Living & Leaving - 2

As per the Adi-Shankaracharya three things are very scarce, very rare to get. Those are the birth as human being, desire to liberate & satsang i.e. virtuous company.
Everybody is born as a human animal, manushya-pashu to relieve & release from the clutches of being animal is very difficult rather rare. Since everybody is engaged in fulfillment of the instincts in one way or the other. These instincts are food, sleep, sex which is common to any animal as well. Baring the quality what is difference is, then, between human animal & other animals? Thus graduating from human being from the human animal is no less than the birth itself!
The soul is eternal whilst body just acts as its vehicle. Just the thought even, to get liberated does not arise in the mind. Since everybody is so engrossed in ones’ tangible life that, rest all seems futile & looks nonsense. As one gets so dependent on his own intellect that, for him everything else seems irrelevant. So, mere thought of liberation does not arise in the mind.
Being in the virtuous company i.e. satsang is not so different too! If one says something out of compassion in the world full of selfishness it would be taken otherwise. Scriptures are not written to be kept in the cupboard. They need to be read, thought over, assimilated & get their gist in practice as per ones’ capacity.
The only difference in animal & human being, as per our Guru, is that a human being can elevate himself from his level, animal cannot. But, to progress to the level of thinking is also difficult. Saint Dnyneshwar too emphasized on the fact saying getting into the fold of divinity is the result of virtuous acts of births after birth.
One needs to start somewhere. Since the fruits are going to be eternal & everlasting. Tragedy is one cannot compel others to get into this neither get the taste of this. One has to come forward & adapt to the world of divinity.
September 2, 2009
Vijay Yelmelwar

Living & Leaving - I

Living seems aimless as well as leaving.
The only aim remains, if eyes opened wide & seen, is accumulation. Accumulation of wealth, power, fame & ironically even fats, cholesterol & like. Think of ever mounting mental pressure which body can barely copes up with. Travelling in air-conditioned luxury car just cannot provide the comfort it meant for. The fellow is perspiring just by the thought of what is ready for him on reaching office. Sleeping on the cozy bed gives sleepless nights. Booze & fags has become second nature. Whole day & night the thought of accumulation & fear of loss mounts like ever increasing debris. No one seems satisfied.
Today’s CEOs’, COOs’, CMDs’ & the whole lot of race has become so lusty that they just want even more, the better than the best. Their want to accumulate is on & on & on. They throw pieces of benefits, dividends onto the employees & get work done to the extent of squeezing them till last drop of blood. When any normal person employed to run his household gets trapped into the vicious circle & looses on both the front. Poor man cannot keep pace with the ever increasing demands from the office he works for. Also, gets far & far from his own family by virtue of not being able to give time & love they deserve.
In totality one can enjoy his life till he holds healthy body & sound mind. Rest is nonsense!
Ever given a thought, not a single creature crawling, swimming, flying or walking accumulates even a bit of his requirement? It’s only mankind does so. Money must insulate one from the external miseries & not act as misery by itself.
If one gives a minute an hour i.e. twenty four minutes a day, every day on, what am I doing? Why am I doing so? Where am I heading? What’s my aim of life? Everybody’s life will be guided missile & not backfired one.
September 1, 2009
Vijay Yelmelwar

FLIGHT

‘…we deeply regret the inconvenience caused to you’. The perfect westernized accent would have put even Her Majesty Queen Elisabeth II to shame, so immaculately she addressed the whole crowd upon delay in flight from fifteen fifty hours to sixteen thirty five hours. And immediately my sharp & ever ready to grasp ears heard a number of sighs of sadness, apathy & helplessness from around each of the quarter at the Hyderabad airport. Actually it was the sighs that sent message to my brain from my otherwise ready to listen ears. Yet, was beyond my brains to grasp the announcement in so alien accent in its maiden announcement, I had to listen it in other languages too including Telugu. Had it been railway station passengers would have emptied their filled cavity of mouth with saliva mixed paan or gutkha in cleanest possible place in the filthiest area in the world called railway station as a mark of their protest. But fortunately all those gutkha, paan, saliva & slang remained within the vicinity of mouth cavity.

Wearing careless look at the airport is the sure shot gesture to puts you in the upper echelon as frequent flier & thus the rich one who can afford flights & has enough work to justify so. With neatly tucked shirt in the neatly pressed trousers with polished shoes I was perhaps the only person looking shabby around. ‘Pull the shirt out’, wife noticed all those stares around gazing her dearest, ‘don’t look so formal, be at ease’. Lastly unable to cope the stares, I visited the ‘Men’s’, pulled out shirt a bit from a side, rubbed trousers on my right thigh to wear worn look, put my own foot onto the shoe to soil it, ruffled hairs a bit. ‘Now?’ seeking her approval, her satisfied look soothed me. Now I was looking frequent flier!

We waited, having known ‘patience causes little pains’, I reached my wife if she needs anything to bite. ‘It must be damn costly!!’ she exclaimed with curved eyebrows. It was indeed damn costly. The COP (cost of production, in our parlance) of samosa can never be more than two rupees; I bought it for rupees thirty only with printed bill from the electric cash register with ‘NA’ printed in front of VAT column. Lukewarm red tea apparently without milk & sugarless can not be sold even at the railway platform out of fear of beaten up badly at the hands of public, was ready to be tasted for again rupees thirty only. I took a glimpse of it before passing onto my tea craving wife. Her explicit facial expression spoke tons immediately the moment her taste buds had dialogue with all those tea molecules.

Experiencing the typical attitude of, so what if you are flying? All those dry, suspicious & ruthless stairs from the CISF (Central Industrial Security Force). And more than loving as if the whole passengers have arrived for her marriage & she is welcoming them with open heart expressions from all those ground force girls’. Or having come to fly is like doing greatest favor of her life. The only question was harassing me as if thorn has struck deep into my heels & can not be removed easily as, how far a person can wear such a welcoming & happy look? Experiencing such a contrasting expression under one roof is really a great achievement; I sincerely bow to all those frequent fliers from the bottom of my hip bone.

Being not able to handle so loving & caring expressions from so cute & made up faces I preferred to look outside the small window of aircraft during rest of the flight. ‘Look at her skirt how high it is, see her heels. Gosh, what a make up? See …’ wife’s’ monologue looking at the breezing by air hostesses sent me through the laps of sleep unknowing. My condition was rather precarious, having own wife seated by side neither I can train my eyes on those plastic plastered beautiful faces nor being able to accept that loving & caring look all the time with mutually colliding eye sights.

Food served in air has different taste. Having visited seven stars to minus seven start hotels I never tasted such a food be it whatever. Perhaps high altitude causes some abnormal chemical reaction in the food making it so obnoxious to consume. Now you can not leave it or deny it since it is served with so much care & love with neatly manicured hands & smile flashing through so nicely painted lips. You can not consume it too, considering your failing capacity of stomach; which is not used to so airy foods.

‘Look at that’ this time wife prodded her nailed finger into my stomach making me answer her at last, considering she was again up to some hairdo this time. ‘What?’ I tried to be as calm as one could be in the temple demanding god just everything on the earth. Otherwise too I try to hold my calm as if I’m in the temple not yielding to the Brahmin with his back permanently towards the idol of god. ‘That, outside the slum’ she pointed out her index finger out. Yes, it is time to fasten the seatbelt, the Dharavi slum spread miles across separating the plush airport with just barbwire fencing is the view signaling my hands to come in action & fasten the seatbelts, before ears hear announcement.

By

Vijay Yelmelwar

RETIREMENT PLANS

‘There is more fun in working than in sitting idle at home’ my newly enlightened friend in his newly entered sweet sixties spoke his mind with puffing off his cigar. Otherwise he’d plans rather he’d chewed my hundreds of hours in discussing his plans after his retirement. His topmost plan was to sit in the recliner eat healthy he actually meant edibles he thinks healthy whilst his doctor has other opinion about, drink dry martinis, smoke cigar, watch TV & discuss share market. I were sick of his plans, ‘talk anything but your retirement plans’ I once shut his about to open mouth; after all there is limit to everything.

His dream plan on resting in recliner with a cigar in the fingers has eased out it seemed. ‘How about start working again?’ I was more than anxious to listen him, as he has built up pile of money from his initial days of staying days together empty stomach. He’s always occupied upper echelon in my mind on ‘how to achieve something in life’. ‘No way, enough of that money earning, let’s do something different’ I again clutched his wandering mind. He was really not sure on what to do? Tickling wall clock was ruining his peace of mind earlier too he had same problem with the wall clock but now conversely the bloody time is not moving ahead.

‘Why don’t you guys buy a binocular & see the distant objects instead?’ his wife ridiculed on us both looking at us plunged in serious thought on what to do, how to pass time. Actually we both since our childhood never pursue any hobby which might kill our empty time now. Childhood flew away without trace, adolescence & teens got buried under school & college assignments, studies, results & grades well, we did out bit in those troubled days by catching hold of best & beautiful girls in our college making them our partners forever. Badly entangled in the daily chorus of work we just never realized as when hair got grayed & retirement date reached without inkling.

‘Why not try that too?’ he quipped with winking eye. ‘What do you do with the binocular, search for another star or what?’ I amazed looking at his thick glasses. ‘She fooled us, perhaps she wanted us to move to terrace so that she can get her friends & continue with kitty parties without our disturbance, got me?’ I tried to speak what was their in his wife’s’ mind after all I know her since our boyhood. ‘Whatever let us try this too’. He spoke with rare determination. I found such determination, spilling out of his otherwise clear but not red due to alcoholic effect, only when he has something else in his mind. He bought guitar not to learn but to follow his girl studiously learning violin then. Joined mess other than college canteen only to enjoy weekly feast of non-veg, a revelry then. Religiously bring grocery & vegetable to home when we all play at ground, not to be mothers’ obedient son but to swindle money.

I meekly followed him to buy binocular of good quality. Commissioned it on the terrace the same evening. Equipped with his dry martini, my scotch, ice cubes, his cigar, my pipe, roasted cashews etc. we settled onto the terrace with a good luck wish from our wives. They had rare satisfaction of fooling us in their still beautiful deep eyes, which I’m used to; as at least once a week I get such gesture from her. And it is close to thirty three years of togetherness I’m yet to gauge the loss to me but get an idea that I’m duped by her. It was she only who let our daughter dearest marry her Canadian husband diplomatically fooling her resisting old fashioned husband, that is me.

‘Let’s train our glasses onto moon first till we get accustomed to other heavenly objects’ sipping scotch on the rocks I was excited to see the creators & valleys & perhaps that great foot-print of human being on moon soil. ‘You fool, can’t you see moon with your necked eyes. I didn’t spend eleven thousand thirty four bucks to see moon which we otherwise see daily’ he chuckled with devilish smile. ‘See there through that window…’ I saw & froze with a glass of liquor where in the floating ice cube was melting.

‘Look, age doesn’t matter. If doing so in our teen was a fun & fetched our beautiful wives, what is the problem now?’ he was trying to convince me wiping dew on his glasses with his night suit. ‘Let the bodies’ age, mind is still fresh. At least mine is, how about yours?’ I shook my head in affirmation without my notice. ‘That’s’ it’ his slap on my back was rather bone breaking yet his sock to my head was much surprising & shocking.

‘We are on the terrace, to see the heavenly bodies’ with a particular stress on bodies we found a rare & confidential hobby to pursue. God is great!!!

By

Vijay Yelmelwar

ON PAPER

‘Talk anything but on paper’ I was literally out of my mind talking to one of my closest friends who came to meet me after some seven years of gap. And the fellow was chattering non stop on his pet subject paper, paper making, constituents of paper, paper technology, gsm, porosity, fiber percentage,…. He’d virtually driven me out of my heads. I was dreaming of painting our good old college days with him, those girls with their 1:24.5 proportions to boys in our class, daily parties, writing exams, copying, getting caught, and even shamelessly chuckling. But the man was wrapped & pinned in paper as tight as if currency note bundle.

The first sign of growth is differentiation by a kid in any other paper & paper money. ‘Paper has always remained my nightmare’ I can never forget I failed pathetically in XIIth maths paper. I was trying to make a point on paper to my wife. ‘I love paper’ she had to antagonize with me being a woman putting her views before man & also being a wife against her husband. Looking at the cobweb of wrinkles on my receding forehead she explained, ‘without solving crosswords daily how a day will progress? I love paper also because money is printed on that small piece of paper, even our wedding card was printed on paper only’ she chuckled. Wives can read husbands’ head & heart as if they are standing opposite mirror, I always doubted. Knowing opponent so well, helps disarming him like pulling fish out of water. At least my wife never required any efforts to win against me.

Handwriting is my one such an enemy that always kept me at distance from paper. If a person himself doesn’t understand what he’s written what a poor paper can do? Every night I shed at least two tears in the name of whole clerk community in the world. Poor men, always buried in paper. Paper only amused me when I was too young & enjoyed paper boat floating in rain floods out. Mark sheets have always given me mild heart attacks years after years. My graduate mark sheet though was totally in black didn’t let me enjoy since my whole career was open like ocean in front of me & I had my sole paper boat to carry me through.

That piece of paper which brought the information of my selection for my post graduate relieved me & still sooths my senses; I’d at least two more years to go before I actually start sailing through the ocean. My first salary cheque of fourteen hundred twenty five rupees, that paper had made me the riches person in the world that day. One such thin piece of paper stamped mark of fulfillment & immortalizing my living, birth certificate of my son. Many such papers have gone through these hands; many of them have brought me accolades, money & even misery. Most of them have met with their fate in dustbin.

Many of such pieces have helped in igniting cigarette in my lips when smoking was heavenly experience especially in hideouts. One of my friends while sunk in shame & depressed of not having job; I advised him to put some idea on paper. I mean paper on which degree certificate is printed. He’s traveling in chauffeur driven car now; his company has provided him one. A paper sent in time has created marvels, many papers not reached in time perhaps created havoc. One such paper once reached rather late in the marriage hall of my friend; saved the girl who had written him & the one about to seat next to him gave him a black eye in front of some hundreds of baratis.

All said & done, I have not yet adjusted myself to two type of papers; paper napkins at the dinner table & of course toilet paper. They say both the papers are same, yet I prefer water instead. Even today a few signed papers come to me which I deposit in bank with my upward curved lips. Tragically, many a papers I need to sign, I don’t need to watch myself in mirror to see my downwards lips, strained face.

A single piece of paper is light, very light. You raise your hand & leave the paper it will show you where is wind is flowing. If not stacked, papers are very light indeed. Yet, I’m buried beneath such a piece of paper which is literally suffocating me & it will keep doing so. My fathers’ death certificate.

By

Vijay Yelmelwar

BRIBE

‘Who has invented the system of bribing, I’ve vowed to myself to find out the root of this’ my ever enthusiastic & innovative friend declared while we were about to finish our final round of coffee on 4th Sunday evening club of elitists like us all. ‘You fool bribe taking & giving is the basic instinct’ another ridiculed him. Actually instincts are basic only but I’d decided not to plunge into the issue till it gets ripen enough & all eight of us get interested to contribute the valued views. ‘I’ve never seen cat to bribe its master to get the milk’ the earlier one shot back, he must have felt bitten dust by those remarks. ‘Look, we can say bribing is the human instinct. Show me one person who hasn’t taken or offered bribe in his life’ I could not hold myself & put my mouth into the debate. Suddenly I found everybody shook their head in approval & the issue melted like ice cube in the summer noon.

‘Listen, wake up you, I think I found the root of bribing’ my enthusiastic friend called literally in the mid night that night to reveal his discovery. It wasn’t funny for him or me to call or answer the call in the odd hours. ‘Yes, what is that?’ And he narrated the story which I listened helplessly & hung up in the end. ‘Long back, brother in law of a king was good for nothing. So the poor king, to please his queen offered him the job of counting surfs seating at the shore of the sea. The fellow did count surfs & struck with an idea of squeezing money from every passing ship & boat. And the bribing was born here’. Perhaps Octroi too, and that is the reason bribing at Octroi posts are so systematic after all it has the history of thousands of years. Police, revenue, education, power, … are comparatively new in the business; a feeble thought passed by my mind as I was in half sleep & half awaken condition.

Years passed & my ‘human instinct’ carried me through revenue services which presented me with pretty wife & unbelievable opportunity for bribe. ‘Do not bring all those dry papers to me to sign’ I issued standing instructions to entire of my staff which they followed standing not only for me but for themselves too. Be it leniency or delay, promptness or haste in action, transfers, sharing of information, sharing of collection I imbibed on my staff on how it is beneficial to all of us to get along & to get rich. I recently read in some news paper that the ‘percentage’ is fixed in my department. It was truly a proud moment for me & my wife too. After all it was her father who preached me technique of accepting bribe, inducing potential customer to offer bribe, corner straight forward person & squeeze bribe, make crystal clear file into complicated one. Confusing higher-ups & sowing seed of malice into their mind was the shortcut to make money. Why otherwise I’d frame his photo into gold & dangle on the hall front wall?

All said & done, but one of our, I mean mine & my wife’s ambition was far from accomplished. Yet, I’ve full confidence in our judicial system & that day oops night arrived soon. Two past midnight I answered the door bell to welcome the CBI team on raid on that auspicious night of my life. ‘You are really CBI’ my wife just couldn’t believe her eyes she cried emphatically, just short of hugging the officer. Some fifteen member team went on their job of combing our seven bed room terrace flat at the top of the building sea facing owned at some undisclosed sum. ‘It is already three hours they’ve started their work, shall I offer him something to hush up the matter?’ I whispered into ear of my wife pulling her into our kitchen. ‘You are truly ignorant bum. Let them get some clue to our wealth then we will offer them proportionate sum then. They are the people who will leak the information helping us upgrade our stature in society. Those xxxx had settled their raid for three corers, why you want to settle for less?’ my over ambitious wife lectured me in kitchen pulling my night dress close to her chest. ‘Raid revealed treasure’ I read seating at home next days headline in news paper flashing my smiling face.

‘To hell with congratulatory calls’ I cried in regret of putting phone at my home. People from all quarters of life were calling & congratulating me. Few fools were congratulating me on getting pass from the judicial maize; wise men were congratulating me on knowing that I’ve accumulated so much of wealth in such a short time. I had just achieved everything a man can. Money & fame what else one needs? Had my father in law alive, he’d have cried in happiness for his son in law has surpassed him. his mere pension was stopped I was dismissed from the job.

I was grateful for not having the job. I’d ticket for the forthcoming election from the national party. ‘Now a days, getting famous people to fight election & run a government is big problem’ the politician who came at my home to offer ticket & inform his party’s decision was telling me adjusting his topi & dhoti. I looked at my wife she was beaming with joy & looking gorgeous than our marriage day.

By

Vijay Yelmelwar

FACE

‘Seen your face in the mirror?’ perhaps ashamed of facing such question even during college heydays I never purposed any girl. Gifted with longer than normal nose, tiny chin, large forehead, dark complexion, oily skin & no tinge of any intellect; rather confused emotion spilling through those deep small eyes how can one dare to purpose any girl? Well in dreams I did that many a times & had my dream girl too, why lie! Looking at all those fair complexioned, nice nosed, great chocolate faces I’d envy them all through my childhood till teen. This was the reason I’d started to exercise & spent some money even in buying dumbbells, skipping rope etc. If not face, popping muscle through the half sleeve shirt would impress at least some one was my aspiration.

‘This face has created many problems than somebody’s fate would have…’ I was pouring out my mind to my closest friend in deep voice after taking him into confidence over three plates of burgers & two glasses of coke at McDonalds’. He listened till he finished munching free burgers & sipping free coke, wiping his fingers to the paper napkin & then his lips he questioned, ‘anything else?’ ‘Actually you see..’ I continued, relived at least I can talk to him looking into his eyes. ‘I mean anything else to eat?’ he opened his mouth for the first time other than to eat. My already un-presentable face must have turned into unpleasant too if somebody noticed me that evening.

Worried & unsatisfied with this face I cursed the god many a times on how come the genes responsible to grant good face went on strike while I was created? I took the decision to take the things into my control & visited the plastic surgeon. ‘Yes what can I do for you?’ the fellow literally bombed my ambition of looking handsome. I thought the moment he sees me, he’d present his recipe of turning my face into the face of great roman warrior. Perhaps he forgot to put on his glasses I felt. Yet, collecting courage I persisted, ‘I’d like to do my face lift. I’d like my nose to be shortened, chin to be increased, upper part of my forehead may be implanted with hair to make it little short & good looking, ….’ I poured my list of expectations. ‘Then what?’ he asked me with no change in his face, no wrinkle changed its place, no wrinkle cured or straightened. ‘Well, I’d like to look better, handsome!’ I’d come to him with certain cause & it was me who was going to pay him & get the work done. ‘It will cost you dearly’ ‘I don’t bother’ I cut him short, perhaps the fellow doesn’t know how it pains when somebody teases you, girls simply avoid you, nobody takes you seriously. ‘It will cost your dearly’ the doc again continued his line perhaps making it rather clear that dearly means really not affordable money, ‘and most important, who will recognize you with your changed face. You will be a different man altogether’ he finished his sentence. Getting down from his stairs, I was a different man without plastic surgery correcting my unpleasant looking face.

‘Man’s strength lies in his ability in making money & protecting his family, while woman’s strength lies in her beauty; man doesn’t need to look good’. My father was comforting me before we started searching for a match for me. But, by then my priority was changed I was more worried about my career. And way to a good career goes through interviews & to impress interviewer it needs good face which I lacked.

‘You didn’t mention the year of passing of your graduate?’ I found myself asking such question to job seeker to my own office. It was my face which changed face of my career, tired of giving interviews in pursuit of good career I finally left job & started my own business. It was nice & great feeling to be in the seat of interviewer than being interviewee.

I still remember the day I took first interview of a candidate seeking job with me. I closed my eyes in the bed that night & thanked god profusely for having gifted me such a face. HE does right; it is we who take time in understanding HIM.

By

Vijay Yelmelwar