Chirag Tale Andhera

Adjacent to the Laburnum is the most talked about house occupied by the most status family in the street. Everyone holds the posh doctor and scientist couple in great awe. I always imagine seeing a halo of sophistication and modernity emanating from their persona. Almost all of my madamjis regularly prod me for the latest happenings from this household. After all, we enjoy the coveted status of gossipmongers amongst these high-fi Saabs and Sahibaas. These people na, I tell you, they are always busy in their aping business! What is the new design she is wearing, what is the new gadget they are buying, what was the level of her kitty party, these are the standard topics of their sub-standard discussions, yes sub-standard even by my standards! Even small people like us discuss national problems like Karnataka floods and Kalahandi droughts, may be because majority of the affected folks there belong to our class.

Today morning, as I was about the start my routine work at the house, I notice the car entering the portico with Doctor Saab at the wheels. He opens the door for the other two eerie creatures inside. I am shocked to find him escorting the two attired in discoloured ochre robes inside the house. Their overflowing beards remind me of the story of birds building nests in an ascetic's beards. Their wide foreheads are adorned with some kind of ash and their bulging eyes are fiery red. Doctor Saab had told me one fine day that this happens due to over drinking over a prolonged period of time. Strings of wrinkled beads hang loosely around their necks. As I stare incredulously at the thick bouquet of brilliant blue peacock plumes they are waving at no one in particular, Saab orders me to bend down and touch their feet as a mark of respect. I hurriedly obey him and rush out of the hall confused. I notice other madamjis giving each other confused glances and wry smiles from the balconies of their houses.

In the afternoon, Kutte-wali madamji summons me suggestively, 'Sakku, what was going on at Doctor Saab's place in the morning?'

I reply, 'Saab's little daughter is suffering from jaundice, unhone jhada lagwaya tha.'

Kutte-wali madamji gets interested, 'Arey baap re, jhada! Can you detail me on the jhada process?' 

I describe, 'The guest room was filled with suffocating Hawan ka Dhuan and Gudiya was made to sit in the centre of the room. Then she was bathed in honey, milk and oil. All through this, she was constantly being hit by the peacock plumes on head and back. I got a back-ache cleaning up the mess afterwards!'

Kutte-wali madamji goes hysterical, 'Hai Rabba, Doctors also started believing in jhaad-phoonk! Medical Science is on real decline! I availed this doctor's services for my son's jaundice treatment two years back! Hey Rabba, please take care of my little son!'

Then she goes on to call other madamjis one by one for breaking this news with quite a spicy contribution from her own side. Though she hardly takes notice of my plight at her house, today she ostensibly sympathizes with my back-ache just to disgrace the scientist madam. 

The other Saturday, I happen to reach Doctor Saab's house an hour earlier. I am curious to find a Shani Dev wrapped in white clothes waiting at the gate. I am about to ask him to leave when Scientist madam signals me from balcony to wait outside quietly. In the meanwhile, Shani Dev replaces the shriveled nimbu-mirchi at the gate with fresh one. I realize that this household task, like most others, has also been outsourced. I see Doctor Saab coming down the driveway. At some distance from the gate, he removes his sandals and washes his hands and feet. Now he walks up to the Shani Dev bare feet, balances himself on left leg with right leg twisting around the former, he resembles the meditating Dhruv now, supports the right elbow with left palm, closes his eyes, bows his head, mutters a few inaudible shlokas and offers oil to Shani Dev's bucket with his right hand. This is followed by an offering of hundred bucks. God, how Saab haggles not to pay me for the few days I fall sick! I really envy Shani Dev. I am seriously thinking of changing my job and becoming some Weekly Devi!

Watching this, I am reminded of how scientist madam stops her kids from leaving the house if the feeblest of a distant sneeze manage to vibrate her sensitive ear drums. Then she makes them wash hands and feet, sit down, drink water and recite a few shlokas. I am the illiterate maid here, I am supposed to be superstitious as per my children's lessons, but I am not as much. May be she cares more for her kids' well-being. Whatever, I am no more euphoric about working at her place as I keep on getting reminded of my dreaded mother-in-law's taunting proverb, Chirag Tale Andhera!

Naam Ka Gulaam

पहला दृश्य

आस्था चैनल पर प्रसारित सनसनी-खेज़ कार्यकर्म मंथन स्वामीजी के प्राण सुखा देता है | घोर विपदा में घिरे स्वामीजी संकट-मोचन को गुहार  लगाते हैं | संकट-मोचन उन्हें समझाते हैं कि भारत परम्पराओं और संस्कारों की भूमि है | सांस्कृतिक गौरव के हित में अत्यंत अधर्म सर्वोपरि धर्म बन जाता है | उन्हें निष्कलंक भाव से मूल्यों का आह्वान करना चाहिए |

दूसरा दृश्य

"टीवी और रेडियो सेट पर मुझे देख-सुन रहे देश-वासी बहिनों, माताओं, बेटीओं एवम बंधुयों,

मैं, उस परम-पिता का तुच्छ सेवक, सदैव आप लोगों की उन्नति एवं ख़ुशी की प्रार्थना करता हूँ; आप सभी की असीम कृपा का पात्र, आप लोगों को कृतज्ञ नमन करता हूँ|

 
पत्रकार देवियों एवं सज्जनों,

मैं आप लोगों का तहे-दिल से शुक्र-गुज़ार हूँ कि पिछले हफ्ते की निकृष्ट सूचनाओं के बावज़ूद आप लोगों ने मेरे प्रेस समेल्लन के आमंत्रण को स्वीकार किया और मुझ दीन को अपने प्रिय देश-वासियों के समक्ष अपना पक्ष रखने का अवसर दिया है| आप सभी से सविनय आग्रह है कि इसके पूर्व कि मैं कुछ कहूं, आप लोग मेरे कुछ प्रशनों का उत्तर दे मुझे कृतार्थ करें| क्या आपको यह आग्रह स्वीकार्य है?"

"हाँ, हमे मंज़ूर है|"

"जी शुक्रिया! आप धन्य हैं!"

प्रo (अति विनम्र) :  हे बंधू, जी हाँ, नवजागरण से आये मेरे प्रिय बंधुवर, आपका नाम क्या है?

उo (तटस्थ) : चिराग|

प्रo: चिराग जी, आपका नामकरण किसने किया?

उo: मेरे डैडी ने|

प्रo: इस नामकरण का कोई प्रयोजन?
उo (गर्वित) : मेरे डैडी चाहते थे कि मैं पढ़-लिख कर चारों तरफ उजाला करूं|
(पत्रकार समूह खिलखिला उठता है)
प्रo (प्रसन्न) : अति उच्च विचार! चिराग जी, क्या आपने उनके स्वपन को साकार करने का कोई प्रयास किया है?
उo: जी हाँ, मैं इसी लिए जर्नलिस्ट बना!

प्रo: अतियोत्तम! क्या आप लोग सभी चिराग जी की भावनाओं से सहमती रखते हैं कि इस बदलते भारतीय परिवेश में भी माता-पिता की इच्छा सर्वोपरि एवं सम्माननीय है?
कुछ उo: हाँ|
कुछ उo (उग्र) : नहीं|

प्रo (शांत) : मान लीजिये, एक परिवार में दो पुत्र हैं,  राम और शाम|  एक ओर राम अपने परिवार की मर्यादा का पालन करता है और अपने पिता को पूज्य मानता है, दूसरी ओर शाम अपने बूढ़े पिता को घर से निकाल देता है| जिनका उत्तर पिछले प्रशन के लिए नकारात्मक था, मैं उन सज्जनों से पूछना चाहता हूँ कि आप  इन दोनों पुत्रों में से किसकी वकालत करेंगे?
उo: राम की|

प्रo: शुक्रिया, आप धन्य हैं| क्या आप मेरा नाम जानते हैं?
उo (उपहासित) :  ओब्विअसली, आप हैं आचार्य कामधेनु कल्पतरु चिरानंद संत दास!

प्रo (कृतकृत्य) : ये सम्मान तो आप लोगों की मेरे प्रति वृहत हृदय दृष्टि है, मेरे पूज्य पिताश्री ने तो मुझे मात्र चिरानंद दास की संज्ञा दी है| चिर शब्द की परिभाषा दें!
उo: कपड़े, क्लोद्स|
प्रo: आपकी परिभाषा सही है, यह आप कैसे कह सकते हैं?
उo (दम्भी ) : कल ही मैंने द्रौपदी समान आपके चीरहरण का एपिसोड अपने चैनल पर ऐंकर किया था|
(ठहाकों और तालियों की गडगडाहट से हॉल गूँज उठता है)

प्रo (प्रशांत): बालक, वस्त्र का पर्याय चीर है, चिर नहीं| क्या कोई और सज्जन चिर शब्द के अर्थ को प्रकाशित करना चाहेंगे?
उo: चिर मतलब लौंग, ऑलवेज़, जैसे चिरायु|
प्रo (प्रसन्न) : अति सुन्दर, जैसे चिरायु, चिराग इत्यादि| क्या आप दास शब्द को परिभाषित कर सकते हैं?
उo: गुलाम, सेवक!

प्रo (हर्षित) : धन्यवाद! आपके सहयोग से मैं अपने नाम की परिभाषा दे सकता हूँ| मेरे नाम का अर्थ है एक ऐसा सेवक जो सदैव आनंदित करे| मेरे प्रत्येक कार्य में यही भाव समाहित हैं| अपने नाम, पिताश्री और भक्तों का परम सेवक, मैं उनकी प्रत्येक इच्छा पूर्ण कर उन्हें आनंदित करना चाहता हूँ, चाहे किसी चिराग की भांति मुझे खुद क्यों न जलना पड़े| मुझे आप लोगों से सिर्फ यही कहना था| अब आप चाहें तो मुझे सूली पर चढ़ा दें, आपके इस तुच्छ दास को जनाधिकार सम्मत है|

तीसरा दृश्य

सभी श्रोता अत्यंत भावुक हो उठते हैं, सभी अपनी अवहेलना पर लज्जित हैं, कुछ अपने पिता की, कुछ आचार्य जी  की | सभा में उपस्थित चेले चारों दिशाओं को महान आचार्य कामधेनु कल्पतरु चिरानंद संत दास की जयजयकार  से गूंजा देते हैं  | इसी बीच कुछ दूरदर्शी  आचार्यजी की चरण धूलि के लिए अग्रसर होतें हैं |शेष अज्ञानी उनके पीछे दौड़ पड़ते हैं और भगदड़ मच जाती है | सम्पूर्ण देशवासी भावना की इस गंगा में स्नान करने लगते हैं | भगदड़ में मारे गए लोगों को आचार्य के चरणों में मोक्ष की प्राप्ति हो जाती है  | आज स्तिथि यह है कि एक ओर हर माह अनावृत होते  नए आश्रम भी आचार्य के शिष्यों के उफनते सागर को समाहित नहीं कर पाते |  दूसरी ओर दक्षिणा-पूरित आचार्य कोष  द्रौपदी के अक्षय पात्र को मात देते हुए आचार्य और उनके कुल कि मर्यादा को कायम रखता है |

The Star-Crossed Feast

They were the new joinees. Fresh out of small towns' big colleges. Put up at The Grand Opulence, a five star, at the request of their company. They had stayed up at many regular hotels and guest houses, but not at a starred place before. Twinkle was wondering, grammar is asterisked in TOI editorials these days, is the hotel name asterisked in the same sense. The twin sharing standard room was just acceptable. There was hardly any floor space left by the bed and the table and they had to tread carefully to avoid bumping into each other. The balcony ended before starting. There was an extended debate on the utility of the glass wall separating the bathroom. The conclusion was that it allowed one to enjoy the TV and the steaming bathtub simultaneously after a long tiring day.   

The only other apparent luxury was the fully loaded mini bar the room boasted of. The elegant baby fridge spread a sumptuous treat for the souls famished from the long journey. There were honey roasted almonds imported from Virginia, Evian natural mineral water sourced from the pristine French Alps and layered Ferrero Rochers clad in inviting golden wrappers apart from the regular juices, wafers and biscuits. Moreover, the imported range of hard drinks was too tempting. Both of them were too tired to go out, they didn't even know of a reasonable place to dine at. Priced at two days' salary, the Opulence dinner was unthinkable of. Twinkle attacked the mini bar at full throttle and convinced Sonnet to follow her. Unsure of the hangover duration, they spared the hard drinks that night.

The delighted ladies now started exploring the room for other hidden treasures. Twinkle found a file inside the digital safe. They wondered if it contained the clues to assist them in their other discoveries. It had a sheet inside titled 'Mini Bar Rate List' and Twinkle's jaws dropped at its sight. The exorbitant three and higher digit numbers mentioned against the savoured goodies punched her real hard in the stomach and out came everything in a highly amalgamated state. It was a classic cultural shock!

The misplaced rate card appeared to be the mischief of the earlier occupant who had similarly burned his fingers. Sonnet was upset but her brain was working fast. She suggested replacement of the mini bar contents. What a superb idea Sirji! They ransacked the dustbins for all the dumped wrappers and packets. Smoothing the crinkled wrappers, they copied the brand names, flavor, size, quantity, date of manufacture, colour, everything except the bar codes on another piece of paper. Twinkle could now empathize with a simple friend who had once mistaken the finger bowl for nimbu paani and was made butt of all jokes thereafter!

Next morning, they left for the office putting on the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on their door. It was tough to focus on the slides while they googled for malls, departmental stores, markets in the city. Twinkle feigned vertigo at noon and Sonnet immediately offered to help her back to the hotel. They gathered almost everything after a search extending over six hours except for a particular sized pack of Ferrero Rochers. 

 

Staying at starred locations has become a routine for them but the ghost of the goodies still haunts them. They do not fail to call up the room service to confirm if the complimentary water and tea/coffee sachets are indeed complimentary. Twinkle barely manages to control her impulse to scribble all over the rooms 'Beware, Nothing In Here Is For Free!'.

Oracle

'Aliya hasn't come in. It is possible that she missed the bus. It is time for the second bus now. Is she coming by it today? Why am I thinking about her? Am I missing her? Can't be sure. I am harbouring this strange feeling deep inside. She might be just down with fever. No, that can't be, she has not called up sick. Shall I check with her right away? No, no, that is unthinkable, she might not like it. What will she think about me? Shall I ask these people here? They are a bunch of hags. They will taunt me and tease her. Now that's an absolute no. They brag about being her good friends. Why can't they call her to check. No one seems to be bothered about her absence, why I am? I pray there is no connection...'

'Pranav, you are pale, it looks like you just had a daymare!'

'What an observation my wicked Manu, A day without Aliya is only fit to be a daymare!'
'Yeah Manu, you are on the mark, a working Monday morning is a real daymare!'

'Buddy, do I smell the agony of Aliya's absence on your hollow voice?'

'What a prying buffoon you are, I thought only scientists specialized in mind reading!'
'Isn't Aliya in, you must be joking! Anyways what brings the great Manu to this no-man's service?'

'The bleeding eyes of my no-man! By the way, don't fail to notice Aliya's name engraved on a tender leaf of the office grapevine? Have an exciting day ahead! Ciao!'

'You bloody tormentor, may you rot in hell forever for your evasive gimmicks! '
'I will need to borrow the set of your super sensitive antennae for that!'

'Your gory remarks and gruesome silence gust off the last wafts of my sanity! Why do you shut up when you should be talking and vice versa?'

'What could Manu imply...Goodness, is Aliya getting engaged? That does not sound even remotely related...she would have at least announced it...I hope she is doing fine. She has not come in by the second bus also. She is a good enough candidate for my mom and I think I am equally good for her family. Why am I thinking on these lines out of the blue today, what's wrong with me? Someone, please have pity on my tormented soul.'

'Here comes the shrewd Anjan, finally my prayers have been answered!'

'Welcome Anjan, how are you doing?'

'Not so bad Pranav! It seems you were waiting for me!'

'Are my thoughts flashing in bold letters on my forehead today?'
'No Ways, I mean you are always welcome, what's up?'

'Today no one is working except for you, isn't that so unlike the other days?'

'See who is saying what!'
'Come on, stop excruciating me. I implore upon you for some fresh berries from the grapevine!'

'Are you drunk on William Wordsworth today? You are aware that I have always been poetically challenged!'

'Anjan, no wonders that you are called the meanest shark in the bureau ocean! But I won't be lily-livered and ask you directly.'
'All right, why has Aliya not come in today?'

'Ah, I must say, she should come in less often so that my folks get an opportunity to focus more on their assignments!'

'Go off before I kill you!'

'Take it easy Pranav or you will die of a hemorrhage, I was kidding! Byeos'

'He is also going back after rubbing salt on my burning nerves.'

'Hey Pranav, looks like you have been stabbed, I had some news for you.'

'What a fateful day, I will have to endure the stalker today!'
'Hello Maya, Monday morning blues. I am all ears!'

'Are you aware of what transpired to Aliya?'

'No.'

'That's why you are idling out here. There seems to be some problem at her home.'

'Please, carry on... Please.'

'All right, I will detail you on the events, but any guesses?'

'#$&*@!^%'
'Her mom's hubby ran off with all the money?'

'When will you stop lying to me Pranav dear, you already know everything.'

'Maya, I beg you to spare me the suspense, I swear I am absolutely clueless of any and every thing about Aliya. That was just an irritated response!'

'Oh my poor baby, you guessed it just right. It's sad, but it's the truth.'

'That's terrible! I had not expected the prophetic vision to come true like this. This has happened to me once again. I can't trust myself. The boundary between facts and fantasies is dissolving. I have to struggle to ward off my silly thoughts. Well, there is no explanation, no theorem to define these coincidences. I can't bear the weight of vision. I can't afford to lose the power of vision. A metamorphosis is taking place...'

'Manu, help! The shocking revelation about Aliya's has collapsed Pranav into a delirium. Someone please call for the ambulance!'

'Maya, Manu, Congratulations! I see the pot bellied solemnizing your wedding!'

'Manu, please do something to save our Pranav, please do something...'

Memoirs Of A Family

Pa (panting) : Be hot on the heels of the porter jostling his way around the swelling crowds of the Chennai Central and hopefully we will make it to our coach in time.

Ma (relieved) : Thank God, we have managed to land onto our berths in this nondescript coach of the TN Express. I will now secure the bags with that chain and the lock.

Pa (taking a look around) : We are bound for Delhi, how about you?

Gentleman (smiling) : Ditto!

Pa (excited) : I am happy to learn that we are to share this compartment with your family. Arey bitiya rani, you look very sweet, what's your good name?

The sweet little girl smiles and hides behind her mother's translucent dupatta.

Lady (patronizing) : Beta, Uncle wants to know your sweet name, don't be shy!

The little girl jumps onto her mother's lap and keeps smiling.

Lady : Her name is Mrinal. You will be introduced to her true self within five minutes.

I : Mrinal, beautifully delicate name, suits her completely. Mrinal, (offering a handshake), friends?

Mrinal (Returning the handshake timidly) : Yes didi, we will be friends, but on one condition; I will be your only best friend, agreed? 

I (happily) : Yes, yes, yes, Mrinal! You are my only best friend. Thank you sweetie! How old are you, are you in school already?

Mrinal (jumping with joy on my lap) : Am three old. My school is LKG.

Lady (smiling) : Now she will be your headache till Delhi, I am sure she won't come over to her parents now. 

I (grinning) : I will be grateful for her company till Delhi. And I will miss her after that! Are you returning from a trip to Chennai or going on a trip to Delhi?

Lady (a little upset) : Yeah, it was a medical trip to Chennai.

I (with a start, gulping) : Oh, were you on a visit to Shankar Nethryalaya?

Lady : Yes.

Pa (perturbed) : Even we were on a visit to Shankar Nethryalaya!

Tentacles of the saga of pain and suffering, hope and wait, weave an instant web of camaraderie between the two families.

Pa (grimly) : I had almost lost the vision in an eye to steroid overdose at the hands of a negligent doctor in a distant town. May we hear your tragedy?

Gentleman (smiling) : It is long tale of fate, you might be bored to hear.
Pa (hurt) : No Sir, please don't think so, I see you as a brother in agony.
Gentleman (nostalgic) : I was a CA meticulously auditing the dirty accounts of the jazzy firms in Delhi. Mrinal had just completed her six months. We three were a contented family. Then one day I was admitted to a nursing home with a stomach infection. I recovered in a couple of days and was discharged. A week after, itchy rashes started appearing on my skin covering me from head to toe in a matter of a few hours and I was left blinded and gasping for breath. It was discovered I was allergic to the antibiotics administered for the stomach infection. I was recuperating  in an ICU for a fortnight. I was told that every inch of my skin will heel back to normal except for the cornea and retina of the eyes. Specialists at AIIMS advised me to pray and learn Braille. My wife broke down. As soon as I was declared out of danger, she composed herself and took me to the consecrated thresholds of the Shankar Nethralaya.
         After a treatment for five months, on Mrinal's first birthday, doctors declared that there was hope for me and after a couple of surgeries I would be able to see Mrinal's cherubic face by her second birthday.

I used to think that ours was the most tragic tale, but his words made me realize that it is easy to find someone who is in a worse situation. I was grateful for being better fated than this family.

Pa (in a teary voice) : How is your vision now, Sir?
Gentleman (happily) : I can walk inside my house and complete routine activities without any help now. I am happy I don't need to use my walking stick anymore.

I clearly notice that his voice does not ask for sympathy, does not sound complaining, instead it sounds inspiring. The train is crossing vast green wavy paddy fields.  Mrinal is excited at the surreal sight.

Mrinal (clapping and dancing) :  Oh these green waves look so similar to the blue waves at the Marina beach! We are sailing through a green sea, it is rising, it is falling, Mrinal is enjoying. (After some time) Didi, the sea is vast, let's play something. Let's play Mummy and Baby. Who will be the mummy, you want to be the mummy or the baby?
I (thoroughly pleased) : I don't know how to play mummy, Shall I be the baby?
Mrinal (nodding) : Yes, that will be good. I am a very good mummy. I will call you my Babu. Ok Babu, go to sleep now. Mummy will wake you up in the morning.

Mrinal wakes up her Babu, brushes her teeth, bathes her, dresses her, serves her breakfast and then drops her to school. In the meanwhile she goes out for shopping and buys a new frock. Then she picks up her Babu from school, gifts her the new frock, helps her with homework, prepares dinner for her and again puts her to sleep with a very very sweet cradlesong, 'tujhme rab dikhta hai, babu mai kya karoon, sajde sir jhukta hai, babu mai karoon'.

I (talking to myself) : I am delighted at the innocent pampering. I am looking forward to being woken up by Mrinal again after five minutes.
Pa (concerned) : Sir, how are your finances being taken care of these days, I mean is your company helping you?
Gentleman (determined) : Two and half years is too a long time for any company to support. We have started an opticals business which my wife runs and I assist. God is graceful, business is good.

The train stops at Nagpur and I get down to buy ice cream.

Mrinal (innocently) : Babu, get chocolate flavor for your small mummy!
I return with two ice creams and give Mrinal hers.
Gentleman (disapprovingly) :  Mrinal, Babu ki pocket pe chunna laga diya na!
Mrinal (lovingly) : Oh where?

And she dusts the imaginary lime powder off my trousers' pockets with her small pink hands. I can't help hugging her for her innocence.

Pa (admiring) : Sir, Mrinal is a cheerful girl and kudos to you both for not letting the tragedy affect her childhood. I can see that she is being brought up in the best manner a child should be. She could not have played a doting mother to a girl twenty years older than her otherwise.
Gentleman (agreeing) : In fact, we get to spend a lot more time together now. It was a mad rush earlier. I would have missed on her growing years if I were a CA still.

I am delightfully amazed by his fighter spirit. I also notice that unless asked for, he does not talk about his illness. He does talk a lot, he talks on politics, weather, cricket, people, like everyone else. Delhi door nahi hai and we are preparing to get down and go on our separate ways.

Mrinal (waving off) : We are going to Bhagalpur next Friday for my aunt's wedding. Babu, we would meet in the train again next week!

All of us burst into a hearty laugh at her innocent comment.

To Sir, With Love

"Today is the judgement day. The class is unusually silent except for the low hum of the anxious bated breaths. Ms Isha's repeated attempts to make us talk fail like her daily efforts to quieten us. Instead of paper rockets, confused glances are being thrown across. The hour long taciturn suspense being maintained by Ms Isha when the all we are doing is to stare helplessly at her face full of dumbfounded expressions in the backdrop of the blackboard would become an inspiration for the sweet at sixteen Ekta Kapoor's future leading ladies' actions on the idiot box. The spell is eventually broken by the resonance of over fifty bewildered heartbeats threatening to blow up the classroom walls. All but three convicts are handed out their lurid verdicts one by one. 'The three significant verdicts are to be pronounced by Ranjan Sir', conveys Ms Isha.

Ranjan Sir, but why? Ranjan Sir is a busy man, he is the senior most teacher in the school. I think he is a good teacher. His class was lively and fun, he explained through examples, he made us solve problems on the blackboard and never scolded or spanked when we could not. But still, he always wore a grave expression and never smiled and he hardly taught. On most days he had been preoccupied to schedule teachers to engage classes of the absent teachers. I think that made him forget that of all the classes, his own dear class, the fifth standard Maths class, was left unengaged! But did we complain? Of course not! A happy period between the tedious social and dull science periods was a boon straight from the heavens! Yet he had covered eighteen chapters out of the twenty five chapters, a few more than few other teachers who had not missed saying lullabies to us for a single day.

Some of the class who have been pleasantly surprised by the verdicts are getting restless waiting for Ranjan Sir. After all, how long can they wait for their promised gifts of chocolates, new clothes, new toys, etc. Some of the class is praying for him not to turn up for the whole day. The delay is helping to shorten the day and the repercussions of their verdicts back at home. The three of us, though well aware of our verdicts, have stomachs brimming with butterflies at the moment. Finally, after yet another hour's wait, Sir materializes in our classroom and hands out the remaining verdicts. When the roar of claps subsides, Sir begins to address us.

'Congratulations to the fifth class! This year's board included teachers from fifteen schools and the difficulty level was high. This is a great achievement for our school that the entire fifth standard made it to the next with good marks. The Maths paper was the toughest with the best questions from fifteen schools. For the first time in my teaching career, I have seen someone score triple digit marks in this paper. And she is Sandhya! Come over Sandhya, I have got a small gift for you.'

Sir is beaming as he hands me out the envelope with a crisp hundred rupee bill and a hand written congratulatory note inside. I can't believe it. I am super thrilled. I am happy. I am choking. I am all goose bumps. Somehow I manage to utter a feeble thank you."

It has been almost two decades but the happiest moment of my life is still fresh in front of my eyes. I can never forget the smile on Sir's face and the pride in his eyes for his student. I still think twice before gifting one hundred bucks to my near and dear ones. What a noble gesture it was two decades back to reward a student so generously. The noble gift has been a noble impact for me. It has instilled a forever love for Maths in me. It has taught me the profound potential of a genuine reward. It has been my motivator all these years and continue to do so. Yet like that day many many years ago, I am again at loss of words to thank you Ranjan Sir!