Trip Back Time

A humble attempt at poetry. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental.

REMINISCENCE

By Tapash Kalita

When I first met you; I wasn’t really interested,

‘Cause the tension of exams was spinning in my head.

Still I couldn’t help but notice that amazing smile with grace,

The beautiful eyes hidden under the specs and that lovely face.

The last day of examinations it was,

Wanted it to get over without any fuss,

Everything I had learnt; everything I was taught,

Was swirling in my mind like the motor of the boat.

Just then your aunt called out and introduced you to me,

Said you were doing classes as a doctor is what you wanted to be.

You introduced yourself, “Hello! I’m Margaret.”

I replied, “Hi! I’m Theodor but people call me Ted.”

That was all we talked on the first day,

Sadly we didn’t have anything else to say.

But then we met a few times in the month that passed by,

Where we did talk more than just hi and bye.

I came to know a lot of things about you,

Which was not known to many but few.

Awesome was what I thought of your handwriting when I first saw it;

I still remember how you handed me your address on a small chit.

One fine day I saw you holding a copy of Eric Segal’s ‘Love story’,

I doubt you found your answers there; love, my friend, is a great mystery.

You have a fine taste in music and I really admire your works of art,

Although I must say you are a bit weak in matters of the heart.

Time flew fast and it was time for you to go away,

Will meet you very soon, that’s what I hoped every day.

Days turned into months; months turned into years,

The thought of not getting to meet you again brought me tears.

Five long years later, I got to see your pretty face once more,

Nothing had changed; that smile, those eyes, same as before.

I imagined a variety of questions from you; but you surprised me,

Your first query after five years was, “Are you hungry?”

I stood there thinking how to react for a while,

Eventually I replied, “Yes! Very much!”, with a smile.

Thus the visit started in a very funny and pleasant way,

Only speed bump though was the loss of your phone the next day.

That didn’t lower our spirits though; we enjoyed every moment we had,

All of them were wonderful and joyful; not a single one was sad.

But after three days of fun; it was my time to go away,

You never expressed but I knew you wished I could stay.

“Goodbye! Have a safe journey and see you soon”, you said,

As we slowly parted away; as you gradually started to fade.

I really miss you; you cute little sunshine,

I just hope someday you would be mine.

How times have changed...

THEN AND NOW

15^th August 2011, Monday

I remember how I celebrated Independence Day last year. It was incredible and truly amazing as me and my friends woke up early in the morning and then we vroomed, tripling on one bike to the main porch of our college. We were just in time for the flag hoisting. We quickly got off the bike and stood there as the tricolor rose on the flag mast and then opening up to fly with pride in the gentle wind. The National Anthem tune was playing in the background; it was really a very patriotic and an epic moment for us – The people of India finally breaking the shackles of slavery and freeing themselves from the British Raj. So there we were, enjoying the performance when suddenly we realized that one of our classmates were performing some kind of Rajasthani dance on pieces of glass, we cheered for her. The performance was really great. I met all my other friends – Hindu, Muslim, Christian and Buddhist, wished them all a happy Independence Day. This made me think how amazing it is that students from different parts of the country have come to this one place and have settled here living in harmony and peace. This college was a true symbol of unity amongst diverse cultures and castes. We danced a bit too to the tune of Vande Mataram. And then came the moment of kachodi’s and laddoo’s, since four years we have been getting the same thing but we never got bored of it.

After that we returned to our hostel where patriotic songs filled the air coming from different rooms of the hostel. We too sat down and played the movie ‘Swades’ on my friend’s laptop. The rest of the day went great as we toured the beautiful city of Bhopal – Lakeview, Taj-ul-masajid, Chatori Gali, Kerwa, M.P. Nagar, New Market - singing (screaming) patriotic songs and wishing Independence Day to random pedestrians on the street and other people on their vehicles.

15^th August 2012, Wednesday

It was a different story altogether this time. I was in Bangalore, a very different city compared to Bhopal. I was here doing my internship. I stayed at a PG near the office all alone devoid of any friends. Since Independence Day was a holiday I was enjoying the luxury of sleeping soundly on a weekday until…

‘RAT TAT TARARA RAT TAT  TARARA……’ – I was startled by the ringing of the phone and was even more surprised to see that it was my uncle calling. The time was just 7:45 in the morning (yes, that’s early for me). I answered the call. He asked me how I was and inquired if I was safe and sound. He asked me not to go out anywhere and stay indoors. Well, he might sound crazy to you but he wasn’t. He was in fact very concerned. The tension regarding the violence in Assam was growing and spreading like a deadly epidemic. The illiterate and the idiotic lot of India have mistaken the fight of the Bodo’s, an ethnic community of Assam and the Bangladeshi’s – the illegal immigrants as some kind of quarrel between Northeasterners and Muslims. All the people of Northeast India want is that there should be some action against the illegal immigrants from Bangladesh because of which the original people of Assam have become a minority and have to live as refugees in their own country.

So that’s how my Independence Day began this time. Ten minutes later my parents called up just to ensure that I was still alive. And then after that the calls kept on coming; from my parents, relatives and friends. So there I was; holed up in my PG room unable to go anywhere on Independence Day because of the silly ruckus going around.  All because I was an Assamese.

Still with determination in my heart I summoned the courage to go out for breakfast (sounds too dramatic). I walked to a nearby café and ordered a cup of ‘chai’ – the national drink of India and two samosa’s – the national snack of India. While I was munching on the samosa and sipping tea I noticed the surrounding. After seeing it I realized that the integrity of our nation hadn't completely faded out. People were celebrating Independence Day on the street – people from different religions and castes, people from various parts of India; carefree of the turmoil around they united to celebrate the freedom of our country. This assured me - no matter how strong evil gets, good will always rise. I had finished my breakfast. With a smile on my face, hoping for a better tomorrow, I plugged in my earphones and pressed the play button on my phone as I started my way back to the PG while drifting away to the Scorpions hit ‘Winds of Change’…

The world is closing in
Did you ever think
That we could be so close, like brothers
The future's in the air
I can feel it everywhere
Blowing with the wind of change

Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow dream away
In the wind of change…

The Awesome Ingredients of MANIT Archi '08

PART 1 - UNITY IN DIVERSITY

Right from my childhood, I have read in those NCERT textbooks that India is a land of unity in diversity. I witnessed diversity all around but unity on very rare occasions until I came to NIT, Bhopal. After coming to this college and being a part of MANIT Archi ’08, I realised that the greatest example of unity in diversity can be my class – the batch of Architecture ’08 in NIT, Bhopal. One can find all sorts of people coming from different parts of the country almost resembling the ingredients of a delicious dish.

To start off with, the first person from my class I met in this college was Johny, a Christian by religion and a Chinese Indian by face (can’t use the other C word, which would be racist). He wore specs which always hid his mysteriously suspicious eyes. I helped him with carry his bags from the hostel gate to his room. I thought he was a very quiet and a nice guy back then. But over the years, he left no stone unturned in proving me wrong...hehe...

That very day I met another peculiar guy in the class. As I entered my class for the first day it kind of looked like a crowded bus. I wondered how come there were so many people in the class; later on I got to know that there were students from the Sports Complex errrrr…I mean from SPA Bhopal too which brings back a hilarious memory of this one day when the then SPA Director came to our class although I don’t remember the entire speech he gave but I do remember these following words.

The Director said, “In one year you will be in your own campus.”

Today the date is 14^th August 2012; the SPA students have been trolled for more than four years. SPA classes are still conducted in our Sports Complex. There is a striking similarity though between the Sports Complex and the SPA campus – both are unfinished since a long long time. Coincidence? Think about it!

Ohhh…sorry! I guess I went too far ahead from the class scene. So I searched for a seat, there was an empty place in the last row. I went and sat there. As I was kind of an introvert I didn’t talk much with anyone. Just as I was thinking about my past journey and about my future plans, a guy – a big man pulled up a stool and sat next to me. After he sat, he asked me, “Can I sit?”

I replied, “Yeah, sure”. His face looked familiar and then I remembered he was the same guy in the hostel who looked like someone’s father. Although everyone was in ‘Funda”, he wore sandals with a bandage tied around his ankle.

He introduced himself, “Hi! I am Javed”, in his heavy voice.

I introduced myself too. Although Javed was our age, he looked much older than his age but he has the mind of a child, immature yet honest. And from that day onwards began our legendary friendship – me, Johny and Javed, all from different religions yet bound together by MANIT Archi ’08. I still remember how every day Javed and I used to get ready for college, then go to the hostel wing where Johny stayed and scream his name on the top of our voices which seldom woke him up but most often woke up the neighbours. More than four years have passed by and still our friendship is rock solid.

On the first day of the college as Javed and I were looking around at the people in the class, a very distinct short guy with an infectious smile (as Nakul Sir quoted) caught our eyes. He was talking to everyone with a wide teethed grin on his face. We didn’t have the slightest clue then that after a year or two he would have the most amazing hairstyle in the history of mankind. We also spotted a girl who was waving her hands faster than her lips which were moving due to her constant blabbering. If talking was an Olympic Games event, she would have surely won a gold medal. But more on them in the next part of ‘The Awesome Ingredients of MANIT Archi ’08’.

Bangalore Chronicles - 1

THE TREAT

The date was June 22, 2012. It was otherwise a normal day for me like every other day. I woke up, went to the office, came back and now sitting in front of my computer surfing the net pointlessly but then it’s not just any other day. Today is special. Why? To know that I have to rewind my life to May 20, 2012. That was the day when I shifted from my friend’s place to a PG accommodation in a place called Domlur in Bangalore. The city of Bangalore was still strange for me. It was just four days since I came here. The city was fast; everyone seemed to be in a hurry. And you can’t take your eyes off the road, it was impossible; the moment your eyes drift to the billboard on the roadside or that stunning girl passing by – BANG!!! You are hit by car. Yes, it happened to me while I was walking to the office from the bus stop that day.

My day at the office went well and it got over soon. I was new to the office and being kind of an introvert, I didn’t talk with anyone except my team leader. Although I couldn’t help but notice that the office resembled like a factory – a factory producing buildings. The people working were more machine – like than the computers they were working on. But let’s leave that aside for now. So I was returning on a crowded bus back to Domlur tolerating the irritating gossip of two girls about the previous day’s episode of Gossip Girl and the excruciating yelling of a baby which sounded more like a civil war siren. But then it’s good that it was just two stoppages till Domlur. I reached in ten minutes, crossed the road and started walking to my PG. Domlur looked quite a decent place with all the amenities available and most of the inhabitants were young people working in nearby companies.

As I was walking and searching for a place to eat something, I was a bit hungry. Suddenly I saw a bakery with a big banner which read ‘Winner Bakes’ in a red background. Besides that shop was a Shawarma joint. I was kind of tempted to have that so I was asked the guy about the price of one. He replied that it was forty bucks. I realized I was low on cash and to draw money I had to walk back to the main road. Since I was really tired I decided to chuck the shawarma for that day and I filled up my tummy with a samosa and a cup of chai – no it’s not tea, it’s chai : too much sugar , less tealeaves and more water than milk and you get a perfect cup of chai.

I had almost forgotten about that day, the day I so wanted to have a shawarma that but couldn’t or decided not to, until 22^nd June 2012. In the month that passed by, some days I used to remember about that shawarma but then sometimes I was somewhere else, other times I had already eaten something. So 22^nd June 2012 wasn’t quite a great day for me. I had to wait a long time for the bus and then after that much wait I took the wrong bus and ended up somewhere else from where I took an auto to my office. I was late for the office too. Work was hectic that day. The day at office ended fortunately and I walked to the bus stop as fast as I could as if my office was some kind of time bomb and was about to explode soon. I saw a bus coming and as soon as I entered the bus I had this sudden realization that the May 20^th episode of irritating teenagers and crying babies is going to repeat again; this time with a middle aged man talking loudly on a phone – a little louder and he doesn’t need a phone to make himself heard to the person at the other end. Thankfully the torture ended and I reached my destination. I had had a bad day was what I was thinking as I was walking back to my PG after I got down from the bus and all of a sudden I saw this shawarma joint. And in a split second, I remembered how I longed for that shawarma a month ago and today it seemed was the perfect day to treat myself with one. I went to the guy at the shop with a sense of achievement and asked him to make a shawarma. As he was making the shawarma, stuffing the chicken and spreading the mayonnaise over the roll, in my mind, I was already eating it. And finally the time had come; I took the shawarma and ate it savouring every single bite. I was happy and content. It was the best shawarma I had ever eaten in my life not because it was delicious but because of the wait.

It wasn’t a big thing but it’s the small things in life that makes you the happiest and this was definitely one. Like someone said – ‘Longer the wait; sweeter the moment’.

God has a peculiar way of teaching us the lessons of life, one such instance is this.

THE MESSAGE

Life changes, times change, people change, but the memories, they never change, they always remind us of the life we enjoyed, the times we cherished and the people we connected with. Every incident in our life has some meaning, some essence, some importance which we may not realize at that very moment sometimes but we do realize it in the course of time. These incidents are God’s way of teaching us the lessons to live in every step of our life. He never speaks  to us directly but these few incidents reminds us that there's someone up there helping us, giving us signs that he loves us and hears our prayers.

 One such incident happened with Thomas. Now who’s Thomas? Well Thomas or Tom, as he was known by his friends and family, was a very honest and humble man working hard every day to meet the needs of his family. His wife, Mary was a simple woman who loves her husband dearly and supports him in every phase of his life. He had two children - Samantha, the elder sibling who was also the smart one and Jacob, who only thought he was smart. But this story isn’t about them. This is about Thomas, who has never done any deeds of corruption in his life. He goes to office every day, earns little yet sufficient enough for his family but he has happiness in his life – something many of us strive for our whole life and still don’t get it. But even the most honest man can sometimes be struck by greed. That is what happened to Thomas one fine day.

That morning Thomas woke up as usual, freshened up and started getting ready for office. But he was happy, actually happier than usual. His children couldn’t make out the difference but his wife knew something was just not right.

 So Mary asked Thomas while he was having his breakfast, ”What happened? That smile hasn’t disappeared from your face since you woke up. You aren’t even complaining about the food? What’s wrong with you?’

“Huh?? What? Nothing’s wrong. The food is good by the way” replied Thomas with a smile.

But women, they just don’t believe you when you speak the truth - straight forward but tell them the same thing in a twisted way and they believe you. Anyways Mary wasn’t any different. She asked, “Is it that that new female assistant in your office you can’t stop thinking about?”

“What?? No!!! Are you crazy?” replied a shocked Thomas but the smile was still there.

His wife just smiled at him. She trusted him more than anyone in her world. And till this day he has never broken her trust. But why was Thomas so happy? No one knew. It’s a mystery yet to be solved. Every day he used to take the ferry to cross the river and then take the 6 number bus to Benjamin corner. As usual he took the ferry, crossed the river but after that something else happened. Instead of taking the 6 number bus he crossed the road. Then he walked into a narrow street. He kept walking through the markets. What exactly was he searching for? He took a turn to the left and walked for a while until he realized that this wasn’t the route, he should have taken a right from the square. When our mind is somewhere else instead of where it should be, we always end up taking the wrong turn or doing the wrong thing. Now Thomas wasn’t concentrating on the road, he wasn’t concentrating on the journey; his mind was more engrossed in the destination. But then it’s the journey to the destination that matters more than the destination. Ofcourse the destination makes you happier as was the case with Thomas after he walked backed to the square, took the right, walked for another mile and reached an almost white building with a tint of green.

So there Thomas stood in front of the building happily gazing at the signboard above which read ‘Win Win Lottery’. He went inside the building and walked straight to the counter like a person who’s totally sure he’s going to win today. He bought two tickets for a hundred bucks. The results were to be announced in the evening. This was a daily lottery thingy. Now after buying the tickets he went to his office. He was quite happy the whole day. As soon as the clocked struck 7 in the evening, he packed up immediately. He had to reach the lottery place by 7:30 p.m. he walked as fast as he could, took the bus, got down from it and walked to ‘Win Win Lottery’. There he was just in time to hear the results and he was quite surprised to see high ranked officials and businessmen also waiting anxiously as the results were to be announced.

“Why do these high class rich people even need to buy lottery tickets?”, he thought, “I guess you just can’t say ‘no’ to easy money.” Thomas was pretty confident that he would win the money though. As the results were declared for the double tickets, his heart was pounding in his chest. The first number was 7. He looked at his ticket just to make sure. “Yeah it was 7.”, he heaved a sigh of relief. The second number was 77. He looked at his ticket, looked back at the number screen for a while and then looked at his ticket again.

“No!! This can’t be.”, he said to himself in disbelief and rejection. He was astounded. It took a few moments for him to gather himself up. He thought he had cut the tickets with the number 7 and 77. But then he realized now that they were actually 7 and 70. He was really sad and crestfallen. He was never that sad. He never craved for easy money or corrupted money. Why was he so unhappy now? Well maybe because of the fact that he could have won lakhs of money if the tickets were right. But luck didn’t favor him. Or was it really luck? Because he was pretty sure he would win. Maybe it was just another bad day for him, you know, nothing goes right for you. Even the right goes wrong for you. Maybe Thomas was having one of those days. So after that, the next day Thomas was back to his normal life.

After about a week, on a Sunday afternoon, Thomas was reading a newspaper on the verandah when his son, Jacob came to him and asked, “Dad! Why were you so low last Tuesday? I never saw you that way. In the morning you were so happy and in the evening it was totally the opposite. This thing was bugging me a lot so I asked you. I kind of thought you went psycho or something.”

Thomas smiled and said, “Well son! I got a message that day, perceived it in the wrong way so I got sad and then when I actually understood the message in the last few days.”

“What message? Please stop talking like those ‘Matrix’ people. I am just an eleven year old. I don’t have the wisdom of a 50 year old.” said Jacob with a confused look.

“Hey I’m 48, not 50” said Thomas offensively; “alright, back to the point” he continued “remember I told you I lost the lottery. I had bought two tickets.”

“Well yeah, but those lottery tickets don’t really matter to you, right?” Jacob replied.

“Hmmmmm…but the previous night I saw a dream. And in the dream I clearly saw that I had won a lottery with the tickets 7 and 77. Although I am not into all these things, I went to buy the tickets just to try out my luck. I was sad that day because all the way till the results were declared I thought I had bought tickets with the numbers 7 and 77 when actually I had bought the tickets with 7 and 70.”

“Ok, that sucks. But what was the message that you got? Some kind of text message? E-mail? What?” Jacob asked.

“Well then over the next few days I realized that I am just not made for easy money or corrupted money. Through this whole incident God sent me a message.”

“Arrrrrggghhh…what message? Can you please cut the suspense and come right to the point?” said an annoyed Jacob.

“Alright! God gave me the message that you are one of my favorite children. Don’t ruin yourself with this easy or corrupted money. Because once you are in that web of greed you can never come out of it like those businessmen standing beside you at the lottery place. They can’t even let go that small amount of lottery money even though they are so rich. I didn’t understand then but I now understand it, clearly and completely.” explained Thomas.

“That means I’ll never get easy food.” said Jacob.

“Ohh! Why is that?” asked his father with curiosity.

“I once snatched my friend Paul’s tiffin and while I was about to eat it, I bumped and fell down and the whole food in the tiffin fell on the ground.” explained Jacob with a sad face.

“Now you should never do such things. They never bring you happiness. Even if you succeeded in eating the tiffin you wouldn’t have been satisfied.” advised Thomas pointing a finger.

“I know dad!! Because even if I do succeed to snatch his tiffin, I’ll trip and fall again.” said Jacob, “Ok bye dad! I have to do my homework.”

Thomas saw his son rushing into the house smiling at his innocence and then continued with his newspaper. He’s a happy man now.

So this was the message for Thomas from God. What message did you get?

Not just a room number but an identity...

The Legend of 2223

        Dedicated to the awesome bunch of 2223

It was a strange city, I had never been here, used to read in my high school geography book that it was the capital of Madhya Pradesh. Four years before I didn’t know shit about this place. I had done all my registration formalities in the college I got admitted in with my father. Now the only thing left was to check into my hostel room. Now as I walked down to the front desk of the hostel, I was wondering who might be my roommates, how would they be, would they be spoilt like me, a lot of questions were spinning my head. The big moustached BOPEE (security guard) handed me the register and asked me to sign on it. 2223 – my room number, I was thinking to myself, so this is my room although I thought 2222 would be a cooler room number. But little did I know that 2223 wouldn’t just remain a room in the coming days, it would become a legend, an identity for all the 18 members. Well, the room was allotted to just four guys but how did it turn into eighteen? Well it’s quite a story and all my 2223 friends know it very well I guess.

            I signed on the register, filled up the basic details, looked into the room and then left for New Market to buy some stuff with my father. While I was shopping I got a call from an unknown number. I picked up the phone and said, “Hello?” and I heard a very feeble and weak voice from the other side which said, “Ji, main aapka roommate bol raha hun. Mera naam Akash hai. Kya aap room keys leke aa sakte hai, hume room dekhna hai.” So I had to go back to the room to show him the room and that’s how I met Akash – short, looked weak, pale fair and a notorious smile. By the evening, we both met Akhil. Now when I saw Akhil’s photograph on the register I thought he was a short guy but to my utter shock he was tall, like really very tall. He might have been a little more than 6 feet but from where I saw him he seems like 10 feet guy. Akhil, well, his eyes looked cunning, very shrewd – what we call 'chalak' in Hindi. His voice, ofcourse, was kind of irritating but luckily his stories were pretty interesting so we had to bear his voice. The fourth guy, Devanshu, arrived into the room with his father and he looked pretty studious and serious type to me but I had no clue that I made a wrong assumption during that time. The next day during the noon, there was a knock on the door. It was a Bengali guy from Siliguri with his parents. Apparently his parents had stayed in Guwahati so they came to meet me. Till today I don’t know how Abhinaba – ohh yeah that was his name - came to know I was from Guwahati. In the afternoon there was another knock, I opened the door and when I saw the person at the door I was like who’s this Nepali. But then when he introduced himself I came to know he was Gobinda, an Assamese (atlast) and was from Lakhimpur. He was quite quiet and formal but that was impossible since he was from Assam but as time passed he started opening that mask of formality he wore over his face. The next day we went to visit the other rooms and went to this Noida guy’s room. He always had a smile on his face whether he was angry or happy. I always imagined Noida was a place with big factories and chimneys but from Mr. Noida a.k.a. Sachin, I came to know it was much more than that. But then in Sachin’s room what grabbed my attention even more was this fat Falguni Pathak looking guy who was talking to a South Indian guy in Telegu and then talking to Sachin in a perfect Bihari accent of Hindi. That was quite a skill. This guy, Ankur Bharadwaj, laughed a lot.

            After a few days, Akhil took me to a fat guy’s room. He was a look alike of a girl from our class, he was a Bengali from Jabalpur but he asked us not to tell that to anyone in the fear of getting ragged. Now, Premanshu, which was his name, I thought was a fun loving guy but he never ever used to compromise with his studies. I met Premanshu’s He – Man roommate, Rohit Kachhawaha on the day he got ragged by some badass seniors. That was the day I told him about the tragic story of how the Archi seniors used to slap us and rag us right after the class and I always used to miss lunch. That lightened up his mood a bit, he might have thought that there’s someone else who suffers more than me. By the way I still call him Kachhua (Tortoise). Pranjal, I met him in the NE ragging calls. Though he was from Shillong, his family also resided in Bongaigaon so I used to tease him by speaking in that Nalbariya accent of Assamese. But I must say never before have I seen a fairer Assamese than Pranjal. Bhaskar is the quietest one in the group so he escaped my eyes for most part of the 1^st year although we all Assamese had quite a few journeys homewards and back where we enjoyed a lot. I remember playing table tennis with Tarun in first year, he was quite a simpleton and that’s the only memory I have of him from first year.

            Rohit Shrivastava’s fame was actually over shadowed by Rohit Kachhua’s (spelling mistake intentional) popularity but nevertheless he made quite a name for himself through his sincerity. Mithilesh came to study in our room during the first year to study. Since he wasn’t the typical Maharashtrian, so he was good. Paritosh – well, of what little I have heard of him, it’s this that he’s infact very little but still packs a punch when need be. Now Puneet, well everyone says he’s a very rich guy and the only experience I had with him was having tea near his home. He’s quite the bouncer of the group. I mean we need guys like him in case guys like Paritosh get into a fight. Ankur Upadhyay, well, he ­looks shrewd and he’s shrewd. But infact that’s good as we also need a diplomat in our group, u know where power fails, words can come in handy.

            With time the room members grew in number and the room number had more and more significance. It gradually became an identity and no doubt it was the most famous room in first year. Now after four years it is a big wolf pack but unfortunately we all will go our different ways in a few days but I hope the legend of 2223 remains forever.

When I tried to peep into my future...

The date is 6th December 2053. And I am sitting on my couch facing the full moon on a chilly winter night in my house in Guwahati while I can smell the aroma of the tasty dinner my wife is busy making in the kitchen. Today is my 66th birthday. I have completed 65 years of my life. In this time I have achieved almost everything. I was born on the 6th day of December in the year 1988. As a child, I wasn’t a headache for my parents unlike other kids at that time. I went to one of the best schools of my city and was always good in studies. After passing out my HS I made my parents proud by getting admission in one of the most reputed institutions of my country. After five years of study, I got a good job for myself. Then I married an understanding wife who supported in every phase of my life. And since then my life has been consistently improving. Now my son has a beautiful and caring wife and a good career and my daughter is happily married and living abroad. Throughout my life I have been striving for success and now that I am successful I have totally nothing to do. After I retired in 2048, my muscles were tired and my soul was fatigued but in these 5 years I have had too much rest and I am now energized enough to fulfill my long lost passions which I left in the midway of the journey of my life. Now I am happy that I have no homework to do, no sheets to make, no design assignments because of which I spent countless sleepless nights, no clients whom I have to impress, no co-workers who eat up my head and no responsibilities at all. Though I miss them I am happy that now I can do whatever I want. Now that I am free from all these I can revive my old passion of reading novels and writing short stories. 

I have been devoting the majority of my free time during my teenage to do what I love most: reading and writing. Reading and writing is the fuel for an everlasting healthy and fresh mind. I mean besides reading the NCERT textbooks in school which I rarely do and writing in the examinations which is very less, I used to read a hell lot of novels and write stories too. First it started as just a means of passing time but then this hobby became kind of a passion. I still remember clearly how I used to keep my textbook open on my study table and read a novel instead during the study leave of my board exams. It was just wonderful those days to let myself lose into a whole new world every time I open a book. It can be the fascinating world of ‘Harry Potter’ or the amnesiac CIA assassin of ‘The Bourne Identity’ or the Sicilian Mafia don of ‘The Godfather’. Reading comes as the most useful facility for me to see this wonderful world through others' eyes, thus offering me the scenes of all over the world. Reading helps develop a sense of creativity. Reading novels can take me to the romantic city of Paris or the dense jungles of Vietnam or the cold arctic Siberia. Thus, reading is the ultimate pastime which also helps in enhancing the capacity of our minds. 

My passion for writing also ran parallel with my reading. My love for writing germinated when I was asked to write an article in the English exam, the subject being the menace of monkeys in our English exam. The article was quite impressive. But the turning point was when I was in class 12. Then I had created a comic character and I used to write stories on that fictional character. It was kind of a series. Though I admit that after I got to college I left this passion of mine. I became too busy with my life. I began writing just for the fun of it and that was pretty much it. I had been told by several friends, that I write really well. Obviously, every time I got such a compliment, I felt very proud but most importantly, I felt really very happy and this happiness all the more encouraged me to start writing. They asked me to take this passion of mine seriously and they even offered to publish my stories as a series in a local English newspaper. But then before I knew, I became busy in college and then in my office and then with my family. And hence I never got the time to nourish and enrich my passion. So now is the time to pursue my passion for reading and writing and who knows-I may write a whole novel or an autobiography. 

Now I have to start with my reading habit. But I have to plan it in such a way that it doesn’t hinder my other daily activities. So I am thinking of setting a goal for myself of finishing reading at least one novel in a week. I mostly read espionage novels or novels about organized crime in the world. Now it will be fun to enter into the world of action and suspense again after a gap of almost 45 years. It will be awesome to imagine the scenes described in the novels and give some work to my cerebral muscles which have been in rest from the last 5 years. So on 10th December which is next Wednesday, I am going to the North East book fair and buying loads of novels by my favourite authors Robert Ludlum and Mario Puzo. Since I was a kid, I have always wanted to read the holy book of the Christians-The Bible. I am also going to buy The Bible and read a chapter every night before going to bed. I have had very less time for God in the passing years so in the process of reading The Bible, I can also draw myself closer to the Almighty. Apart from all these, I was a comics-worm in my childhood. I remember how I used to finish one Tinkle in an hour. Few days back when I saw my grandson reading a Tinkle I couldn’t stop myself from searching my childhood in my grandson. Where have those sweet days vanished??? I sometimes wonder and ask myself. I get no answer but a sickening emptiness in my mind. I want to relive those days again. I want to be the 13 year boy who was always lost in the characters of Tinkle like ‘Tantri the Mantri’ or ‘Kalia the Crow’ or ‘Shikari Shambhu’. And so I have already bought many Tinkles and Chacha Choudhury comics. These books are like my second heart which pumps out a rush of imagination and knowledge in my old age. I am now jubilant that I will be able to reconnect with my passion for reading once again after such a long break and hence keep reading always till I die. 

Writing has always been something which lets my wings of imagination fly high. I was encouraged to write by my best friend back in my school days. He had always praised my style of writing. Through writing I can do anything-I can build a castle in the clouds or reach the peak of Mount Everest or steal a billion rupees or maybe even date Megan Fox(not in real but only in my stories). Writing lets us do things which we would never imagine. Writing takes our mind from Bhopal to New York in a fraction of a second. So writing is more like a hypothetical means of transportation and a tool to let my soul do whatever it wants than a mere hobby. Writing is the weapon to remove my solitude and induce my mind with a lot of creative ideas. So it wouldn’t be wrong to say that it acts as an innovation injector for my brain. Though I had written stories in the past about my friends in college and stories with morals but this time I want to take my passion to the next level and maybe publish a book. It will be a lot more difficult to revive this old passion of mine as reading can be done easily but writing needs skill and patience. So what I have done is that I have rearranged my room so that it best provides the environment to boost me while I write stories. I have also asked my servant to increase the frequency of giving tea during the day to me as it has been found in the recent Human Development Analysis (HDA) by the UNO that Assam tea increases the efficiency of the human brain. I had already thought in my mind during my working years that I would start with my short stories once I am done with all the responsibilities of my life. 

So now is the time to take my passion of writing seriously and do something fruitful with it which will give me satisfaction and also provide a platform to show the world the hidden author in me. I have had this all planned out. I had written stories on a superhero I created myself when I was 17 years old. There were thirty three stories on him. In the college I tried to write about this fictional character but I couldn’t write any farther than four stories and all of them written during the ‘Structures’ class as I didn’t understand a thing of that subject. This superhero was more of a sarcastic take on the typical superheroes of today. This superhero was created at a time when superheroes were very popular but I can guarantee that they weren’t more popular than the superhero of our school. He was a very big loser and used to become flop in his each and every step and which eventually results in him making a mockery of himself. He was actually a superzero rather than a superhero. These stories were really funny and everybody liked them which was a very cool feeling for me. And to be frank this character was inspired by a real life guy who was actually my friend at school. Now I am seriously thinking of bringing that superhero back to life with the ink of my pen. I am going to continue this story or should I rather say novel. I don’t know if I would be able to live upto the expectations of the fellow friends of my school who were all praise for my stories forty seven years back. But still what is there in trying it out. Like some great man once said, “Try try till you cry and then die”. It’s always better to regret doing something than to regret of never trying to do it. I am already in the process of thinking of a plot for my next story. The editor of ‘Literatte’, a literature magazine is my friend as I once designed his company’s head office for which he was quite impressed. So I talked to him and he agreed instantly to publish my story. So now the only thing left was to start writing which I will be doing very soon. And with this I am beginning the second innings of my life as an author not as an architect. The only thing I want with this story is that people recognize and appreciate me as an author. This maybe a small step but it may prove to be a very big leap afterwards. 

The last important thing which I have always wanted to do in my entire life but then it wasn’t the right time to do it than now is writing my autobiography. Now I have very less years to spare in my life and have no duties to fulfill. I think this is the ripe time to start with it. I wanted to write the autobiography because my mother once said when I was in class 12 that I could write my autobiography when I will be all free in my life. These words of my mother were more of a request than a suggestion. I have also thought of the title of my autobiography. It would be ‘The Architecture of my Life’. This book will merge my career and my passion, blend architecture with literature, show the unique relationship between buildings and books and at last communicate the importance of these elements in my entire life. 

Thus, reading loads of books and writing a novel are the two things I would like to do, now that I have nothing to do. I wouldn’t let God take me away from the face of the earth until and unless I finish these tasks I have vowed to complete. From tomorrow begins my new life without AutoCAD and parallel bars but with a pen and paper and countless hardbound books. A new dawn awaits for me on the horizon..a dawn rising in the dusk of my life. Wish me luck for this new beginning….folks!!!