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Monday, December 5, 2011

A Wish

Author: Sham Saha
Dated: December 06, 2011

How many times have you felt dejected when God has not fulfilled your wish?
I am going to tell you a tale which is based on wish.

I know Arpan since my childhood – since those days when we used to fight over rare and expensive TinTin Comics available in a small town, since those days when we used to fight for the best place in classroom just around the single ceiling fan in a class of 61, since those days when we were in impish deed like ringing door bells of any house and used to run away from the spot.  Still we were best friends and had close-nit bond. Those days remain yearning forever.

After we passed school, we were not in same place. Things had changed. I got opportunities to study in Metropolis and left my small town. Still we were in touch. My best hang out had been always with him when I was at my home in vacation. The only change I saw in him, that he was quite reserved to share his personal matters, otherwise he was fun loving and full of life. I always saw him with an affable smile.

I could remember the day I met him last time just before my Visa to Australia was in process. I got a job over there. Now I am telling you about the day.
On that day, Arpan was half drunk though I knew him as non-drinker. We were in an unattended garden of Mango Tress. It was just after sunset – a crepuscule. He was sheer heartbroken and by that time, I am totally naive what happened to him.  He was howling restlessly. It was very difficult for me to bear the scene. I felt pity. I asked him with compassionate voice – “You were quite cheery on other day and now what on Earth has happened to you?”

After insistence, at last he started baring his chapfallen heart taking so many pauses in between.

Arpan was in touch with 3 girls in a family in same colony. I know the family but not much about those girls as I was always away from home since I started realizing the world in broader way. He did a lot for that family, especially for those girls, just as a neighbor as the only male candidate of that family used to be always out of town for job purpose.  He built a good reputation of himself – so assistive, so caring, so kind. But believe me - in this age, such kind of reputation is so fickle that you have to be always careful. There were rumours around questioning his unconditional favours to that family, especially for those girls. You know what kind of rumours it could be. Then the family started avoiding him as if they had believed what people were saying around. Based on that hearsay, those girls were also started not to give importance to him. Some female relatives of them had also fuelled the matter.

Arpan stopped after telling that much. I realized what made him so upset.  I felt he might be emotionally attached with one of those 3 girls. Anyway it was my guess. Then he casually lifted his face upwards to the gloomy sky. He started shouting - “Hey God I have never ever sought anything from you, as I was quite happy for what I already have. But I wish that day not to come in my life seeing any woman face from that family not even from their family tree.”  I still can remember his red eyes.

He left the town after few days and started living in some other town in job purpose. I was quite busy settling in Brisbane in my new job.
Months passed. My Mom called me and told me Arpan met with a road accident and he was in Hospital but out of danger. It was not possible for me to fly instantly back to home. I talked to his parents to assure if he was fine. His grief-stricken parents did not share much though. I was looking for opportunities to pay a visit back home. Nearly 2 months passed away. Meantime, I heard he would be soon released from Hospital.  I reached my home after flying all the way from Brisbane. It was coincidence that on the same day, Arpan was brought to home from hospital of the town where he was staying. I was about to enter his house. Few curious neighbors were also at their doorstep. Suddenly I saw those 3 girls and their mother were coming, of course to see Arpan.

I was not in good mood. I started thinking now what Arpan will do. He had to face those Girls’ faces.

They entered in the room where Arpan was lying on Bed. I was not far behind of them. From certain angle over their heads, I could only see Arpan’s fractured leg in that instance.

Suddenly, I got my answer what was peeping in mind just a while ago. God had fulfilled Arpan’s wish. He did not have to face those Girls’ faces.

I was unaware of it - Arpan lost both of his eyes in that road accident. His anguish turned to a wish.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

The Other Side of a Suicide

Author: Sham Saha
Dated: October 24, 2010

I was standing just behind the platform tea stall. It was platform no 6. Station was crammed full as compared to other days. This station is too big. You can go at any end of the nation from here by train. But here on this platform people were waiting for local train.

Suddenly my eyes halted on a just passed high school boy. At least his body language was describing that itself. He was sitting on a bench with a black bag in his lap. He was not doing anything but kept his chin down. I could not read his face properly, but noticed that he was shaking his legs. He might be tensed of something or simply impatient. Then I saw, he took out a piece of paper from his bag and wrote something on it. While writing on the paper, his face turned nearly red and hand was wobbly. Anyway, I could only assume either he was tensed or sick. Meanwhile, an announcement on air – “Train to Kashipur will be on platform 6 in five minutes”.

Train was not on time - little later than its usual time. Meanwhile, now more people thronged on platform. The train was supposed to come from its car shed. People knew it would be vacant and there would be plenty of non-occupied seats. I saw train was coming. Suddenly, people stirred. Whosoever was sitting stood together as if they were obeying command of an Army Chief.
Again my eyes were on the boy. It seemed he was limping little. He was also in position to board on the train. The train was now on platform. Speed was quite slow. Many crazy people were simply throwing themselves inside the train compartments just to occupy the seats in advance. Don’t expect the same from me.

Suddenly I heard scream of a group of people. The boy jumped on railway track. The train now stopped. Crowd surrounded the whole spot. It seemed the boy was dead on the spot. I was not feeling well at that moment.

Now the Police came to spot to take out the dead body from the track. It was quite an adventurous scene to many people around as the train was already on the track. Police started searching the bag expecting to have some clue about the boy’s identity. Many people were talking with each other asserting to a single point – “It’s a suicidal case”. Police men were of no exception. Now they were in search of suicidal note. Finally, they found a folded paper.  Was that suicidal note or something else?
Some people already started overreacting for sake of curiosity.

Readers, I left the place before police and public could conclude to a point - “It’s a suicidal case”.

Now on, you will hear from the person who died on the spot.

Oh my God. What a terrible death I have just got. Do I deserve that? And what are the police searching in my pocket. So here they get my Coaching Class I-Card. They have already got the letter what Seema wrote to me. She has decided not to keep relation with me. How could you do this to me, Seema? Oh no. Two of the Police are reading Seema’s letter. They are looking at each other. Oh no.  They are interpreting it as suicidal case. That I have taken my own life in failure in love – based on Seema’s letter. I can’t imagine. Now they will reach to my house and meet my parents. And what will they inform?  Their son has suicided on railway track. How my Mom will react? What she will think knowing that there was a Girl naming Seema in my life. Whole colony and my friend circle will come to know that I have suicided and killed myself brutally. And it will be talk of the day for next couple of days.

Now the soul of my departed soul is on a sour note.

I cannot convince people personally that it was mere an accident. I did not suicide.

 I wanted to get the door of train compartment. I wanted to get on board the compartment to occupy the seat in advance. But I misjudged the hollow space in between two compartments as door and jumped in hurry!

Saturday, April 24, 2010

No Male Chauvinism - I Swear

Author: Sham Saha
Dated: April 24, 2010

Eve sent the following mail to Adam. Actually she forwarded this mail she received in a chain. It was decorated by witty caricature also.

Now let us see what the content of the mail was

Cuddle her
Caress her
Love her
Comfort her
Protect her
Hold her
Spend money on her
Wine and dine her
Buy things for her
Listen to her
Care for her
Stand by her
Support her
Compliment her
Respect her
Honour her
Go to the ends of the Earth for her.


The mail ended here.

Now what comes in your mind? You may have grin on your face, may be you have found it quite realistic and funny too.

Now let us see what exactly Adam replied to Eve’s mail

You know what!!!!!
Actually, sometime a Girl is so DUMB that a Boy needs to do A to Z to let her understand that he cares for her.
But, see in case of Boys. They always take less time to understand...Soooooo INTELLIGENT...

Monday, March 22, 2010

Conversation Turns to Conversion

Author: Sham Saha
Dated: March 22, 2010


HE: Hi

SHE: So finally you have sometime for me.

HE: Don’t you think we talk quite frequently?

SHE: Yep and you are doing a great help to me by that, isn’t it? I’m so grateful to you dear!

He: What’s wrong? Anything happened?

SHE: Why do you think something has happened?

HE: I think you are not fine right now. Let’s talk later.

SHE: This is your habit of leaving when I talk to the point. All men are escapist.

HE: You want to talk to me or not?

SHE: If I say “No” I know you’d happily leave.

HE: What's the matter?

SHE: You know what? Sometimes I wonder why I am talking to you. I am forced to believe what my friends say about you to me.

HE: How come your friends talk about me? They don’t know me.

SHE: Do I know you? Atleast they have open eyes. And I live with closed eyes.

HE: Ok ok…May I know the real matter now?

SHE: Do you really CARE?

HE: What’s wrong? Why are you behaving this way?

SHE: Did I ask you some very difficult question? If you knew the answer you’d have told me or may be you don’t dare to tell that you don’t care. Because of you sometimes I feel that I don’t exist in this world.

HE: So am I the new entry in the list of all problems you usually face?

SHE: Yep...You have become my biggest problem now. Somewhere back of my mind, I feel I have weakened emotionally as I love someone who cares the least for me, someone to whom I mean a zero. Yet I fail to love anyone else despite the fact that there are many who actually want to care for me!

HE: Just stop. How come you know that I don’t care? Your friends said this?

SHE: My friends advise me. I was a fool by not listening to them.

HE: Why didn’t you listen to them?

SHE: You really wanted me to listen to them?

HE: what do you expect from me?

SHE: It’s not about expectations. I don’t expect from my family even. but at least CARE! Any human being would do that.

HE: I don’t understand your problem and I think you also don't understand it properly.

SHE: What are you made of man? I am saying you something and you already started stating your assumptions instead of thinking!

HE: Do I need to tell you that I love and care for you? I guess you have that little common sense to realise the fact!

SHE: I have many people around me who like me but I don’t ask them how much they care… You knw why? Because I don’t want to know. To me you mean more than anyone else but how much do I mean to you? My common sense has now failed after many attempts to “realise”.

HE: Hmm…

SHE: Ask yourself, Do you really think about me even once in a day? I hope it's not just sheer laziness.

HE: See, if you want to discontinue talking to me then you may please do so. That may make you happy. I think you have accumulated enough hatred for me. Now it’s all up to you!

SHE: What you just said, is a reflection of the present condition of our relationship. You don’t even try to look into a girl’s heart. You always avoid. I think the problem is with you. Your don’t want to talk to me properly. You never tried to understand me. You believed in your assumptions and ideas about me but never in me.

You are so stony. Your heart is made of stone!

HE: Yes. That's very true. My heart is made of stone.

But I wonder you have never realised that I have engraved your name on this stony surface of my heart so that it will never ever wipe out itself or otherwise.

Saturday, October 3, 2009

The Courier Boy

Author: Sham Saha
Dated: October 03, 2009

Of course I have some identity, but I would like to introduce myself as an Invisible Camera, peeping in other’s life.
Last year, my focus was on a young boy from a nearby slum. After few days of observations, I reached to a conclusion that the poor lad was a courier boy, running a family of 6 including his sick and handicapped father. I also did not miss to notice that the boy used to come out from slum at 8 in the morning and used to return at 8 in the evening. And on some odd days he used to stand still before the City Art School raising his head aloft. May be, he wanted to be a painter, an artist or whatever but life had left him no choice except becoming a courier boy. Anyway, everyone should have a dream, but in his case I assumed his dream was dim and literally dammed up, of course poverty was the sole reason. How could he be a painter? I heard there were lot of expenses studying in that Art School and a bright future is not always guaranteed anywhere.
However on a certain day, I watched the boy entering art school in day time. But he had no courier bag with him but a role of old handmade papers. I realized that the boy was trying to get chance to enter the Art School. May be those papers were some samples of his artistic talent he could have nurtured at his home.
After few days, the boy started attending art classes I supposed, but only once or twice in a week. To my surprise, I never saw him carrying any bag or paint board or any kind of stationeries, an art school student was supposed to carry usually. Day by day, it seemed he was grooming and his costumes and outfits would tell you that there was some progress. I was quite snooping to discover if there was some financial aid.
One day I realized the truth underneath - it became like lucid air to me.
The poor boy entered the Art School keeping a faint hope that he might get an admission as a student. But on the very first day the Director of Art School lured him first and then convinced. They were badly in need of male nude model. The poor boy saw some firm hope of earning extra bucks in it rather struggling with poverty and dreaming to be a painter. Thus he continued visiting the Art School not as student but a nude model.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Anguish of A Beggar

Author: Sham Saha
Dated: 19 December 2007

Mumbai!!! A dream city…

Don’t ask my name. I am not any extraordinary, I am ordinary, but some day unknowingly I have been lost among very ordinaries.

I stepped in Mumbai just 27 Days back after getting my maiden job in a small MNC. It's a Law Firm. Our owner is an American and for last two days he is in Mumbai in a visit. It is our organization culture that every new employee gets a lavish dinner after joining. I have been expecting for my turn. Eventually, today afternoon I have come to know that our American boss has invited Satish, my colleague and me for dinner at evening in Hotel Oberoi. Hotel Oberoi is not too far from our office and our American Boss has been staying there since he came in Mumbai.

Right now, the time is 6:50 PM. My American boss is about to call a cab for the hotel and I take the initiative. After reaching there, it is our formality not to let our boss to give the cab fare, so I have just thought of paying Rs.50 as fare. But alas, I have the exact amount of Rs. 50 only in my wallet. Tomorrow is our salary day. I don’t want to borrow money from anybody else. If I spend this money how will I spend next 24 Hours in Mumbai?

I simply indicate Satish to pay the fare. Here we enter Hotel premises. This is such a place I have never ever visited before.

Right now the time is 8:45 PM. We have just finished our lavish dinner. Now we have to move out. Our boss bids us a good bye, but next moment he offers Three Hundred Rupees Notes to Satish. “Hey Man! You gave the cab fare, In America the cab fare could be 500 Bucks, take this money”. Now Satish is hesitating, but at last he takes the money.

Now we both are just on the road in front of the Hotel. I remember that in my school days we were supposed to read a Tagore’s poem.

In that poem, Almighty was in disguise of a King and asked for alms from a beggar. The puzzled beggar was undecided and gave least grain to the King. Later on, the beggar discovered a tiny gold grain in his wallet. He lamented over his deed as he missed the opportunity to make whole wallet full of gold grains.

I neither am a beggar nor is my boss a King. But thing is that, if I would have given the cab fare empting my wallet unconditionally I would have Rs. 300 later on. Suddenly I have found myself in the same situation the beggar had.

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

A Loser or a Winner

Author:Sham Saha
Dated:09 October 2007

It is not necessary to introduce myself at beginning of this story. It is not necessary to know whether I am telling the truth or misinterpreting otherwise. You could pause if you don’t like. I won’t mind.

I am not an avid net user, but there was a girl passionate of web net. Don’t ask me how I started chatting with her over net. The best part was that she belongs to the city where my root lives a lame life. I found the girl as under-age and at the same time she was crazy about web net, and above all chatting with strangers.

I was idiot, no wonder; I have never had a chance to talk to a girl so openly. I have been always reserved, shy and hesitate while talking to any girl. This time my motto was something else. I wanted that Girl to put on right track. I was scared that this girl could be trapped by some strangers, some cyber-bullies some day. I tried my luck to be triumphant in pulling the girl out of cursed web. I started advising her on each front of net using in positive manner. On parallel, I started to listen to her every words carefully – her daily dismal domestic stories. A disgruntled teenager was always annoyed with her surroundings. There were so many, you don’t need to know.

I did not really want that she would believe or follow my each word. I was stranger to her - totally unknown. I did not want her to be in any trap of false words and promises from a stranger. After a span of 9 Months an unpleasant truth was born. Actually, the Girl started liking me, which was near to crush or love with a stranger whom she had never met. Suddenly I found myself as a loser as I failed to pull the Girl out of her bad habits on net. At the same time, I found that the girl was in love with me, me a shy character – somehow I was able to win her heart. The cause might be my honesty, my humble and modest talks and lastly my handsome look on a snap on the chat box. Though I believe that such emotion does not mean anything in real sense.

What should I consider myself? A Loser or a Winner?
You decide.

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