Baba! Baba! ... khush khabri babaaa....
That was a Monday morning when it all began and it was me who brought this khush khabri. Running towards the rising Sun on a narrow pagdandi through the vast mustard fields I was looking for my baba to tell him the khush khabri. I didn't want to lose this chance to someone else so I ran harder and harder towards the Sun...towards my baba.
Baba: kya hua bhola?
Khush khabri Baba!! Khush khabri!!
Baba: kaisi khushkhabri??
Baba jo bagal main naye factory khuli hai usme aapki naukri manzoor ho gayi hai. Har mahine 5000 rupiya milega baba.
Baba: sach bhola!kab jana hoga?
Agle hafte.
Those were the moments of happiness and I still remember Baba's smiling face. I tell you if you see my Baba smiling you will never forget his dry lips stretched to a maximum with a shine in his eyes. He rarely smiled because it hurt him to stretch his dry lips but that day he hardly cared. After all he got a job in a fertilizer factory setup by a multinational company. My Baba may be uneducated but he knows a lot about plants, crops, weeds, seeds, manures and all that agro stuff. I am sure he can beat any agriculture scholar for he has acquired this knowledge from his ancestors who acquired it from their ancestors and so on upto the ancient man. May be because of his knowledge my Baba was among the few lucky ones who were selected.
The opening of a fertilizer factory was not only a good news but it also meant that our fields would be greener, there would be no seasonal unemployment, we would be rich once again and I would be able to buy that necklace for Radha. No, Radha never asked for any necklace. She never asks for anything. But I knew she liked that necklace. That's the beauty of love; You always know what your partner likes more than you know about yourself. But you know I dont like one thing about her - She always keeps on interrupting me. She can't let me write one single page without interrupting.
Radha: Kya kar rahe ho bhola?
Kuchh nahin. Zindagi main hue nafa nuksaan ka hisaab laga raha hoon.
Radha: achha ab hisaab kitaab band karo aur khana kha lo. Maine khana bana diya hai.
Lekin khane main toh abhi time hai. Tum har baar pehle aa jati ho. Mujhe likhne do.
One thing has changed about Radha in all these years. Earlier she used to drag me by arm to dinner, now she doesn't do it anymore. She just agrees to what I say. Well anyways, lets get back to the story.
On that Monday evening, to tell the khushkhabri to Radha, I took her to our favourite meeting place. It's an old watch tower, 40 meters high, built by some king in 1600s. Radha likes that place a lot maybe because with fortress behind and vast stretch of fields in front, she feels like a queen being there. I like that place because of what happened there that evening.
Guess whats the news today
Radha: What?
I held her hand in mine and pointed towards the factory.
Baba got job in that factory Radha. 5000 rupaye per month..
Radha: really..
yes, and you know what does it mean. It means I will be able to go to the college in city Radha.
I could see her smile fade away, her eyes moistening.
Radha: When?
Next month.
I saw time liquifying in her eyes, every second accumulating to form a minute,every minute accumulating to form a day and every day flowing down her cheek. I wished I had not said antyhing, I had just kept my mouth shut. She stood there -- silently crying, evading my eyes as if she had made some mistake. I held her face in my hands and assured her that I will come every month, that I will write to her every day. She hugged me as somebody hugs you when they fear that you will no longer be the same. That evening it rained and it was not an ordinary rain; every drop of it was cololured, from the shades of grey to the shades of green. It seemed as if the clouds were firing colourless arrows, which when passed through rainbow acquired different colors depending on the colourband through which they passed. For baba the colour was green, for me it was blue but for Radha it was grey. That day Radha did not speak anything. With every sigh she tightened her grip as if she wont let me go.
Well, that was past. Look at her now. She doesn't hug me anymore and whenever I try to hug her she just vanishes away like a spectre.
Days passsed. Baba started going to job. He was happy. I bought a necklace for Radha. She was better too. I was preparing for college. Infinite dreams in my eyes. Three days were left for me to go to college when Baba came home angrily from the factory. He didn't tell me what the issue was but later I came to know that he was concerned about safety of workers in the factory. Exactly two days later the factory blew up, leaking poisnous gases in air. Some died, some survived. But we were lucky -- me, Radha and Baba. Though they have changed a lot after that but atleast they are with me in this room. Though I cant physically touch them but atleast I can hear them. Though Radha doesnt hug me anymore but atleast she doesnt cry anymore too.
Guard: number 417. Take your dinner.
I have my own. Radha has made it for me and baba.
guard: Take it man or else very soon you will be a ghost too, like Radha and baba, in this mental asylum.
This was a short story I dreamed of after reading an article on Bhopal Gas Tragedy.
That was a Monday morning when it all began and it was me who brought this khush khabri. Running towards the rising Sun on a narrow pagdandi through the vast mustard fields I was looking for my baba to tell him the khush khabri. I didn't want to lose this chance to someone else so I ran harder and harder towards the Sun...towards my baba.
Baba: kya hua bhola?
Khush khabri Baba!! Khush khabri!!
Baba: kaisi khushkhabri??
Baba jo bagal main naye factory khuli hai usme aapki naukri manzoor ho gayi hai. Har mahine 5000 rupiya milega baba.
Baba: sach bhola!kab jana hoga?
Agle hafte.
Those were the moments of happiness and I still remember Baba's smiling face. I tell you if you see my Baba smiling you will never forget his dry lips stretched to a maximum with a shine in his eyes. He rarely smiled because it hurt him to stretch his dry lips but that day he hardly cared. After all he got a job in a fertilizer factory setup by a multinational company. My Baba may be uneducated but he knows a lot about plants, crops, weeds, seeds, manures and all that agro stuff. I am sure he can beat any agriculture scholar for he has acquired this knowledge from his ancestors who acquired it from their ancestors and so on upto the ancient man. May be because of his knowledge my Baba was among the few lucky ones who were selected.
The opening of a fertilizer factory was not only a good news but it also meant that our fields would be greener, there would be no seasonal unemployment, we would be rich once again and I would be able to buy that necklace for Radha. No, Radha never asked for any necklace. She never asks for anything. But I knew she liked that necklace. That's the beauty of love; You always know what your partner likes more than you know about yourself. But you know I dont like one thing about her - She always keeps on interrupting me. She can't let me write one single page without interrupting.
Radha: Kya kar rahe ho bhola?
Kuchh nahin. Zindagi main hue nafa nuksaan ka hisaab laga raha hoon.
Radha: achha ab hisaab kitaab band karo aur khana kha lo. Maine khana bana diya hai.
Lekin khane main toh abhi time hai. Tum har baar pehle aa jati ho. Mujhe likhne do.
One thing has changed about Radha in all these years. Earlier she used to drag me by arm to dinner, now she doesn't do it anymore. She just agrees to what I say. Well anyways, lets get back to the story.
On that Monday evening, to tell the khushkhabri to Radha, I took her to our favourite meeting place. It's an old watch tower, 40 meters high, built by some king in 1600s. Radha likes that place a lot maybe because with fortress behind and vast stretch of fields in front, she feels like a queen being there. I like that place because of what happened there that evening.
Guess whats the news today
Radha: What?
I held her hand in mine and pointed towards the factory.
Baba got job in that factory Radha. 5000 rupaye per month..
Radha: really..
yes, and you know what does it mean. It means I will be able to go to the college in city Radha.
I could see her smile fade away, her eyes moistening.
Radha: When?
Next month.
I saw time liquifying in her eyes, every second accumulating to form a minute,every minute accumulating to form a day and every day flowing down her cheek. I wished I had not said antyhing, I had just kept my mouth shut. She stood there -- silently crying, evading my eyes as if she had made some mistake. I held her face in my hands and assured her that I will come every month, that I will write to her every day. She hugged me as somebody hugs you when they fear that you will no longer be the same. That evening it rained and it was not an ordinary rain; every drop of it was cololured, from the shades of grey to the shades of green. It seemed as if the clouds were firing colourless arrows, which when passed through rainbow acquired different colors depending on the colourband through which they passed. For baba the colour was green, for me it was blue but for Radha it was grey. That day Radha did not speak anything. With every sigh she tightened her grip as if she wont let me go.
Well, that was past. Look at her now. She doesn't hug me anymore and whenever I try to hug her she just vanishes away like a spectre.
Days passsed. Baba started going to job. He was happy. I bought a necklace for Radha. She was better too. I was preparing for college. Infinite dreams in my eyes. Three days were left for me to go to college when Baba came home angrily from the factory. He didn't tell me what the issue was but later I came to know that he was concerned about safety of workers in the factory. Exactly two days later the factory blew up, leaking poisnous gases in air. Some died, some survived. But we were lucky -- me, Radha and Baba. Though they have changed a lot after that but atleast they are with me in this room. Though I cant physically touch them but atleast I can hear them. Though Radha doesnt hug me anymore but atleast she doesnt cry anymore too.
Guard: number 417. Take your dinner.
I have my own. Radha has made it for me and baba.
guard: Take it man or else very soon you will be a ghost too, like Radha and baba, in this mental asylum.
This was a short story I dreamed of after reading an article on Bhopal Gas Tragedy.
