BIRTHDAY BLUES

The year was 1991 and I was preparing to celebrate the completion of one more year and the dawn of another year of my lifespan. My colleagues were equally enthused to find my birthday nearing. One among them was a senior person named Ranganath. He used to fondly refer to me as Chhota Pandit. His weakness was sweets and being the youngest of the lot, I had been entrusted with the onerous task of snatching any sweet offered to him. He was diabetic and had been advised strongly to avoid sweets. The fast approaching birthday threw up a dilemma as to how I would be able to offer him sweets and the same time take it away. Luckily for me he planned a tour and was informing us of this. Impishly he looked at me and said "Chhota Pandit I will be back for your birthday" He also said he would make me pay for my earlier deeds by taking away the entire sweets. Another colleague confirmed that he would be back. However, on the day prior to my birthday, I found him missing and on enquiry came to know that he had been hospitalised. After my office hours, I returned to my room and after deliberating thought it would be best that I visit him after my dinner. After a quick dinner at about 8 pm I made my way to the hospital. On reaching the hospital, I found him on the bed but his wife requested me to procure a drug which she said was not available in the hospital pharmacy. She claimed that I was god sent. After reassuring her, I made my way to a couple of pharmacies and drew a blank. One of the pharmacists said that only a distributor could help me at this late hour. This reminded me of my lodgemate Krishna. I rushed back to the lodge and told Krishna about the requirement. Both of us set out on his Bajaj and procured the medicine. The roads were more or less deserted and we could reach in good time to the hospital. As we handed over the drug to her, she wept and asked us whether we could help her in taking out his body. This came as a rude shock. Neither was I god sent nor had my avarice for dinner helped the cause. Guided by Krishna, I quietly joined him in lifting him to the car parked outside. We dropped him home and returned.

The next day was solemn and sombre. Colleagues counselled me that I should not go to the crematorium. However, I felt I owed this to him. We all escorted him and bid him the last farewell. Mr . Ranganath had the last laugh. My birthday was never celebrated. None got the sweets. He took them all forever in lieu of the sweets I had snatched from him. Today, when someone greets me on my birthday with the standard phrase "Many happy returns of the day" , I ask to myself " Having lost a happy man on the same day could this day turn happy" From birth day it has turned into his anniversary. Never has my birthday been the same and never will it be.

STRANGE ENCOUNTER

It was a new day at a new place. Belgaum was the place and I was a stranger to the place. On a new posting I had come down and enrolled myself into one of the lodges close to my workplace late in the evening. After a quiet solitary dinner, I had hit the sack with a promise to be on the dot to the workplace the next morning. The biological clock did wonders and I was up in the morning. The new place did not in any way hinder the drowsiness associated with the waking hours. Drowsily, I was brushing my teeth when I heard my name being called. Turning around I beheld a bespectacled character of about the same age grinning at me. He disarmingly said "You have not changed much". The succour of the drowsiness melted into the misty morning as I gazed at the stranger. My mouth was frothing with the hand gently brushing my teeth. The youth went on " Well, finish your chore, remember my name?" I made up my mind that this character must have merely glanced through the register maintained and was pulling a fast one. Nonchalantly, I went through the motions of the morning, passed on a fleeting smile with a "Meet you in the evening". The day was filled with introductions, a wonderful lunch hosted by a gracious boss followed by some colleagues giving me helpful tips. One of them went ahead to present me my probable leave periods which would benefit me. Another, took me to the Extension Counter and opened a bank account for me. The terrorising picture of a world which would not have the protective arms of your parents waned. At the end of the day, I joyously made my way to the nearest post office to purchase some postal stationery. After a quick snack, I settled in my room to pen my experience to my parents. After finishing with this exciting chore, I rushed to mail the same. No sooner did I drop the mail into the mail box, I started looking forward for a reply. Forget about mobiles, email etc , even telephones were a luxury and the PCO culture was yet to really gather momentum. Fixing an appointment in the mess for dinner, I strolled back to the lodge only to be greeted by the bespectacled youth. Without any invitation, he walked into my room and started querying me about my history on the planet Earth. Courtesy prevented me from snapping at him. He understood my dilemma and traced our common roots to a single year association at school when we were six year olds. My jaws dropped. Could someone who met me when we were six year olds recognise me when I was in my twenties? The alleged buddy then started reeling out names of the other classmates who went on to study with me through the rest of my school days. The names of our teachers were also etched in his mind. Apparently, this was not entered in any register for him to con me. Disbelief was writ all over my face. After a night of disturbed sleep, the next morn, I shot of another letter to my mother with the name of this blighter, Puran. A week of admonishing from him continued. My roommate, a lecturer, gave me the much needed succour. The reply from home came and there it was clearly written that this fellow was indeed my classmate and the photograph of those days were there. Blurred to the hilt, I resigned to the fate of conceding defeat to this super human whose memory still bogs me whenever I fail to find a pen in its place or hunt for a document.

JHALAKA

It was a day for nostalgia. A new bunch of young recruits joined and took me back to the days when I had hesitantly taken the few steps in the outside world without the protective arms of a parent or guardian. The city was Hubli and I was to attend an interview. Alighting from a bus at Hubli in the wee hours of the morning, I looked around and located a lodge to station myself. A slingbag contained my original certificates and the change overs. All of about 5 ft 9 in tall and a thin mush cropping up on a slender frame the receptionist at the lodge placed me as a student. He quizzed me on my intentions of the visit as well as the location of the interview. The elderly man then decided that I was not in need of a room. He queried me in the Dharwad dialect -"Jhalaka adhare saakalla". The term Jhalaka was new. In South Karnataka the term used is Snana. Once he explained this to me, he offered to give me the facilities of refreshing myself as well as have a bath. My suspicions arose as to why he was doing this. He explained that the location for the interview was close by and he would offer the facility for a princely sum of rupees two as against the room rent of rupees fifteen. I saluted the man accepted his proposal and remember his good gesture. May be another day I would also be able to extend such a gesture to someone!!!!!!