informed that not many had tried venturing into Panna Reserve and who ever did didn't have good things to talk about on return.

We got one of the locals to loan his motorboat. The motorboat owner was reluctant but the guarantee of the money and some odd and ends assured him of recovery in case the boat would never return.

"I can see some huts about a mile from here," I yelled to Joe and Neena. I was standing on top deck of the rickety motor boat which we had bought off by pawning whatever we had with us.

I had been steering it down the river in heavy downpour for nearly 2 hrs. It was a mesmerizing sight the rain had almost stopped and the hot air was rising up and turning into mist. I stopped breathing for a while, the stillness of the place seeped into my pores. I killed the engine and the boat slowly drifted down the river like a lifeless log. Joe and Neena joined me on the top deck and they gaped at the sight. It was a shallow marshy ground with long green bladed abruptly interrupted by a range of small hills with flowers all over. White birds chirped and welcomed us by hovering over our boat. "Are we in heaven or do I see trouble," Neena shrugged.

[SHARK IN A POND]

Chapter 9 - Challenge Three

We had worked our back side off in these 5 days. When we reached our room at the 'dharamshala' we found the Big Race packet as we opened the door; someone would have slipped it while we were away. Joe picked it up, opened it and read it to Neena. I couldn't hear them,I was too tired and immediately fell asleep from a satisfied work at the 'Hotel Sunshine' - we were richer by Rs/-19,000.

At 6 AM on Nov 11th, Neena tried to wake me up. I was not done with my sleep, I struggled and resisted and finally Joe came to her rescue and pulled the blanket off me. We have to leave Dehradun by 7 AM. They had packed up my stuff already. Joe hauled me out of the room and into the taxi. I dozed off on the way to the railway station and then in the train. I was clueless where we were going.

I woke up at about 9 AM. I had snuggled up with Neena who had calmly accepted me between her bosoms much to the chagrin of Joe. I apologised and sat up straight.

I was told we were headed to the heart of India and were to locate a 'baba' that had disappeared into the thick forests near Panna National Park about a couple of years back. He had been sighted couple of times by the locals who described him as a tall thin man clad in while with flowing white beards. It is said that the 'baba' was a scion of business family but he chose to give up everything and renounce the world and its pleasures. He wondered around preaching for couple of years and finally made the forest his abode. Some say he is dead and some even believe that he has possessed miracle powers over time using which he can transpose himself and we had to find this mystic.

There was a great thud and we all were thrown off our seats. There was a chaos and fellow passengers scampered for their luggage and shoved to make their way out. Nobody knew what was going. Their was commotion, the train has come to a halt and the place was enveloped in dust. Men shouted, women cried and the kids were howling. I grabbed someone who in a breath told me that the train has derailed, the engine along with the first 3 compartments had come off the rail, a few were hurt and more some were injured while saving themselves in the compartment which were still holding tight to the rails.

The experience left us all tattered and we could not thing straight for a while. Neena lost her bag in the mêlée which has some of our savings along with his power make up kit. I had all the money I got from Mr Raj, so we were still afloat. We checked with the locals and on their advice walked to the nearby town and got on a taxi to Satna. Satna is about 90 km from Panna.

Panna Wildlife Sanctuary is located in the central Indian state of Madhya Pradesh and the river Ken passes through the park and adds to the scenic beauty. Panna Wildlife Sanctuary was created in year 1981 and was declared a Project Tiger Reserve by Government of India in year 1994. The region, which is famous for its diamonds, is also home to some of the best wildlife species in India and is one of the better Tiger Reserves in the country. The park is known worldwide for its wild cats, including tigers as well as deer and antelope.

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Chapter 8 - Hotel Sunshine

I asked the 'autorikshaw' driver to drop me just outside the 'Hotel Sunshine' gate; the tall smart guards would not have let it slip in as a policy. I walked through the porch towards the entrance, the doorman gave me a strange look - I was dressed in a worn-out shirt and a distressed jeans. I politely said hi to him as I walked past him and he returned my greetings with a smile - slightly embarrassed. I went straight to Neena; she was busy behind the counter. She flashed her best smile and directed me to Mr Raj - the GM.

Mr Raj was a middle aged balding fellow whose love for fancy cars was evident from the fleet of imported cars daintily parked in the parking lot of the hotel. Mr Raj appeared arrogant and spoke haughtily but softly. He was ambitious and beautifully laid out his dream of taking 'Hotel Sunshine' to great heights. He asked me a few customary questions and quizzed me on my understanding of the Italian cuisine. He appeared a hard task master to me. He already had a menu and a plan to launch the event. I made some suggestion in the menu which were shot down by Mr Raj citing the reason that we need to give them what they want rather then what we want.

The head chef of the hotel was comparatively gracious and polite in his manners. He showed me around, I was impressed by the layout of the kitchen and his staff members appeared to respond well to him. He discussed the details on procuring material and indented for the stuff required. Most of the items on the menu were plucked from the menu of the coffee house and the staff was skilled in preparing them at a bark. I make suggestions to improve the overall appearances, taste and texture of some of the dishes after carefully studying the recipes and the chef readily agreed to it.

All this while I hid my identity and passed myself as a touring chef who is working on a book on the different tastes of India and Dehradun apparently fell on my itinerary. Mr Raj agreed to pay me Rs/-10,000 or 10% of the total sales (whichever would be higher) for the job - weekend lunch and dinner Italian buffet. On my way out I whispered 'ten thousand' into Neena's ear and in return she puckered her lips and blew a kiss in my direction.

The first session (lunch) of the Italian food festival was a tough one. 21 dishes were redone, 7 orders were late and 2 customers complained about the food. Dinner was quieter with poor footfall. The cashier counted Rs/-22856 in the till at day end. The team did a fantastic job but the event seemed to lack the buzz. I rang Mr Raj and told him about the situation and asked him to give me a free hand in running the show. He finally gave in when I assured that if my attempts fail to take the sales over 1 lac I would not ask for compensation.

I called a meeting before we left for home to debrief the team. I had a completely new menu for them which was designed to appeal to all the age groups. Earlier, I had asked Neena to print fliers, I handed out 20 each to everyone present and asked them to hand them out to anybody who they feel could be a potential guest to the food festival. I asked chef to pull some strings and plant a story on the food festival in the morning paper through his freeloader journalist friends.

The next day antipasti, minestrone, risotto, ravioli, lasagna, tiramisu flowed from the kitchen into the lunch/dining area. We made a gross sale of 1.57 lac - the highest ever in the history of 'Hotel Sunshine'. Neena and Joe were also among the guests.

The two days experience at 'Hotel Sunshine' took me back to 'The Nights Tail', I felt a bit nostalgic; I overcame my emotions and was looking forward to the Challenge 3 of 'The Big Race'.

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Chapter 7 - Challenge Two

We all let out a collective gasp and made gesture of frustration after reading the Challenge Two card. It attracted the attention of the people around; they all looked at us in unison. It made me nervous and I felt a bit stupid. When the news of Challenge Two had sunk a bit we all fished out the change from our pockets and handed it to Neena. She counted the money diligently like a bank cashier and announced we had Rs/-4785 left with us.

Two more challenges and God know how many more days to live off Rs/-4785. First thing we did was to look for a cheap accommodation. We were directed here and there and finally found a 'dharamshala' near the Clock Tower. It was to charge us Rs/-200 for each night/room.

We settled for a spacious but crumby room with an extra bed and blankets for which we were to be charged Rs/-50 for each night. Neena made a decision to reserve the room for five night and made an advance payment for the amount just in case we happen to run out of it; it would save us from spending the night huddled somewhere in the street.

Neena did the maths and shared her finding. We are left with Rs/-3500, that means Rs/-700 for every day and if we cut back our expenses by Rs/-200 we could save Rs/-1000 for Challenge Three.

We all slept well that night without any fear of the spirits of the dead British soldiers and officers from the graveyard in Kotgarh.

Next day we all went job hunting. Neena didn't had difficulty finding a job. All she had to do was smile and loosen the top button. She found a temporary work as a receptionist at a small hotel for Rs/-500 as daily wages. Joe with his technical skills and background joined a beat up computer coaching centre as a guest lecturer for Rs/-400 and I had no takers. I roamed around and tried hard to convince people that I can cook but none was interested in trying me out. My mates consoled me and asked me to try again tomorrow.

I stayed in and slept the whole day. When Neena and Joe came back from work, I could sense that they had patched up - I was relieved. Seeing me in bed huddled in a blanket they lost it. I calmed them by pretending that I was not feeling well. In fact I was not feeling good after the rejection.

"I have good news for you. I talked about you to the hotel GM and he is interested in promoting the 'Italian Food Festival' using your name". Hearing this I jumped out of the bed and hugged Neena and kissed her on the cheeks. Joe pretending to look the other side and coughed signaling he was not comfortable and wanted me to get off Neena immediately. I winked at Joe and left them alone. On my way out I borrowed some money from Neena - I hadn’t drunk in years.

I jumped on to the 'autoriksha' and asked the driver to show me the town and finally drop me at the best bar in the town. He took me first to I.M.A (Indian Military Academy) and F.R.I Forest Research Institute), the grandest of the institution in India. Coincidentally, these two grand institutes share the boundary wall.

Forest Research Institute (FRI) Dehradun was established as Imperial Forest Research Institute in 1906. The Institute's history is virtually synonymous with the evolution and development of scientific forestry, not only in India, but over the entire Indian sub-continent. And The Indian Military Academy (IMA) is the premier officer training school of the Indian Army. They didn't let me in but I swelled with pride looking at the smart cadets cross the road.

Then he motored the 'autorikshaw' through the Mall Road, Circuit House past the Raj Bhavan (the residence of the Governor of state) and stopped at Rajpur Road. It was the hippest of the places and the 'Hotel Sunshine' was also located somewhere on this road where I was to showcase my skills.

I decided against going into the hip bar and waste money; I picked up two chilled beer bottles from a local liquor vendor. I loitered around for a while and hailed an 'autorikshaw' back to the room at 'dharamshala' hoping my team mates would have got their rocks off by then.

[SHARK IN A POND]

Chapter 6 - Leaving Kotgarh... Hello Dehradun

Leaving Kotgarh was difficult. The tough time we had was made up by the quite and the tranquil environ of Kotarh and the breaks filled in by Jawala Ram's tales. His hospitality won our hearts.

We started early, we couldn’t afford to linger longer. I left a piece of my heart there and in turn carried the sweet memories of the spooky house, pine forest and the apple orchard. I promised to come back and see if my efforts helped Jawala to improve the apple production. I had to explore its natural beauty; three days were too less to understand the gravity of the natures abundance in Kotgarh and its enchanting culture.

The bus meandered on the serpentine narrow road till Narkanda and thereafter it was a much better ride till Shimla. On the bus ride till Shimla, I watched culture get on and get off the bus. After every turn of the mountain the people had a different dialect and looked different but their basic nature didn't change - they all smiled at silly me and my team mates (inviting us to come back). From Shimla the best and the quickest way to reach Dehradun we were told was to go to Chandigarh and then hop on to the bus to Dehradun.

On my way to Chandigarh, I reflected on my last 7 days. I felt purged of the ennui, I felt I was alive, I felt there was more to see and experience. I felt hungry for more adventure.

We learned from co-travellers that Dehradun attracted a large number of tourists as it was en route to Mussoorie and the weather is slightly warm in summers but at this time of year we would have a good time in pleasant weather. I asked Neena to lookup and read where we have to be, I looked at my watch it was 15:30; we had time at hand. I took a large bite at the veg patty which Joe had picked in Chandigarh and guzzled coke to wash it down. It was quite an economy trip and we only spent Rs/- 2000 on this journey. Neena was sleepy and a bit sour with Joe, she shoved the 'the big race'packate into my hands.

'Be in Dehradun by 18:00. At the city bus stand you would be handed the details of Challenge Two'. City Bus Stand was outside the city, we had a good laugh. We were there by 17:30, we used the time to snack and freshen up and in these 30 mins I gathered some details on the places of importance.
-Rajpura Road
-Clock Tower
-Robber's Cave (Guchhupani)
-Tibetan Temple
-Bhagirathi Resort

At sharp 18:00, someone handed 'the big race' packet to Neena. She couldn't describe him as she was not paying attention came a pat reply - I wanted Joe and Neena to patch up soon so that we can get on with the challenge.

'In the next 5 days earn as much as you can by doing whatever you are good at. This money would help you in Challenge Three,' read the Big Race Challenge - Two.

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Chapter 5 - Challenge One

I was the last one to be out of bed the next morning. I checked my watch, it was 09:00. I looked around and saw neatly folded beddings of my two team mates. The sun was making the room warm and the rays sneaked into the room through the half closed door and the half covered broken window. The room had a wooden ceiling and wooden floor, the floor creaked under my feet as I made my way out of the room. I wondered how these old houses hold themselves straight for years without buckling under the snow and the shifting rocks underneath.

Jawala Ram was regaling Neena and Joe with his stories and they seem to have forgotten that I was also with them. I was a bit miffed with them but more with the uncomfortable night in the dilapidated house in Kotgarh. Jawala was the first to wish me morning when I joined them. He appeared strangely happy and pleased; for a moment I though it was him and his devilish friends who tested me last night. I didn't discuss my experience but they all senses something was not okay with me.

Ignoring them, I quickly grabbed the tea kettle and poured tea in a big steel glass. Jawala offered 'bhaturu' (leavened traditional Kotgarh bread) which I devoured in no time and asked for more. The 'bhaturu' tasted much better then the best of the fare I have had in my life. I had three and was stuffed for the rest of the day.

Later Jawala Ram handed us the 'big race' envelop. It read: The Big Race - Challenge One. 'Jawala Ram would host you for the next three days. You all would help him weed and till his apple orchard. In case you do not finish in three day, you could either return where you came from or carry on the race after you had paid Jawala Ram Rs/- 3000 to arrange for a help to complete the task. If you abandon the task then you can't carry on with the race. On successful completion of the task Jawala Ran would hand you the details for Challenge Two'. The though of spending three more nights petrified me.

The apple orchard surrounded the houses. It was a beautiful small orchard fenced on two sides, it was well maintained but required the compulsory tilling and weeding. Jawala helped us understand what we had to do and handed us the tools. The first day we weeded a portion of the orchard which Jawala declared was 1/10 of the work we had to do. By evening we were tired uprooting the stubborn weeds, clearing the ominous bushes and the dried creepers. My whole body was sore and I admitted I might not survive three days. We had a rushed dinner and went to our corners, Neena and Joe dozed off. I remembered my last nights experience and was already sweating. I prayed till I fell asleep. The night went quietly for me.

When I woke up, I saw Joe huddled up on his bed and staring at the broken window. It appeared as if he had seen a ghost. I tried talking to him but he kept staring at the window. Neena was trying to comfort Joe but he appeared too shocked to notice her. I waved to Neena to step out, I told her what might have happened.

We discussed about these strange experiences with Jawala Ram who dismissed them as nightmares and assured us nobody in Kotgarh had ever experiences anything unusual and they were protected by the 'DEO', the village diety. His abode was the adjoining Mailan village. 'DEO Mailan' was the most powerful of all the Gods and he assured protection to who ever prayed to him. I sent out a silent prayer to 'DEO' to keep me safe.

Joe didn't step out until afternoon, Neena had to cajole him to have him lunch. He didn't join us on the orchard that day. Neena and I weeded and cleaned up the orchard of unwanted bushes and dry twigs and were left with one more day to till. We knew with Joe in shock we would not be able to complete the challenge. She did the maths and announced that after parting with Rs/- 3000 and we would be left with Rs/- 7000 for the remaining race. We agreed to take it easy and not waste ourselves tilling the orchard.

We asked Jawala to move us to some place else but he couldn't as it was the only room he had which was tidy enough to house us. With the option of moving out completely out of question we decided to stay up all night. We stayed up for a while but the days toil was too much for me - I dozed off. Last I remember was Neena comforting Joe who had his head against her shoulder.

Next morning, I was the first one to wake up and was happy that I was spared again. I sneaked out, the sun was still hiding behind the hill and the morning dew glistened on the dry grass and the trees, adding to the beauty of the cold morning. I went around Gorton Mission School, which had stood the time - the school was est. in 1943 when the British Missionaries tried to provide quality education in Kotgarh and also hoped to spread the Christian faith. In the schools compound is nestled the St Mary's Church. I felt proud to look at these two institutions. By that time the village had started walking up and I could see some of them on their way to the orchards and some soaking the morning sun with a hot cuppa. Kotgarh offered a beautiful view of the Sutlej valley and I could see the snow clad Himalayas glistening in the morning sun.

Joe joined us at work the third day. We tilled about one-forth of the orchard by sunset and were satisfied with our efforts. Back at the house, I talked about my morning visit. I had seem something which explained the nightly activities. On the other side of the fence behind the church was the graveyard - the jaws dropped when my team mates learned this. Neena feared that she might be targeted tonight. The pink on her cheeks disappeared and now it was Joe's turn to comfort her. I left them alone and went off to sleep.

Jawala Ram appeared pleased with the help we have extended. We graciously thanked him and as per the race rule handed him the money. He in turn handed us the 'big race' packet. The challenge two was to reach Dehradun by 18:00 on Nov 4th - we had 10 hrs to be there.

[SHARK IN A POND]

Chapter 4 - Kotgarh

The next day was a busy one. I toured the city like a curious tourist and was awed by the grandness of the city's heritage, culture and food. Qutab Minar was much taller than my expectation and the Red Fort was indeed red, the museums had the past saved for us and the satellite town looked real rich buzzing with glamour and imposing modern architecture - India had come of age.

I picked up warm clothes, medicines, a torch, candles, replaceable battering, rope, a Swiss knife and some more things which I though would come handy. I felt excited like a school kid who was to take on his first scouting lesson.

Neena and Joe preferred to stay in and do some homework on the challenge ONE. They gather information about the place: how to reach there, the weather, people and what could surprise us. They handed me a sheet with the details of their findings, I neatly folded it and placed it in my wallet. Neena wanted me to stay for the drinks but I was tired and wanted some time alone. I left them to discuss their life experiences.

The hotels concierge was gracious enough to keep our belonging till we return. We pooled our money, 5,000 each as asked and Neena was to keep the checks and the balances. As per the plan we checked out at 07:00 and by 08:00 we were on the bus to this quaint and quite place, Kotgarh. I pulled the paper from my wallet which Neena had given me. It read:

Distance: 82km from Shimla via Narkanda on bank of river Sutlej.
Transport: Bus service between Shimla and Thanadar.
Location: District Shimla, Himachal Pradesh. Situated 6 km from Thanedar and 18 km from Narkanda.
Occupation: Apple cultivation.
Climate: Pleasant Summers (June-Aug) with cold snowy winters (Dec-Feb)
Landmarks: Old church built by the British in 1843, Gorton Mission School, Harmony Hall, Pahari style temples, Tani-Jubbar Lake and Hattu Peak.

We were in Shimla by 17:00. When we disembarked the cold wind pierced my coat and hit me like a sharp arrow. I could smell the fresh air and people appeared much happy and content and in no hurry to go anywhere. I smiled at everybody who looked my way and they reciprocated, they didn't make me feel stupid. I declared to my team mates that I already like this place and might never go back to the Oberoi's to collect my stuff. We decided to hire a taxi to Kotgarh as there was no other mode of transport available until next morning, when the HRTC buses would roar.

The clue card said that we had to meet Jawala Ram in Kotgarh and he was to give us more information and lead on the next phase of 'the big race'.

I was glued to the scenic beauty of the Himalayas all the way to Kotgarh and couldn't blink, I had never imagined that there was place so pristine and beautiful. From Narkand we took a small byroad which wandered through the thick deodars and then through the mesmerising apple orchards. The apple tress had shed their leaves in preparation for the harsh winter and the sweet smell of the pine wafted in the air. We all gazed at each other and were dumbfound by the natural beauty of the place. We were in heaven.

Jawala Ram was in his mid thirties and lived on the forest side of Kotgarh. It took us 10 minutes to look for him - it appeared that everybody knew everybody there. He seemed be waiting for us eagerly. His sweet manners further charmed me. His house was a three storied house surrounded by apple orchard. He had animals on the ground floor, lived on the first floor and the kitchen was on the top story - a typical pahari old style house. He had 2 small kids and a lovely wife to complete his world.

He showed us to the adjoining house facing the forest where we were to spend the night. It gave look of desertion and neglect but our room was well made. We all were to stay in the same room. It was roomy enough and was heated by a charcoal fire. They got us dinner which we three devoured and slept at about 22:00.

I felt somebody walk over me, I was jolted out of my sleep. I didn't see anybody there. Neena and Joe slept quietly in their corners. I dismissed it as a nightmare and tried sleeping again. A little later I heard wailing noise coming from the forest, I was in sweat. I pressed by hands against my ears and I didn't know when I feel asleep.

[SHARK IN A POND]

Chapter 3 - The Old Fort

The Old Fort looked majestic. The ruins told a story of a glorious past and transported me to the old times... the kings, queens, elephants, horses and the grand battles. I was spellbound and it took a bit of time for me to get back to present. The time seems to have saved the ruins for this generation to drawn inspiration and make progressive plans for the future. The fort was bathed in the golded rays of the setting sun, the birds chirped and made their way home - they reminded me of my purpose there.

I found Neena and Joe outside the west gate. It was not difficult to spot them, they looked copy of the participants of the 'amazing race' - rucksack, cargo pants, bandana, trekking boots et al. They had come prepared. I studied them for a while and then walked up to them. I introduced myself with a big smile and a firm handshake. Neena gaped at me as if she was meeting Brad Pit. I do not blame her, I had inherited good looks from my mom and dad while Joe looked down on me - he was a foot taller.

They had been waiting for me for about 2 hours. At 19:00, the gate was closed for the visitors. Some of them made their way out reluctantly and didn’t want the spell to break.

A tall gentleman in a suit walked up to us and handed a bag. Before we could ask him anything he had vanished in the crowd. Neena torn it open with excitement. It had the details of ‘the big race' Challenge ONE and our stay plan in Delhi.

We were put up in the premier rooms at the Oberoi’s Delhi overlooking the beautiful golf course. We stayed there for the next two days; the staff charmed us with their hospitality. It reminded me of ‘The Nights Tail’, I concealed my emotions and enjoyed the stay.

At dinner we got to know each other a bit more. Neena flooded me with her questions: What I do? Am I married? Where I studied? Do I have a girlfriend and some more delicate questions. Her questions mortified me a little but I tactfully ducked them - watching TV does help. Joe was the reasonable type and he was busy admiring his biceps, that when I noticed he had big arms.

Neena didn't find joy in her bank job and had recently been abandoned by her boyfriend for an NRI. There was lot of anger and pain inside her. She spoke about her detachment and hate for male species and the institution which cages and stifled the minds. Neena had grown friendly with Joe and he held her hand and comforted her while she questioned the wrong that had been done to her. I nodded to show my concern and excused myself just past midnight and went off to sleep. They stayed on and drank

Our first challenge was to trek up to a small village in the Shimla district of Himachal Pradesh and pick our packet for the next challenge. We were advised of the weather and were encouraged to pick some warm clothes. We were also told to deposit our belongings with the hotel and only carry 5000 rupees. Heron we were to be provided money and things basis the requirement of the challenge.

[SHARK IN A POND]

Chapter 2 - Delhi

My friends, staff members and couple of relatives had come to see me off at the airport. They all knew I was boarding the 14:15 Virgin flight to Heathrow, where I would be met up by the representative of the college. I bid them good bye and junked the flowers and gifts in the trash can and hopped on the Jet Flight to Delhi at 14:35.

The night before, I didn't sleep. We partied till the wee hours and when I returned to my pad I was overcome by emotions. My parents died when I was a kid, my elder brother supported me all through till I started working. We were very close to each other. He was a civil servant and was posted in the North East. After he got married his focus shifted to his family but we still remained in touch and watched each others back. It was too early to ring him, I couldn't stop myself, I had not even told him what my real plan was and where was I going. He answered the phone in a sleepy tone... we talked for about an hour. I felt better. I had spent last 10 years finding my footing in Mumbai and carving a place for myself in the tough city. ‘The Nights Tail’ was my dream, it was difficult to leave everything which had taken me 10 long years to build.

I felt excited when I boarded the plane. I knew this adventure would help me get a different perspective. I pulled out the package from my handbag, I had read and reread the 'the big race' papers a hundred times but still I wanted to make sure I understood the terms and conditions well and the clue card to find my team mates.

At 16:30, I was in Delhi. The lovely air-hostess announced the temperature and wished the passengers good luck plus invited them to fly again with them. I was nudged passed by a baldy; he seemed to be in too much hurry. I wanted to kill him but pretended I was okay. I made my way out of the aircraft and thanked the lovely lady.

October is a beautiful month in Delhi and the best time to visit the city. I was greeted by the cold breeze and a beautiful winter sun. I only carried my handbag and didn’t bother to pick my luggage – I didn’t need it. My handbag had all I needed - my passport, my phone,'the big race’ packet some cash and my wallet.

The clue card described my team mates and the location where I could find them. For me the race had begun. This was my first time in the city and I was ready for the worst. I hailed a taxi and described the place to the driver.

“Be at the old fort, Delhi. Oct 28th, 19:00.” read the clue card. He gave me an incredulous look after I described to him where I wanted to be, I pulled out the picture of the fort from the packet. He could not figure out which one it was, there were many in the city and they all looked alike. He still insisted in knowing the name of the place. My adventure had begun.

We meandered around the city asking the passerby's where this place was. Some didn’t had time to help and some were prompt is offering suggestion - take left, straight, right, roundabout, narrow lane etc. etc. How helpful? Finally we pulled up beside an imposing fort with crumbly walls and a giant door. It definitely looked old as the clue card described. I looked at my watch, it was 18:45. I paid the taxi driver who still had an incredulous look on his face.

[SHARK IN A POND]

Chapter 1 - The Start

The big race had gone all wrong. "I can see some huts about a mile from here," I yelled to Joe and Neena. I was standing on top deck of the rickety motor boat which we had bought off by pawning whatever we had with us.

I had been steering it down the river in heavy downpour for nearly 2 hrs. It was a mesmerizing sight the rain had almost stopped and the hot air was rising up and turning into mist. I stopped breathing for a while, the stillness of the place seeped into my pores. I killed the engine and the boat slowly drifted down the river like a lifeless log. Joe and Neena joined me on the top deck and they gaped at the sight. It was a shallow marshy ground with long green bladed abruptly interrupted by a range of small hills with flowers all over. White birds chirped and welcomed us by hovering over our boat. "Are we in heaven or do I see trouble," Neena shrugged.

I first met Neena and Joe in Delhi. They were part of my team which was to join the big race. Neena was 24, lithe with a sharp tongue and she had more things packed between her ears them inside her cups. She was an executive with a bank and talked in questions and it didn't take much time for me to fell for her quirky nature. She was a looker and could have turned on a flagging 70 year old without any artificial help.

The big race was an experimental project. It had the jaded corporate burnouts, jerks and lunatics looking for much needed kick to propel their lifeless life's engine with excitement and adventure.

I had been gamer for long and was looking for some real adventure in the real world. I stumbled upon the advert through a gamer friend who casually mentioned it to me during one of our high charged game session which he easily won. It read, "If adventure gives you high join the race". It also said in small prints that "you might not live to regret joining the big race".

Joe was a mild mannered jaded IT engineer. He was a foot taller than me and had curly hair and big arms. Joe seemed much older than 35 but introduced himself as in late 20’s. He was a wee bit darker than my favorite dark chocolate, not withstanding his completion he was a bright bloke and knew well how to connect the dots.

Nobody had a clue about who was managing and running the show. To register, I logged on the site, filled in the details and swiped my credit card for $20000. In 2 weeks, I was sent a mail with names of people who I was teamed up with - Neena & Joe. I was asked to look up for them in Delhi with simple clue and the picture.

Ramsey was my idol when I was being grilled in the catering college to differentiate sauté from frying. He was a celebrity chef with good looks and I nurtured a desire to be like him one day. Getting a footing in the business with not easy. I worked at couple of places before I answered the call of 'Knight Hotel'. They were looking for someone with experience in managing kitchen and I fitted the bill.

I loved my job at the ‘Kitchen of Moe’. It’s a small nook in the Knight Hotel and the management neglected it until I took over. I learned later that I was the only one who answered their advert. They didn’t hope me to do miracles. They seem to have chalked out a plan to go down the bankruptcy route with or without me. However, the fortune of the Knight changed once I took charge.

Moe’s helped me give free rein to my creativity - I experimented with different cuisines. Soon it was talk of the town and I had almost everybody eating out of my hands. I grew in popularity for my style of cooking and the show and drama I put up at Moe every evening.

Time passed and I moved out of Moe and stared my start alone restaurants, 'The Nights Tail'. It went on to win the restaurant of the year for its food and service and my journalist friends kept me in news. Money and fame pulled me into the vortex of the power game and I enjoyed every bit of it. After a while things stared appearing phony to me. My interest started flagging and then one day I heard about the big game.

I took a sabbatical from work and handed the charge to the junior chef. I told everybody I had been invited to Scotland to teach at the culinary college and was also to gain some insight into the their culinary history and fares. To be honest with you, I had absolutely no interest in haggis, scones and cakes but the reason was too perfect to be challenged or rebutted.

[SHARK IN A POND]

The Greatest Fight

I was not too strong but the time had come to save my reputation and live up to my name “Sherdil”. The fight was to happen tomorrow in the scrap yard and almost everybody would be there to witness the mauling of “Sherdil” - I couldn’t get this thought out of my head.

That night, I didn’t eat my dinner. Everybody home was a little surprised; I never went to bed without finishing my meal. I looked fine and didn’t give out any signs of illness… they became more worried than surprised.

The night was cold and one could hear the wailing of the wolf in the nearby jungle. It was a full moon night and the moon washed the entire landscape in its milky rays. I had never seen a night so beautiful. I decided to sleep in the veranda. It was not usual for me sleep there; I was often found there when I couldn’t get in after having the night on town with my friends.

It might be my last day in this town - this thought pierced my heart and my eyes welled up. If I get the beating, I would have to leave this town. I had spent my childhood and my youth in the narrow lanes of this wonderful town. I fell asleep while planning for the next days fight.

I was to fight Ross. He was a ferocious Rottweiler and almost as big as me. He did not walk, he trotted - his trot was steady, full of energy with good stride. He seems to have come from a pure breed and was fed meat and special dog biscuits each day by Lala Chandu to ensure he maintains a shiny coat. Lala Chandu had got him home two years ago on his trip to Germany. Ross was reflection of Lala Chandu - intelligent, hardy and strong. From day one he had threatened my supremacy and I always wished that Lala Chandu kept him indoor but now and then on his daily walk Ross sprayed his scent to challenge my supremacy.

Ross’s stories of dare devilry had spread in the dog circles like wild fire. Every one touted him to be the next big things. The mongrels to gain his favour had been playing sycophants. They lost no opportunity to praise him and they even salute him and follow him around on his walks with their tail between their legs.

I never looked at him like an adversary but it had been build up by dog gangs who didn’t get along well with me. I was teased often about Ross being the next king of streets

The mongrels fed nonsense into Ross's head. Once Nip the scrawniest of the mongrel told Ross that I called him a jackass. On hearing this Ross went into fury and nearly flung his walker off the sidewalk. I confronted Nip and ripped his loins; he had to be carried away by the Municipal Corporation for administering first aid. Nip was never seen again. The mongrels were not stopping at this; they informed Ross that I ripped Nip as he was close to him. Ross couldn't take it anymore and wanted a face off to settle it for once and all. Scrap yard was fixed as the avenue for the big fight.

I was a gentle giant and played well with children and other dogs. I came from a long line of Saint Bernard. My parents were outgoing and sweet tempered. I inherited sweetness from my mother and even temper from my father. My father was looked up to and he managed to maintain harmony among the different dog gangs. After my father passed away the mantle was passed to me - I had been fair in my dealing with the dog matters and was well respected. This face off had a lot on stake for me.

That morning my master called me out for breakfast, I did hear him but my appetite was dead. My master was the kindest man; he had taken care of me after my parents were gone and he had never tied me down to a leash. I kept lying in the veranda. He walked up to me and first ruffled my head and then stroked by coat... I was full of emotions and cuddled up to him. He goaded me to come inside the house and treated me to my favourite biscuits.

Loud cheers greeted me at the scrap yard. My stomach was churning and my mouth was almost dry. I was a bit scared of Ross and feared that we might harm each other. He had a wild temper and the sharpest of the teeth.

I had prepared well and had rehearsed my moves. I knew when to dodge and pounce and when to dig my teeth. I had been in many fights but today’s fight was different – I was fighting for my honour.

Hundreds of dogs and dog gangs had come to the scrap yard to watch the greatest fight ever - that’s how it was promoted. The streets were unusually quite and deserted today.

Ross was already there with the mongrels. Ross seems to have given his walker a slip on the morning walk and Lala Chandu had been looking for Ross everywhere. Ross was beaming with confidence and gnashed his teeth when he saw me; I ignored him.

Without a warning Ross lunged at me. I ducked him and he fell flat on his stomach... swiftly he managed to be on his feet and turned around. He aimed for my leg, he almost had it before I gave a big push... it tore away my flesh. I was hurt and bleeding. I knew Ross came from a strong line of fighters and hunters and the only way to defeat him was to choke him. We growled at each other and he looked straight in my eyes... again he lunged at me but fell short by a foot. I hurled my whole heavy body on him and pressed his head to the ground with my big paws. Ross struggled for breath; I kept pushing down and only let him free when he was motionless. The mongrels made a quick escape when they realised Ross has been defeated and the entire scrap yard welcomed my victory.

Ross didn't move, I got concerned and used my paws to move his limp less body. Thank god he was breathing. I rushed home and pulled at my masters trouser. He knew something was not right... I led him to his car and we drove to the scrap yard. He was shocked to see a mêlée of dogs. I couldn't explain it to him. I guided him to the place where Ross was. He checked for pulse and hauled Ross into the back of his car and carried him to the vet. He also informed Lala Chandu about Ross.

I had been declared the King of streets.

Ross was back on his feet in couple of days. One fine day Ross happened to meet me on his mandatory evening walk led by his walker. Ross gave a friendly growl and thanked me for saving his life. He was a changed dog and so was I. I invited him over to the weekly meeting.

A bill was passed to maintain peace among the brothers and share the leadership and banned the usage of phrase dog eat dog.

Mr Toop

We (Pit, Josh and I) had been running for about 20 mins now. I looked back over my shoulder and couldn’t see the caretaker and even the barking of the black dog had died. We were out of breath and lost… we didn’t have an idea where we were and how to get back to the camp.

It was the 1st day of our 3 day educational camp. The class was to study the flora and fauna of this remote area, Katuna. It was believed to be the only place where there were some unique species of plants and animals which had survived the environmental changes of centuries.

“I am hungry and can’t walk any further,” announced Pit. He was the smallest and the noisiest of us all. Had it not been for his craving for the cherries we would had been noshing on some cakes with the afternoon tea. That evening we had strayed away from the camp on the pretext of a short survey of the neighbourhood.

Pit was resting against the crumbly rotting log, his sweaty and black long hair were clinging to his face and standing over him was the lover boy Josh, admiring his good looks in his pocket mirror and combing his wet hair slick a la reservoir dogs. He had more girlfriends than books he packed for school each day.

It was 6 pm, the sun had just slipped behind the Katuna mountains. “It would be dark soon… we need to find our way back. If we are not at the camp by 8 pm, Mr Toop would get panicky and the entire class would blame him for giving us a little too much leash”, Pit sounded concerned for the first time. Josh and I looked at him with incredulous expressions and we all busted into the laughter. The laughter came to an abrupt stop when we heard a shrill howl of a wolf. “Damn, it must be close. Lets find a place to hide… quick,” I shrieked. Josh pulled Pit off the log and we all rushed toward the open end of the jungle. It had a thick foliage and the tall trees… there was still some light for us to find a hiding place.

Back at the camp on learning that we are missing, Mr Toop almost dropped the book which he had brought to read on this yearly school educational camping trip. Mr Toop had been in trouble before because of us but this time if things were to go wrong Mr Toop might have to kiss his job goodbye – he remembered his last meeting with the principle.

A search party was formed. It consisted of the 5 big boys from the class, Mr Toop and the driver. The cook was made the incharge by Mr Toop and was left with a list of instructions. He unwillingly accepted the position feeling a bit proud and doled out extra custard to everybody that night.

While in the jungle we managed to find a small cave. It was almost dark by now and the howling of the wolf had stopped. “We would have to spend the night here and would have to be real quite… I have a sick feeling about this place… and these weird noises,” I said to my exhausted adventurers. Josh was ok with the decision but Pit wanted us to try to get back. We shot down his idea, it was too fraught with danger. Josh pulled out a cigarette and flicked the lighter; we all took deep drags and passed it around... I had a stub in my hand by the time it reached me on the third round - we all felt a bit better. No one spoke for the next hour. Josh removed his jacked and handed it to Pit so that he could use it for pillow. Pit was giving signs of fever and he soon dozed off.

Josh and I decided to take turn to watch out for any wild beast while others slept. I decided to guard first and asked Josh to sleep. I tried to be alert for a while but the days adventure was too much for me and didn’t knew when I slept off.

Mr Toop and the search party had a much better time… they had carried with them baskets of fruits and food for dinner and torches for better visibilities. They got to the cheery orchard and learnt from the caretaker that we had indeed been there and he chased us away before we could pluck some from his orchard. He pointed in the direction we had fled.

When I woke up, we three were in a small cage and were being carried off into the heart of the jungle by dangerously looking brown bodied scantily clad tough men with spears. They looked like the tribal’s of yore. I looked at Josh and then at Pit, they were pale with fear and Pit seemed to have cried his heart out. We were shocked and couldn’t believe how we have landed ourselves in this mess. They had tied us down to the cage and had smeared ash all over our faces. “ They are going to eat us”, Pit started sobbing.

We could hear the drums beat treacherously, the sound grew louder and louder. I had read many a stories where they carried the trespassers into the jungle, make the catch eat good food and later roast them and have a merry dinner of human brain and heart. On hearing this Josh and Pit nearly puked. I told them we need to maintain our wits and keep close and anytime there is an opportunity to escape we would flee.

The tribal’s were led by a leader. He was as broad as tall he was. His appearance was ghostly – the white painted face, a feather crown and tens of colourful beads around the neck and not to mention a menacing look. The tribal’s carried us towards the source of the noise. We could see the big fire from where we were – we started praying in unison, death was definite we thought.

There was a huge assemble of the tribal’s – men, women, children and animals. We were let loose near the big fire and were signalled to keep our head down and follow the leader. Everybody seemed to be shouting their lungs out… I could already visualize us on their plates, roasted and garnished. Suddenly the drums stopped and everybody was quite. We were confused… we looked around… the tribal’s were on their knees. From the canopy shaped shack emerged a beautiful girl followed by the tribal soldiers. We were motioned to bow our head by the leader who brought us here. The princess took up the high seat. We were pushed forward towards the princess… the leader announced something in the local lingo and pointed at us now and then. The princess looked at us intently and smiled… we looked at each other clueless if to smile back or not.

There on, it was a change of fortunes as I had read in the tribal stories. We were treated much better and fed lamb which had been skewered over the big fire with some pungent and sharp alcoholic drink. There was dance, music and noise; we eat and drank like hungry wolves enjoing our last meal.

When I woke up Mr Toop was standing over me. They had combed the entire forest all night to find us bissfully cuddled up in hay and looking rested. There was nothing around no princess, no leader, no tribal and no sign of anything. We narrated the entire episode to very annoyed Mr Toop on our way back to the camp but he found the story difficult to believe.

“We never came across the cherry farm on our way back Mr Toop,” I casually remarked.

Mr Toop stopped and looked ashen. It appeared as if someone had robbed him of his colour. He ordered everybody to pack up - we were leaving back for school.

Jugnu

It was a special day for most including me in the village. One of my cousin brother was getting married to his love from the adjoining village. He had to wait five long years before he could convince the family; the girl did not belong to the same cast. He overcome odds and the mores of the society to marry her.

The house was beautifully lighted. Streamers of small blinking lights and shiny paper strips ran all around the house giving it an appearance of a well lit night sky. One could also smell the fresh coat of paint which added to brightness under the shimmering lights. The place was buzzing with excited chatter and laughter. The womenfolk had finally got a respite from the incessant housework and chores and the men were busy making arrangement to receive the bride - the 'barat' which was expected any moment. The kids were not to be left behind, they ran around chasing each other; the place provided an excellent playground for hide and seek.

This story is not about the wedding. It’s about Jugnu, the village drunkard. I happen to meet him when I was looking for a hot cup of tea to keep myself warm on that chilly October evening.

Jugnu looks out for these special occasions as he gets to drink as much as he can without any care. Everybody in the village felt that he has destroyed himself while Jugnu blames it on the time.

"Do not delay punditji, I want to get married in this life", Jugnu jokingly pleaded with the punditji. "I am busy today... don't worry we would sit someday soon and talk about it", said punditji trying to avoid Jugnu. Punditji gave him a slip and disappeared in the merrymaking wedding crowd.

Jugnu had withered with time but still towered over the gentle folks of the village; he was at least a foot taller than most. While I settled on a comfortable chair with my cuppa of tea, Jugnu was going on with his monologue after punditji had left the stage. He tried to hide that he had been drinking but his breath gave it away.

“You tell me sir, what should a man like me do when these girls pursue me to marry them? I have three chasing me but there is this one girl who is after my life. I have to get this done before I bid adieu to the world”. To be polite and save myself from offending him I nodded and smiled. Taking this as a cue Jugnu pulled a chair next to me and continued.

“I was one of the best volleyball player in the school. I could spike the ball just next to the net in the opposition’s court. I was lauded and touted as the volleyball prodigy. I won many a shields and trophies for my school. As the fate had it, I tasted this bloody alcohol.

My grandfather and father did well in education and were looked up to in this small part of the country but I dropped out of school. I couldn’t even get past the 10th standard. I wasn’t too bright a student and couldn’t differentiate geography from history. I didn’t apply myself and fancied myself to be the local hero; it was my choice or my fate. Once I had no association with the school my chances of making it big in the volleyball circuit were gone. I had no choice but to help the family in the fields. I failed again… I couldn’t set my mind on doing the field work and preferred the company of the villager loafers and today I lead them.

If I would had been married at the right time, I would had couple of kids today.

I want to get married and I can’t delay… I am 39 and have been drinking for past 21 years. I have met many beautiful girls and have had a good time with them. They strayed me but I do not blame them. I still remember this fair frail girl who I met when I had been to Calcutta looking for a good price for my farm produce. When away from home it was a secret ritual for us youngsters to look for a prostitute and have a good time before we come back to the villages and and went back to doing the same thing over and over again. It helped us to exploit our youth and taste freedom.

I fell for her and wanted to marry her. She was a Muslim, she was too beautiful - straight from heaven… I couldn’t take my eyes off her and was charmed. Without a thought I asked her to marry me. She though I was joking but when I proposed again she was taken aback... I feel I was the only man who had been kind enough to make this offer to her. She told me that she was a Muslim and it would be impossible for them to get acceptance. Moreover the pimp would not let her slip; if he finds about any plans to escape the city he would slaughter both. I even lied and tried to pass myself as a Muslim from Ghaziabad to counter her objection. She was amused by my feeble attempt and laughed her head off. I looked on while she had a hearty laugh - I had never seen such a beautiful laughter in my life.

She could see the love and desperation in my eyes to possess her for life. I wanted her to run off with me. I tried to argue and convince her that religion and caste are man made; to the almighty all are equal. She refused to run off with me... she feared for my life. She asked me to have a good time with her and when I was about to leave she handed me 1000 rupees for my journey back home. I was heart broken.

Each day I remember her and drink to her… I could have been somebody had it not for the bad times. No man is bad; it’s the time which is good or bad”.

I barely drank the tea while he told me his story… I was moved and tried to sympathize with him by mumbling some comfort words. I could no longer look into his moist eyes.

“The 'barat' is here… they have brought the bride… she is beautiful", someone shouted and broke my attention. Their was noise and commotion all around. Jugnu went on with his monologue while I left the place to watch the splendid 'barat'.

Red Roses

I resisted calling her. It was too early – she was a late riser. I hired a taxi and picked some red roses on the way home. She liked roses and the red were her favorite. I decided to catch her leaving for work; her carpoll used to come around 10 A.M.

Their was a spring in my step. I was excited about my decision... I felt free of the guilt that I had carried around - it was a redemption day. I had Elton John crooning 'can you feel the love tonight' on my music system; I hummed along. It was 9 A.M. I had an hour to shave, shower and eat. Then the phone rang - it was Vijay. "The case information has leaked to the media. They are all outside. I do not know what to do", he sounded nervous and scared.

The news of 'tiger killing' was over all. The media had found their breaking news and the opposition party a chance to get back at the ruling government. It besmirch the image of the ruling government, they ran for cover and in haste disassociated themselves from Sh. Lal Chand.

"Avoid saying anything. If you can't, tell them 'the crime' is under investigation and it’s too early to make any comment. Tell them as and when we would have more information they would be briefed", I offered him the simplest of the advice from my experience facing the media. I also asked him to stay calm and look good for the camera. "Oh! shup up", he snapped, he didn’t take the ‘look good for the camera’ advise kindly.

“And get out of there as soon as you can", I asked him changing my tone.

The 'tiger killing case' was played over and over again on almost all the news channels. Most of them presented it tastelessly; I felt pity for the poor viewers and the dead tiger.

I called up the Boss to apprise him of the situation. “What is Vijay doing there? Why did you let him stay?...” He was concerned and asked me more questions than I expected. I assured him that I have spoken to Vijay and briefed him and he would be out of Junna soon. Boss was more concerned about how he would handle the journalists. I got caught up in the whirlwind of the case. I lost sense of time.

It was 12 P.M. The roses had lost their shine and looked limp. Kavita would not have liked them - I flung the bunch in the trash can sitting next to my writing table. By that time the excitement to meet her had turned into anger and helplessness.

I tried her number and was greeted by the message, “The phone is out of coverage area…” I tried again and then again and again and felt frustrated. I had to tell her what she was to me. It felt heavy and I wanted to get it out of my chest. I rushed to her house only to find it locked. I turned home and slept off; I was exhausted by the day’s events.

Loud knocking on the door jolted me out of my deep sleep. I checked my watch, it was 8 P.M. I opened the door to find Vijay and Kavita. Vijay looked shaken and tired - he had a long day. He handed me the files said goodbye to Kavita and left. She walked in quietly.

We didn’t exchange a word for the next 30 minutes and then she broke the silence. "I had to rush to Junna to cover the story... Vijay told me everything”, I could feel the warmth and admiration in her words. She walked over to the trash can and picked up the bunch of limply dead roses. She looked at me and said,"they are beautiful". I looked into her eyes, she still loved me and was ready for a new start. I took her hand and pressed it tightly.

2. The Dead Tiger

It was 6:30 AM when we reached the rest house. The 'chowkidar' at entrance was still huddled up with the blanket on the stool. He displayed amazing balance and managed to recover his fall each time he nodded off a little too much on one side.

“Chor, chor …” Vijay hollered and woke up the sleepy skinny 'chowkidar'. I was familiar with his silly pranks… it didn’t amuse me however it did upset the 'chowkidar' when he realized it was a joke played on him.

We were led in the rest house and then into the big twin room after we had signed up the visitors register. I flipped the pages to see who all have been here recently; most of the names were unfamiliar, however I did recognize Sh. Lal Chand who had been in the rest house about five days ago.

I slept off as soon as my tired body met the soft mattress. Vijay stayed up. He was hungry and asked the caretaker to rush some 'aloo paranth' and tea while he worked on the case. We had to be at the office of District Forest Office at 11 AM to dig deeper into the tiger killing case.

“Damn, do you want to sleep all your life? We have to be at the forest office in another 30 mins. Come on wake up…” I had heard it before. Vijay was arranging his shaving kit and looked quite dapper in his new blazer. I rushed into the bathroom and was out in 10 mins and still Vijay was busy, this time arranging things in his bag. I was out of the room much before Vijay. I beat him again.

D.F.O sahib had sent us his Jeep. We were in his office by 11:30. D.F.O sahib was barely 40 and looked quite sharp in his suite. I felt awkward in the company of two well dressed men. We were soon discussing business.

The forest guard had found a dead tiger near Sandhu yesterday morning. Sandhu was about 10 Km from Junna. After post-mortem it was found that the tiger was shot twice in the stomach and died a slow painful death.

The report said that it appeared the tiger was shot by a party of amateur hunters who didn’t chase the tiger after shooting. The tiger must have roamed around with his injuries for 3 days and died of hunger and thirst.

We were asked to inspect the dead tiger before it could be disposed off; it had starting putrefying. I couldn’t stand the stench however Vijay inspected the dead tiger like a true professional. He made observations in his little notepad. Next step was to summon the S.H.O of the area. He made a sheepish entry into the room and shared the details of his investigation and details of the people who own a licensed gun in the area. His observation was that the tiger could have been shot by the Billu gang of poachers… as they only possessed latest hunting rifles.

Vijay was diligently recording the details of the interviews. He interviewed anyone and everyone who was brought into the room. Some of them had seen the tiger, some had touched it and some had merely heard about it.

I was drifting between thought of Kavita and the dead tiger. The dead tiger had some kind of effect on me. It compelled me to a bit philosophical and takes a rational view of life’s choices and decisions before it was too late. I made up my mind to see Kavita’s as soon as I was back and ask her to marry me.

I looked at my watch, I was getting impatient. It was 4 PM. We were getting nowhere. S.H.O was definite that it was Billu gang but there was no proof to support it. D.F.O sahib shared all that he had seen and was told.

“Did you check if we have had any visitors in Junna lately?” I directed my question at the S.H.O. “We have had many since Sh. Lal Chand got the ministry. He is a true ‘junta ka sewak’. He has connected this sleepy town to the entire county by train and has spent crores on improving the roads and schools…” S.H.O seemed as impressed as me with Sh. Lal Chand’s achievements and work.

“I mean last week”.

S.H.O was taken aback. “Sh. Lal Chand was in rest house about 5 days ago. I would want you to check the purposed of his visit. Who were with him? When he checked in and when he left? And you can start with the caretaker of the rest house.” There was silence in the room.

We thanked the D.F.O sahib for his time and came back to the rest house followed by S.H.O.

On questioning, the caretaker informed that Sh. Lal Chand came late in the evening with a party of 5-6 men who talked among themselves in English. They had dinner and left in the night only to return early in the morning and left the rest house after having lunch. All of them appeared to be excited about something they had done in the night.

I directed the S.H.O to work on the lead.

Vijay wanted to stay the night there but I had Kavita on mind. I took the last train out of Junna and all along prepared myself to propose Kavita. I was back at the railway platform which I left a night ago. The mongrels and the hawkers were back and busy with their business. I looked at my expensive Swiss made wrist watch. It was 7 AM. A bright day awaited me.

1. The Train Journey

It was quite dark. I looked at my expensive designer Swiss made wrist watch. I smiled and felt proud to own it. It was the only expensive thing that I owned apart from my huge collection of books.

It was already 9 PM and if I did not have the package in another 30 minutes - I would be dead by morning.

The railway platform was deserted and one could only see the mongrels rummaging for leftovers in the overflowing garbage cans and the hawkers in rush to close their shacks and rush home to the comforts of their wives and fluffy quilts. It was unusually cold for October night.

I digged into my bag and pulled out J. D. Salinger’s ‘Catcher In The Rye’ and pretended to read it. It was my favourite book; I had read it a hundred times… I adored Holden and his disdain for superficial and phony.

I had been to no better and phony a place then Pencey. Though Holden managed to escape it but I could not wriggle out even after repeating a couple of grades. I improved with time. My school seemed to love me and didn’t let me go – it stuck to me like a leech.

What I am today is not entirely to be blamed on my alma mater, even my parents need to share the blame for dragging me through the corridors of the best of best educational institutes.

I am a professional crime fighter. Don’t confuse me with the ‘men’ who have fancy prefixes and suffixes and bulging muscles, rather I have an ordinary name and almost no muscles to flaunt.

The government secret agency inducted me in their 22nd batch of the super stealth sleuth after umpteen tests and examinations. I was trained with a group of 25 youth; most of them didn’t survive the gruelling training and those who survived today brag about being the best in the profession. I am attached with the unit who has been chasing the gangs of poachers and smugglers since its inception on the suggestion of the fifth government of independent India.

“Sorry, I am late. I couldn’t get anybody to drop me here. I had to do a taxi… I hope I didn’t keep you waiting”, she interrupted my thoughts. She handed over the big packet to me. She looks as beautiful as ever. I wanted to kiss her on the cheeks but before I could say something she had disappeared.

The train was scheduled to arrive at 9:30 PM. I went back to reading the book on the cold bench. By 9:15 PM the hawkers had packed up and left and the few of the mongrels had huddled up and found a cozy corner. The train was to stop for 3 mins at the platform before it would speed to Junna. I had to look for my compartment; search for my seat and settle down in 3 minutes.

This was not my first travel by train but was my first to Junna. Junna was a sleepy town in the foot hills of Himalayas and its only claim to fame was Sh. Lal Chand, the sitting MP. A pot bellied middle agent seasoned politician who managed to snag an important position in the ministry. Had it not been for him I would have had to buy ticket till Tarapur and then look for a local transport to help me reach Junna. It’s an open secret that he threaten to defect to the opposition party in case his government was not read to connect Junna by rail to the rest of the country.

It’s not easy to travel in Indian trains. Firstly, the trains have no arrival and departure time; secondly one is not sure if he would sit on the seat he booked and reserved or would he just get to rest his half a moon on the Rexene seats and lastly one has to tie his belongings to oneself for obvious reasons. Now that I had the package in possession, I was assured I would be safe.

At 9:30 PM, I could hear the long whistle of the train signalling it was approaching the station. I picked up the bag and the packet. I shoved the book in the bag and secured it with a Velcro. The train came to halt after a lot of huffing and puffing. Not many were getting off… I rushed towards S7 bogey. I had seat 54 reserved for me. As I steeped on the footboard, I heard Vijay calling my name. I didn’t expect him to be there as he had been on a sick leave for a month – he kept his embarrassing illness secret from everyone but me.

In nick of time I pulled him in. He was out of breath. “Boss wanted me to join you. I have some important and classified papers in the bag for you”, I didn’t pay any attention to him and was annoyed as it was supposed to be a solo assignment. He knew that.

We made way towards seat 54. It was the side seat with a sleeper berth. I was travelling sleeper class as the unit only reimbursed for 2nd class. Vijay flashed his ID card and said something in the ear of the passenger on seat 53. He quietly picked up his cheap plastic suitcase and scurried. I didn’t see him after that and never asked Vijay what he whispered in the ears of the man.

“By five we should be their. We have a twin rooms booked in the rest house. I got some papers which you should look now… it would help plan the day”, Vijay tried to start a conversation. I was in no mood for chit chat. I had a long day and wanted to catch on my sleep. “You study them and make a list of things we need to do tomorrow, while a rest a bit”, I said and jumped on the upper berth.

It was awfully cold. I only had a sweater on... I was asked to rush to Junna while I was on my way back from Rampur. Rampur was comparatively warmer and pleasant. I phoned Kavita to meet me at the station. Kavita was my estranged girlfriend but was still kind to me and helped my once in a while.

Kavita was a journalist with the leading newspaper. I met her about a year ago when she had been chasing some facts on the poaching of the Tigers in the Kumaoo hills. I likely her exuberance and bully nature… she persisted and chased me all around for some sound bites. I could have avoided her but was attracted to her charm.

Our meeting frequency grew and we dated for about couple of months before she introduced me to her family. I made it a point to meet her and her parents when I was in town; my job involved a lot of travelling. We could have been married had it not been for my father who strictly opposed it citing economic divide and culture as the reason. My mother also sided him. My relations grew bitter with Kavita who felt insulted and we decided to move apart though I could never move on.

The jerky movement of the train and the cold seat made me squirm; I didn’t feel rested. I was using the package Kavita handed my as pillow. I pulled it from under my head and undid the thread that kept it together. There it was my tweed coat wrapped up nicely in a newspaper. I put it on.

“Damn, do u want to sleep all your life? We are at Janna. Come on wake up… hurry… I am hungry and cold… I need a warm cuppa tea…” Vijay appeared irritated and was talking to himself while he was arranging his stuff in the small bag he veritably carried on all his sojourns.

I jumped off the berth… picked up my bag and was out of the bogey much before Vijay. It was a cold morning. I walked to the nearest tea stall and asked for 2 cups of tea and some 'mathi'. I was on my 2nd 'mathi' when Vijay reached the stall. After dawdling for a while I paid the stallwala and walked out the station gate.

There was no transport in sight. It was too early. We were told the rest house is about two kilometres away. We could have either waited for the town to wake up or walk. We agreed to walk. We asked for directions and walked toward the rest house.

All along Vijay extolled about the virtues of walking in the morning. I nodded just to keep him talking with an occasional remark or two.

Junna was much better than I had imagined… It had the pukka roads and dustbins along the road to prevent littering and not to mention the 'Sauchalaya' which would put the Delhi administration to shame. Sh. Lal Chand peeked from here and there with the big broad grin to greet you in his constituency.

“There it is”, I shouted. I was glad to see the rest house. I was tired and hungry and not to mention sleepy. Had Kavita not given the packed to me I would had been dead. I missed her.

THE LION

“I want to drive a big truck, just like Jugga”, I chimed to my friend Kutu.

Each day we used to spend hours on the highway which divided the village in uneven halves watching the lorry and trucks on their way to some place called Mandi. I had heard father talk about Mandi in reverence. It was some kind of a place where the farmers carried their produce and haggled with the brokers and dealers for a fair price.

Jagga was the tallest and the strongest of all the village youths. He was very popular with us kids. He used to get us candies from the town and regale us with his adventure stories which we all lapped up with awe and great admiration. He owned and drove this big truck which could be heard about a mile away. Occasionally, he would drive us around the village; I so used to wait for these rides. He was my hero.

On that fateful day, Jugga started early to pick wheat from the nearby village and dump it in the Mandi before the sun was up. Jugga never reached Mandi.

It is said that he got into an argument with another trucker over jumping the queue. They pounced on each other. The trucker couldn’t match Jugga’s strength and got a good thrashing. It didn’t end there… when Jugga turned around to get into his truck; the trucker stabbed him in the back repeatedly until Jugga was on the ground in pool of blood. The trucker is still at large.

The day Jugga died the entire village was enveloped in gloom. We lost our hero. It has been about a year since Jagga passed away but he is still remembered. His tales of adventure and bravely have been retold a thousand time.

On one such idle day while we gaped at the passing traffic a truck screeched to halt near us. The burly driver and the cleaner got off the truck. It was a rare site to see a truck stop on this busy highway. We rushed to side of the truck and watched them inspect the truck.

“Did you know Jugga”, I proudly asked the burly driver who was under the truck. “Who”, he shouted. “Jugga the lion”, I said. “Oh yes! I did. I was the one who carried him to the hospital. He caught his leg in the truck door and fell on his head. By the time we reached the hospital he had passed on”.

We looked at each other and quietly walked back home.

THE BOOK

It smelled musty and had layers and bundles of papers. On close inspection they appeared to be stories/poems/novels etc. My first thought was to junk the box but something stopped me. I spend the next couple of nights sorting and arranging the papers. They were in longhand and pretty neat.

Just for lark, I mailed one of the stories to the editor of the local weekly. I had him knocking on my door the very next day. He profusely praised the the story and compared the writing to the best in literary world. I had hit the 'JACK POT'. I never looked back and used the books and stories judiciously over the next 20 years.

Today, I have everything but no more book in the box.

THE LOCK

Mr. Brown was not the usual one - he walked with a limp and had layers and layers of clothes. He carried 2 identical boxes with him. I nearly sprained by back when I lifted them. I dragged both of the beat up boxes to room 222 on the 2nd floor facing the river. I wasn’t expecting him to tip… I was taken aback when he shoved a bill of 10 in my hand; I wished him good stay.

He stayed in the hotel for a week and made my run around a lot and never tipped me. He fondly started calling me 'BOY' and waved at me each time he left and entered the hotel. I was assigned to help Mr. Brown check out of the hotel. The 2 fat boxes gave me the chill. I dragged them to the elevator and followed him. He didn’t look his usual self that day.

While waiting for the taxi on the porch Mr. Brown whispered something in my ear. I couldn’t get it as he used to lisp. Before getting into the taxi he asked my to only put 1 box in the boot and keep the other one. He called the captain and told him that I was to keep his box and he would personally pick it up in a couple of months. I gave him my address.

It had a big fat lock on it. I used the box as a makeshift coffee table. I decorated it with a sequined table cloth and a small vase. KP stumbled over it a couple of times and cursed me for putting it the middle of the room.

I was expecting Mr. Brown to show up any day for his box. It had become a part of the room and our lives. Couple of years passed… KP moved to another city and I to a decent tenement and was no longer an apprentice. I had given up hope of Mr. Brown returning to collect the box. I no longer required it. So, one day I broke the lock open.

OLD GRUMPY MAN

I skipped college and hung with a gang of hoodlums and felt cool. Each gang member was ambitious and wanted to control the streets on that block. I lost interest when the gang members starting becoming less ambitious and were getting married. I drifted away.

By that time I was kicked out of the house and was sharing a cramped room with this skinny boy. He was a nice guy with good habits. He used to introduce himself as KP. I never asked what his name was; I met KP in a cafe where he overheard me talking that I was looking for a cheap place to stay for a couple of months. He walked over and offered to take me in as a room mate and split the rent. I agreed without a thought; it was one of the good decisions I had taken so far in my short life.

KP worked at a plush 5 star hotel. He was in accounts or something. After I ran out of money he fixed a job of apprentice for me in the hotel. I had to help the guests with their luggage and run errands for them - BELLHOP. My easy job was made difficult by my title "the apprentice". The oddest and the dirtiest of the job were shoved at me by the other bellhops. I was never allowed to help any of the fat tippers and only got to lug the stuff of the stingiest and the cheapskates.

The days slipped fast. I got busy with each passing day running errands for friendly, rude, curt, threatening, demanding, polite... guests. It was winter before I could ask myself to take a break. I had saved a bit by that time and KP had staring showing some signs of good health. Then one cold evening an old grumpy man checked in.

THE LETTER

I have everything today. I am the most read writer of the last two decades. I have presidents and prime ministers for friends. I only stay in the best of the best hotels when I travel and if I can’t find one of my liking, I fly to my nearest luxurious apartment or villas which I have almost in every capital of the best world. Some I bought and a few I got as gift. I was married twice… but I am not Salman Rushdie.

I didn’t write my first book at eight or 12, I wrote my first one when I was 30. I was not great at almost anything and that is what worked for me; I didn’t have any pressure to study a particular subject and focus on a particular career. I was driftwood.

“You would be nothing one day”, that what my mom shouted at me when she couldn’t get me to take up a law course. She didn’t know that I would be nothing but a writer of the greatest stature one day.

My first attempt at writing was at 16. The hormones were at peak and there was pressure to be seen with the best girl. I had a one in a million chance to be seen with the best but I had a soft corner for the second best. She had the best smile and the top of the line attitude to top it up. I fell for her… it just happened. I wrote a love letter which was never posted and never read by her.

BROTHER

He was born when I was 10. He was my darling but my parents always had problems with him. The bigger he grew so did the complains. I always felt that my father had an axe to grind – he couldn't stand him. Each spring he sprang up and was growing bigger and stronger.

I kept an eye on my father; I feared for him. I once dreamt that father performed a war dance after hacking him. I saw he got me while I was sleeping and tied me to the bed post to avoid my resistance while mother watched with a broad grin. I begged and cried to spare him... I cried my eyes out but father seemed to be under some spell. Father performed a war dance immaculately and hacked him. He shamelessly continued his celebrations till the wee hours of the morning while the entire neighborhood watched.

I woke up in sweat and was shouting, "don't kill him, don't kill him", I had tears in my eyes. I looked around and breathed a sigh of relief that it was a dream and rushed to the window. I felt peace.

He had not come from their seed.