Sunday, January 18, 2009

A Valentine’s Day Story (Short Story, Romance)

‘Ladies and Gentlemen, good morning and welcome aboard Lufthansa flight 476 from Frankfurt to Dallas. We hope you have a pleasant flight.’

The aircraft lurched forward and began to move towards the runway in order to line up for the take-off. The air-hostesses took up their positions on the aisle and began to demonstrate the safety drill procedures.

Among the many passengers that were not paying any attention to them was a 45 year old man looking out of his window with concern. Mr Amod Gupta was observing in particular, the dark clouds that had gathered overhead which were being lit up by the odd flash of lightening that fell out of the sky onto the earth. The light rain that had begun added to his worries. The take-off during a flight always filled him with dread and the unfriendly weather made him feel even worse. He sat back, shut his eyes and waited for the aircraft to get airborne.

His worries however, were ill-founded as the aircraft took off uneventfully, climbed smoothly into the sky and levelled off. Amod noticed that the seat-belt sign overhead had been turned off. He decided to make his routine post-take-off trip to the restroom.

On the way back, he noticed a young couple sitting on the seats in the middle row. They appeared to be deeply in love and were gazing devotedly into each others’ eyes. Amod smiled and returned to his seat. He noticed that his co-passenger’s attention had been similarly drawn to the love-bird couple.

‘Ah! Love! All Thoughts, all Passions, all Delights; whatever stirs this mortal Frame, All are but Ministers of Love, and feed this sacred flame!’ The attractive lady sitting next to him suddenly burst into song, evidently impressed by the couple.

Amod smiled and nodded appreciatively. ‘Wordsworth, I presume!’

The lady’s eyes widened, pleasantly surprised. ‘You do know your English Literature quite well, Mr………?’

Amod blushed at the compliment. ‘Gupta. Amod Gupta. Well, I guess I should be aware of Wordsworth, I teach English at the University of Mumbai.’

‘Now, isn’t that a surprise? I’m happy to have met you, Mr Gupta. I’m Leena Mathew. I teach English myself, at the University of Dallas.’

They chit-chatted on general matters and were soon on first name basis. He found Leena a vivacious and interesting conversationalist and found her company delightful and comforting. Amod was drawn to her immediately, almost as if he had known her for many years.

Shortly, their attention was drawn again to the young couple. The male counterpart had brought out a large heart shaped card and heart shaped candy box and was in the process of offering the same to his beloved.

Leena turned to him. ‘Did you know, Valentine’s Day is named after two martyr Christian Saints of the past and there is no reference to romantic love anywhere in that legend?’

Amod blinked at the mention of Valentine’s Day and just for a second, his expression betrayed the sudden rush of emotions that he felt within. But this did not go unnoticed by the sharp eyes of his companion.

‘Are you married, Amod?’ She laughed, ‘I’m sorry for being so brazen in my manners, but I warm to people very quickly.’

‘Oh no, it’s perfectly all right. No, I haven’t found the right person as yet,’ Amod hastened to clarify.

‘And yet, your eyes speak of something deeper than that, Amod. Then surely, you are in love?’ The last question seemed to be more of a statement of fact.

‘Well, not exactly…..’ Amod hesitated.

‘Had been in love then…’ Leena persisted.

Amod laughed, ‘You are a wily woman, Leena.’

‘As all women are, my friend. But coming back to you, I say, what’s there in that? Everyone has loved at sometime or the other.’

‘Or lost, Leena. Loved and Lost.’ Amod’s voice was tinged with sadness.

‘And yet, as Tennyson says, ‘tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all!’ Leena’s tone was encouraging.

‘Indeed, Leena, of that there is no doubt!’ Amod laughed.

‘Look, they’re starting the movie…….Ohhhh! ‘Gone With The Wind!’ It’s one of my favourites!’ And with that, Leena abruptly pulled on her earphones, her eyes fixed on the screen.

‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.’ Amod didn’t feel so sure. He looked out through the window. Bright golden-yellow streaks of sunlight had appeared on the horizon and had begun to illuminate the sky in a kaleidoscope of colours, announcing the arrival of dawn. But the beauty of this exhibition by Nature did nothing to suppress the volcano of emotions that were beginning to erupt inside Amod upon hearing the word ‘Valentine’s Day.’

For it was on Valentine’s day that it had happened.

He began to envisage in his mind’s eye, the events as they had occurred in Chennai several years ago. It had been love at first sight for him. From the first day of college, when he had seen her in his class, Sunita had captivated his mind and he could not stop thinking about her.

He was fascinated by everything about her; her dark, soulful eyes, the perpetual gorgeous smile on her face and her sweet, helpful nature. During discussions in their study-group, he would steal numerous glances at her and relish every gesture of hers; the way she tilted her head when talking to someone, the way she carelessly pushed back her long, lustrous hair from her face. Every time she would read out aloud, he would watch her, mesmerised by the musical sound of her voice.

And she would seem to respond! Every time she caught him looking at her, she would smile at him and suddenly his world would seem full of laughter and song. He was truly and madly in love with her.

Then came the point where he could not bear it any longer. He had worshipped her for over two years. He desperately wanted to tell her about his feelings.

And that was the difficult part. How was it possible?! How could anyone like him propose to someone like her? If anyone got as much as a whiff of it, he would become the laughing stock of the University!

And yet, she had almost completed her M.A. Soon her parents would look for a suitable boy for her. He would lose her forever! Fear gripped his heart.

He took the decision to propose to her the very next day.

St.Valentine’s Day.

Not being confident of having the courage to propose to her in person, he wrote a long letter to her confiding his feelings to her and asking for her hand in marriage. He added that given his status, he would understand if she declined his proposal.

But if she felt the same way about him and accepted his proposal, she should send him a handkerchief with a small heart drawn at one corner.

He hid the note in a book and left it on her desk just before the class began. Unfortunately for him, Sunita arrived late that day and the book, and in consequence the note, fell into the hands of her friend who sat next to her.

The news travelled like wildfire and wherever he went, he could feel the amused eyes of everyone upon him. Everywhere he went, the jibes and comments incessantly rained down on him. Finally, one day, he was summoned to the Dean’s office.

The Dean had been very blunt and categorical. Never in the entire history of that esteemed University, did exist a Teacher, a Professor, who had abused his position and misbehaved with a student in that fashion. The University had no place for a person like him and he was required to submit his resignation with immediate effect.

His mind screamed with the desire to argue his cause. After all, what had he done? Fallen in love, that’s all. Was that such an abhorrent act? He loved her. He genuinely, sincerely loved her. He had wanted to spend his entire life with her. He wanted to make her his wife!

And he had not forced her! He had very honourably proposed to her, as a gentleman to a lady. Was that such an abominable thing to do?!!

But he found no words forthcoming. For the same mind also knew that the love of a 37 year old professor for his 23 year old student, however genuine and honourable, would always be looked upon with horror and contempt. His arguments would find no takers in the society that he lived in.

He left the town the very next day. As a small consolation, in view of his excellent academic record and with the help of a few sympathetic friends among the staff, the incident was not mentioned on his record. He moved to Mumbai where he managed to secure a low profile teaching job at the University of Mumbai.

But he always felt that the pain of losing his job was far less than the anguish that rent his heart upon losing Sunita. Given the situation, he had not had the opportunity to even say good-bye to her. A couple of his friends from Chennai who had maintained contact with him kept him updated about Sunita. As he had guessed, her parents had married her off to someone in her community. And that was the last he had heard of her.

He absently removed his wallet and gazed at her photo. This was something that he did almost everyday. And even more so on every Valentine’s Day.

He wondered if she looked the same now. It had been so long ago. She probably looked even lovelier than before. He would probably not be able to recognize her. He gave a deep sigh.

‘So you still love her, don’t you?’ Leena was watching him intently. The film had ended and she was now keenly interested in what Amod was doing.

Amod sighed again and nodded.

‘Tell me your story… please…..’ Her eyes twinkled with anticipation.

Amod gave a laugh. ‘You women are all the same! Always out to enjoy a good sob-story! OK, don’t say I didn’t warn you…...’

When Amod finished, Leena’s eyes were full of tears. She put a hand on Amod’s hand. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say…..’

‘Hey, It’s all right, you don’t have to cry. It’s all in the past now. Are you OK?’ Amod was concerned but touched by her reaction. He offered her his handkerchief and she dabbed her eyes with it.

Leena nodded and gave a short laugh, ‘Yes, I’m OK. It’s just that your story is so……. touching. I’ll just go to the rest room…’ She got up and left.

Leena returned just as the Captain was announcing the commencement of their landing at the Dallas-Fort Worth Airport. The next few minutes were spent in silence. The aircraft touched down smoothly on the runway and slowed down quickly to complete the final journey towards its assigned gate.

Amod and Leena left the aircraft together and walked towards the Immigration Clearance section.

‘Is someone coming to pick you up?’ Amod asked Leena.

‘Yes. And you?’ Leena asked as they both brought out their travel documents for inspection.

‘No one, actually. I’ll take a cab to my cousin’s house. He stays fairly close to the airport.’ They finished the Immigration formalities and walked towards the baggage claim area.

There was a grunting sound followed by a dull humming as the conveyer belt began to move, bringing out on it from behind the curtains, various articles of luggage.

I think that’s mine. Thank God it didn’t take too long!’ Leena pulled her suitcase off the belt with some help from Amod.

‘And there’s mine as well’ Amod just managed to pull his heavy bag off the belt before it passed by him.

‘And this too, I believe belongs to you?’ Amod heard Leena say.

He turned to her and froze.

He blinked once or twice in disbelief. In her outstretched hand, she held a pink handkerchief with a small heart embroidered at one corner.

With trembling hands, Amod slowly took it from her. He looked at the handkerchief fondly and tears sprang to his eyes. He jerked his head up towards Leena.

‘Where did you get this?’ His voice came out as a whisper. He was finding it difficult to speak.

‘From the same one whom you have longed for, Amod.’ Leena’s eyes were brimming with tears. ‘She was to give you this if she had the same feelings for you, was that not what you had requested?’

Amod’s voice broke down to a whisper, ‘Sunita?.......She’s here?..........In Dallas?’

Leena nodded vehemently. ‘Yes, Amod. She’s here in Dallas. And she is waiting for you.’

Amod shook his head, nonplussed. ‘But how is that possible? I had heard that………’

‘She got married?’ Leena cut him short. ‘She did, Amod, she was forced into it. But she loved YOU all along. She had fallen in love with you from the moment she had laid her eyes on you. She was deeply impressed by your knowledge and your wonderful nature. But you had no way of knowing that, did you?

While the whole world was criticizing you for proposing to her, she was the only one who was overjoyed that you had done so. But Sunita came from a very strict and orthodox family. She did not have the maturity and courage to accept your proposal and revolt against her family and society. And by the time she decided to do so, it was too late. You had left for good.’

‘Sunita was forced into marriage with a rich boy from her own community. However, she was widowed shortly after marriage when her husband died in a train accident. She then desperately tried to contact you but you had left no traces behind. She left her family and took up a job with Lufthansa which brought her to Dallas. She stayed unmarried, just like you, Amod. And she pined for you all these years. Just like you did for her.’

‘And then one day, your name showed up in the list of passenger bookings. The age seemed to match. Sunita was ecstatic. She sent me to Mumbai to confirm if it was really you. She booked me on the same flight as you from Mumbai to Dallas. At the Mumbai Airport just before our departure, I identified you, using one of her old college photos that she had given me with you in it.

Sunita then wanted to ascertain if you still felt the same way about her. She felt afraid. After all, you may have married or become committed to someone else. Or you may have forgotten about her. She wanted me to sit next to you during the flight so that I could befriend you and try to find out if you still cared for her.

So using her influence in Lufthansa, she tried to get me the seat next to yours on the flight. She was not successful on the Mumbai-Frankfurt leg of the journey, but she managed to get us to sit together on the flight from Frankfurt to Dallas.

After talking to you during the flight, I had no doubt that you still loved her intensely. I conveyed the same to her over the satellite phone when I got up to go to the restroom.

She then told me to go ahead and give you the handkerchief that I had carried with me all along. Just as you both had agreed. Eight years ago.’

Amod’s mind was reeling with what he had just heard. Words failed him and he put his arms around Leena and hugged her tightly.

‘Thank you Leena. Thank you. I don’t know how to express my gratitude…..’

‘No…..Amod…Please don’t embarrass me. This is the least I could do. After all that I’ve done…’

Amod drew back and looked questioningly at her.

Leena looked at Amod and said softly, ‘You haven’t still recognized me, have you?’

Leena’s voice sounding strained. ‘I am the cause of your misery, Amod. I am the girl who used to sit next to Sunita in your class. The same girl who had read your letter of proposal to Sunita and was stupid enough to broadcast it to everyone on the campus. I was immature and foolish at that time. By the time I realized my folly, the harm had already been done. I regretted my deed to no end. I swore that I would set things right for you, and God gave me this wonderful opportunity to do so.

Now don’t waste any more time, Amod. Go out and meet her. You both have waited long enough.’

And so saying, Leena kissed him on the cheek and hugged him briefly. Then she turned and walked away into the crowd.

Leena was right. It had been a long wait. He looked around and noticed for the first time, that the waiting lounge was decorated with bright red ribbons and hearts. He could hear the strains of ‘Unchained Melody’ by Righteous Brothers playing softly in the background. He looked at the sunshine streaming in through the gate that led outside. Where his beloved Sunita would be waiting for him. His heart had already begun to beat faster in anticipation.

It was going to be a beautiful Valentine’s Day, he thought as he smiled and walked out through the gate.

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Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Aliens……Ahoy…..!! (Humor)


This morning, my 9 year old son woke me up to tell me that some aliens had landed in Australia. Then my attention was drawn to the newsreader on TV who was announcing that the State Government had announced an enquiry into the violent riots that some political party had started in Mumbai. Such matters of national interest cause me great concern. Naturally, I was alarmed.

I had to know if these aliens were good at playing cricket. It’s bad enough that the aussies are excellent with their bat and ball. And to top that, if they started assimilating into their team, aliens with great cricketing skills, that would be the end of the competition; they might as well permanently install the World Cup in the Sydney Opera House or whatever they call it.
On second thoughts, it might actually act for the wellness of the sport. Cricket teams all over the world would be relieved of the stress of winning the Cup and get down to enjoy the true spirit of cricket.
Like abusing each other on the cricket field.

Incidentally, the ruckus in Mumbai seems to have occurred because of something on the same lines. No, Not cricket. But due to the fact that some enterprising gentlemen got their geography a little mixed up. It was their understanding that Indians who came from the states of UP and Bihar were ALIENS! These enlightened souls had deduced that the ‘U’ in UP stood for Uranus and the ‘B’ in Bihar stood for Pluto. They concluded that these monsters had descended from thier planets in their hordes with the intention of grabbing their jobs! Emboldened by this new-found knowledge, these brave warriors set about trying to send these ‘aliens’ back to their planets by attacking them. And the Keepers of the Law sat back and watched the mayhem until it was brought to their notice that these names (Uttar Pradesh and Bihar) did occur on some of that correspondence from the Central Government. So it was possible that these were names of states in INDIA and these people could possibly be INDIANS! The Keepers of the Law then clapped their hands to their foreheads, (coz’ the Central Government must have clapped their shoes to their a**ses!) Anyway, Law was restored and the State has now begun its usual protocol of acting shocked and forming committees to investigate the matter etc…

Until a few days ago, the word ‘Alien’ to me meant a 10-legged or 5-headed creature who used foul language and had bad body odour. Then I learnt that even two legged creatures are called by that name in the USA. Even if they smell nice and don’t use foul language. The use of this term in official US Government vocabulary stems from the US Presidents’ preoccupation with Hollywood films like ‘Independence Day’ where they imagine every foreigner to step out of his spacecraft.. sorry…aircraft and try to take over the country. I think the term ‘Alien’ for foreigners is downright derogatory and demeaning. I have half a mind to write to the US President and ask him to change it to something more respectful.
Like ‘Extra-terrestrial!’

Of Bag-Thieves and Gila Monsters..... (Humor)

Our friends back in Mumbai keep wondering why my wife and I ever shifted to small town like Dahanu. They ask us how we must pass our time in a sleepy seaside town and we retort that we get opportunities to do many fun things.
Like getting robbed.

Yes! It happened one day, in the middle of the night (yeah, I know it sounds odd….day-night) Anyway, I was fast asleep dreaming pleasant dreams of Bipasha Basu and me in a luxury Spa and…um…..well… whatever….. And I heard a soft click. At first I thought it was the sound of the door opening and my wife entering the spa with a gun…THAT woke me up.
And then I realized that someone had just closed our bedroom door. I checked my watch and found my wife and kids fast asleep. Well, I was half asleep and I assumed the breeze must have closed the door. So I went back to sleep.

Well, the next morning we woke up and my wife suddenly pointed out the closed door. I told her about the previous night’s event (minus the dream).
“We’ve been burgled,” she screamed, the woman in her promptly exerting herself. In response, the man in me smiled patiently and told her not to worry and that the breeze may have closed the door. Then equally patiently, she pointed out that the breezes in Dahanu had not yet become capable of releasing the latch which keeps the door open against the wall. Always the Practical One, the wife.

This opened a new line of thought. So I sprang from the bed, opened the door deftly and immediately flailed my arms and legs about in a series of scary du-so-ku kung fu moves. This was partly because I was expecting an armed burgler.
It was also because in my hurry, I had tripped over my own pyjamas and almost fallen on my nose.
So then we got around trying to work out the more important but less exciting aspects of the burglary like what was missing and how he entered the house. Apparently, our man had sawed a hole through the metal grill of our balcony and entered the house. And guess what he stole.
Bags. Yes, four empty bags. We were scratching our heads about this until the next day when we heard that a gang of thieves had broken into 3 or 4 houses in the same area and made off with a lot of loot. Like morons, they then discovered that they had left home on their expedition without the necessary bags to carry the loot in. Maybe they had thought they could always pick up some at the local Walmart or something. Then they hit upon this bright idea that we would instead, kindly supply them with the same for free. Talk about luck.

Anyway, the incident made us realize how slip-shod our existing grills were. It also made my wife go into some kind of acute paranoia. She then started suspecting all movable and non-movable entities of wanting to enter our house and loot us. And the comments by ‘friendly, sympathetic’ visitors about how those dacoits could have killed us all in our beds before looting us didn’t help.

She then decided that as regards our house, more like Fort Knox, the better. Heads must roll, she opined and so the existing grills, she said, must be disposed with on an immediate basis. Plans were drawn to replace them with new state-of-the-art grills made of metal rods of so-and-so thickness, welded at exactly so-and-so points to leave exactly so-and-so space so as not to allow the smallest sized human head to get through. 98.62% of our daily conversations involved grills (the other 1.38% involved other possible security measures) Soon I started seeing Grills in my dreams and I started getting worried that my wife will leave her Anesthesiology practice and take up the Grill Business.
She had even started considering electronic burglar alarm systems but I reminded her gently that we have power cuts in Dahanu and we could always consider it later, after the grills were made. Just as I was considering placing the order for the night-vision glasses and laser-sighting self-loading automatic machine guns, the Grill-Man reported that the grills were finally made and that he would come and fix them up.

And so ladies and gentlemen, now all the windows and doors of our house (about 10 in all) sport brand new, rock solid metal grills totally weighing…..guess……believe it or not, 1000 kg! That’s ONE TON of cast iron hanging on to our external walls making me wonder whether all that any aspiring burglar would have to do in future would be to just gently pull on those grills and the walls supporting them will simply collapse outwards with its weight.
On the burglar.

Now guys, a question. What does an ophthalmologist like me who is inane enough to leave the Big City (Mumbai) and its attractions and set up shop in a sleepy, rural town thirst for? Give up? OK. It's Variety & Diversity. Now when I say Variety & Diversity, I mean challenging clinical cases that will slosh the old cerebrum around a bit in its brain-brine and shake it out of its somnolence. When I say V. & D. what I don't include in its scope is ..........MATCHMAKING!

I can hear you recoil in horror. I recoiled exactly in the same way. As a kind hearted man myself, the thought of being an accomplice in a crime which will deprive some unsuspecting brother of his freedom and award him the Life Sentence, gives me the guilty goose pimples too! And yet I was an unwilling accomplice in this heinous act!

It started innocently enough with the main schemer of the crime, a good looking young woman (N.B. "all that glitters is not gold!") calling on me at my OPD. She told me that she had not come for a check up, but for some 'advice'. Furtively, she indicated that she wanted my assistant to leave the room.
Sensing danger, I casually felt for the Magnum 007.3 gun that normally hangs in its holster somewhere near my armpit and tickles me. Not finding it in its usual place (damn that cleaning lady), I nonchalantly opened my desk-drawer so she could get a view of the fake syringe that I normally use to scare small kids into eating their vegetables.

Anyway, I observed with bated breath as she slowly pulled out from her purse, a small ....no, not a gun, but a photo! I took it in my hands to have a look.

It was a male, that much I could tell; no self respecting lady would allow herself to get photographed with THAT MUCH hair on her forearms. And face.
But what a face! Each feature was a definite nominee for the award for the most grotesque eyesore, the one that took the cake was the pair of bulging, bullfrog like eyes glaring belligerently back at the observer, conveying a feeling of profound animosity at the photographer in particular and at the world in general. I was tempted to ask for a copy. The National Geographic Channel would have paid a bundle to have this photo in their possession.

My guest explained that this was a 'shaadi ka rishta' that had arrived for her younger sister.
I stared at his coarse features in fascination. I also found myself admiring this guy who, with a mug like that, actually had the guts to go out into the marriage market and then expect to come back with a trophy!

I realized that the lady was drawing my attention to his glasses. She told me that the matter had almost been finalized, when an alert and observant relative of the girl had pointed out that he wore glasses. The point had been noted and deliberated for hours among the wise elders in the girl's family and they had very astutely concluded that the boy was completely blind.
I was tempted to point out that in a face resembling that of a Gila Monster, they had but noticed only his glasses. That left me somewhat confused as to who was actually blind.

The story gets more interesting. As we know, Gila Monsters are also God's creation and for every male G.M. crawling around, there often lurks around the corner, his female counterpart. Something about this reptile-man had made its impression on my visitor's sister and she was convinced that this was her long awaited soul mate and as an aspirant for this post, he stood alone.

The bright, budding bride had argued that the glasses didn't look thick enough as to render him completely blind. But The Elders were convinced of the contrary and had remained adamant on their stand. Tempers had flared and Dark Clouds of Conflict had gathered overhead. Both parties had threatened dire consequences. Then somehow wiser counsel had prevailed. It was decided to defer the matter to the appropriate authority with experience in the field and I, being the 'Family Ophthalmologist', was the unanimous choice.

Since I was married, AND to their known knowledge, I did not have any personal interest in the girl, they probably felt that my impartial judgment could be relied upon. So here was I, acting in the capacity of an authority, endeavoring to make a judgment on whether the bozo in the photo was indeed visually handicapped enough to be unable to deliver the goods (no pun intended!)

I asked her if she could get him to me for a checkup. She replied that as the matter was a delicate one, that would not be possible.
So it was up to me and all those years of hard, rigorous training at Mumbai’s KEM and Sion Hospitals, to make that decision.
I wore a grim expression on my face and examined the photo from all angles, all the time mumbling 'Ah, hmmm, aha' and making similar intelligent sounding noises. All the facts about pathological myopia, amblyopia, retinal detachment, rectal haemorrhoids, priapism and other God forsaken diseases raced through my mind. After some minutes of intense brainstorming, EUREKA! I had the diagnosis!

It had dawned on me that if this specimen was capable of focusing on the camera taking his photo, he probably had at least enough vision to be able to recognize his would-be wife and her demented relatives from at least a short distance.
I triumphantly shot my cuffs and pronounced the verdict, "He's OK". I added the necessary disclaimer about my inability to give a confirmed diagnosis until I had examined him in person, a possibility which I hoped would never arise.
And so ladies and gentlemen, thanks to yours truly, a Mr. and Mrs. Gila Monster are honeymooning somewhere in nuptial bliss.

Disclaimer: All of the above facts are imaginary and bear no resemblance to any human or reptile, living, dead or in hibernation. So don’t go trying to finding a way to come here and confirming the truth of the story.
And if you do come anyway, relax, for you will be welcome at our house.
As long as you don’t pull on the grills.