The Adventures Of M.A.A.R.S.

We had the best friend circle ever. It consisted of the finest chaps with diversity like no other. I belonged to Gujarat. Aiyar was an honest boy from Telangana. Matthew was from Mizoram. Sheetal was a ‘Kashmir Ki Kali’ from Srinagar and Ritu was from Madhya Pradesh. But first, let me introduce myself. We called the group M.A.A.R.S.

 

I am Akul Chand. All of us had just gone past the storm of 7^th standard and were getting ready for our new session of class 8^th. As our Second evaluation came to a halt along with the seventh standard, we were super excited for class eighth and especially, for the summer vacations. It was a bright and beautiful day of the spring season. We were in the playground that day, just a week before the school to start functioning. We were deciding the activities for the vacations. Aiyar suggested going for trekking for 2 weeks. Sheetal gave an idea of doing some funny science experiments. Ritu recommended going for a sightseeing of the nearby area. Matthew suggested that we should stay at each other’s place for a week together. It was consented by everyone. A perfect idea, as usual.

 

So, we decided to start with my house. Papa, Mr Neeraj Chand was a bureaucrat to the Union Finance Minister. He had a major hand in all the decisions taken by the FM. Aiyar and Ritu were keenly interested in Economics, so they were busy talking all the time about it. As the Annual Budget of this economic session was closing in, papa allowed us to watch the proceedings of the Parliament while the Budget was being presented in the parliament. Listening to our politicians was a good experience. But even after all this; the keenly interested Aiyar and Ritu were insatiate.

 

Even papa knew that we were going to get bored within our first week of vacations and it would just destroy our excitement in the first go. So we decided to go to the Amer Fort, visit it and go for a trekking to the hill nearby. The palace of Jodha Bai was magnificent. As was the garden and the temple. And now the time was for trekking.

 

The hill near the Fort was not much high, but high enough to make us pant for breath. It was a steep climb, and a slippery off-road path to reach to the top. I slipped nearly 5 times, Aiyar for 4, Matthew, Ritu for 3 and Sheetal for 6 times. Papa was just saved from falling off the slope.

 

It was a tricky climb. When we reached at the top, the scenery was magnificent. When reaching the top, in the front was a steep valley, from which if anyone would fall down, he or she had the least chance of survival. Papa didn't bring the climbing rope with him, saying that it wouldn't be needed. All five of us were just watching Jaipur from a safe distance on the top. Ritu, out of excitement stepped a little further to see what was lying down. Sheetal even warned her, but she was busy in her own tune. Suddenly, her foot slipped and she fell down. “Ritu!” cried Sheetal and went to the same spot from where Ritu fell to save her. Even we rushed to her. She was clinging to a little loose stone, crying for help. There was no way to save her, as father had forgotten to bring rope. We searched in the surroundings. Aiyar found a jute rope lying over there. Long enough for Ritu to cling to it and us to hold it and pull her up. We did so. Ritu was too terrified to catch the rope. She wasn't getting ready to leave the stone. But it was loose and it was going to get out of the hole in which it was. We all persuaded her to do what we say. Somehow, she gathered some strength to cling to it. As soon as she got it, we started pulling her up. She was finally brought up to the surface. She was terrified. But we had a sigh of relief. Our first week ended up adventurously.

Next it was Matthew’s house's turn. Matthew’s father, Mr Jonathan was the GM of the powerhouse of East Delhi. A man with a great sense of humour and a golden heart, he was a renowned engineer of the region.

 

It was our fifth day at Matthew’s house. We were having a mini Hasya Kavi Sammelan (funny poet's meeting). Suddenly there was a power cut. We all got afraid. Simultaneously, uncle’s phone started ringing up. The Sammelan was on a standby for a few minutes. When uncle picked up the phone, the joy on uncle's face had gone. Beads of sweats were rolling down on his tensioned forehead. We asked what happened. But the answer was a hasty need of getting ready. He rushed out. We asked aunty why he was in such a hurry. She told that there was a huge fire raging across the wires. Although the reason was unknown, but it was burning down everything in its way. We urged to go and help uncle. Aunty was totally disapproving, but somehow, we persuaded her to let us go.

 

We grabbed our cycles and paddled towards the power station. It was at a distance of a mere 2 kilometres from Matthew’s house. When we reached there, the scene was horrifyingly terrible. Electric cables were breaking down. Bright sparks were flowing out of the broken poles. The vicinity was afraid. Although in such situations, it is always advisable to put off fire either using sand or fire extinguisher. As using water may get some people get electrocuted. But these panic stricken people were putting off fire with water. A big mistake. They had lost their patience and hours and days of training for this particular situation were all in vain. There was no sight of Matthew’s father. We thought that he might be in control room. Sheetal saw a glimpse of uncle’s back moving into the head office. It was a large building. Sheetal turned to tell us. Then, we heard a shattering explosion. All of us turned to the source of noise. The head office. And the explosion took place on the ground floor. The floor where uncle was standing, probably.

 

Soon fire-fighters reached the scene and started placating the fire. Matthew started losing consciousness. “Matt!” I cried and rushed towards him. I and Aiyar caught hold of him. He was a brave boy. For once he had saved a school bus from a terrorist attack. And he had been awarded bravery award by the Jaipur Municipality. But what happened to him right now was a secret.

 

All the people from the office were evacuated. Along with a safe and sound uncle. We had a sigh of relief. But uncle lost all his relief when he found his only and beloved son unconscious. Ambulances started pouring into the power house to relieve the injured. Matthew was taken to a nearby hospital. All the 350 people were safe. Including 50 injured and Matthew.

 

Our second week at Matthew’s was well spent. Now it was the turn for Aiyar’s house.

His house was a typical South Indian house. Decorated with ‘torans’ (wall hangings at the doorway) of mango leaves and beautifully decorated,  flower made Rangoli, Aiyar’s house was filled with the fragrance of incense sticks, sometimes of Mogra, rose, sandalwood etcetera, as a part of daily rituals. Each day started with the ringing of the bell and chants of aartis & mantras, devoted to the Balaji.

 

But the family was not a typical South Indian one. Aiyar’s father was a kind hearted orator. Thus he did the most suited job for him, a job of journalist. A brave and honest journalist.

Recently, elections for the state governments were held. An astonishing 97% voting percentage showed the enthusiasm of the public for a change. Votes were captured in numerous EVMs to decide the fate of nearly 20,000 candidates.

 

When we were enjoying our second day at Aiyar’s, uncle was busy in searching the statistics. I was quite interested in journalism, so I started talking to him about his profession. He told me that it was not a child's play. I expressed that it might be difficult to manage during elections. He said, “Remembering from elections, I am allowed to take 6 people along with me. So I just wondered if you all would come.” The only moment for which I waited. Soon all five of us along with Aiyar’s Mother consented on going to the newsroom.

 

We were in the newsroom of NDTV 24X7. The situation was heating up. I started having Goosebumps. The politicians were frantically trying to answer the to-the-point and pretty straight forward questions. Along with it, the trends were coming along. With BJP probably controlling 2 states Congress was estimated to control two other states. The trends for the fifth state were still coming.

 

“You promised the voters that you would give them free bicycles and laptops. What would be its source?” asked uncle.

 

“Well it depends upon the policies to be formulated after the government formation.”

 

“You must be having some framework for the policies and the decisions to be made.”

 

“What kind of framework? It wasn't a part of our manifesto!” said the illiterate and dumb spokesperson.

 

“Okay, let's keep it aside. Nearly eighty out of 340 candidates are relatives of some of the senior most and most important politicians of your party. Have you done this for keeping them happy?”

 

“We have seen potential in them.”

 

“What kind of potential? 35 of them are not even 8th grade pass. 25 are already having several cases of theft, murder, molestation, scams and everything else on their head. With 9 of them already in jail. 14 others have tried to manipulate the voters on gunpoint and bribery. Rest 6 of them haven't declared their assets yet. And you see potential in them?”

 

The spokesperson was dumbfounded. And just like this, several questions were asked which were unanswerable for the politicians. Soon the results were declared. The trends were precise. Except for the trend of the fifth state where a confused janta gave no majority to any of the political party.

 

Our exciting week at Aiyar’s was spent nicely. Then we moved towards Sheetal’s house.

 

Sheetal and her family were facing the difficulty in getting acclimatised to the warm climates of Jaipur. The local hot winds or loo was one of the most common causes for most of the diseases in their house.

 

Sheetal had a single parent only. She lived with her 5-year old sister and her mother-cum-father, Shamali. Shamali’s husband left her when he found someone else. He didn't even care about the two daughters as he had always wanted a boy. But with the nerves of steel, she took care of her daughters. She knew that this might be the condition of other women in the society too. So she took up the cause and started fighting for the rights of woman along with lower caste. Because she knew that their condition was not good. She herself was from a lower caste. For this purpose she founded the organisation called ‘Haq’. She is the founder as well as the president of this NGO. For awareness in the society, she conducts several rallies in the nation. She was conducting her one of her two rallies in Jaipur when our 4th week at Sheetal’s was going on. She allowed us to join the second rally in Jaipur. Well, Matthew and Sheetal were super excited, whereas we were only interested. But we enjoyed shouting slogans and meeting people. Like this we enjoyed with the good hearted aunty in her Kashmiri house.

 

One day, aunty was free of her NGO work. We were getting bored. But aunt's mind had cleverly organised something to help us overcome our boredom. She decided to teach us the folks of Kashmir. Well, although, we were finding difficulty to get our feet tapped and our hands clapped at right time of the right rhythm, but we actually had tried to intermingle with the culture of our very own ‘Crown of the Hindustan’. To mark the last day of our visit in her house, she took us to an amusement park. We were very happy to go there. The rides, the screams, the joy, everything was unforgettable. Our Fourth week at Sheetal’s was spent nicely.

Now our final destination was Ritu’s house. The ‘modhi’ of M.P. was the brightest girl amongst us. She used to get the highest marks in our class. She is also the apple of the eye of many teachers. Her father, Brijmohan Shukla was a professor at the University Of Mass Media And Journalism. So, he and Aiyar’s father were close friends. It was our second day at Ritu’s when uncle took us to one of the seminars on the topic ‘Budding Journalism’. It told everything about the profession and how it was getting popular in the young generation. As usual, I enjoyed. But what seemed fascinating was that even Matthew and Sheetal seemed to develop an interest in journalism.

 

Ritu had once told us that her brother was the head of Sariska Tiger Reserve. He had also informed Ritu that whenever she wanted she could come with her friends for a tiger safari. Her brother agreed but only on one condition, that no one would urge to go near the tigers if they are encountered in the path. We had to agree to it because it was the only way to make our summer vacations a little bit more productive. So, we went on.

 

It was an approximately 7-8 hours journey to Sariska. But this wait was beneficial. For the first time ever in our life, we were able to see the tigers roaming free in their wilderness. Not caged, but independently living tigers. We were so damn excited for it. And we were happy when we got there. The journey was memorable. If there would have been anyone with a camera, he would become a professional photographer without any skills. We enjoyed watching the tigers.

 

And thus, our fifth and final week at Ritu’s ended.

 

However this journey would have been, but there is one thing which we all have learnt as an important lesson for our life. It is that not everything, everyone and every place are the same. Neither the families are same, nor their culture, heritage and the legacy. People have diversities between them. But it is this diversity that keeps filling the life with colours of rich heritage, interesting dialects, holy rituals and diverse culture on the canvas of unity. Whether it is Me, Matthew, Aiyar, Sheetal or Ritu, we all enjoyed at each other's house and have taken a new experience and a new lesson as a token of love with us. A new branch of knowledge and wisdom had shot out of the seeds of life.

Well, for me, in a nutshell, this vacation was the best one in my life.