Wednesday 24 December 2014

Santa Comes Home!!


SANTA COMES HOME!!
25th December, 2014; The town of Cochin is busy in celebrating the Christmas with all the vim and vigor. Jingle bells can be heard from the neighborhood and the air everywhere around carries a scent of delicious cakes and meat. But almost secluded from all this fervor is this small house by the church where many missionary sisters clad in their white attire are standing by the bed of an old lady. By the somber looks and tears on the faces of them it appears quite naturally that the old lady is in grievous pain, as if almost breathing her last. She has a wrinkled old face and a small little smile perched on her lips even as her tired eyes are scanning the doorway as though waiting for a Santa Claus to arrive.
25th December, 1996; It was a cold, chilly Christmas evening in London. An Indian family of a mother, a father and their 2 year old toddler were travelling the city in their car, soaking in the pleasures of a festival for the first time on a foreign soil. The Menon family had arrived a month back in London thanks to a wonderful job at Central Engineering which came knocking Mr.Menon’s way almost serendipitously. 2 months back he had found the advertisement for the offer in Times Of India for which he had applied and had immediately got the call from the employers. It was a big dilemma for Mr. Menon whether to accept the job offer or not since he had his mother alone at home. His dad had just died last year of a cardiac arrest. But then after a lot of contemplation and deliberation he came to a decision that he would accept the job offer and settle in London with his family. He would then make efforts so that he could also get his mother to London. The Menons arrived in London one month back. They were staying with Mr. and Mrs. Patterson in a duplex as paying guests.
As their car was approaching the nearby garden, Mr. Menon realized that the car was going off balance which sent a shiver down his spine. The tyre had probably busted. Mr.Menon quickly pulled on the brakes but the car had already started meandering and was fast losing control. And DASH! It collided on to the tree.
Five minutes later the ambulance arrived. The doctor was quick to find that both the persons, a man and a lady were dead already. He then heared a baby crying from the back seat and was astonished to see a baby alive in a small cradle on the back seat. Through the car details he managed to find that the owner was Mr.Patterson. The policeman called Mr. Patterson at the sight to inquire about the identities of the persons driving his car. He also handed him the baby boy..

25th December,2014, Cochin; And the wait of her eyes seems over. A young man walks out of a car and is about to enter in. He has his student identity card tied to his neck which reads, ‘ALEX PATTERSON, STUDENT at OXFORD UNIVERSITY’.. ‘’He has come!” exclaims the old lady which is followed by a bout of heavy coughing by which time the boy is already near her bed. The boy looks confused at such a sudden exclamation. All the curious eyes of the missionary sisters are staring at him as the old lady grabs his hand and kisses him gently. Alex finds many eyes welling up and is taken aback at this emotional setting.
“Oh! Alex, I couldn’t die without kissing you! Come, hug your grandma!” the lady says with a new found enthusiasm.
Alex appears dumbfounded by this lady who calls herself his grandma. Alex’s mother, Mrs. Patterson had told him that there was a very old friend of hers, a Christian missionary staying in India by the name Sarah Menon whom Alex identifies as a ‘Santa Claus aunty’ for she sends Alex a small replica of Santa Claus every Christmas!! Alex had never met her and he had never been to India so he was very excited about this and had readily agreed to visit his mother’s old friend in India. Mrs. Patterson had also sent a letter with him which she had told him to hand only to Sarah.
“Don’t be surprised my child. Open the letter your mother has sent with you and read it!”
Alex does as he is told.
The letter read,
Dear Alex,
It’s a long kept secret but we believe the time has come when we need to inform you something. I don’t know if Sarah has revealed the entire story but yes, she is right. She is your grandmother. We adopted you when you were just 2 and had lost your mom and dad, Mr. and Mrs. Menon in a fatal car accident. We didn’t have a kid and you were too small to realize that you had lost your parents. You and us, we, both were missing something and so when the opportunity presented itself, I suggested to your grandmother if we could adopt you as our son and she agreed because if you had come to India there would be no one to look after you. In your best interests, Sarah,with a heavy heart agreed to our proposal and decided that you would stay in London with us. Sarah didn’t want to reveal this to you because it would have affected you adversely in your formative years. It was only because she was ill we mutually decided to break this news to you. In a way she has made a sacrifice no grandmother could have ever done. Hug her tight and be proud of her.
Hope you will forgive us for being selfish. But I hope we made good parents.
Come back soon..
With Love,
Mom.
Tears rolled down Alex’s cheek as he folded the letter and tried to keep it back in the enevelope. As he turned the page he found another letter addressed to Sarah. It was written-
Dear Sarah,
Returning you your Santa. Hope we could fulfill the promise.Merry Christmas.
Your friend,
Mrs. Patterson

By the time Alex has read the whole letter, a small replica of Santa Claus is in front of his eyes which his grandma has pulled out from under her pillow. Alex hugs her tightly and weeps...


Wednesday 17 December 2014

A DARK winter day..

It was just another usual day. We woke up at 5.30 to the calls of  ''Allah U Akbar!'' from the neighbouring mosque. My husband , Rashid, who works in the army , had to go early for his winter session of military drills. So I wanted to make no delay in preparing his breakfast of omlet and bread for he would get a harangue from his senior if he got late to training.
At 6.30 I bade him goodbye shouting ''KhudaHafeez!''
As I came out to my balcony to see him go, I saw Salma who was up on her terrace to dry her clothes. It was yet only 6.30 and even the sun was not out so I was surprised to see her on terrace so early and inquisitive as I am, I called her out shouting, ''Salma, why are drying your clothes so early!?''
She told me with a bit of sadness that her son, Salman was ill and she had to take him to the doctor as early as possible. She had always prided on her son's school attendance record. Last year she had served the entire society with sweets after her son had received 100% attendance record in his class 4. I was so envious of her that day that I had almost decided to make sure that Rahim would also get a similar certificate this time. Just then i remembered I had forgotten to wake Rahim up. It was getting late and the school bus would be there in a matter of just an hour. ''Rahim, wake up my boy!', I shouted from the balcony and ran towarde his room only to see him rolled up in his blanket in a deep slumber even as a ray of sunshine which had just emerged from the distant horizon was kissing his beautiful rosy cheeks. He was the apple of my eye and I would've loved to let him sleep some more and behold the sight. But I had to wake him up. He just had to get that 100% attendance certificate. So I shook him a little and then a bit violently until he was wide awake. He was an obedient boy, unlike many others in the society , who hated going to school. He got up, rubbed his eyes as I gave him a long, lingering kiss on his rosy cheeks. His 10th birthday was just 2 days away and me and my husband had bought  him a new bicycle. But my husband had wanted to keep it as a surprise and so he had kept the bicycle in our garage,  away from Rahim's curious eyes. So for the next 2 days at least he would have to use the services of his schoolbus to commute. I was so desperately waiting to see Rahim race down the street on his bicycle that I made sure to keep my husband reminded about it every day. I served Rahim his breakfast, and got his schoolbag ready.
Like our routine , I asked Rahim to say his prayers before leaving. Prayer, its a small word,  spoken in a 1000 different languages and yet it's meant for the same thing all around the world. It's just that we consider it a religious activity, which, it is not.. It's just a spiritual,  humanistic ritual asking the almighty to keep everyone hale and hearty..
By the time Rahim completed his prayers, the bus was already waiting for him and he quickly rushed down the street as I waved him goodbye from our balcony only to see him disappearing fast from my sight..
Today is his birthday.
But the bicycle still sits there in the garage, waiting for someone to ride it.. I wish I had not been so obsessed about the 100% attendance certificate and had just let him sleep that day. He would've been still awake.

Reshma,
18th December,
Peshawar.

A DARK winter day..

It was just another usual day. We woke up at 5.30 to the calls of  ''Allah U Akbar!'' from the neighbouring mosque. My husband , Rashid, who works in the army , had to go early for his winter session of military drills. So I wanted to make no delay in preparing his breakfast of omlet and bread for he would get a harangue from his senior if he got late to training.
At 6.30 I bade him goodbye shouting ''KhudaHafeez!''
As I came out to my balcony to see him go, I saw Salma who was up on her terrace to dry her clothes. It was yet only 6.30 and even the sun was not out so I was surprised to see her on terrace so early and inquisitive as I am, I called her out shouting, ''Salma, why are drying your clothes so early!?''
She told me with a bit of sadness that her son, Salman was ill and she had to take him to the doctor as early as possible. She had always prided on her son's school attendance record. Last year she had served the entire society with sweets after her son had received 100% attendance record in his class 4. I was so envious of her that day that I had almost decided to make sure that Rahim would also get a similar certificate this time. Just then i remembered I had forgotten to wake Rahim up. It was getting late and the school bus would be there in a matter of just an hour. ''Rahim, wake up my boy!', I shouted from the balcony and ran towarde his room only to see him rolled up in his blanket in a deep slumber even as a ray of sunshine which had just emerged from the distant horizon was kissing his beautiful rosy cheeks. He was the apple of my eye and I would've loved to let him sleep some more and behold the sight. But I had to wake him up. He just had to get that 100% attendance certificate. So I shook him a little and then a bit violently until he was wide awake. He was an obedient boy, unlike many others in the society , who hated going to school. He got up, rubbed his eyes as I gave him a long, lingering kiss on his rosy cheeks. His 10th birthday was just 2 days away and me and my husband had bought  him a new bicycle. But my husband had wanted to keep it as a surprise and so he had kept the bicycle in our garage,  away from Rahim's curious eyes. So for the next 2 days at least he would have to use the services of his schoolbus to commute. I was so desperately waiting to see Rahim race down the street on his bicycle that I made sure to keep my husband reminded about it every day. I served Rahim his breakfast, and got his schoolbag ready.
Like our routine , I asked Rahim to say his prayers before leaving. Prayer, its a small word,  spoken in a 1000 different languages and yet it's meant for the same thing all around the world. It's just that we consider it a religious activity, which, it is not.. It's just a spiritual,  humanistic ritual asking the almighty to keep everyone hale and hearty..
By the time Rahim completed his prayers, the bus was already waiting for him and he quickly rushed down the street as I waved him goodbye from our balcony only to see him disappearing fast from my sight..
Today is his birthday.
But the bicycle still sits there in the garage, waiting for someone to ride it.. I wish I had not been so obsessed about the 100% attendance certificate and had just let him sleep that day. He would've been still awake.
Reshma,
18th December,
Peshawar.

A DARK winter day..

It was just another usual day. We woke up at 5.30 to the calls of  ''Allah U Akbar!'' from the neighbouring mosque. My husband , Rashid, who works in the army , had to go early for his winter session of military drills. So I wanted to make no delay in preparing his breakfast of omlet and bread for he would get a harangue from his senior if he got late to training.
At 6.30 I bade him goodbye shouting ''KhudaHafeez!''
As I came out to my balcony to see him go, I saw Salma who was up on her terrace to dry her clothes. It was yet only 6.30 and even the sun was not out so I was surprised to see her on terrace so early and inquisitive as I am, I called her out shouting, ''Salma, why are drying your clothes so early!?''
She told me with a bit of sadness that her son, Salman was ill and she had to take him to the doctor as early as possible. She had always prided on her son's school attendance record. Last year she had served the entire society with sweets after her son had received 100% attendance record in his class 4. I was so envious of her that day that I had almost decided to make sure that Rahim would also get a similar certificate this time. Just then i remembered I had forgotten to wake Rahim up. It was getting late and the school bus would be there in a matter of just an hour. ''Rahim, wake up my boy!', I shouted from the balcony and ran towarde his room only to see him rolled up in his blanket in a deep slumber even as a ray of sunshine which had just emerged from the distant horizon was kissing his beautiful rosy cheeks. He was the apple of my eye and I would've loved to let him sleep some more and behold the sight. But I had to wake him up. He just had to get that 100% attendance certificate. So I shook him a little and then a bit violently until he was wide awake. He was an obedient boy, unlike many others in the society , who hated going to school. He got up, rubbed his eyes as I gave him a long, lingering kiss on his rosy cheeks. His 10th birthday was just 2 days away and me and my husband had bought  him a new bicycle. But my husband had wanted to keep it as a surprise and so he had kept the bicycle in our garage,  away from Rahim's curious eyes. So for the next 2 days at least he would have to use the services of his schoolbus to commute. I was so desperately waiting to see Rahim race down the street on his bicycle that I made sure to keep my husband reminded about it every day. I served Rahim his breakfast, and got his schoolbag ready.
Like our routine , I asked Rahim to say his prayers before leaving. Prayer, its a small word,  spoken in a 1000 different languages and yet it's meant for the same thing all around the world. It's just that we consider it a religious activity, which, it is not.. It's just a spiritual,  humanistic ritual asking the almighty to keep everyone hale and hearty..
By the time Rahim completed his prayers, the bus was already waiting for him and he quickly rushed down the street as I waved him goodbye from our balcony only to see him disappearing fast from my sight..
Today is his birthday.
But the bicycle still sits there in the garage, waiting for someone to ride it.. I wish I had not been so obsessed about the 100% attendance certificate and had just let him sleep that day. He would've been still awake.

Reshma,
18th December,
Peshawar.

Saturday 6 December 2014

YUVI- The forgotton Hero!?



YUVI- THE FORGOTTEN HERO!?


In the by lanes of Chandigadh,
A story unlike any other was being written.
Emerged a southpaw out there to mesmerize the viewer
Diving like a tiger to the ball that wasn’t even near
At Lords’ when the victory wasn’t even in sight,
He produced a miracle with an unmatched might!

At Durban, he was a BATman on a mission to kill
With a gorgeous swooping motion, he decided to thrill
And as he decided to bend his back knee
The fans knew it was a 6 to all their glee..
For me, an Indian smacking an Englishman was pure vengeance,
For opponents, he was always the disturbance!!
A character on field and a dude off it,
Advertising world had found a new style icon!

But then the form dipped
Injuries took a toll
Controversies and attitude was questioned
And brought forth a YUVI we hadn’t known!
From a star he was now considered a liability
But nothing could take away his ability!!

Came the hour and came the man..
When it mattered, he mattered the most!!
At Motera against the Aussies, he batted for his life!
At Mohali when his bat was mute
His bowling played a captivating flute
To lull the Pakistanis out!
At Wankhede, he brought us tears!
As the nation of a billion rose up for Cheers!!

Little did we know then that his body was a home to a tumor?
Oh yes, he eventually did recover!!
For he was a warrior wanting to fight!!
But the magic was missing
Against Sri Lanka in the T20 worldcup finals he was made the villain
And a Champion was forgotten!!
And as the 'HELICOPTORS' of politics started to hover,
He too knew it quite well that his chances for selection were fewer
And yes, they dropped him from the team,
But couldn’t from our memories which we shall cherish as a sweet dream..
Lion shouldn’t die a silent death
So don’t be surprised if he decides to roar his way back!!  

Featured post

A DARK winter day..

It was just another usual day. We woke up at 5.30 to the calls of  ''Allah U Akbar!'' from the neighbouring mosque. My hus...