The Marlok Mystery

This is my first attempt at writing a story. This story will continue for the next 2 or 3 weeks. I hope you like it. Please feel free to tell me how I can make my story better.

I closed my eyes to open them in an alien land. I had no idea about who forced me to travel to this new land. I felt as if my life had been taken from me. I felt lifeless. The reality, however, was that I had faced the phenomenon the world feared --- death.

I am Gitanjali Sarkar, a 25 year-old social worker from Hugli in West Bengal. I was murdered a week back in Pune. I was on my way back from work when I felt a striking pain in my neck. I had no idea about who had killed me. Actually, I still don’t.

I was born in a relatively poor family in Hugli. My mother, Satyaboti worked as domestic help and father, Nishanath had a government job of a clerk. I had 4 siblings. My family found it tough to make ends meet. Sometimes, we hardly had enough food to feed ourselves. I was the eldest of all siblings. I had two younger brothers, Ajit and Tapesh, and one sister, Durga and my youngest sister was Kali. We all struggled a lot to sustain with the food we had.

My parents thought that education was very important. They believed that education would act as a Messiah and lift the curse of poverty from our lives. I was passionate about my studies and took them seriously. I felt really lucky that my parents were sending me to a school instead of marrying me off to some random boy, which is what most families do.

The days went by in the same way. Then, one day a ray of sunshine shone upon us. Baba (my father) was offered a job in a post office in Pune. We definitely felt bad leaving Hugli, but we had no option.

Pune welcomed us with open hands. I was 14 at the time we shifted to Pune. I definitely had difficulty in adjusting with the language and had to learn Marathi and Hindi. I scored 90% in my grade 10 board exams. Due to my excellent grades, I got a scholarship in a good college. I picked Humanities.

I started working as a waitress in various restaurants to supplement the income that my parents earned. I passed grade 12 with flying colors. But, a calamity struck. My father passed away due to cardiac arrest.

We all were shocked. We found it tough to recover from this loss. Our family income reduced incredibly. My younger brother, Ajit had to sell newspapers and Tapesh had to clean cars to earn enough for the family.

Years passed by and we managed to turn from poor to middle-class. I started working for an NGO which looked after poor children. Having experienced poverty, empathy took control and made me enroll for this job. Ajit became an engineer and Tapesh wanted to become a writer. Durga wanted to be a chartered accountant and Kali was going to pass her Grade 12 that year. Maa had become old and we kids didn’t allow her to work any longer.

I had fallen in love with Pune. The city had a life of its own. It was friendly and warm. It welcomed all with open hands and provided loads of love to each inhabitant. Pune had helped me climb the ladder of success. It had helped me to conquer my dreams.

I was really happy with my job and was enjoying it. But one day, a calamity occurred. I was coming home after work. I usually walk back from work. When I was about 100 meters away from the society, I felt a piercing pain in my neck. It was as if someone had stabbed me. I’m not really sad that I died. I have gradually accepted it. All I am worried about is how my family will survive.

For the past week, I have been in Marlok (World of Dead), as a mere soul who is clueless about how her death occurred. I really want to know for what reason I was killed and by whom.

I was told that it was a poisoned sewing needle that cut a vein in my neck and ultimately killed me. I can’t wait to find the truth. A person is officially considered dead once she has spent 2 weeks in Marlok. I guess I will have to wait for another week to find the reason for my death………

(To be continued)

IPL Fever

8.00 a.m.: I wake up with a start. I had a really weird dream. I was attending a cricket match with my school buddies. I have a really awkward set of friends. So basically, we are all cheering for our dear team Pune and Sid blurts out, “ Yaha kuch khaane ke liye milega kya?” (Will I get anything to eat?) At that very moment, the cricket ball falls into Sid’s mouth. I realize that my dear MS Dhoni has hit a six. Parnika suddenly starts talking in her rarely heard childish tone and keeps saying, “Trophy chahiye!” Ronit starts crying for no reason and Shruti starts letting out her sarcastic laugh. Tina keeps blabbering something about Harry Potter and Dibya keeps munching khakhras. Tanaya and Vaishnavi start a conversation that basically consists of pakao Marathi jokes. Palak keeps dancing and Isha just stares at everyone with a blank expression.  The other people (who are perhaps slightly less crazy) try to calm these people.  

The dream then fast-forwards to the end of the match and the Pune team lifts the trophy. Our faces beam with pride and happiness knows no bounds. We start dancing like lunatics. All of a sudden, we see Steve Smith saying, “Having a good time?” We find ourselves in the Kingfisher ad scene. We start running quickly towards our favourite players in order to get a selfie with them. But these players suddenly start dancing on the Jio dhan dhana dhan music. We dance along with them. Thankfully, I wake up and stop this series of idiotic thoughts.

8.30 a.m.: I freshen up and try to think of the cause of this stupid dream of mine. I become like the person in the Mentos ad ‘cause dimaag ki batti jal jaati hai. I realize that it is the finale of IPL today and my favourite team- Rising Pune Supergiant has finally made it to the finale. The scrappy sister suddenly enters the scene. She tells me about how I was dancing in my sleep last night. Ah, that dream really ruined my silent-sleeper reputation. 

10.00 a.m.: After a typical Puneri breakfast of missal pav, maa says that Pune will win today. The scrappy sister joins in with a piece of jamun pointing out that she loves Pune so much that she is eating a purple fruit (purple is the colour of the Pune jersey). I check my Whatsapp and share my excitement about the evening with my society friends. They laugh at my excitement since they don’t exactly like cricket. One of the craziest ones comments that food is mood. I just stare at my phone with a peculiar expression.

1.00 p.m.: I check my Whatsapp again and observe that my 8A buddies are discussing a lot about the match. I find this eerie because most of my friends from my dream are my 8A friends. I guess I was right when I called them lunatics.

3.00 p.m.: My phone has been producing its irritating ‘beep’ sound for a while now so I decide to find out the cause of this beeping. I find out that my dear 8A friends have come up with a stupid and irritating yet super fun way of conversation. Basically, everyone has to chat using hash tags. So for the past hour, the ‘hash tag’ conversation has been going on in the group.

8.00p.m.: My whole family, including dadu dadi is sitting eagerly to watch this match. We are munching on delicious junk food and basically increasing our calorie intake. But we are also having a blast together. Meanwhile, on the 8 A group, the hash tag conversation is still on and craziness is at its peak. You wouldn’t need Cric Buzz if you were on the group; updates of every minute were on the group. And ya, the hash tag conversation was on.

12.00 a.m.: I am grieving at Pune’s loss by one run. Everyone is disappointed. Though Mumbai the tournament, Pune won hearts by its hard work and never-give up attitude. Pune is the winner for me.  IPL doesn’t just fuel our excitement tanks; it also teaches us so many things. Teamwork, adjustment, battling loss, never giving up, IPL teaches it all. Also, it brings us together. Family, friends, acquaintances, we discuss sports with all! So, Pune may win or lose, I am happy with IPL 10! 

Khane mein kya loge? -2

Summer and food are interlinked. As I mentioned in part 1, food for Indians isn’t just a mode of nutrition. For us, food is respect, happiness, wisdom (a paunch) and even the symbol of a happy person. Summer is that season which provides us perhaps the widest variety of food and an enormous amount of satisfaction. Summer and food is perhaps the best season-happiness combo. So let’s bite into this yummy, full-of masala delicious and hot combo.

The first food item that would come to our minds by the mention of summer is Mango. A summer without Mango is like a sabji without salt, rasgulla without that sticky sugar syrup, Bollywood without drama and childhood without play. Fresh, juicy mangoes are a treat during summers. Keri, badam, kesar, hapoos, dusheri, langda, chaunsa, mulgoba, raspuri, himsagar and totapuri are some varieties of mangoes in India. Each variety is ek se badhkar ek. All the varieties are super yummy. Sipping a glass of aamras or aam panna in the scorching heat is like a small rendezvous with the taste of heaven. The competitions about who eats more mango pieces or who cleans the mango peel most are full of energy and enthusiasm and a spirit of healthy competition. The various mango preparations are to die for.

Another important aspect of summer food is ice cream. Ice cream of each and every flavor is experimented with in this season. Licking the creamy ice cream is an irresistible pleasure. Vanilla with chocolate sauce, mangoes and aloo bhujia (we have awkward combinations) are a treat. Barf ka gola (ice ball) with the syrup of kaala khatta, gulab, nimbu, strawberry, orange, aam, etc are a sumptuous and soothing treat.

All our cool cold drinks, mocktails, milkshakes, smoothies also become very essential for our sustenance in summer. Here comes in the concept of ice. This frozen piece of water is what provides us relief from the deadly heat. Ice has a place with coconut water, normal water, milkshakes, smoothies, cold drinks, etc.

Summer is a season that brings us happiness and food is something that brings smiles to all our faces. When taken together, they bring loads and loads of happiness. The scorching summer heat can be beaten by these sumptuous meals. So, garmi se takkar mein khana avval hai.

School in swarg Part 2

Shiv ji entered. The bang was the sound of his familiar damroo. Ah, it was khel class after all. Ghatotkach did not exactly appreciate this physical training. He and Ganesh were perhaps the only vidyarthi in class who did not enjoy playing a variety of games. It made them hungry.

Nevertheless, that day they played gulli danda and went for a quick jog around the swargiya school campus. Soon, the moment Ghatotkach was waiting for arrived. Khel class got over. As he entered the class, he saw Lakshmi devi  smile at him. It was angrezi class now. Lakshmi devi adorned almost every ornament that had been made on bhulok. Her saree was a bright golden one and her face shone like a platinum ring. Lakshmi devi was perhaps the only teacher who actually seemed to like him. She was a symbol of money, and nowadays at swarglok, the gateway to a good job (and hence money) was angrezi. He smiled back at her. Angrezi class went smoothly. They learnt the story of samudra manthan.

Next up was ganit class. Ghatotkach sighed. He didn’t really like seeing Brahma ji’s uncountable heads. Brahma ji was full of wisdom, heads and ganit formulas. The problem was that Ghatotkach comprised of ladoos, kachoris and samosas. Life was tough for poor Ghatotkach. Brahma ji  began with the formula of how a human being is actually made in swarg lok. Ghatotkach, however, couldn’t concentrate. His emotions right now were messed up. He was happy as it was the last class for the day. He was sad as well because after school, he would have to encounter the wrath of Indra ji.

Ghatotkach’s mind began to oscillate like a pendulum. To calm his mind, he gulped some rasgullas, thus depicting his great talent of eating sumptuous meals without the knowledge of the guru. His mind finally stopped. Brahma ji had asked him the formula to calculate the area of a human head. He scratched his head in despair. He didn’t even know the slightest thing about a human head. All he knew was that he would run a successful restaurant in the future. There was no use calculating area of human heads!

He got a lovely slap on his face from his dearest Brahma ji.  He ignored the pain and chomped some more rasgullas to hide his pain. Brahma ji continued his ganit and Ghatotkach continued ignoring. Finally, the class got over and Brahma ji left.

Ghatotkach prepared himself for Indra’s torture. He was habitual to such torture. He walked out of the school and went towards Indra’s mansion.

  

School in swarg Part 1

So, it has been a year since I have been blogging. For my 1^st year anniversary, I will be re writing some of my old articles. I didn’t post this weekend, because this article needed time.  So, here’s Swarg in school with a twist. Apologies for the delay! Hope you enjoy the article!

  “Indra ji! Indra ji!” Vishnu exclaimed. Indra picked a fruit from the Kalpavriksha. He turned slowly, and murmured under his breath, “Opening a school in Swarg was the worst thing I ever did. Being a principal has really snatched away my privacy.” Then, stroking Airavats milk-like white skin, Indra replied in an uninterested tone, “What is it Vishnu?” Vishnu, used to the varying moods of Indra, replied calmly, “This Ghatotkach doesn’t seem to understand that Sudarshan chakra sliced Shishupal’s head because it was a blade, and not some idiotic rubber toy. His mischief is unstoppable! Hamara suna ansuna kar deta hai, mahodaya ji. All teachers have a problem with him. ” Ghatotkach glanced at Vishnu, and thought, “ I remember that we learnt something about the Sudarshan chakra, but what was it? Urgh, I keep forgetting half of the stuff we learn in school.” His thoughts were interrupted by a ignorant Indra, “Fine. Arrange a meeting with all the teachers and this little mischief-maker. Now go and teach vigyaan Vishnu ji.” Vishnu left, feeling assured. He could finally switch his thoughts from Ghatotkach to the working of the brahmastra.

 Ghatotkach sighed. His fat-bellied, chubby yet adorable physique needed at least 100 plums per day. He was dieting after all. He had unfortunately missed his lunch break. Now he was really annoyed at the very thought of seeing his teachers who were Gods and Goddesses in reality. His father, the great Bheem, kept giving him his advice which was enlightened with wisdom. He was told to feel privileged to be a part of this prestigious institution. But all he could feel was lazy and hungry.  He wanted to be normal. This whole godliness had overpowered his happy-go lucky life.

He walked beside Vishnu, with Vishnu blabbering something and Ghatotkach ignoring it. Soon, they saw a neatly painted, clean and tidy, three-storeyed building. It was surrounded by bright blue clouds and was floating on the cotton-like clouds. A chariot stood before them. They sat on the bright yellow chariot which had ‘Swarg ka vidyalay’ written on both sides in bold black. Ghatotkach let out a disgusted look.

After climbing one complete floor and walking for about 500 steps, Ghatotkach reached his class as tired as a koala bear and perspiring heavily. He saw Ganga devi in class, teaching a Hindi lesson. She was teaching sandhi, and as usual, no one was paying attention. Hindi was a neglected subject at school. No one exactly cared about Ganga devi. They thought that since she had got really popular in bhulok, she had started over-acting lately. Ghatotkach sat, his hands on his head. Suddenly, he heard a bang…………………………..

(To be continued)

   

Khaane mein kya loge?-1

If life was a film, food would be the intermission. Food is one of the most important and one of the best parts of life. There are two categories of people in the world- those who eat to live and those who live to eat. I fall in the latter. Food is the bright color in a dull room. It is your favorite scene of a T.V. serial. It is like your favorite actor or actress; you need to see it every day.

For Indians, food is more than just a word. Indian food reflects this view. I don’t think that there is even one Indian who can live without eating Indian food. Food is very important for us Indians.

Let me give you some common examples. When a child comes back from a birthday party, he is asked two things—“How was the party?” and “Khaane mein kya tha?” Even when a person hosts a birthday party, food is a major element for its success. Even the criteria to judge a wedding is food. I have seen in movies, when the hosts ask the guests about how the food was, the typical nakchadi aunties answer, “Dal mein namak zyada hai aur bhai ye gulab jamun itna meetha kyu hai?” This salty dal and oversweet gulab jamun become their top gossip stories and they talk about the hosts in a nasty way. I am sure you can visualize the over made-up faces of these aunties with flashy, their bit-too bright sarees and their nasty tone.

When a guest comes home, the first thing that is discussed is the food items that will be present. Even the guests come with high expectation. So, if the guest doesn’t eat properly, the host gets really disappointed. Also, if the food if not good, the guests also show an awkward face to the host. Basically, during few situations, food is regarded as self-respect. There was a chapter in my last year Hindi textbook, Tum kab jaoge, atithi, which describes the misery of a host and how frustrating his duties towards his guest are. The author mentions how he had to turn his raat ka khana into a ucch-madhyam vargi dinner. Food is very important.

Food at school and office is yet another example of how food affects our daily routine. You eat your dear aloo parathas from your friend’s tiffin. You actually feel happy when you see some junk food or any of your favourite food items in their tiffin boxes. Stanley ka dabba is a movie that actually shows our dependence on others lunch boxes. I personally ask each friend of mine about their lunch as soon as I enter the class.

Food for us isn’t just rasmalai, kaali dal, rosgulla, fish curry, vada pav, chola bhatura, malai kulfi, gulab jamun, idli-dosa-sambar.  Food really means a lot to us. Food is our pride.

If Ashoka was Egyptian

Egyptian history is among the most interesting ones in the world. After reading about the various miracles that these people did in the past, one gets awestruck! After seeing the various monuments in this wondrous country, and after reading a bit about the history of these, I have decided to twist history a bit for this article.

I have written articles that have described my absurd idea of some famous international personalities being Indian. Today, I am going to twist it a little. So let’s see how Ashoka would be if he was Egyptian.

First, let’s go through some statistics. Ashoka’s reign started in 272 BCE. Ptolemy II Philadelphus was his contemporary Egyptian pharaoh. This pharaoh belonged to the same dynasty as the famous Cleopatra, and was half- Greek. In fact, he is mentioned in one of Ashoka’s edicts.

During Ashoka’s times, Egypt followed a religion that comprised of polytheistic beliefs. Many Gods were worshipped. Unlike India, where various religions were followed, only this religion was followed in whole of Egypt. So if Ashoka was Egyptian, we would see him worshipping Gods like Osiris, Ra, Isis, Horus, Anubis, Thoth, Sobek, Noot, Iris and many more. Ashoka would possibly not be the king who propagated Buddhism to various parts of the world.

Also, in ancient Egypt, the king was considered the son of God, and sometimes God himself. He was considered a living form of Osiris, the son of Amun-Ra (king of Gods). Some kings were even worshipped and temples were built in their remembrance. Perhaps we would see a temple dedicated to Ashoka.

Ashoka wore something that was similar to a dhoti. We wore a turban or pagdi and wore various ornaments. He had shoulder-length hair. If he was Egyptian, his ensemble was subject to change. Egyptian pharaohs used to put a false beard to highlight their manliness. Their heads used to have a huge crown.  They wore a bottom similar to a petticoat that Indian women wear. Sometimes they wore a kalsiris, which was basically a large piece of cloth, worn with or without a gown. It was draped in many ways. Even they wore a couple of ornaments.

Egyptian pharaohs had a desire to expand their kingdom and to conquer new territories. Ashoka wanted to make peace with the surrounding areas and not conquer the areas. Perhaps Ashoka might not be as peace-abiding as we see him now if he was Egyptian.

I think that it would be great to imagine Ashoka to be Egyptian, but if all this was real, our country would lose one of its greatest kings.

I hope you all enjoyed this article.