Seven Events & One Story

21.02.1991, 18:00 hrs., Raipur Bihar

Two teenagers sat in the twilight by the murky river that ran through their village. One of them was better dressed, the other wore a tattered set of clothes.

‘I’m leaving tomorrow, for the city. One of my far relatives is financing my college expenses. Some of the fees will be borne by the college itself. What about you? Why don’t you join me?’ said the boy in the clean set of clothes.

The other boy had a pock-marked face and a glum expression. ‘What will I do yaar? I need to find a job soon. Baba is sick and we don’t have enough food at home.’

‘Tell you what, why don’t you write to me? Promise me that you’ll visit me at least once a year in the city. Maybe you can do some odd jobs there. Someday we can move to that magical city on water, Mumbai. Earn enough so we never see the ugly head of poverty again.’

‘Dreams mere bhai! Dreams do not make a man!’

Both of them shared a grim laughter on that. They sat in silence absorbed in each other’s company. It was the last evening of a shared companionship, one that either of them treasured.

Fate was to take them in opposite directions until the day they would meet yet again.

Twenty Five Years Later………………

16.06.2016, 11.00 hrs., Adinath Slum colony, Jogeshwari

Sai Mishra stood adjacent to his tea-stand in the sweltering sun. Sweat gleamed like pearls on his face and there was a scrunch of lines on his forehead as he frowned. There were fewer customers in his stall today.

‘What happened Chacha?’ Chotu drawled in his unique lazy tone, the one that the neighboring kids somehow found very cool. They tried hard to emulate his style and stance, which further emboldened him to ape his favorite film star, Amitabh Bachchan. ‘Rishte main to hum aap ke bete lagte hain, magar naam hain Chotu,’ was his favorite line.

‘Tomorrow is Diya’s birthday,’ Mishra’s eyes were downcast, ‘and I have no money to get anything for her. The last of what I scraped yesterday and borrowed from Ginny Bhai was used for her school fees.’

‘Arre Chacha, why do you worry? Thanks to RTE (Right To Education), you have got her admissions into one of the best schools in Andheri. She will definitely not sell tea after growing up. Isn’t that the best gift?’

‘Phir bhi. Something special for my Diya bitiya. She will expect na?’

Chotu’s wicked eyes gleamed and he put his hand on Mishra’s shoulder. ‘I have an idea.’

The next morning, Mishra hugged his daughter and whispered into her ears. ‘Happy birthday to you, my little one.’ Diya was six years old and bright for her age. He had a lump in his throat as she tightened her arms around his neck. He had great plans for her. Someday she would be a world famous doctor in AIIMS, daughter of a poor tea seller. One of his far cousins was a compounder in AIIMS, he was, perhaps the most spoken about and well to do person in his family lineage. He imagined the future so vividly, that he believed it to be an eventuality. No doubt, Diya was intelligent and talented, but the proud father believed that she was a cut above the rest of the kids in his poor slum colony at Jogeshwari.

‘Where is my present, Papa?’

Sai made a big show of opening a present in the air. He folded and unfolded an imaginary cloak and wound it around Diya’s neck.

‘Where is it?’ Diya’s excited voice squeaked in anticipation.

‘It is an invisible cloak, beta. It has magical properties and will protect you from any harm. I ordered it especially from Chandni Chowk in Delhi. You know that is very faraway and we have to travel by train to get there.’ Mishra’s eyes were glassy. He wondered if his young daughter would buy his story.

Diya squealed in delight and ran out to play. ‘Ye! I’ll tell all my friends. What a wonderful gift Papa gave!’

Mishra heaved a sigh of relief and smiled.

18.06.2016 16:00 hrs, Joggers Park, Bandra

A pretty young woman sat in a public park along with a man. They sat in stony silence. The quietness seemed to have a louder voice than the breeze that surrounded them.

A little girl playing in the park approached the woman.

‘Hi Aunty, how are you?’ the girl spoke in broken English. Her glance was shy, but there was a bright gleam in her eyes.

‘I am good, how are you?’

‘Good,’ she gurgled. ‘Did you know, I have a magician’s cape?’

‘Where is it?’ the young woman played along.

‘It is invisible,’ the little girl whispered. Both of them laughed together in a conspiratorial mode.

‘Here, do you like Cadbury?’ the woman extended her hand with a Dairy milk chocolate holding it.

‘Papa says to not take chocolates from strangers.’

‘Well, here is what I suggest, you take this chocolate to Papa, show it to him and if he says ok, you can eat it.’ She smiled into the little girl’s eyes. ‘Along with him.’

The man seated next to the woman directed a hostile glance at both of them.

The girl felt intimidated, whispered a shy ‘Thank you’, and ran away.

‘Don’t you have better things to do than to talk to riff-raff from the slums?’

The young woman’s eyes grew angry. She took a couple of breaths to compose herself. ‘So now, you will control whom I talk to? Don’t you have anything better to do?’

They looked at each other in the eye, two warring souls, never in agreement on anything, anymore. She then wondered, when was it that the love had died between them? And if, she had anything to do with it.

19.07.2016, 03:00 hrs., Ariante Bar, Bandra

They were Mumbai’s posh couple and ruled its swish set. A swanky address in Malabar Hill, pots of family money and influence made a heady combination.

He walked into the Audi. She was already inside.

‘What is it? Did you have too much to drink?’

She gave him a searing look. ‘I’ve got to get to work tomorrow morning. Unlike yours truly, my parents didn’t spoil me with a silver spoon.’

‘Look who’s talking. How much did your parents pay for that seat in college? Oh! Now that I remember, it was I who paid. How can I forget?’ He sneered at her.

She took a deep breath. ‘Let’s go home. If you create a scene here, it will be all over Page 3 tomorrow.’

The engine purred to life. To irate her further, he put on some loud music on the stereo. The Audi zipped in speed through the streets of Mumbai.

‘Go slow. You’ll kill someone!’ she snarled.

‘I run this city. Those are small risks.’

His arrogance was suffocating and she felt a sense of claustrophobia enveloping her.

It was all over in a fraction of a second. They heard a loud thud and in slow horrific motion, she observed a figure floating in the air. The victim landed on the side of the road.

‘You hit that man!’ she whispered. Fear glazed her eyes and paralyzed her mind.

He stopped the car and looked around. The road was deserted. He pressed the ignition in a decisive stroke and sped away.

‘Stop!’ she screamed ‘You should have taken him to the hospital, you maniac!’

His hands shivered. ‘No no, it is too risky. If he is dead, I could land up in jail.’

She drove back that night, trying to locate the victim. She remembered the exact spot, but there was nothing to be found. Perhaps, she consoled her distraught self, a Good Samaritan had taken pity on his condition and transported him to the nearest hospital.

19.07.2016, 09:00 hrs., Tarachand Hospital, Bandra

Two young men sat near a stretcher. They looked tired and gaunt. ‘Help, Help! We have an accident victim. Somebody ran over him yesterday night.’

A woman walked in rapid strides towards the duo. She wore a doctor’s coat. ‘What happened?’

‘Doctorji, we have been waiting for more than four hours now. We have an accident victim. Somebody ran over him yesterday night.’

The Doctor called out one of the folks in reception. ‘Shyam, take this victim to casualty, he has already lost a lot of blood! Quick!’

The staffer was surprised. ‘We can’t take him Ma’am. We haven’t even IDd him yet.'

‘Do we not follow Supreme Court rules? Let’s treat him first!’ Her voice was loud and strained.

‘But doctor, what about admin?’

‘I’ll handle admin.’ The lady doctor gave the staffer a steely glance, melting his resistance. The victim was taken to the Operation Theatre.

The two men waited outside. Their clothes were soaked in the victim’s blood.

‘Doctor, how is he now?’

‘I’m….sorry, his condition is very critical. Do you know of any next of kin, who can be notified? We are transfusing blood now. Let’s hope that it works.’

The men looked at each other and then at the Doctor. It was then that one of them noticed, the tired dark circles under her beautiful sad eyes.

‘His only known relative, his daughter Diya, is admitted in this hospital with a kidney ailment.’

20.07.2016, 15:00 hrs., Tarachand Hospital, Bandra

Dr. Ritwik Singh glanced at the ceiling of his room and laughed.

‘I can’t believe you find humor in this,’ Sheena’s tone was tired.

‘Well, look at the brighter side. Somebody is going to get very very lucky.’ His eyes twinkled with mirth.

‘There is a crowd of people waiting to meet you,’ she sighed. ‘Your former patients…’

‘I’m tired. Besides, I don’t have time for theatrics. They can display their antics in the prayer meeting. Please remember to invite them.’

‘Raisha is here. She is adamant, won’t leave without meeting you. Do you want me to send her away too?’

The doctor sighed. He was Mumbai’s most loved psychiatrist.

The door opened and a girl stormed inside. Her eyes were red and swollen and the tears flowed unhindered.

‘You …..you….are a cheat!’ she blurted. ‘How dare you leave me to rot here while you enjoy the fruits of heaven?’

Dr. Singh gave a wide grin which evolved into a throttled chuckle and then full blown laughter.

‘Well, natural selection, obviously. Some more privileged than others. Not everybody makes the cut, beta.’ His voice was gentle, the humor stifled.

She hugged him without preamble and almost choked him with her vice like grip. He and Sheena smiled at each other in a conspiratorial manner.

A nurse arrived and handed a sheaf of papers to him. ‘Sir, here are the consent forms. Also attached is an information booklet, in case you need more information on….’

The three of them glanced at each other and then at the nurse. They burst out laughing. The nurse gave them a puzzled, hassled look and hurried outside the room. The entire Singh clan is crazy, she mumbled to herself.

28.07.2016, 10.00 hrs, Jogeshwari crematorium

The young woman and the middle aged woman walked out of the crematorium. Each of the women held an urn of ash in their hands. They walked to a white car parked outside the crematorium.

They drove to Marine Drive, and then sprinkled the ashes in the tempestuous waters by the bay.

They sat on the Tetrapods, observing the bay in silence.

‘So what's next?’ the middle aged woman asked.

‘The adoption formalities.’ Tears rolled down the young woman’s eyes as she glanced at the sea. ‘Diya is my Farista, my Nanha Farista. Perhaps she will redeem what is left of my soul.’

30.07.2016, 10.00 hrs Press Release on Page 3 magazine

Grapevine has it that power couple Dr. Aditi and businessman Amit Singhal are heading for a divorce. Amit is under investigation for a hit and run accident in which the victim Sai Mishra lost his life. Aditi has opted to be a state witness and has moved for adoption of the victim’s daughter Diya Mishra. Supporting her case is famous psychiatrist and Counsellor Dr. Ritwik Singh’s wife, Sheena Singh. We learnt that after Dr. Ritwik Singh’s death due to cancer, his kidneys, apparently in pristine condition were transplanted to Diya, daughter of Sai Mishra. Diya suffered from a serious kidney ailment and was admitted in Tarachand hospital. Her father Sai Mishra, incidentally was brought into the same hospital on 19th morning, injured in a hit and run case. Only time will prove if Dr. Aditi’s action is remorse or publicity. CARA (Central Adoption Resource Authority) is currently investigating her ability to provide parenthood to Diya. In the absence of any known relatives, she has been placed in temporary foster care of Sheena Singh. Mr. Mishra before his death apparently signed a document of custody that empowered Sheena for foster care of his daughter. Supporting the transplant case was the fact that Dr. Ritwik Singh and Sai Mishra were estranged cousins belonging to Raipur village in Bihar, who met each other in a situation of strange coincidence, before they breathed their last in Tarachand hospital, Jogeshwari.