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Little Drop In Wild Rain
Little Drop In Wild Rain

© Pranav Jain


9 Minutes   2.9K    386

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Little Drop In Wild Rain

By Pranav Jain


"So what do you think is the difference between truth and lie?" asked Raghav finishing his story of Akbar and Birbal.
I have heard this story nearly a thousand times since my childhood. But I still answered this question of him.
"The same as the difference between eyes and ears, most of the time the ears lie and eyes tell the truth."
Enjoying rainy season with samosas and bhajiye is one of the best thing you could have.
I, along with my four other friends, bunked the E D lecture and came to our adda, Raju Bhaiya's shop. There are many such shops in this area but we usually come to this shop. Raju bhaiya is our friend now.
Every time we come to this shop he tells us a story or discusses the present tour of Indian cricket team.
And we used to get the knowledge how Kohli should play or on which shot Rohit Sharma is getting wrong .
Sometime we feels that he should coach team India.
 There was a small Dargah near the shop on the second gali. KhajurWale Baba ki dargah.One can see everything going there.
Today Raju Bhaiya was taking more time than usual, we were eagerly waiting for our hot samosas, bhajiya's and chaai.
In the midst of our usual talks I skipped a few moments to look around at the market and the chores going there.
In the rainy season one can expect a lot many people having umbrellas and raincoats in their hands.
Suddenly I saw a man in front of the Dargah his eyes seems to lost in the small single roomed Dargah.
I admit I saw him many times in the area but this was the first time I actually observed him.
His eyes were filled with tears. Maybe of a former mistake or a pain of not achieving something. This was the only thought I could possibly think.
Well I must say he was one of the few persons I could say a pure and real devotee I have ever seen and I don't need any proof to tell that you can say that by looking in his eyes.
He fell on his knees and burst in a huge cry. My whole attention was now shifted on him.
Meanwhile our samosas arrived taking a hot bath in oil. And our chaai came following them.
I asked Raju bhaiya about the man. He said "He said he has seen more pain then you can actually think in your whole life.
You guys are right now filled with dreams and hopes but what if you lost everything you have."
His words created a lot of interest in us and we wanted to listen the story of the man with a magic in his tears.
Raju bhaiya started "
His real name is Pankaj Manohar Sharma, a brahman by birth and education."
"What?? really" asked Arpit in a sudden disguise.
Raju bhaiya continued "He used to live in Bhagalpur Bihar. He was the second of the four children family including a elder sister and younger sister and a little brother

His father was a clerk in housing department. Time was hard for his father to run a family of six with his small income.
He was just like you when he was younger he too love to chill out with his friends bunk classes and steal mangoes from local farmers. Because he was grown in under a high caste
Hindu family he ultimately developed a hate for Muslims.
He was a bright student and topped in almost whole of his academic career. Opted for B.Sc in Chemistry.
It was around 1988-89 Pankaj took his final year exam and was sure about a good result. Just like all fathers his father also expected a bright future for him.
Before the final result he gave interview for a known chemical firm. He was sure that he will definitely clear his interview and will support his family.
He was a ideal family boy but everyone has a dark side and he too had one. His hatred for Muslims.
He with his high class friends use to make fun of their customs and believes. On the tea shop they use to sit and comment on them.
And finally the day came he was the university topper. The firm he wanted to work in was owned by a muslim. Pankaj was selected for the job
he was very happy and celebrated it. But after sometime before joining his position was given to another muslim boy of abilities less then. He was in
such a anger that he can't think of anything but revenge.
To lighten his mood his friends took him to a park. But on that day there was a rally of a Hindu leader he was actually a state leader of a party 
national level party even the prime minister herself knows him. He on the loudspeaker was saying "they are not from our country they
even took Pakistan and Bangladesh from us they have no right to live in our country. India will always be our country we must take it back from them."
His words were so commanding that all of a sudden the whole crowd burst into anger and started marching towards the giri muhalla and kill any muslim they see on 
their path. The Muslims too joined the path but on the other side and they too in anger started killing every person coming in their way.
Within few minutes the whole Bhagalpur turned into a warfront. Anger seems no bounds and it took everyone in its lap from a small unborn child to
a old man on his deathbed. It was like either kill or get killed. Nobody seems to follow the path of the god but everybody was fighting for him.
It gave Pankaj a chance to take his revenge of not getting the job and not been able to support and take care of his family. There were more like him
in the crowd. Not all of them wanted to fight for religion but they just wanted to fight for fun, for revenge, for love. He searched for 
the person and after so many hours he was able to find him. The muslim was giving water to a old dying lady. Pankaj found a sword lying near a dead body and ran towards
to stab him. Just before he could kill him he saw dead body of his elder sister lying in front of him he could not bear the death of his sister and he dropped the weapon
A few seconds or a few minutes later police came and arrested him on the charge of creating riots and killing his own sister.
Before he could understand anything he was in the police van.
On his way to police station he saw mothers weeping over the bodies of their younger children some kids were so small that they could hardly speak. Bodies of old persons
.Teenage and younger girls were lying stabbed and bleeding. Meanwhile the police were giving protection to the politician and took him to a safe position as soon as possible
and the common means were still fighting for them.
After around 6-7 months later the Politician was given bail on the health issues and Pankaj was sentenced a jail of 20 years.
He father died in grief. He was not able to bear the loss of his two children neither he could afford to get bail for his son.
His mother lost all her money in legal offences and the whole family came on road.

Pankaj was repenting on his act. He cried a lot. His fear of losing everything came true and he lost everyone in his life. In his hard time his prison cellmate
a around 70 years old Iqubal Ibrahim Raja, who was  charged for murdering three people , was there to console him. Just like his father he supported him in his
hard time.
After a month or two Pankaj became used to of this jail life.
He and Ibhrahim chacha used to sit together for long hours discussing their lifes. While telling Ibrahim chacha about his life Pankaj felt a shame.
But Ibrahim chacha said you were not in your consice that day and it was not actually your fault.
One day Ibrahim Chacha told Pankaj about his crime he said " Around 20 years ago I was a family man just like I had my parents my wife and a son just like you. I was taught from my
childhood to fight against crime and for to fight for our rights. I raised my voice against a corrupt politician. He scented men's to kill
my whole family and while saving my family I killed three of them but they killed whole my family.
I was sentenced to be hanged till death but later they changed it to lifetime. And that's how I got here."
After three years of their eternal relation Ibrahim chacha died of a unknown disease.
Before death he taught Pankaj all about Islam. Pankaj was the only one who cried on his death else nobody cared.
After completing his punishment Pankaj was left in the whole world alone. He searched for his family found his little brother turned into a big man
and his younger sister got married to a boy in Banaras. He saw his mother face for the last time and without actually meeting to them he headed towards the railway station
. You know the path from jail doesn't goes back to home .On railway station he saw a train to New Delhi. He didn't have had any money to buy tickets and on our railway station T.C
caught him took him to jail after two more days of jail he sat on his journey to search for a job or something so that he could earn a little and to not die of at least
hunger. On his way he saw a Shiva Mandir but he did not had the courage to go inside and ask for removal of all his sins.
Then he came to this area where he saw KhajurWale Baba ki Dargah and in he reminds of the words of Iqubal chacha and stated banging his head on the stone in front of the 
Dargah. And started crying blood started to flow from his head and he said O' Ya Allah Reham bhaksho.I know your heart is full of love and you will forgive this young 
child of yours.
People around the area started to gather and a muslim family stopped him from doing this and wiped his tears. But he was still crying. They bought him milk and
took great care of him. And from that day he take care of the Dargah and its his ritual to clean Dargah every morning. He also works as a daily wage labour and earns just 
enough to get meal two times a day. And lives in a small hut across the Mahatma Gandhi road."
"It's really a sad story" said Pulkit.
"But what about the politician ? Is he alive?"asked Deepak.
"No he died around five years ago. On his funeral he was awarded with the tag of one of the most secular leader!!"
"What really!"said Rohit.
I stood up and moved towards the dalaan or small garden outside the shop and turned towards the Dargah. The thought of the condition of the old man made me sad.
I thought about his tears they were sign of pain of repentence or the satisfaction of forgiveness.
I was standing in between two worlds one has the dreaded truth that was on the roads asking for belief or the lie that was enjoying all the lavishness of life.
These thoughts filled me with fear, fear of wrong. There was rain in the clouds, in the eyes. And suddenly my friends bought me back to the my present world.
"I am going I'm not feeling fine in here" and then put my raincoat on and took out headphones and went to home. My mobile was playing the song "Mujhko yeh jindgi.........
Lagti hai ajnabee.........chhanh bhi ...dhoop bhi....har ek pal hai nayi.........."


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