THE RED BANGLES

The street seemed unusually crowded that weekend. To Paraag it seemed that every single human being out of the threshold of his house had made his way to that very street. He threaded through the crowd cautiously avoiding being hit by a bicycle and at the same time keeping himself from bumping into a woman carrying a new born in her arms. Having been in the same town for five years now, Paraag was a common visitor of the Champa Bazaar. His eyes ran through the length of the street. Countless hawkers were selling there wares. There was literally everything anybody would have on their shopping list. Plastic buckets, crockery, clothes, shoes, sandals, bags, toys ..from hairpins to moth balls . You just had to name it!!

It was the fifth year of Paraag's life in the city. He had graduated out of the Government Engineering College last year. Like any fresh graduate Paraag also had tons of dreams and hopes about his career. He found them blooming into reality when he found his first job in the same city he had studied. But the sky high and alluring promises of his employers turned out to be a hoax after all. In his eighth month at work, Paraag realized that they had made him sweat like a pig, tapped his resources and creativity under the tag of training and exploit his potential for a seemingly non-existent salary. Two days back instead of receiving a confirmation letter, Paraag had received a letter from his head stating that the duration of his training had extended for another six months to ensure his skills in some remote areas which he never once realized even existed. Paraag had remained quiet all those months and worked the fourteen hours every day for the salary that barely sufficed the commutation and food expenses.

It had taken him sometime to decide he was ready to leave the firm even if it meant a forfeit of the bond. He had two options either he would go back to his village and help in the family business which was weakening every day and wait for the right opportunity or kill his conscience and ask his friend to arrange a job for him abroad. He heartily despised the latter. He knew that he had to get away. He cannot lose the love for his job just because he ended up in the wrong place. At the moment his workplace made him feel as though he were in a screen saver. Everything seemed real but was only an illusion.

That evening as he walked through the street Paraag's hands found his wallet. He flipped it open and stared at the contents. His cursed access card of the company seemed to smile at him devilishly. He had half a mind to throw it and makes it vanish in the crowd. He decided the better of it. His eyes grazed though the rest of the belongings his wallet held his only earnings . A few ten rupee notes and a hundred rupee note and a ticket for the general compartment in the Sabarmati Express for 11pm that night, to Vadodhra .his home town. The rest of his future he would decide in the room where God had shown him the earth for the first time. He can never go wrong there! He was certain. He gently closed the wallet and pushed it back into the pocket of his old jeans. He had to get the toy his nephew had wanted. The vision of his elder brother saying a third "No" to the little boy when he had produced the wish flashed past Paraag's memory. A smile on the little boy's face was certainly a just reason to spend the crisp hundred on.

Paraag continued walking through the crowded Champa .Almost suddenly his gaze was drawn to a crowd of girls some of them squatted on the footpath, the others stooping and few others standing as they clicked their tongues and shook their pretty heads and talked animatedly in Hindi to an old woman selling bangles. On approaching Paraag realized they were bargaining over the price of the bangles.

"Bitiya .I myself get it for Rs12, how can I sell it for Rs 10???" the old woman was asking.

"Rs 15 is too much for these old fashioned red bangles what a waste!!" the girl who seemed to be the gang leader smirked, she mouthed a "Chalo" .and the gang followed after her looking for a new victim to test their bargaining skills.

The old woman spoke to herself, "Haan Haan .laugh away. After all who in these days knows the legend of these red bangles? The purity and innocence of a woman was what these once symbolized. Their absence these days is justified!! Now it is even difficult to find a girl who deserves them I'd better be left without food than see it on the wrist of such people." She shook her head in disgust.

Ten minutes passed ."Auto!!!"Paraag called.

The driver eyed his prey, young clean shaven guy in decent clothing ..and impatience in his eyes ."Perfect Murga" the auto driver thought.

"Kahaan jaana hai Saheb?" he asked.

"Samantha Auditorium .Kitne loge?" Paraag enquired.

"Pachis rupaiyye Ab is se kam mein to wahan pe pahunchoge nahin aap",he challenged.

Paraag had no time for arguments. He had to reach the auditorium before the performance began. He climbed into the auto and watched the alleys disappear and the vehicle made its way to the brighter suburbs. On reaching Samanta Auditorium, Paraag got out and paid off the driver.

Paraag checked his watch 5:30 pm showed the old HMT steel dial which Paraag's grandfather had gifted him. His luggage was in the railway cloak room. Even if the performance began by 7 and ended well after 9 .Paraag could still catch the train leisurely. There was no chance he would miss Apoorva Sinha's performance today Judging that  he wouldn't see it again for a long time .or maybe .never again!!!! Paraag forced the feelings aside and stared at the huge banners.

"CELESTIUM ..A TANGIBLE JOURNEY TO THE ENCHANTED DANCE FORMS OF APSARAS". When he reached the last of the banners, he stared at Apoorva life size cutout. She was looking stunning as usual. Falling in line with the crowd, Paraag entered the auditorium and found a place in the rear end of the eighth row.

Apoorva had her makeup men and dresses hovering about her in the green room. They were putting finishing touches to her makeup… She followed the instructions of her makeup man as he trailed the tip of the black eye liner on her eye lid. When they were done with their jobs, Apoorva opened her little hand bag and stuck a dark red bindi on her forehead in between eyebrows and smiled satisfactorily at her reflection in the full length mirror. She had her lucky charm on her forehead .lucky her!!!

As she moved towards the stage, she felt her heart quickening. This was a feeling that took over her every time the final minutes of her performance approached.

"Walk to the stage making sure that the curtains are down and peep through the curtains. Look at your audience Scan the crowd. Catch familiar faces All of this Of course Without being seen!!!!! This will make you familiar with the crowd and comfortable."Apoorvas teacher had thus shooed away her stage fear, and Apoorva had been following the same words ever since her debut performance thirteen years back. Now that she had decided to pursue a career in the realm of dance, her head was always a whirlwind of thoughts searching for innovative themes for her performance. Especially on that day, she was more than tensed. She had pondered over her next theme for months and found none. If the same void continued she might as well kiss her career goodbye. People wanted freshness repetitive themes would take her nowhere!

For the past eight months, this ritual of scanning the crowd had a special purpose. A smile began playing on her lips as she gently pried the curtains apart and looked through the crack.

First row ..she winced Aww! The President of Rotary Club of the city. A pain in  the neck ..Womanizer of the FIRST order She made a mental note to tell her manager not to let him into the green room after her performance. Many of her "so called admirers" queued up to after her generous gifts and shortcut ladders to fame. She despised them. She was a perfectionist and profession was meant to be profession and nothing more. That was her belief. Her gaze trailed off to the second row she spotted her beloved uncle there. He had managed to come. She felt happy. Her uncle was her best critic. More acquaintances followed in the rest of the rows. Then she saw him seated in the last seat of the eighth row. He seemed to be in some distant thought .she felt elated seeing him there. Satisfied she went on to check if the sound tracks were correct with the man who handled the audio systems for the day. Apoorva gave no room for chaos; she herself ensured the backstage controls were all proper before taking position on stage. It was that habit of hers which made her meet Paraag. Another human being on earth who was so much like her. A self motivated perfectionist.

Today's performance would be an attempt to bring the charm which the celestial beauties or the celestial dancers of heaven were one known to possess. The journey would let her spectators touch and feel the grace of those age old apsaras.

Paraag was nodding to a talkative man seated next to him as the curtains were raised. A hush fell over the crowd as the music began to low. Making its way through their nerves it spread over their system ..dissolved in their blood. Their eyes found it impossible to follow Apoorva's transition from slow to ultra fast movements. Her eyes conveyed different meanings and her mudras ascertained them. As ex-pressions flickered on her face, the feelings of the same overpowered her crowd.

Paraag thought he skipped a heartbeat at a point when she made a direct eye contact with him in a provocative gesture. The rest o the performance was awesome. At the end of it, fog like material spread over the stage and the curtains rolled down. The applause was deafening.

Paraag made his way to the green room quickly. People were already thronging at the gate. Apoorva's manager (Shukla ji as Apoorva called him) was talking animatedly to two distinguished looking men. He caught sight of Paraag and waved. Paraag felt the wave of excitement sweep over him. This was the only place where the trainee software engineer enjoyed VIP treatment. As Paraag strode into the green room, the manager couldn't help wondering "what is in him, after all?" 

Paraag felt the tension in him easing. Every time he was under the gaze of the manager, he felt that Shukla would recognize him this time. Somehow ..that never happened. The event occurred a year back. Paraag had been in the last days of his student hood. His meeting with Apoorva was one of those lucky accidents ..

Paraag' friend, Anjan's brother was the owner of a shop that rented sound systems to auditoriums the best one in the city. As Anjan's brother was tied up with something that day, he had asked Anjan to take care of the arrangements at Swapnil Nagar for the day. Anjan had a tough day at lab. So he had asked Paraag to cover up for him. Paraag had supervised the sound arrangements and the audio controls for the day. When he was almost done the dancer in full costumes came up to him and insisted on checking the sound tracks herself. She adjusted the frequency levels to her satisfaction but found that they were done methodically. She was surprised and asked Paraag where the usual man was. Paraag told her that he was a proxy. Apoorva caught sight of his college bag and T-scale. Apoorva's was the first dance performance Paraag had ever witnessed. It was a reflection of perfection itself. He realized that there was so much in that woman that others didn't even know had existed. As she made her exit Paraag had stopped and congratulated her. They spoke calmly but the manager intervened. "Offh uh .she must be tired. Why do you guys not stick to your job?"

Apoorva had waved off her manager and talked to Paraag. "So you an engineer?" she gad asked him quizzically. "I will be one in a few more months ..my final days at college", he had replied.

From then on Paraag watched as many as performances of Apoorva as he could. He saw her passion for her art and the way she pursued it was infectious. However their relationship remained confined to the discussions in the green room .. Though each one knew the other was willing to give better dimensions to their relationship .things remained untold.

Paraag entered the green room. Apoorva was clearing some of the mess on her table. Her face broke into a smile when she saw him. Paraag caught himself wishing for the hundredth time to see her without makeup. Deep inside a fear lurched today ..it may remain a wish forever. He cast his eyes around the room. The table was stacked with a pile of gift boxes.

"Tokens of appreciation from admirers ."he thought. Slowly they began speaking. She told him that her career was in the rock period. She didn't   an innovative theme. Two of her usual chances were stole away by her rivals. He saw tears in her eyes. Yet she regained her composure and determination glowed e gently in her eyes. He gently told her of his own apprehensions about his job and she listened intently. There was agony in her eyes as he told her, he would be going home that night away from the city. Her eyes welled up with tears when he mentioned his plans about going abroad.

"Abroad?" she had almost choked on the word. "Does that mean that you are leaving the city forever??"

He sighed "May be "

So many emotions encircled them .anxiety, fear, confusion, love, parting . They didn't know which the predominant emotion was. So much remained unsolved in front of them ..their careers were in danger unless something was done.

It was them that she noticed the packet that he was clutching in his hands .Paraag let it fall to the floor. It fell with a clinking noise on the heavily carpeted floor. Apoorva crouched to pick it up. She opened it with questing hands. When she looked up at Parag her eyes were filled with tears .

She asked him accusingly "How could you drop them what if they had broken???"

With that she removed the stone bangles adorning her wrists and threw them on the floor. She slipped the red bangles on her wrists and adored them. Paraag told hr how he found it that evening and she smiled.

"Paraag,.can't you give your fate just one more try? I have an acquaintance who can help you find a new job. It was a challenging one and he was in search of the right person. It depends entirely on your ability if you would have the job or not. If you are ready .then I guess I have the runway for your plane to take off", she was almost smiling. Paraag considered the offer. He had nothing to lose, but everything to gain. What she said was right .he could give a try.

She even went up to the extend of saying he would be the best employee of the company for the year!! How he wished her words came true .. And indeed they did!! Paraag's employer was practically bouncing at the ideas Paraag put forward.

Paraag called Apoorva to convey the good news. She was absolutely thrilled. She said she has a surprise for him; giving him the address of Titanka Mahal auditorium, she clicked the phone. Paraag didn't know what was on her mind. They had been raking their brains over the last few months thinking of a theme for Apoorva's forthcoming dance. Their toil had gone in vain.

Paraag's jaw dropped as he got out of the auto in front of the auditorium. The banners all around welcomed him to Apoorva's newest dance drams titled . "THE RED BANGLES"

Apoorva staged the prominence of red bangles in a woman's life. She showered how culture changed over decades how the red bangles painfully vanished from a woman's wrist. She portrayed the red bangles as an epitome of purity and submissiveness.

As the curtains closed, a dozen red bangles jingled over the microphone the same red bangles sold by the lady on that busy street . They had a tale of their own to say .!!!!

Apoorva beamed at Paraag in that green room that changed their fates. That saved them from crossroads .where at the hands of creativity two patrons of perfection found satisfaction in their endeavors.
 
 
                                    
 
I have attempted to convey one message through THE RED BANGLES.

Certain things in life are not found by searching for them. You simply have to wait for them to find you. BUT WHEN THEY FIND YOU ..you must never hesitate to throw the doors open to them. Creativity and satisfaction ..are two of this long list.

The rest is for you to interpret..


ANITHA KAVERI

 MUSINGS

Guys and girls, I'm writing this blog with helluva lot of irritation. I have been trying to push this incident from my mind, but in vain and now I finally turn to the ever dependable and ever ready… ilanders.

You guys might have gathered from my earlier posts that I seem to have taken a sudden and unexplainable love for slumber. Very soon I will push the sloth, know to be the animal which sleeps for the longest period far behind. Now it so happened that my mom my dearest mom decided to put an end to this affair I have developed with sleep. She seems to have signed a pact with the building workers demolishing a house in my neighborhood. The banging noises never seem to cease every hit they make seems to be on my cerebral hemispheres and my poor neurons are screaming "I cannot take this any more " Very soon I can see the scope of them turning into Eminem fans!!!!!

Well lemme get back to the point.

So my mom pulls me outta de bed and plans outings every day.. just to keep me awake.

OK I say

'Today we will go to the Azhakodi Devi temple', She says.

I raked my brains and tried to force my disoriented neurons awake. Yea it is a famous temple in our city. The only times I have gone there are during the vijaya dasami days that also 3 or 4 years back.

In about an hour me, my mom and my grand mom were at the temple. In spite of being a sleepy head.. I was some what happy, as me going to temples was a rarity. All the slokas and sthotras I had learnt came flooding to my memory.

Boards hung on the wall of the temple seemed to stare at me. And these boards my friends are the cause of my irritation. 'Devotees clad in salwar/chudidhars, pants, jeans, shirt are not allowed inside the temple'. I stood there reading this cursed notice board in my favorite pale green kurta and white salwar. I failed utterly to understand the logic behind this practice. What the heck is wrong if a woman decided to dress modestly and offer prayers!!!! As I stood there irritation mounting on me, a family came in. the girl among them was wearing a long flowing skirt and a black strapless top.. revealing bare shoulders and ample cleavage!!!! The top threatened to fall off any moment. I stared aghast as the temple supervisor coolly let her in I stared in disgust as the guy who made me stand out followed after her!!! I could hear her lungs banging against her rib cage pleading for space to expand in that top of hers

My mood to pray was ruined.. I jus felt miserable for the poor deity inside. I moved away and read the rest of the notices which hung on the wall. There was one announcing that the chief priest had donated five huge copper vessels to the temple. Another one was asking the devotees to avoid using mobiles inside the temple.

Breaking my thoughts a mobile wailed the 'Bacardi blast song' as the girl stepped out of the temple after her 'worship'. A croaky voice flooded the silent area as her caller wished her a happy birthday. The guy at the other end went on to sing his wishes GOSHHH he brayeddd!!!! And the idiot did not even care to reduce the ear piece volume and walked away with her croaky admirer at the other end and parshad in the other hand.

And me?????? Standing transfixed staring at her

Now tell me guys in this growing age of atheists agnostics and rationalists where existence of gods is a matter of doubt, do these idiotic practices take us anywhere??

Cant we worship when we are in salwars and jeans??? Is there any logic behind this if any one knows . Pray tell me!!!

                                                                         ANITHA KAVERI

                                                THE LITTLE ANGEL

Hmmm I would have slept for a record 23 hours if it hadn't been for a call from my cousin. Yea I had begun sleeping at 9:45pm last night and had slept through most of the day. Nope the tse tse fly (pronounced as set se or sexy!!!) is absent in my city. So that was not the coz of ma sleeping sickness. I was just what do u say lazy??…. super lazy??

Whatever it be, when I woke up I found 28 missed calls across de screen of ma fone!!! Boyyyy!!! That was a decent number. This seemed to have no impact on my conscience and I slowly drifted off to sleep once again.

I was woken up by my mom, and she thrust the cord less fone on ma face telling me to speak up fast as it was ma cousin from Ireland. Adarsh is ma uncle's son who is a consultant cardiologist in Ireland. Last time he called..He had screamed at me for picking up the fone as he just wanted to hear the "aunty in de fone" talk Hindi and Malayalam!!! Yea weirdness runs in the family I'm not the only victim.

Anyway "helooooo ." I said, sounding nothing like the way I do when I'm awake.

"Sleeping beauty areyyy udd!!!! Aunty boli chaubeezo ghante sothi rehti ho!!! Aur koi kaam nahi kya tumhe!!!"  traitor mom!!! I thought. Nothing can be more mortifying than having some one realize you have nothing to do!!!!

"tum tho tehre cardiologist. Tumhe tho dilonki maramat karne se chutti kab milti hai?? Bolo aaj kaise yaad kiya??" I attempted an old number to make ma self look small.

And it clicked!!

He went onto say about how job kept him busy and how his lil doggie grew big. Yea he's got a  st.Bernard .slowly I felt his voice turning troubled as he spoke about his trip last week to London and running into Akshaya's parents at a restaurant. I sensed the purpose behind his call. His mind was troubled and just needed to speak. After taking to me for about 20 minutes, I felt him easing and the conversation slowly returned to things like his next visit to India and his approaching engagement ceremony etc. Adarsh put down the fone leaving a worried me at the other end. That is how I began writing this blog.

Clearly thoughts about Akshaya was dominating my mind. Soon after completing his studies from London Adarsh had worked in Kerala for a few months. My dad had gotten him a job in the biggest hospital in our city so that he could have some 1^st hand experience and at the same time spend some time with us. He is ma mom's pet u see.

Akshaya was one of his favorite patients.. till date. And the prettiest and the youngest she was about a year and a half when her parents 1^st brought her to Adarsh.

I thought back to the day when I had 1^st and last met Akshaya. Adarsh and I had planned to go out in the evening. He had left to the hospital asking me to pick him at 5pm from the hospital. On arriving at the hospital, I found Adarsh holding an extremely cute little girl in his arms. He beckoned me in and took the lil girl whom he called Akshaya and me to an adjoining room, where he began examining the little child. From the ex-pression on his face I realized that there must be something wrong. He handed me the stethoscope and made me listen to the violent heart beats of the baby. Her eyes were flickering in all directions.. without concentrating any where and there was lil co-ordination between the two. Adarsh told me she was breath less confirming my doubts. I watched him change from a play mate of mine to a professional as he ordered the tests to be done to an awaiting nurse. We cancelled our plans for the evening and waited for Akshaya's test results. Adarsh diagnosed Akshaya with a hole in her heart. That night I found him more pensive than ever, in between our usual late into night conversation he told me that Akshaya's condition cannot be rectified immediately. They had to perform a surgery and it could be done only after she turned 5.

Akshaya's father was an engineer in the UK and had come down to see what could be done to his little daughter. The guy had a month's leave before his return and wanted Adarsh to perform the surgery immediately which Adarsh was not willing to do.

A week later Adarsh received a call from Akshaya's father. He was calling from a private hospital in Delhi. He was proud, telling Adarsh that the doctors had agreed to operate on Akshaya. Adarsh left the game of cards we had been playing and talked animatedly over the phone about the risks involved in the process. I saw the doctor in him leaving as he pleaded to the man for taking a second opinion. But he was adamant and went ahead with his decision.

Result??? Akshaya is 8 months dead now!!!!!!

Adarsh had been heart broken on the day when his friend working in the same hospital called him up to convey the news of Akshaya's death. Adarsh could speak only about how the father came all the way down to  kill his daughter and about the pathetic condition of modern medicine whose saviors the modern doctors who do anything to get money.

After a few months Adarsh had realized the condition of Indian hospitals where he had to do everything according to what his chief demands him of and decided to migrate to Ireland in search of job satisfaction.

For whom did I write this blog? Adarsh who did not succeed in finding a hospital of his dreams to work for? Askhaya's father who wanted an immediate treatment for his daughter that money could buy?? Or the devils in the white coat who failed to see the smile of innocence on that little angel's face in spite of her breathlessness?Or for the crying mother about whom I mentioned not a word in this blog??????????????????

ANSWER : FOR ALL OF US..WHO CARE!!!!!!

AKSHAYA… I CAN SEE YOU SMILING MA SWEETIE.. YOU KNOW ALL OF US CARE!!! DON’T YOU!!!
                                         
                                                                            ANITHA KAVERI