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It was a late gloomy evening on a Friday. The sun had set long ago & the moon had got prominent surrounded by a billion tiny stars. The imminent spring rains had left its impression all over. The smell of wet earth was getting addictive. Aadarsh was on one of his methodical patrolling visits to the VVIP area of AG Square in Bhubaneswar. Though it was not something, his job outline demanded him to do still, his moral obligations & communal responsibilities compelled him to put the engine of his Classic desert Storm 500 to test every now or then. His bullet was waiting for the signal to go green at the main traffic post of the square. Traffic signal is a place where you get to see different emotions pouring out simultaneously, yet none of them gets any response. Excitement, Exuberance, Wretchedness, Glee, Amazement, Eagerness, Repugnance, Annoyance, Indignity, Self-assurance, Bravery, Conceit, Endurance, Greed, Relaxation. On his left, He could notice the unresponsive look on the father’s face after the humdrum activities of yet another dismal day while somehow managing to push the breaks & being able to make his Priya Scooter come to a last minute halt. His wife, the mother of two children (boy standing on the footstool between the seat & visor and the girl, probably two three years elder someway had succeeded in finding a place to sit between her parents), was scanning through her bag of freshly bought vegetables to find out if she had missed out on something. The boy had displeasure on his face as the pointer in the speedometer had hit zero. The girl was quite animated to see all the dazzling twinkling lights & wished her house glittered equally. The multiplicity of emotions was dazing Aadarsh, when a new Honda City stopped by on his right. It had a newly married couple in it, apparently animated, probably finalizing their weekend plans. The car was yet to get a registered number & its vibrant red color flawlessly harmonized the couple profoundly gripped in love. This was the biggest advantage of being in a uniform with IPS & Odisha Police’s labels on your sleeves. Nobody would be giving you a second look whereas you could virtually scan him or her through. The countdown for the signal to go green had come down below 20 when all of a sudden the traffic inspector took manual control & stopped vehicles coming from all three directions including Aadarsh’s & let go a speeding Ambassador from the Secretariat road to rush through.

Something immediately coerced him to follow it & his bullet took a left turn with its usual thunderous noise. He had to upsurge his speed valiantly in order to be in close distance from the hurtling car. He had a look on the number plate. The sign beside, grabbed his attention, which had “District Magistrate-cum-Collector, Puri” written on it. He did not know why was he following the car, but kept on doing it till the International Terminal 1C of Biju Pattanaik airport. He parked his bike in front of the car & went ahead to put forward a word-of-concern for over-speeding & using illegitimate powers in order to get a speedy pass to the airport while disturbing the city traffic. He had merely taken a few steps towards the car when the first glance at the collector coming out of the car stopped him there itself. He knew boys were being out-shined by girls in civil services exams, still his patriarchal mindset did not expect a lady in her late 20s to come out. She was in a dark spring green saree while her endearing milkmaid braids, double winged airliner paired with a soft pink lipstick were arresting for sure. She was seemingly bothered, removed her brown Valentino sunglasses & came closer, probably in an attempt to show her disgust. They had a good look at each other & to everyone’s astonishment present at the terminal including theirs, hugged each other promptly. Even a random dream of meeting “Parul” seemed inconceivable to him, and there she was, right before his eyes, in his secured arms. They were totally immersed in each other till someone called out her name & reminded her that they must rush. She loosened her grip. Aadarsh could feel the warmth of her breath slowly shying away from the back of his earlobes. She hastily asked for a minute & hauled him near his bike. She was showing complete authority over Aadarsh. She wanted to own the moment, but very well knew Aadarsh had commandeered that influence of her. Her eyes were getting bluer, yet she talked ostentatiously all the while. Frankly, Aadarsh was in no mood to listen to her, He had got into some other world. All those past days were manifesting right before his eyes all over again.

Parul was 19 when she first met Aadarsh in her Political Science class. He was 25. Being a typical teenager, she did not know how to differentiate between priorities & non-priorities. The rebel in her continually made her recoil adversely from anything her well-wishers expected from her; even if it made sense. Aadarsh, on the other hand was peaceful, composed & stress-free by nature. He anticipated, considered, and scrutinized each & every possibility before arriving at the course-of-action while Parul took life as it came. They were radically contrasting & fell for each other precisely for the same reason. Parul, still relatively new to the idea of dating was quite keen on being in a relationship with the sweetest, most caring & considerate guy she had ever come across. Aadarsh loved everything about Parul; the way she would innocently show her immaturity & later laugh at it, the manner in which she would act the subservient one in the relationship yet would want Aadarsh to make her feel special, the routine in which she would ask for a “bye-bye-love-you” each time they end a conversation.

Reality is not as rosy as it seems though. Deep down, Aadarsh was cursing himself for getting into a relationship that he felt he would not be able to do justice with. Besides the long age gap, they belonged to different states, had diverse upbringings, and pursued distinctive beliefs. Finally, the day arrived, when his guilt feeling overpowered his love. He called up Parul for one last time & expressed his request for not meeting again. Parul was too shaken even to ask for an explanation. She gave him a hug & before leaving said only this, “Whatever it is, I don’t want to know. I knew this day would come. I just want you to understand one thing, I will never forget my first love.”

That was then; 8 years back. Aadarsh never got to see or talk to Parul again. Parul had not changed a single bit till then. She still was the chatty, opinionated girl except the fact that, now her opinions mattered to a lot of people. Aadarsh learnt that Parul had opted for Odisha Cadre in the quest of meeting him some day. He, without a delay, asked Parul if the guy asking her to hurry was her husband. Parul, with a wayward smile on her face denied it. She did not bother asking Aadarsh the same question; He being 33, she must have thought of the obvious. What she did not know was, the shame of not being able to stand up for his love, made Aadarsh unresponsive to love. Aadarsh wanted to let her know that he was still single, that he still wanted her back in his life, that given a chance, he would never allow himself to repeat his indescribable mistake, but he could not say a word.

Parul left for the flight with her colleagues & Aadarsh stood there motionless & despondent.  History echoed itself. Only difference though was, 8 years back, Aadarsh wanted to leave as he knew things would get worse if he stayed. Parul felt the same this time around. None of them had selfish reasons still fate obligated them to separate.

NB: Early morning dreams sometimes become one of your stories. This one is an example. :) , Parul, if you are reading this, I want you to understand & appreciate my parting. As i said, things will get worse, if I stay.

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Veer parked his car near the famous bouquet shop at the palace square & rushed in to buy his love’s favorite, the fox brush orchid. He got a small, delicate & very expertly arranged bouquet of orchids & was getting back to his car when something stopped him at the door. He could not have afforded any further delay but this was no ordinary day. This was the eve of Valentines Day. The 3^rd Valentines Day they were going to rejoice together, but this time not as friends. Veer had finally gathered the nerve to pronounce his love for Noor.

[ Noor swept Veer of his feet at the first look itself. They had met each other exactly 3 years back at a coffee shop on a valentines day. Both were single, without a valentine & bizarrely trying to maintain customary faces at two adjacent tables. Every other table had love written all over with couples deeply engrossed in each other.  Both Veer & Noor had had enough scratchy eye contacts with couples lining up outside & waiting anxiously to be able to get a table. Finally, Noor fluttered her long dark lashes at Veer & asked if they could have coffee together. Veer by nature endured a striking incongruence with his name. But to avoid the discomfiture, he gladly obliged. That was the first time Veer saw her. Noor, unlike Veer, harmonized her name impeccably. Veer could not take his eyes off from her long dark honeyed hairs with a lock slowly upsetting her left eye. He was mesmerized by her mellifluous voice & honored her with his silence. They were the strangest couple in the restaurant, yet the most vivacious one. All the love poems, Veer had ever read were manifesting before him. Veer was so hypnotized in Noor’s exquisiteness that he could only retain 2 things from that meeting – Noor loved orchids & wished to open her own coffee shop one day. That was the beginning of a wonderful amusing voyage of companionship & love.]

Veer scanned through all the vibrant bouquets in display & finally chose only a fully blossomed red rose. He got back in his car & drove to the same coffee shop; they had met the first time in. Noor looked ravishing in her red mermaid gown. His restless eyes met Noor’s smoldering ones. Before Noor could show her annoyance for his late arrival, Veer greeted her with the orchids, though he very well knew what she lacked was a red rose in her hand. Veer tucked the rose in his suit & sat alongside. Noor’s bother was far-gone & they went on to have their most enjoyable evening together.

Veer was driving her back home, when Noor asked him the purpose behind tucking a red rose in his suit. Veer knew that was then or never. Before any reconsideration could take effect, he abruptly poured his heart out. This startling revelation stunned Noor. She too loved him from the day they first met; yet it took 3 years for Veer to finally confess. Veer’s car was about to take the last turn before they arrived at Noor’s place & he was still to get an answer from Noor. Both of them were feeling goose bumps all over their bodies. Noor had hardly said, “I love”, when a reckless truck from the opposite direction dodged & missed them by a whisker. Veer lost control of the car & dashed it onto a tree. It lurched & Noor was fiercely thrown outside. Veer got trapped with the seat belt & was glued to the driver’s seat. The resonating sound of raining glass made him get back his sense. He yelled out Noor’s name several times but never got a response. Finally he could free himself from the car & came out. On the footpath bordering the main road, there laid Noor bleeding profusely.  Her face was drenched with blood. Veer could not fathom what he was seeing & immediately passed out.

Veer got up with an excruciating headache & discovered himself on a hospital bed. He had no time to give attention to his own injuries & asked for Noor. He was aided to stand on his feet & was taken to the ICU by the Nurse where Noor was kept under life-support. The nurse informed him that she was in a state of coma & considering the internal injuries in her brain, chances of her coming back to life was grim. Veer could not respond. He did not feel his pain anymore. He could not see anything but the view of Noor playing with her hair locks while showing her vivacity discussing about her coffee shop. He could not hear anything but Noor singing songs in her syrupy voice for him.

It had been almost a complete year. Noor was showing signs of minor improvement but still remained in coma. Veer left his job after the accident & started a coffee shop with whatever savings he had. The coffee shop was named “Noor’s” & there was a particular table that always had the “Reserved” tag on it. It was reserved for the day Noor came back to Veer’ life. He visited Noor everyday to explain each minute details. He sat beside her bed every night to remind her of all the stories of their years together. Not a while, he had given up on her, even when the doctors had given up all hopes. He had no control over his fate that was testing his love still he was determined to get through the thorns & find the rose.

Summers saw Veer toil hard to realize Noor’s dream of setting up a coffee shop. All through August, the whole universe shed tears with him & till a few days back in January fate remained rather cold to Veer’s frequent & earnest pleadings. Ultimately destiny gave in. it was 14^th of Feb again. Veer was suited up in a similar black suit with a tucked red rose at the chest. He had a bouquet of orchids in his hand & was invigorating himself to propose to her love. He went down on his knees, held Noor’s hand & this time the proposal was not rushed at all.

“Noor, I literally fall short of words, when I start unfolding you. You make me spellbound. You leave me speechless. You leave me captivated. But, you know what, you complete me. I have loved you from the first time I saw you. You asking me to join you over coffee that day is the best thing that has happened to me. I’m glad that, you happened to me. I want to forget this past year as a nightmare. I fancy the days when we will spend all beautiful nights in each other’s arms, holding each other cozily so that nothing makes us apart. The time I have spent with you is the only life I have led so far. I don’t believe in multiple lives, please come back, I would rather spend this lifetime with you. All I want you to know is, I love you. I love you like no one ever has or no one ever will.”

A teardrop flashed from his eye & descended onto Noor’s palm. She felt the warmth & opened her eyes. Her palm embraced his; pulled him closer & she whispered, “I love you” into his ears.  She said she could hear him all the while she was asleep. She remembered all the stories. She teased him for being too melodramatic. She could hardly speak, but used up all her energy in showing her gratification.

She was discharged after a week. Veer had got a similar red gown for her. He was himself in a black tuxedo. To Noor’s displeasure, he did not have a rose with him this time. Veer drove her directly to the coffee shop. He scooped her in his arms, carried her to the “reserved” table. The whole coffee shop was ornamented with fresh orchids & on the table there was a bunch of 373 roses resting; most of them had turned black, some of them had signs of shrivel, a few them had their remaining lot of fragrance & one of them was prominently visible in its flourished shape. Veer had got a rose for Noor every single day from that ill-fated night. Then was the time for Noor to take the custody of those.

She raised her tear-swollen eyes to Veer’s & “I LOVE YOU” was what they both said promptly.

NB:  Found it on some webpage. Thought it was worth sharing. :), Pardon the author, whoever he/she is, for the grammatical errors. The theme, though is a heart-touching one.

The story began when I was a child. I was born as a son of a poor family. Even for eating, we often got lack of food. Whenever the time for eating, mother often gave me her portion of rice. While she was removing her rice into my bowl, she would say “Eat this rice, son. I’m not hungry”. That was Mother’s First Lie.

When I was getting to grow up, the persevering mother gave her spare time for fishing in a river near our house, she hoped that from the fishes she got, she could gave me a little bit nutritious food for my growth. After fishing, she would cook the fishes to be a fresh fish soup, which raised my appetite. While I was eating the soup, mother would sit beside me and eat the rest meat of fish, which was still on the bone of the fish I ate. My heart was touched when I saw it. I then used my chopstick and gave the other fish to her. But she immediately refused it and said “Eat this fish, son. I don’t really like fish.” That was Mother’s Second Lie.

Then, when I was in Junior High School, to fund my study,mother went to an economic enterprise to bring some used-matches boxes that would be stuck in. It gave her some money for covering our needs. As the winter came, I woke up from my sleep and looked at my mother who was still awoke, supported by a little candlelight and within her perseverance she continued the work of sticking some used-matches box. I said, “Mother, go to sleep, it’s late, tomorrow morning you still have to go for work. “Mother smiled and said “Go to sleep, dear. I’m not tired.” That was Mother’s Third Lie.

At the time of final term, mother asked for a leave from her work in order to accompany me. While the daytime was coming and the heat of the sun was starting to shine, the strong and persevering mother waited for me under the heat of the sun’s shine for several hours. As the bell rang, which indicated that the final exam had finished, mother immediately welcomed me and poured me a glass of tea that she had prepared before in a cold bottle. The very thick tea was not as thick as my mother’s love, which was much thicker. Seeing my mother covering with perspiration, I at once gave her my glass and asked her to drink too. Mother said” Drink, son. I’m not thirsty!”. That was Mother’s Fourth Lie.

After the death of my father because of illness, my poor mother had to play her role as a single parent. By held onher former job, she had to fund our needs alone. Our family’s life was more complicated. No days without sufferance. Seeing our family’s condition that was getting worse, there was a nice uncle who lived near my house came to help us, either in a big problem and a small problem. Our other neighbors who lived next to us saw that our family’s life was so unfortunate, they often advised my mother to marry again. But mother, who was stubborn, didn’t care to their advice, she said “I don’t need love.” That was Mother’s Fifth Lie.

After I had finished my study and then got a job, it was the time for my old mother to retire. But she didn’t want to; she was sincere to go to the marketplace every morning, just to sell some vegetable for fulfilling her needs. I, who worked in the other city, often sent her some money to help her in fulfilling her needs, but she was stubborn for not accepting the money. She even sent the money back to me. She said “I have enough money.” That was Mother’s Sixth Lie.

After graduated from Bachelor Degree, I then continued my study to Master Degree. I took the degree, which was funded by a company through a scholarship program, from a famous University in America .I finally worked in the company. Within a quite high salary, I intended to take my mother to enjoy her life in America. But my lovely mother didn’t want to bother her son,she said to me “I’m not used to.” That was Mother’s Seventh Lie.

After entering her old age, mother got a flank cancer and had to be hospitalized. I, who lived in miles away and across the ocean, directly went home to visit my dearest mother. She lied down in weakness on her bed after having an operation. Mother, who looked so old, was staring at me in deep yearn. She tried to spread her smile on her face, even it looked so stiff because of the disease she held out. It was clear enough to see how the disease broke my mother’s body, thus she looked so weak and thin. I stared at my mother within tears flowing on my face. My heart was hurt, so hurt, seeing my mother on that condition. But mother, with her strength, said “Don’t cry, my dear. I’m not in pain.” That was Mother’s Eight Lie. After saying her eighth lie, She closed her eyes forever!

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 A New Year, A New Day, A New Beginning, A New Passion.

Old scars still remain, to haunt me this year, may be in the years to come.

Call her Nirbhaya, Damini, Amanat or even Viraa, It’s not going to make any difference. The life is lost. The dreams are shattered. Parents are grieved. Brothers have lost their hero. A nation mourns. My heart goes out to her utterly devastated family. I can’t even remember, when was the last time I felt this awful & vulnerable in my life. Catastrophic episode it was.

29^th December. The day, I will never be able to overlook. It’s etched in my heart as the National SHAME day.  A part of me, a part of all of us, a part of India died. It was a multi-system failure, very articulately explained in medical terms as a multi-organ failure.

Millions took to the streets in the Capital of one of the most committed & sophisticated democracies of the world protesting against the heinous act, which is practically undreamed-of for a human being having a reasonable mind. Delhi, aptly called the “Rape capital” of the country, registers a rape case every 18 hours. God only knows, how many go unregistered. Most sex crimes in India go unreported, many offenders go unpunished. An aljazeera website informs me that "In Delhi, a woman is reportedly raped on average every 18 hours or molested every 14 hours, about 92 % of those accused of rape are known to their victims".

The number of rape cases as a percentage of criminal cases reported to the police has been steadily increasing, while the conviction rate has been progressively dropping. Capital punishment is rarely awarded. If you ask me, I am stringently against capital punishment. I mean, I don’t find any worth in punishing a person by taking away his/her life. But this time, this very “rarest of the rare” time, I really wish the convicts are brought to justice by capital punishment, probably even after a surgical castration. I really want them to experience the physical ordeal the girl had to go through & the severe emotional trauma the whole country is undergoing.

Formalism is a condition explained by Riggs, which refers to the discrepancies between the description & prescription, the actual & the form and what are being practiced & what are being preached. India belonging to his “prismatic society” concept practices the existence of formalism that ultimately leads to favoritism, nepotism & corruption.

Red-tapism is indisputably the most poisonous & contagious malady prevalent in our administrative system. The law commission’s recommendation in 2000, took almost a decade to be drafted as a bill. Vishakha case has been reduced to textbooks only.

The demand for setting up fast-track courts to handle rape & other crimes against women was duly acknowledged & implemented promptly. But I believe, courts had always been there. Law had always been there. It will still take its course.  Just speeding up the process does not ensure safety of women. What we need is to fast track the process of broadening & expanding our mindset. No police, no law, not even constitution can do anything, until & unless we start sincerely & justly respecting women.

The change has to come from within. India is facing a similar kind of problem, which the United States used to have during the late 1800s. Like the then-America, for everything that was wrong with the society, the responsibility of the failures, we traced to some of the loopholes in our constitution. When the scope of blaming the constitution was narrowed, we have now started accusing the administration. What we need to do is to have introspection.

Dynastic politics has to take a back seat. It not only demoralizes today’s youth to participate in our country’s democracy, but also rests the power to govern our country in the hands of ill-educated, unreasonable, unformed & disgraceful candidates. A prime example of this is the recent comment of a newly elected MP & the son of a highly experienced & reputed politician known for his media handling skills. The juvenile MP’s reference of the lady protestors at India gate even shocked his own sister. This proves the fact that he is in no manner ready to be a part of our law making institution. At the same time Venkatachalliah committee’s recommendation of not allowing political parties to field candidates accused of rape & other such crimes is hardly taken into consideration.

This merciless act garnered the most radical & revolutionary response from the corporate world. (I am talking about my friends’ circle). Apart from empathizing with the brave-heart girl, my friends attributed the failure in preventing the crime to the inefficient law-&-order maintenance by Police. I have some questions for them, “How many of you pay your income-taxes / sales-taxes truthfully & in-time?” “Aren’t you limiting Govt’s efforts & initiatives to bring about a welfare society by not allowing it to work at its full capacity (Financial)?” The tax imposed on you, is being used for all the welfare programs of the Govt including police reforms & better law-&-order situation. “How many of you have not bribed a traffic policeman to let you free in a traffic rule violation scenario, an authority at the RTO/Passport office for speedy processing of your application?” These are just a couple of areas I emphasized. I would urge all my friends working with the corporate sector to be honest & prompt in contributing in whatever way, they can, to the society.

I have a request to all my friends working as civil servants & all the aspirants as well to understand the requirement of the civil society, the market, and the state & to justly personify “civil servant”.

Growing intolerance among people is a welcomed initiative. It should be used in a constructive considerable manner. High time that our conscience overpowers our instincts. Let’s not RIP on her death. Let’s make her sacrifice count. Let’s allow her soul to fly free.

We may have lost the battle owing to her death, but we will win the war. Change will be there, not only legal but moral as well.