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Dil Se...……………...Neelam Sharma

In search for a purpose...….

 Raman was an 11year old lad, living on the streets of Mumbai. He didn��t know who brought him there, who was his parents, where he hailed from. His four friends were his family and Meera Aunty used to feed them all with whatever money they used to make out of beggary. Like other kids, he was also trafficked and forced to beg, but he had no qualms about it. He never bothered to find out the answers of his very existence. Meera Aunty always used to tell him that God sends people on this earth for a purpose and it is people who figures out their purpose in life.

He was born with dusky complexion and sharp features. He had twinkling brown eyes and was relatively taller than other kids of his age. He was blessed with unusual wits and quick reflexes. Despite of all the setbacks in his life, he seemed to embrace life and romance with it every moment. He wanted to grow up as a Bollywood hero, which made him cultivate mimicry and dancing skills from his early age. He was the one who used to get maximum alms by entertaining people with maneuvering the latest dance steps. He used to collect money my mimicking famous Bollywood personalities and uttering their dialogues. He found bliss in amusing people. His charm can engross thousands of people. People cheered him up for his outstanding performance. It seemed he was living his dream every moment. He was popularly known as Cheetah.

One Monday morning, an NGO blew the lid off the begging racket. Raman with other children were rescued and were housed in government run juvenile houses. That did not bring any relief to Raman’s tormented life, but has given him nightmares for life time. Raman was repeatedly sexually assaulted and sodomized by Hassan.  Hassan was the handler of juvenile house, and he was a badass. When Raman resisted, he was beaten and tortured. Raman’s life was taking a hideous turn, he forgot to smile and amuse people. He spent a sleepless night thinking of Meera Aunty who taught him finding the purpose in life. He has always thought that he was born to entertain people. He has dreamt of people flocking him to autograph.

But dark clouds have pervaded his life and he could not see a streak of hope. Raman was broken and traumatized and this incident had a devastating consequence in his life. Raman decided to spill the beans and went to the person-in-charge of juvenile house to report against Hassan.

Mr. Bali (person-in-charge) was a potbellied person in his late 50s. He seemed approachable and considerate.

“Namestae Sahib”, Raman greeted him.

Mr. Bali lifted his gaze from Newspaper he was reading and signaled him to sit. Raman made himself comfortable on an old wooden chair which creaked when he sat.

“How are you Raman? Is something bothering you? “, asked Mr. Bali.

Raman was scared and struggled to blurt out the whole incident. He was sweating, fidgeting and eyes downcast. Before the words could come out, tears made his presence on his cheeks.

“Sir, you are running late for meeting”, a known voice came from the door.

Hassan reminded Mr. Bali.

“Hassan, I would take some time”. Retorted Bali.

Sir, google map is showing traffic more than usual, and this could make you late for the meeting. Hassan reminded Mr. Bali.

Mr. Bali put his hand on Raman’s hand and comforted him.” Don’t worry, I would see you in the evening, till then Hassan will take care of you.” Bali consoled him and left for the meeting.

Raman’s faced turned pale as he looked at Hassan. Hassan passed a devilish smile and said” Don’t worry, we’ll have fun tonight, you asshole”.

Raman was petrified with a mere thought of what Hassan would do with him tonight. The very thought made his shudder. With jitters down his spine and racing heart, he decided to make his escape before tonight by hook or crook. Juvenile house was expanded with high, pale yellow walls. He checked every possibility to flee and found a small revolving gate at the back of the building which could be jumped easily if remain unguarded. It was 7:30 and the guard has moved away. It was the only opportunity before him to run away from the dark night awaiting him tonight. He jumped off the gate and ran, ran like Cheetah. For a month, Raman did not speak to anybody, an entertainer was turned into a quiet depressed boy. He did not tell the incident to any of his friends. One fine morning, he decided to take control of things instead of being a victim of it, thinking that would make his life return to normalcy. He started stalking Hassan and kept a hawk eye on his every move. He found out that every Friday Hassan used to pay his visit to his paralyzed brother. 

Raman started collecting empty liquor bottles while picking up rags, he filled up four bottles with gasoline and stuffed them with a piece of cloth.  On Friday, when Hassan came out after visiting his paralyzed brother, Raman hid himself behind the bush with four gasoline bottles. As Hassan sat in his car and started the engine and moved some yards, Raman lit the gasoline filled bottles and threw on his car one after the other. Soon the car engulfed in a fireball and caused blast which ripped Hassan into pieces. There was a panic all around. People were running to safeguard themselves, so was Raman. Nobody had an inkling that eleven-year-old Raman could lead to such devastating consequences.

Raman thought this would set him free from the atrocities he had faced in juvenile house, but this has stolen away his innocence and smile from his face.

Ten years later

 Raman was sitting quietly near the sea shore, gazing sun set. Cold breeze was kissing his face and his feet were dangling in the sea water. He could see the sea meeting the horizon of sky at the far end. He looked back at his journey pondering how badly he had fostered his dream of being a hero someday, and how life has thrown him into the dirty business of drug trafficking. He was getting drowned in the quagmire and felt suffocated. He reminded of Meera Aunty and felt her sitting next to her and saying” God sends people on this earth for some purpose and it is people who figure out their purpose in life”.

He kept wondering the real purpose for which he happened to come to this planet………………

With Luv,

Neelam Sharma,

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Dil Se...…………..Neelam Sharma

Unforgotten Baby...……………..In lighter Vein

Today, one nanometer virus has shaken the entire cosmos and turned the lives of over 7.8 billion topsy-turvy. CORONA is an acronym of Cosmos Of Rarely Or No Activity. Being a part of essential services, I have the privilege of moving out and observe the same city as never before. There is no hustle bustle on streets. The car now runs deliriously at the speed of 100-120 km/hr which was earlier restricted to 30-50 km/hr. Air has purified itself, Rivers have clean drinking water. That shows nature has a mighty healing power. Every news channel is harping about the Corona run rate of different countries like the score of the world cup cricket match. People around are discussing economy, poverty, immigration and everything under the sky. Amid the tremendous fear and anxiety in people about their lives and livelihood, one segment of society is completely ignored and isolated. Ironically this segment is way bigger and their problem is immensely grave. 

This segment of people is striving badly for only one thing and no government is coming to their rescue. Hoarding the alcoholic beverages to beat the CORONA stress. They can’t beat the CORONA with CORONA as the latter is out of stock. Those whose intellect used to be at best after sipping down the fine scotch, beer or wine is now struggling to have anything, just any brand. This compromises their intellectual wealth as it was driven by only one thing and that has come to an extinction. People who used to feed their soul with Hoegarrden, Stella, Bira or Henikens have come down to GodFather, Kingfisher Red, Thunderbolt or…... That too it rips off their pocket as they are paying double and triple the MRP. And those who are not able to catch hold of even these are now resorting to weeds.

In this lockdown, people make their move by keeping the doctor’s prescription in their pocket or flaunting passbook to cops who are waiting for them to push inside their home with a baton. The police station is awash with cases of domestic violence where wives whine about husbands lying idle and being excessively demanding and not helping with chores. People claim that they would sincerely abide by Modi ji if Modi Ji allows the liquor shop to remain open once a week at least. They earnestly implore that they would mind social distancing, but only once …. for god sake Modi ji ……please give them the opportunity to live for the leftover days they have at their disposal.

I try to pen down their desperation and deep-down feelings in following lines:

We kept living an incomplete life till now,

For a moment now let us

Live fully live fully,

In this scorching sunlight, let’s us quench our thirst with some chilled drops of beer. 

My favourite beer, My favourite beer……

Let me enjoy the sound of clink of Ice cubes in my favourite scotch.

Let me have my evening peace………

Let me restore my sense of well being……..

And for all the health conscious ladies…………..

Let me pamper my skin and hair with red wine

Let me have a healthy heart with red red wine

Red, Red, wine, stay close to me

Don’t let me be alone

It’s tearing apart by blue heart.

With Luv,

Neelam Sharma

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Dil Se...…………..Neelam Sharma

Unforgotten Baby

Day 2        May 04/05/2020

Wed/Thu 11.30 P.M

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Dil Se........

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Living With Demon  NEELAM SHARMA DAY 1       DIL SE......      May 3/5/2020                    Tue/Wed  01:20 PM

Kushi had been the most adorable, flamboyant, ravishing and independent girl who loves to challenge life every now and then. Though hailing from a conservative place, she had big dreams. She never used to listen to anyone except her heart. Some people used to consider her a girl with full of attitude where as some thought her cute and pure hearted person and they wished her never to change herself. She was bold, opinionated and outspoken. But as she was in a habit of challenging the life, life also challenged her and put her into series of trials.

 She was married to a man of her choice and that marriage made her life topsy-turvy. Very soon, love was completely wiped off from their relationship and now they had a four month old baby boy. It was Diwali when she fell prey of domestic violence on petty family matter, but a lot more gruesome has already occurred in their wedlock. But this time, she wanted to run away, liberate herself and wanted to live the life she has always dreamt of. It was Diwali and tears were vehemently rolling down her cheeks. She was cursing herself on the decision she made to marry the man she once fought for. She has made up her mind to protect herself from slipping into the darkness of life. Around 2 in the morning when her husband was sound asleep, she tenderly placed the baby in the car seat, the only treasure she had and picked the car keys and hurriedly ignite the engine. She was frightened and tormented but desperately wanted to escape. Her hands dampened with sweat in pleasant winter and she nervously gazed from  the rear mirror of the car if her husband was chasing her. May be the alcoholic effect has made him to get into slumber and she effortlessly made her escape. She took a sigh of relief after she drove 25 miles and found nobody followed her.

 It was Diwali, she did not realize the gloominess of night as the city was sparkled brightly with colorful lights, but she soon realized the deep darkness of night as she crossed the suburbs. She was running away from one demon without realizing that she might encounter many more on her way.

She placed one hand on her son comforting him in his car seat next to her driving seat and another hand on steering. The car was speeding at 120 km/hr, but had to halt at railway crossing as the train has to cross. Now, it was three in the morning and there were hardly few cars waiting along her side. On her left side, at some distance, four men were sitting and boozing around the fire, they created out of wooden logs to keep themselves warm. They noticed a lone female sitting in the car. Was it an opportunity for them? She sensed the danger and locked herself from inside. And soon, her car was surrounded by four rowdy men who sniffed her like a dog and peeked into the car. She was scared but kept seated inside the car in trepidation. She was wearing salwar kameez but forgot to carry her dupatta in haste. They stared her lustfully and that missing dupatta made her feel as she was wearing nothing. Their lecherous gaze made her feel sick. For a moment, she thought why would they harm her, she is no more a girl, she is a mother and who is fucking hell interested in mothers. But then newspaper headlines flashed before her eyes where the cases of molestation and sexual assault against minor to elderly women are reported in the country. These people have sick and morbid mindset. Moreover, bad times come unannounced. She looked outside for help, but there was no cop. But can anyone trust the cop? Aren’t they part of a lot of such crimes? She tried to peep inside the other cars if somebody could help her, but in this materialistic world who likes to help others and put their lives in peril. Albeit scared, she was awash with a myriad of idea to save herself but nothing seemed convincing. Fighting with four people in any case was a bad idea, especially with a child. Her mind was racing faster to think of smarter ways to get rid of those vultures. She tried honking so that some good soul came to her rescue, but that also did not work. Moreover, she was in a city which tops the crime rate. There was no weapon in her car so that she could save herself. At last, she surrendered as she thought of the worst end. She decided to call her father and shared with him her location as if something wrong happens to her and her son, he could at least find their bodies.

She was running from one demon without realizing that she has to save herself from many more on her way. After 15 minutes, the train crossed and she was allowed to drive her car. Fifteen minutes seemed like fifteen hours to her. She was sweating, panting and exhausted. It seems God helped her on Diwali which is a symbol of victory of light over darkness, good over evil and knowledge over ignorance. But this experience has popped up numerous questions in her mind.

Why the world is so unsafe only for women, be it her house or outside. Why she can’t have a sense of being safe? Does a man has to ever experience this fear which the women face on a daily basis? For how long our society keep discriminating on the basis of gender? Can we make it a place where everyone would have their space, their identity, their thought process and we learn to respect that?

 With Luv

Neelam Sharma

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