Dev 'D' by Ashay Anil Walambe

Dev 'D'

“समाजात मनुष्याला इतक्या वाईट परिस्थितींना सामोरं जावं लागतं की, त्याचं आयुष्यच बदलून जातं!’’ खरंतर लेखाची सुरुवात कशी करावी ह्या वर खूप विचार केला, पण मग “आयुष्य, समाज ,ह्या जगात…’’ असे फंडे मारले की, लेखाला थोडं वजन येतं असं मला वाटतं.


असो... तर काही महिन्यांपूर्वी मी चेन्नईला एका इंटर्नशिपसाठी गेलो होतो. एका जाहिरात कंपनीमध्ये अनुभव घ्यायचा होता . त्यासाठी मी साधारण १-२ महिने आधी जायची तयारी सुरू केली होती. चेन्नईला राहायची सोय, तिथलं Work culture ह्याबद्दल बराच विचार आणि हालचाल सुरू होती.

Ashay Anil Walambe

“तिथलं वातावरण खूप खराब आहे ! ’’, “ अरे रोज इडली खावी लागेल!’’ ,“तमिळ सिनेमे अन् गाणी ऐकावी लागतील ! ’’, “Office मध्ये सगळे मद्रासी लोक असतील! ’’ अशी वेगवेगळ्या लोकांकडून सारखीच वाक्य ऐकायला मिळाली. 

बरीच फोनाफोनी केल्यानंतर एक फ्लॅट मिळाला. त्यातून रूममेट हा महाराष्ट्रीयन आहे हे समजल्यावर तोच finalise केला. २२ तास प्रवास आणि रिक्षावाल्याशी (यशस्वीरीत्या) हुज्जत घालून रूमवर पोचलो.

‘तो’ सामान घ्यायला खाली आला होता. (ह्या ‘तो’च आणि पुलंच्या ‘तो’ चा काडीमात्र संबंध नाहीये.)

उंची सधारण ५ फूट ३ इंच... एक लूज T-shirt आणि Bermuda. ती नावाला Bermuda होती, त्याच्या उंचीमुळे त्याला ती थ्रीफोर्थसारखी दिसत होती. मला माझ्या लहानपणीची  आठवण आली. संघाच्या शाखेत जायचो... तिथे घालावी लागणारी चड्डी अशीच होती. “नमस्ते सदा वत्सले मात्रुभुमि…’’ सोबत “चला जाऊ संघात, एक चड्डी दोघांत’’ हे म्हणायला शिकलो...

पण ‘तो’च्या चेहर्‍याकडे बघून ‘तो’ कधी संघात गेला नसेल अस उगाच वाटलं मला.

“काय रे कसा झाला प्रवास? घर सापडायला काही Problem तर नाही ना आला?”  त्याच्या प्रश्नाने मी भानावर आलो.

“अरे प्रवास एकदम छान ! ह्या रिक्षावाल्याने थोडा त्रास दिला ,की luggage चे extra पैसे द्या पण मी logically त्याला explain केले की, बाबा रे माझ्यासोबत अजून काही लोक असते तर तू extra पैसे घेतले असतेस का? हे त्या रिक्षावाल्याला कितपत पटलं मला माहीत नाही पण
ஔஹ்ச்ஜ்ப்க்ஜச்த்பைல்கஜ்த்னஹ்த்லஜ்ச்ல் असं वाकडं तोंड करून बोलला आणि निघून गेला.”

“अरे इथल्या लोकांची mentality खूप वाईट आहे.’’ –  ‘तो’ने माझी एक बॅग उचलली.

मला तो म्हणाला त्या वाक्याचा प्रत्यय नुकताच आला होता. घर शोधताना ज्या बिल्डिंगमध्ये मला जायचं होता त्या बिल्डिंग समोरून किमान ३ वेळा गेलो. त्याच बिल्डिंगखाली एक म्हातारा उभा होता. त्याला पत्ता विचारला तर त्याने चक्क माहीत नाही म्हणला. आणि आता बघतो तर काय ? हा म्हातारा त्याच बिल्डिंगच्या ground floor ला आपल्या galleryतून बघत होता. कदाचित त्याला एक सुंदर मुलगी असेल आणि आमच्यात 
काहीतरी होईल ह्या चिंतेने त्याने मला पत्ता नीट सांगितला नसेल! 

मी लगेच त्याची मुलगी कशी असेल आणि २ महिन्यांत आमच्यात काय होईल ह्याचा विचार करायला लागलो.

“अरे ते non-tamil लोकांशी बोलतच नाहीत, हरामखोर साले” ‘तो’च्या वाक्याने मी पुन्हा एकदा भानावर आलो.
मला त्याचं म्हणणं एकदम पटलं. “खवचट म्हातारा साला!!!”

“तू lucky आहेस, आजच रूमवर TV आणि DTH कनेक्शन लावलय” 

“वाह!! क्या बात है! म्हणजे football worldcup बघता येणार.’’

चला म्हणजे रूममेट मराठी, ground floorवर सुंदर मुलगी (असेल अशी अपेक्षा, इच्छा, प्रार्थना) आणि रूमवर TV, असं ऐकल्यावरच छान वाट्लं. आता फक्त रूममध्ये गेल्यावर छान अगरबत्तीच्या धुराने आणि घमघमाटाने स्वागत होणंच बाकी होतं, अस म्हणत रूममध्ये शिरलो आणि खरंच धूर होता... पण cigaretteचा!

इनमीन १०X१०ची खोली एका कोपर्‍यात सगळे कपडे ओसंडून वाहत होते. दारूच्या बाटल्या छान रचून ठेवल्या होत्या. Ashtray म्हणून newspaper खोली भर पसरवलेले होते. खिडकीमध्ये सगळे कपडेच कपडे होते. त्यामुळे अंधार होता. त्यातून खोलीचा रंग हिरवा.

“तू येणार म्हणून खोली आवरली!!’’ तो.

मला आता काय reaction द्यावी, खरंच कळत नव्हतं. हे जर आवरलेलं असेल तर आधीची परिस्थिती काय असेल?? मला imagine करवेना. (मला माझ्या खोलीची आठवण आली :-) )

“आयुश, तू drinks घेतोस का रे?” (मराठी ग्राफिटी आठवली –  ‘हा प्रश्न आहे की आमंत्रण’)

“कधी कधीच, काही occasion असेल तरच, आणि माझ नाव आशय आहे, आयुश नाही.” मी (मला ह्याचा खूपदा अनुभव आलेला आहे. ‘अक्षय’ , ‘असाय’पासून ‘अशोक’पर्यंत माझा उद्धार झालेला आहे.) 

“अरे sorry, असो आज drinks घेणार?” – तो.

“नाही रे, आज नको.” – मी

“मी घेतली तर चालेल? काही problem नाही ना तुला?’’ – तो (घरातल्या दारूच्या बाटल्या बघून हे प्रकरण ‘occasional’ नसून ‘regular’आहे हे समजत होत मला, पण जोपर्यंत आपल्याला त्या गोष्टीचा त्रास होत नाही तोपर्यंत चालू दे म्हटलं. )

“छे रे... problem कसला त्यात, (फक्त पिऊन उलट्या न तमाशे करू नका), काय विशेष आज?’’

“माझ्या परी चं बारसं आहे आज…” शांतपणे दारूची बाटली उघडत तो म्हणाला.

“परी?”

“माझी मुलगी”

“अरे मग तू इथे चेन्नईत काय करतोयेस? ठाण्याला नाही गेलास?”

“झक मारतोय, सुट्टी नाही.” तो (शांतपणे).

“अरे मग bossला सांगायचं ना... २ दिवस द्या.”

“मित्रा तुला अस वाटतंय का की, मी हे विचारल नसेल?”

“मग?”

“माझी इथे transfer झालीये एका महिन्यापूर्वी... किमान २ वर्षं तरी इथेच आहे.’’ हे सांगत असताना त्याने एक 
मोठा puff मारला. “...असो... तु सांग घरी कोण कोण असत तुझ्या? किती दिवसांसाठी आलायेस?”

“आई-बाबा, २ महिने… आणि एक महिन्यपूर्वी म्हणजे ? तुझी मुलगी होती किती दिवसांची ?”

“११”

“त्यानंतर ?...”

“एकदाही नाही बघितलं…” माझं वाक्य पूर्ण व्हायच्या आत तो म्हणाला.

“पण मी बघणार होतो तिला. माझ्या येणार्‍या २ महिन्यात...’’

दोन quarter आणि एक पाकीट cigarette संपवून रात्री १२ला त्याने घरी फ़ोन केला आणि त्या १.५ महिन्याच्या परीशी गप्पा मारल्या. त्याने तिच्यासाठी चेन्नईहून चेन पाठवली होती. आवडली का विचारत होता....

तिच आ... उउउ... ऊऊऊ एवढंच ऐकून ‘तो’ तिच्याशी संवाद साधत होता.

पुढचे दोन महिने मी हा संवाद रोज ऐकला... एवढंच नाही तर बायकोशी होणारे वाद, “मी नीट आहे, तुम्ही तुमची काळजी घ्या…’’ असं बाबांशी खोटं बोललेलं, “खूप भूक लागलीये गं आई... तुझ्या कार्ल्याच्या भाजीची खूप आठवण येतीये गं’’ (कार्ल्याची भाजी खूप छान लागत असेल अशी माझा समज झाला)... तिकडुन fax कर ना भाजी…” उपाशी पोटी आईशी बोलणं, कट्ट्यावरच्या मित्राला “मी गणपतीमध्ये घरी येतोय तेव्हा मिरवणुकीत नाचू” ह्याचं आश्वासन!

 तुम्ही म्हणाल की, हे तर बर्‍याच लोकांच्या बाबतीत घडतं. पण माझ्यासाठी ही गोष्ट पहिल्यांदाच घडत होती .एका बापाला “ plz… मला परीचा निदान फोटो पाठव... पाया पडतो मी तुझ्या…’’असं रडताना पाहिलंय... हे सगळ झाल्यावर ‘तो’ खाली जायचा… एक पाकीट cigarette, एक quarter घेऊन यायचा... “आयुश, तुला त्रास नाही ना रे होत? मी प्यायलो तर चालेल ना?’’ त्याचं guilt  मला दिसून यायचं...

“छे रे..problem कसला त्यात?” पण ह्या वेळी तुसडेपणा नव्हता.

दुसर्‍या दिवशी येताना एक उदबत्तीचा पुडा घेऊन आलो. रोज रात्री त्याचा ठरलेला प्रश्न –

“आयुश ,प्यायलो तर चालेल नं?”

“हो... पण एक cigarette नंतर एक उदबत्ती लावायची...” ही एक अट घातली मी त्याला. त्याने ती पाळलीदेखील.

सकाळी आठला घर सोडायचो आणि रात्री आठला घरी यायचो. मी juice पिउन आणि ‘तो’ either दारू पिऊन किंवा दारूची तयारी करून, पेप्सीची बाटली, एक plastic चा ग्लास आणि ‘दारू’. (specific असा brand नाही, मुळात चेन्नईमध्येमध्ये सरकारनेच  दारूला permission दिलीये. त्यामुळे local brands खूप आहेत)..

एक दोन वेळा त्याला emotionally blackmail करून दारू, cigarette कमी कर सांगायचा प्रयत्न केलादेखी. पण "कौन कम्बखत दर्द बर्दाश्त करने के लिये पिता है, हम पिते है क्युकी timepass हो सके" त्याचं कारण हेच होतं. पिऊन out झालाय अस कधीच झालं नाही.

त्याला एकूणातच चेन्नईबद्दल राग होता. त्यातून मुंबईकर असल्यामुळे ते शहर सोडून चेन्नईत बदली होणं त्याच्या जिव्हारी लागलं होतं.एका चांगल्या TV channel मध्ये कामाला होता. लग्न झालं होतं. बायकोला दिवस गेले आणि recession मध्ये ह्याची नोकरी... दुसर्‍या ठिकाणी job मिळाला आणि त्याची परी जन्मली. पण चेन्नईला transfer झाली. परी लहान असल्यामुळे आणि इथलं वातावरण एकतर वाईट त्यामुळे तो एकटाच इथे आला...

“इथल्या लोकांच्या घामालादेखील सांबार आणि रस्समचा वास येतो.” थोडक्यात काय, तर इथलं खाणं, लोक, शहर यांबद्दल त्याचं मत वाईट होतं.

त्याउलट माझं होतं. Return ticket तयार असल्यामुळे थोडेच दिवस काढायचे होते . पण  तो एखाद्या black hole मध्ये अडकला होता.

मी रूमवर जाताना मानसिक तयारी करुन जायचो. cigrette,दारुचा वास, फोनवरची भांडणं... पण... पण त्यादिवशी काहीतरी वेगळंच घडलं. घरात शिरल्यावर उदबत्त्यांचा घमघमाट, छोटी छोटी खेळणी, प्रसन्न वातावरण होतं.

‘तो’ला एक आठवड्याची सुट्टी मिळाली होती. त्याच्या चेहर्‍यावरचा आनंद बघण्यासारखा होता. ४ sizesचे frocks घेऊन आला होता.

“परी किती मोठी झाझीये गं? हाथभर लांब आहे की अजुन छोटीशी आहे?" असे प्रश्न ऐकायला मिळाले.  त्याने परी जन्मली त्या दिवसाचं वर्णन केलं. " आयुश, अरे मी OTच्या बाहेर tension मध्ये होतो... एक नर्स एक कपड्यात एका बाळाला घेऊन आले. म्हणली ‘लक्ष्मी आलिये’ तिला हातात घेतलं आणि ढसाढसा रडायला लागलो. आयुश जेव्हा तू बाप होशील तेव्हा मला नक्की फोन कर...’’

तो त्याच्या परीला कुशीत घेऊन झोपल्याचा भास मला त्या रात्री झाला..

पण दुसर्‍या दिवशी त्याची रजा cancel झाली. रात्रभर परीचा video बघत होता. रात्रीचा  १ वाजला होता. मी कुस बदलत होतो. भिंतीला टेकून बसला होता.

“आयुष? झोपलायेस का रे?’’

“हमम, बोल’’

बराच वेळ काही बोलला नाही म्हणून मी डोळे उघडून पहिला तर परीचा video बघत होता.

“माझी परी मला ओळखेल का रे??”

माझे डोळे खाड्कन उघडले. (हा प्रश्न माझ्यासाठी नव्हताच मुळी!)

“अरे वेडायेस का? ओळखेल की…” मी उगाच त्याला समजवण्याचा प्रयत्न करत होतो...

एवढा एक प्रश्न विचारून तो झोपला अन् मी जागा रहिलो.

नुकतंच संदीप खरे आणि सलील कुलकर्णीच्या ‘दमलेल्या बाबाची कहाणी’ने बर्‍याच लोकांना रडवलंय. पण निदान ते बाबा आपल्या मुलांना खरंखुरं तरी बघत असतील... ह्या दमलेल्या बाबांपेक्षा एकटा पडलेल्या बाबाचं काय??

आपल्या मुलीच्या सगळ्यात छान moments ना miss करत होता तो... रोज दारू, cigaretteने ह्याचा दिवस सुरू व्हायचा आणि संपायचा. हा नवीन DEV 'D' जिथे D stands for Daddy... पहिल्यांदाच बघितला....

मी ज्या कामासाठी चेन्नईला गेलो होतो तिथे एक रिसर्च करायचा होता. ज्या दाम्पत्याचं वार्षिक उत्पन्न १० लाखांपेक्षा जास्त आहे त्यांचे प्रॉब्लेम्स काय आहेत. त्यांच्यासाठी म्हणून एका पर्यटन कंपनीने नवीन स्कीम सुरू करायचे ठरवले होते. त्यांचे प्रॉब्लेम हे जीवघेणी स्पर्धा, कामवाली न येणे, बाजारातली चढउतार, ढासळती तब्येत हे होते... आणि इथे 'तो' चे प्रॉब्लेम हे अन्न, वस्त्र, निवारासाठीची लढाई आणि आपल्या मुलीच्या भविष्यासाठीची तरतूद म्हणून एका न आवडणार्‍या ठिकाणी येऊन काम करणं... काही वेळा आपल्याकडे काही पर्याय नसतो म्हणून आपल्या जवळच्या लोकांपासून आपण खूप लांब जातो. …पण बर्‍याच वेळा आपली अशी समजूत असते की, आपण हे सगळं आपल्या कुटुंबासाठी करतोय. पण खरंच आपण जे करतोय त्याने आपले कुटुंबीय सुखी आहेत का? माणसाचा सहवास ही सगळ्यात मोठी समाधानाची गोष्ट आहे असं मला वाटतं. आपणच आपल्या गरजा वाढवून ठेवतो आणि मग त्या पूर्ण करण्यासाठी ही सगळी धडपड. मानसिक आणि शारीरिक त्रास दोन्ही. अवास्तव वाढवून ठेवलेल्या भौतिक सुखाच्या अपेक्षा, चंगळवाद, ह्यात वाहवत चाललेला माणूस... कुठेतरी थांबून विचार करायची नक्कीच गरज आहे... आता जर ह्या सगळ्या धडपडीत आपल्या स्वतःला खूप आनंद मिळत असेल तर विचार करण्यात अर्थ नाही... 

१० लाखांपेक्षा जास्त उत्पन्न असूनही त्रास ओढवून घेणार्‍या लोकांकडून आणि मूलभूत गरजा पूर्ण करण्यासाठी त्रास सहन करणार्‍या 'तो' कडून मी त्या दोन महिन्यात बरंच काही शिकलो...

दोन महिने कसे संपले कळलंच नाही. माझी पुण्याला परत यायची तयारी सुरू झाली. मी पाँडीचेरीवरून त्याच्यासाठी एक branded full bottle व्हिस्की आणली. बाटलीकडे काही वेळ बघितलं आणि हसत म्हणाला. “हे तर दोन दिवसांत संपेल, पुढे?”

मी निघालो, तेवढ्यात हाक ऐकू आली "आयुश!!" (आता मात्र मला खरंच राग आला होता. दोन महिने होऊनदेखील शेवटच्या दिवशी माझा नाव चुकीचं घेतलं त्यानं.  )

माझ्या हातावर ५१ रुपये ठेवत म्हणला, “दगडूशेठ गणपतीला जा आणि पूजा कर, माझ्यासाठी नाही परी साठी.”

“नक्की’’ पैसे खिशात ठेवत मी म्हणालो. “बरं, मुंबईला काही पाठवायचं इथून ? काही घेऊन जाऊ का?”

“मला नेतोस ?” त्याने हसत विचारलं... 

“शक्य असेल तर नक्की!” मीसुद्धा हसत वळलो. बॅग उचलून दरवाजापर्यंत गेलो.

“By the way एक गोष्ट विचारायची राहूनच गेली, परीचं नाव काय रे ठेवलंस?”

त्याचे डोळे एकदम चमकले, “तुला माहीतच नाही की काय… घ्या… 'आयुशी' !!!”

इतके दिवस माझं चुकीचं नाव घेतल्यामुळे आलेला राग गिळून मी घराबाहेर पडलो...

Pretentious Parfait by Shruti Nargundkar

PRETENTIOUS PARFAIT

There was a time when we ate mangoes straight out of the large old zinc bathtub they had been soaking in to cool – for they came out quite warm from under the bales of rice straw of the adhi (आंब्याचीअढी) where they had been gestating.

We would wait for days, taking a sneak peak at the mangoes when any adult would go in to check on them.  The wait would be quite agonising, but then we were such drama queens…

There were so many summer goodies to eat – the succulent munjals (palmyra fruit) the cooling phalsa (grewia fruit), the glossy purple jambuls (java plums) and a mélange of melons of all sizes, colours and descriptions.

Yet, the mango loomed large in our prospects. The longer it took for the mangoes to ripen, the more they would be   coveted.                                                                                                      Shruti Nargundkar

Like flies to wanton boys, we were drawn to the fragrance of the rice straw and the sweet, sticky distinctive smell of mangoes emanating from garden shed. 

Spot after gilded spot, we impatiently charted their seasoning.

And one day these golden gods would be pronounced ripe and ready. 

They would be picked gently out of their hotbeds, carefully brushed with blades of straw and plunged into the old zinc tub filled with cool water drawn from the depths of the dredged well.

We kids would then be unceremoniously stripped of most of our clothes – our mothers knew too well how hard it was to scrub off mango stains from clothes.

Dressed in singlet and shorts – No! – baniyans and bodyfrocks- we would sit on the stone steps of the back yard with the gang of cousins.We would select a mango, hold the fruit between our pincers at the stem-scab and the sharp paisley-point, and squeeze and rotate the mango in one continuous motion till it was a soft and pliant.

The skin would often burst, sending amber juice squirting into our eyes or the fleshy stone plopping onto our clothes - mishaps that would send us into giggling fits and more mischief. If all went well, the mango was now at our disposal to be sucked-tucked into.

The juice fully relished, the skin would be peeled off and gnawed clean. Our teeth would rake the juice out of the fleshy drupe, combing patterns into the fast desiccating fibres.

This would go on, mango after mango.

We would then surface for breath, as exhausted as the mango.

But not for long, for our eyes would rove the rows of submerged mangoes and we would reach out for yet another-with slithering hands dripping juice at the elbows…

In another faraway land, in another hemisphere with topsy-turvey seasons where these old favourites are banned, we bring home corpulent cultured local mangoes, but in twos and threes.

We cut two of these between the four of us, and sometimes even put away a few slices we may not be able to finish. At times we incarnate the fleshy fruit into dishes quite flashy.

There is none of the gut-busting-gorging of our bucolic frolic, only some polite polishing off…….. of an almond adulterated pretentious parfait…Mango Almond Parfait

Ingredients

2 large ripe mangoes – skinned and chopped finely into a puree (reserve some for garnishing)

Sugar/sweetener- as required

1cup plain Greek yoghurt or any thick creamy yoghurt (not very sour)

½ cup almond meal

Some granola clusters, the reserve chopped mango and a handful of pomegranate arils for garnishing

Method

Adjust the sweetness of the mango puree by adding the sugar/sweetener. You may not need it at all if the mango is sweet.  Since the parfait is going to be chilled well, it might need to be a little sweeter than you would have it at room temperature.

Combine the yogurt and almond meal and whisk until fluffy and light.

In a tall glass layer the yogurt mixture and mango puree going ¾ of the way up. Cover with cling film and chill for a few hours. 

Serve garnished with chopped mango, some granola clusters and pomegranate arils.

Puritan by Sangita G Naik - Best Entry for Budding Authors Competition

                                                                   PURITAN

Sangita G. Naik

May 16, 2011

Yet another sunrise in my distasteful life. I have started seeing death at a close. It is at my doorstep, about to knock. I know he is much here to pick me up. At least somebody is here who wants me. But what will he do with me? I have become sadist over the years. I am a loner. God alone knows what is in store for me. I had never hated life like I do now.

I am hardly 35. I remember how bubbly I would be. I was the one girl who caught attention of almost everybody where ever I went. Some liked me for my charm, some for my seriousness, reserved type, some who were very close to me found me to be vibrant, vivacious, cool, bubbly, some others found me to be friendly, out spoken, some confident, smart, some others would call me Bold and Beautiful, close ones called me naughty, colleagues found me active and alert. And the guy who fell head over heels with me would always wonder and ask “Hey, what are you exactly? I get confused”.

I would blush saying, I? I am a clusp. Ha, I am a clusp of Taurus and Gemini. And do you know something? Gemini alone has two faces! Just wonder how about the whole threesome?

Poor Karan, he was mad for me, just mad. There were a hell lot who were mad for me but Karan’s madness was worth appreciating .I took him to be a good friend as he was my younger brother’s best friend. He was a year younger to me .But had an appealing personality. He too had fan following but never damn cared about anybody.

Every time he proposed “I love you,” I would brush his remarks aside saying, “But I love Gandhi.” He would get irritated and vanish for the day .I had one mantra in life, “Say No to Illusions”.  There were better things for me to do .I loved reading a lot about Mahatma Gandhi. I would end up reading books and articles on Gandhi. My only dream was to do research in Gandhian studies and write a lot on my Mahatma.

 My brother would tease me for I was modern and stylish where as Gandhi was simple.  He would mock at me saying “if you really like him, you should follow him in every sense.” The debate would come to an end, the moment it would take a start, as my answer would be abrupt   “That is the point, there cannot be another Mahatma, My Mahatma is an Enigma.”

I strongly believed that  one can like him, love him, try to understand him, follow him , read , learn and know about him, but would definitely fail to become like My Mahatma.“ He is different” I would conclude.

I completed my graduation and went for my Masters Degree. I earned while I learned. I was a school teacher, a respectable job. My friends were of all together with very different opinion. They felt I suited for corporate world. Karan again came and proposed me. This time he was damn serious. I repeated my philosophical dialogues. He threw the water bottle aside with a bang. He lost his cool .He caught me by my arms and shouted, “Are you a fool? Don’t you want to get married and settle down? Since ten years we have been together in a group, are you made of a rock? Don’t you have a heart? Can not you understand other’s feelings? Come out of your philosophy I say! Do something different, marry me idiot,” he broke down. That was the last time I saw Karan

I stuck to my morals. Certain things were a big “No” for me. I never gave in easily. I for one would never fall prey for fantasies .But life had something else in store for me. I met with an accident which was terrible, left me crippled for life. My fifth lumbar beside my spine got compressed. I was completely lame below my neck .Surgeons told surgery would not serve the purpose. “She will be paralysed for life”. I was put on ventilator, medicines and my whole body was tied with belts and straps so as to relieve me of pain and cramps as far as possible.

After a couple of days my body was shifted to a super deluxe room where I recognised my family, my friends and well wishers. I pitied them all. They all looked shocked with almost eyeballs protruding out at me .It was as if there was a horror show going on. I was fed up lying there for days.

 “Papa, Could you get me Hitler?” I asked.

 For the first time I felt like reading Adolf Hitler and I read the biggest volume ever, lying still as I was under observation for 45 days .Hitler kept me engaged. I fell in love with him. He was a fighter with a killer instinct, I felt. I was finally discharged .My body was carried home. The whole complex where I resided came to see me.

I knew I would stand on my toes but doctors said other wise, all the six experts relying upon their syllabus studied. I relied on my inner strong instinct. Peon of the school where I worked had come to see me. He was an illiterate. His work was to stand at the school gate and help the staff and guests park their vehicles .He came close to my bed and asked:

 “Madam, do you have faith in Haad Vaidya?

 I said “Now, what is it Munim?”

He took pain to make me understand that these people are just like hakims. They are well versed with herbs and roots and their medicinal values. This particular Haad Vaidya is a specialist in Neurotic problems .Anything that is related to fracture, bones and accidents, he is the best person to go to, he said.

But madam, “He is illiterate; he cannot understand your x-rays and scan. He will touch you and cure you” Before I could tell something, “Now that doctors said you are handicapped for life, why not try Haadvaidya? You need only two things, one is trust, have faith in his medicine and the other strength to bear the pain, as this is a crude method.” “He will not charge you anything, there is a temple opposite his residence, and he will ask you to give a visit to the temple after his medication”.

I agreed. They carried my body to an ambulance which we hired and took me to Haadvaidya. There were lots of people waiting for their turn to be tested by Haadvaidya. Finding me in a stretcher, people asked the man sitting at Vaidya’s door to let me in first. It really was a crude method. Vaidya asked me to sit down which was next to impossible .He walked up to me and took me by my arms and deliberately made me sit. The terrible pain in my back made me scream with pain and lose consciousness. Family members panicked. I did not know what happened next. The time I gained consciousness, I was flat on my stomach lying on the floor. Somebody stood on my back .I felt the dark swirls in my eyes and again fell unconscious. Next thing I found was I was tied by a white cloth across my right arm which came covering the whole body part below my neck to the left side of my waist line. I could smell the paste of leaves and roots and that of some balm. Vaidya, the old man roared, “Next visit on Thursday, three more visits and you will start flying, see that next time you come here you will drive the vehicle.” My tears spoke volumes.

People outside could not believe their eyes. I came out walking. I got a new lease for life. Days, months and years rolled   by. I stood tall with confidence. It was as if I was in a fairy land. All the local newspapers carried my story of will and determination. I was invited as chief guest for programmes on International Women’s Day and Republic day by various institutions. I was a star by night and I enjoyed every bit of it.

I was given in marriage by my parents to a gentleman and was blessed with a child .I was blessed with everything .Good husband, promising son, a nice job, house of my own, almost every thing.

One day, while in school, I felt restless and very tired. I was sweating a lot too. I was feeling tired since a couple of days, which I had brought to the notice of my husband too. Every now and then I would get temperature and severe head ache. Decided to see our family doctor. Casual tests were done and medicines given for no good response from my body.

I was asked to meet some other doctor in the heart of the city. The earth underneath me collapsed on hearing the result of my blood test. “How could this be? We were faithful to each other. Both of us belonged to respectable and cultured family. Both were well educated. We spoke to our family doctor. He made me aware of the fact that I carried it either through contaminated hypodermic needles either during my treatment for accident or during my delivery phase.”

I was HIV+.

My world came to my end. I started dying from within every day. Family, friends, relatives, well wishers withered away. We sent our child to a boarding school. He was 8 years of age. My husband stood by me like a rock. He was the only person who supported me. I wanted him to remarry somebody of his choice but my words never reached his ears.

Day by day, there was growing frustration in me. Neighbours shunned their doors on me. Shop keepers were indifferent to me. Society showed its true colours to me. I was totally broken and shattered. “How could the world be so indifferent to AIDS victims? We do not want them to share anything with us, but please do not be indifferent to us! We need caring hands,” I wept silently. Day by day things became worse. I was burning from within.

Timely medicines kept me going. Husband asked me to live life full size. “Enjoy, read some good books, write something, watch some good movies, this is your life, do something different”he said.

“Do something different?” this is exactly what Karan said, the very last time we met. The words kept repeatedly ringing to my ears. I went to a far off place and gave myself to the lady in the parlour. From a nice hair cut to pedicure, she did it all for the day .Late in the evening I went and fetched some catchy attractive clothes. I realised. My husband was happy for me He took me to a lavish restaurant in another town. I realized one thing that my well maintained body frame and attractive face attracted some eyes even to this day.

A man walked in and shook hands with my husband. My husband introduced me to him .He was the managing director of the huge company where my husband previously worked; He was all eyes for me. He ordered ice creams for us and gave us both each his card.

 He ended up contacting me. I too met him on lunch. He drove me to a wonderful lodge in the outskirts of the city. I dressed myself neatly and left a card for him which read:

                               ..........................WELCOME TO AIDS.............

Mehta Publishing House Shines at Amdavad Book Fair 2013

Ahmedabad Book Fair 2013 (1st May 2013 to 7th May 2013) started with a bang for Mehta Publishing House, Pune as our stall 166-167 was inaugurated by the Mayor, Mr. Hasit Vora on 30th April 2013.

This was followed by the Launch of D.E.A.R. a.k.a Drop Everything and Read concept in a huge press conference where we encourage the readers to stop doing their regular activities like chores, errands, paperwork, watching TV, visiting Facebook etc. for at least one hour during the day and instead invest that one saved hour to READ. 

The stress here is not only on reading the books (or even only books published by Mehta Publishing House) but reading anything that captures the reader’s attention irrespective of age, class, profession or any other barriers be it the newspaper, comics, magazines, e-books, classic literature, fiction, biographies or anything which remotely associates itself with reading. Our assertion around here is that reading, whether you’re on your own or cozied up on the couch with your kids, is so much more fun and rewarding than just about anything else (especially, chores!). So, we’re telling folks of all ages to “drop” what they’re doing and pick up a book, instead.

Next was the launch of the monthly Budding Authors competition, which is to encourage the young writers across the globe. This competition is open for all and invites entries from people irrespective of the age, class, profession or even country who have a flair for writings. All the entries shall be reviewed by our panel of expert reviewers and editors and the three best of the received entries will receive a special discount on Mehta Publishing House books. In addition to this, if our reviewing team feels so, then the selected authors can also be asked for publishing the entire book by Mehta Publishing House.

The same event featured the book publishing ceremony for four new books by Mehta Publishing House namely, The Woman Before Me, The Art of Ageing, The Sky is Changing and Mr. Two Bomb by Mr. Devendra Patel – President, Gujarat Media Club and Mr. Babubhai R. Prajapati – President, Gujarat Press Welfare Trust.

The second event to follow was a Book Reading cum Readers Interaction session organized with our two National Best Selling English authors Ms. Gayatri Lodha (Gayatri’s Maths Mantra) and Mr. Vikrant Shukla (Call Center: An Inside Story & The Wrong Chase) on 5th May 2013. 

The authors talked about their inspirations of writing the book, the contents of their books in brief, their experiences with Mehta Publishing House and how the book fair provided them with an opportunity to connect to their readers.

 Gayatri Lodha also taught 3 concepts from her books in the readers’ interaction session. 

Following this event was a book signing session at our stall in the fair by the two authors which saw a flood of readers excited to get their favorite writers’ autographed book. 

The stall was later visited by the Current New Mayor Mrs. Meenaxiben Patel who expressed her immense happiness on the participation of India’s Largest Marathi Publishing House in the Book Fair. 

And thus, ended the trysts of Mehta Publishing with its readers in Gujarat.

Happy Reading !!!

Parul Bhadoria 

Strategic Head - HR 

Mehta Publishing House, Pune

अलिबाबाची खुली गुहा

पुस्तकं –  

लाल बासनात बांधलेली

ऋषींसारखी –

सुरकुतेली, निश्चल, मौनी, ज्ञानी –

शेल्फच्या धुकट काचांमधून

उत्सुकतेने डोळे विस्फारत पाहणारी,

'मला कडेवर घ्या' म्हणत खुणावणारी –

मोबाइलच्या, टॅबच्या, रीडरच्या

गुळगुळीत स्क्रीनवरून

घसरगुंडी खेळल्यासारखी

सरकत जाणारी –

एमपीथ्री होऊन

कानात गुजगोष्टी सांगणारी –

पुस्तकं.

करतात सोबत आपल्याला कुठेही –

ट्रेनमध्ये, बसमध्ये, बसस्टॉपवर, बाइकवर...

प्रवास रटाळ असला तरी

पुस्तकं आपल्याला नेतात

अद्भुत सफरींवर... घनदाट अरण्यात...

किंवा

मनाच्या तळघरात...

आपण आनंदी असो वा दुःखी वा सुखी

ती एेकून घेतात आपलं म्हणणं निमूट.

शोषून घेतात आपले अश्रू

खुलवितात आपलं हास्य.

जपून ठेवतात आपल्या आत –

'ते' खास दिले-घेतलेले गुलाब

किंवा

सुरकुतलेली निरागस चॉकलेटची सोनेरी चांदी...

किंवा

जाळीदार करतात स्मरणांची पिंपळपाने...

पुस्तकांच्या पोटात असते

अलिबाबाची गुहा –

अनेक रत्नांची,

राग, लोभ, मत्सर अशा नवरसांची,

मन विषण्ण करणार्‍या वास्तवाची

आणि कल्पनेपलीकडच्या

अद्भुत विश्वाचीही...

फक्त पुस्तके

'खुल जा सिमसिम' न म्हणताच
उघडी करतात आपली कवाडं

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Submit your write-ups to be an author !!!!!!

Inviting Entries for Budding Authors Competition

In a bid to encourage writings of the common man, Mehta Publishing House launches a monthly Budding Authors Competition on May 1^st 2013. And for that we invite the entries from our readers all across the globe in the form of short essays, short stories, write ups, memoirs or a biographical write ups for the competition. The entries will be scrutinized by our editorial team and the best 3 write ups  shall be declared winners at the launch of the Competition at Amdavad Book Fair 2013 along with the simultaneous updating on our Facebook account and our website. The winners will be awarded attractive prizes along with a certificate by us.

So put your thoughts into words and send us your entries at hrm@mehtapublishinghouse.com

Last date to submit entries 29^th April 2013

Mehta Publishing House at Amdavad Book Fair 2013

This is to inform you all that Mehta Publishing House is participating in the upcoming Amdavad Book Fair 2013 to be held from May 1^st 2013 to May 7^th 2013 at Gujarat University Convention center,132 road near Helmet cross roads, Ahmedabad. During the course of the fair, we would be organizing two events in relation to our English books the details of which are mentioned as under:

Event on May 1^st 2013

Event : Launch of DEAR Concept for Mehta Publishing House and The Launch of Budding Authors competition (monthly) at Mehta Publishing House.

Venue : Our stall no 166 & 167

Timings : 5:00 p.m. to 7:00 p.m.

Description : DEAR is an abbreviation which means Drop Everything and Read and it is a movement to encourage people from all sects, ages and professions to take time out of their busy schedules to just read a book each day. Budding Authors is a monthly competition which we are beginning from May 2013 post its launch at Amdavad Book Fair where we will ask the young writers to submit us their write-ups each month and based on the reviews by our team, we select 3 best entries who shall be declared not as winners but best among the lot. These three best entries shall be awarded by us.

Event on May 5^th 2013

Event : Book Reading and Readers Interaction Session

Venue : Our stall no 166 & 167

Timings : 5:00 p.m. to 7:00 p.m.

Description: For this event we have called our two authors for a book reading cum readers interaction session. We have also invited the HR's and other staff of reputed international call centers, 5 star hotels, NGO's etc of Ahmedabad to be a part of the event. The two authors are Vikrant Shukla author of Call Centre an Inside Story and The Wrong Chase. These book relate to the kind of invite category mentioned above. The last 45 mins of the event duration will be dedicated to Gayatri Lodha, author of Gayatri’s Maths Mantra where she will teach the audiences any 3 concepts of simple maths logic.

We extend our warm invite to all our beloved readers in and around Gujarat to come and visit our stall during the fair especially for the events for a mesmerizing experience all together.