The story starts on a cold winter night of a December Month in Delhi. With temperature touching as low as 1 degree Celsius roads can be seen deserted with scarcely any veichel plying on the road with only those people who are coming back from their office late. The beggars can be seen sleeping on the foot path shivering heavily in that biting cold penetrating deep into their skin through those torn old rags covering them stinging every part of them like a scorpion. In that city of usual hustle bustle everything was unusually calm with Delihites still trying to come in terms with the horrible blast that took place only few months’ earlier right before Diwali casting dark shadows over that festival of light which ironically is the symbol of victory of good over evil. The place where the blast took place-Sarojini Nagar still echoed with that eerie silence that has gripped once busy market place after those acts of cowardice by Jihadis fighting for their so called-Religious Cause. The lull left those horrific cries of people crying out in pain, the noises of ambulance and people panicking, running all over the place can still echoed at the site where the blast took place. Few candles can be seen burning at the site lit by few good souls who are still living among us sending out a strong message that hope to live and survive still exsist- Though suppressed but not dead. But today at this point of night all appeared to be calm and silent with Khaki wearing constable going out on occasional beats trying their best to make normalcy return to the city which has been scarred by the blood of its brothers. At the other side of Sarojini Nagar one can see buses lined up in front of a big arch topped with a hoarding with- SAROJINI NAGAR DEPOT- written on it in bold letters. To one side of the depot Auto driver’s can seen sitting around their own bonfire’s warming themselves, occasionally looking all around as to get any late night auto seeker. As the last bus rolled on to the Sarojini Nagar Bus Depot parking itself into one of the its depliated shed, lights were put out and the gatekeeper locked the doors of the office along with going out for his daily patrolling around the Depot to see for any intruder. In those calm moments one can hear the steps the Gatekeeper’s shoes thumping hard on the tarred ground with his club occasionally giving jab at the the doors the the shed making a clanging sound as it collidede with its metal counterpart. Making sure that everything was in place and tip top as expected the assistant Gatekeeper called out to the HeadGuard to send out an all clear report to the Sarojini Nagar Thana and take the final clearance to leave the place and lock the gate. For a Brief moment the assistant guard looked on to that glass covered cabin where the HeadGuard was and getting a go ahead clearance from him he slowly pulled those big 2 gates which slided on the metal path to bang onto its collegue with a bang sending out shivers of sound wave’s into that cold night, apparently protesting to spend next 8 hours along with its patner till the normal activities are resumed by the end of the night.
The glass cabin of the head guard was entered by the assistant guard and the lights were put out, for them to fall into deep slumber, to swim in their own world of dreams neglecting the social reponsibity endowed upon them by the people elected Secular-Party Delhi govt. For next few moments everything was quiet and calm only with hooting’s of the owls which can be heard time to time. Nothing moved in that world of inanimate objects loaded with machines and long steel clad buses which found no use without their human masters. Yes, it was all quiet and calm as if the whole nature has joined along with the inhabitants of Delhi in their mourning for the life of the brothers whom they lost.
Shattering those moments of pristine silence a small sound seeped through those metallic sheets of the bus flowing out onto the depot like trickles of water flowing out of a usually dry Municipal tap. Crows crawed and owls hooted but the sound showed no sign of relenting and continued its journey out into the errie atmosphere of the depot, a sound which became louder and louder with every passing of every second. Distinct and clear it became over the passage of time, I with utmost sureity can say It was somebody crying, somebody in deep mental agony and pain, maybe crying out for loss he or she must have suffered in her past or maybe for the suffering that person has to undergo due to human ingratitude and the Evilness of the human heart lost in the world of its own injuired by social stigmas and socio-religious barriers.—HMM- Excuse You are reading my story Don’t be too much concerned with the whoever it was. Now let whatever be the reason me like author doesn’t care about it and now I want to tell you my own story.
“Tere bin Mey u kaise jiya kaise jiya tere bin-Tere bin mey u kaise jiya kaise jiya tere bin Lekar yaad teri ratte meri Katti Mujse batte teri karti hai Chandani ( Without how can I live without You how can I live Keeping your memories in my heart I spend each and every night I learn and talk about you with the moon).
As the romantic song of Atif Aslam blared through the loudspeaker’s of the Youth club Disco at Gurgaon with DJ ‘s doing mixing and matching along with the song. Zahira Shakeel Ahmed looked in to the eyes of the boy whom she has liked over the years. It was Anuj Kumar-taller than her, handsome, rippling muscle bulging out of Black T-shirt Streamlined onto his Nicely shaped Biceps, a 6-Packed Abs at the bottom with beads of black on his nicely chiseled face radiating masculinity who was looking back at her with a small spread across his Manly face. She herself was a specimen of a female beauty with big round eyes, dark,dense and short hair falling onto her shoulder with an angelic smile along with her Model like figure as she was indeed was an aspiring model. The story between them blossomed years ago on a Valentine’s day when they where still at school. It all happened quickly with He telling her that he likes her and she accepting him.A part of teenage fancy and attraction that every teenager feels during a particular phase of their growth. But over the years it has matured into a strong bond of love that has now bonded their hearts beyond one can break. Today was Valentines Day their 7th anniversary of love that has crossed the unpredictable path of teenage fantasies along with years of separation that they had to undergo due to their commitment to their studies and future. But now crossing all the barriers that came on the ways their story has delved itself into a love story of 60’s and 70’s in which love for them is not physical but a pure, emotional and a sacred one. Anuj was an IITian much respected and looked upon title, for which Crores and Crores of Student’s aspires and burns the midnight oil to enter into that hallowed institution called- INDIAN INSTITUTE OF TECHNOLOGY( By reading this Don’t get the impression that even I like It. I JUST HATE IT). Well, for Anuj it was not that tough as it is for others, a born genius and an extremely talented boy who cleared IIT at the first attempt itself with flying colors getting himself admitted into IIT-Delhi and landing himself comfortably into much competed and vied branch of Engineering called- Software Engineering.
Zahira was totally opposite; she hated science freaks and called them geeks, Herself a student of science at her intermediate level she scraped through her exams much due to influence of her father who was Secular party leader and landed herself into the field of fashion designing where now she was a hot-shot personality much adored for her attractive figure rather than her design.
But today they were not there to discuss anything about their carrier or future but to say each other an emotional goodbye, No-No, they were not breaking up but Anuj has got a placement in Microsoft and now was called to US for a prestigious project involving designing a website for the US presidential Hopeful and one of the Democratic nominee Barrack Obama. It was all so fast and quick that Anuj couldn’t get any time to say No and nor he wanted to say so. He was to leave US the very next day and there was hardly any time left to callof his plans. So that is why he was there sitting with Zahira trying to convince her to let him go as it has been his long drawn ambition. “Zahira try to understand I cannot let this go, It has been my wish all these years. I really want to go” Anuj pleaded. “But if you go won’t you change forever and become and Americanized guy with no respect and regard for your own country” Said Zahira Her nose flaring up at the mention of the word “Americanized”. She was a girl who was extremely patriotic and loved her country to her core much because of her father who was a Secular Party Leader and an MP from Allahabad. “Come on Zahira don’t be stupid. What will you get by staying in India wherein you have no future” Anuj Said totally amused by Zahira
“Well mister Let me remind you that your IIT is not in Florida or in Silicon Valley where you are going to go. It is right here- IN INDIA” She said those last two words with such force that Anuj was virtually shaken. Her aggressive nature has now done them a favour of attracting the attention of a group of bouncers who were standing there at the beverage counter. One of them stepped forward and said “What is the problem M’am? Should we interfere”. “No thank you, its our personal problem, Let us go from here Anuj” She said getting up to leave. Anuj followed her and within seconds they both were out in the car of Zahira. “Well Zahira it doesn’t make sense and I don’t understand what you see in this poor poverty stricken country that you support it so much. but for me it is a land of snake charmers and Poverty with Corrupt and inefficient leaders leading it. I don’t want to put my own future at risk by staying here. I don’t want to offend you but I cant what you are telling me to do. I Love you but please don’t do this to me” Anuj said it all at one breath and turned over other side to stare out of car’s window. Zahira looked at her Boyfriend whom she had long know to be running behind money, and it was exactly the reason that he wanted to get into IIT and he was always a man who dreamed of US and As far she can understand it was not his mistake also and his eagerness to go to US and work there was understandable., his father was a Govt servant earning a meager salary of 5000 per month with which he has to look after the studies of his son, his 3 daughters one of whom is a divorcee and the other two were newly married but widowed and his wife who for most part of the year is sick. Their son is their only hope and they all were clinging onto him as their own path salvation from the problems they were in. Zahira extended her hand and landed it softly on to the face of her boyfriend and pulled him over to her side and said “I am not opposed to you for going to US only I fear that I will loose you if you go to that attractive and mesmerizing country. I lost my brother to that country. I don’t want to loose you”. Two drops of tears rolled down her flawless face washing away a thin layer of makeup on it. Anuj wiped her tears with his fingers and said “Don’t ever worry about that dear, I will always be close to you and it is only a matter of few month after which I will come back and tell about you to my parents”
As the music stormed out of the Youth club with its visitors heavily drunk and exhausted flowing out stumbling to their cars that was the last thing they both spoke in that Reva. With lights switched off in that dark corner of the parking slot lit by a faint moonlight reaching one can see the symbol of a Secular Political Party, Raised palm tricolored, shining on the dark windscreen of that car.
“Ho Ho Ho Ho” That old man coughed like a Santa as if greeting his dear children whom he selects every Christmas. His white untidy beards shaking vigorously under the impact of his cough. The hand which covered his mouth was wet with sputum that came out of his mouth and he slowly wiped it on his tattered sand coloured lohi which covered his Huge imposing body. “So was this the reason that you were going to commit suicide” He said to Zahira Shakeel Ahmed who was sitting on an old tyre kept at one corner of that crumbling Shack. Her face was wet with tears covering herself in a brown maroon shawl with which she had crept in to the bus depot narrowly avoiding the beam of the torch of the gatekeeper and hiding herself in the old tarpaulin sheet that she got at one of the Bus shed. She has run away from her house all the way from Allahabad to hide herself somewhere in the wilderness of Delhi from the goons of her father who were out on prowl after her parents discovered her love affair with Anuj. They found out about the family of Anuj but before they could get them Anuj managed to pull them off to US. But she was now left alone in that crumbling shack of that old man whom she had not expected to meet. He was a Chowkidar who was unofficially given the duty to look after the Depot when the guards to whom the job belonged slept peacefully. He was wearing an old khaki colored pant and a faded olive green army combat suit and covered himself with a Kashmiri sand coloured lohi which he must have got during his days in the Army. Hearing the sound of somebody crying he came up to check and that was when he found out Zahira sitting in one corner trying to muster up courage to put an odd looking yellow tablet into her mouth. With years of his experience he understood what she was upto and stopped her from doing that heinous act. Taking her along with him to a temporary shed that he had built for himself adjacent to the wall of the depot he was kind enough to offer her a cup of hot coffee and then finally asked her the reason for all this.
Zahira sat quietly with tears rolling down her eyes. She mumbled out few words which that old man couldn’t understand. “Arrey Bahi uchha bolo, Meein bhuddha ho gaya hu” He said in a resigned voice. She could say nothing to this and before she could say or do anything she decided to drink that cup of coffee which that Man gave to her so lovingly. A few moments of silence passed with the only noise of Zahira Sipping her Coffee. Old man waited patiently for her to get setteled and let her come out with the story which troubled her so much. Min’s passed when she finished and finally retuning the cup to the old man’s hand she took out her purse and dug her hand into it to come out with all the rubbish that you can usually find in the purse of a lady- Lipstick, mirror, Tablets, pen, A sheet of paper- Paper- Yes, paper, a sheet of Long white paper Badly folded with-KMK HOSPITALS-written on top it. With 2 red crosses which has been the symbol of hope for the people all these years drawn on both side of it something was written in running hand writing with black ink on it. She opened that paper properly and stretched her hand to hand it over to that old man who took it from her. Searching for an old broken spectacle of which one of the legs was a thin stretch metal, he found it with difficulty and then with his shivering hands he put it on his eyes and looked down at the paper. Giving a brief glance and looking down to the conclusion that was written at the bottom he folded it back and handed it back to Zahira. “Hmm So that is the case! When did you get it and when did he tell you about it?” Said The old man thinking deep
Zahira was sitting on her computer searching out for Anuj who was expected to be online. She was waiting for him all the time only to end up to see that he has sent her an E-mail message. She opened up her Google account typed in her password and pressed enter. Few min’s of waiting passed until her account opened.
She saw several notifications of Orkut telling her she has received scraps from her friends online. But for her it was not important and she scrolled down to look for the E-mail sent to her by her beloved. Finding it out trapped in between the notifications of Orkut she clicked and waited holding her breath waiting anxiously- And- The Email to opened- TO READ-
My dear Zahira,
I am writing this to tell you what I have hidden from you all these years. I feel guilty of what I have done and don’t have the courage to face you or to even to talk to you about it. Zahira you might remember during my years in IIT I went to Mumbai for a brief stay at IIT-Powai. There I fell into trap of some bad company and they made me to do what I never dreamed about. They made-made me a patient of AIDS. And Unwillingly I gave it to you that night. I will not say sorry and nor I will say- forgive me but I only ask you to give me what ever punishment you can give me. I will soon be sending you a plane ticket and you can come over here to do what ever you want to do me. I choose America because here for such crime I will get maximum punishment and justice will be speedy. So please come and do what ever you want to do with me.
Your loving-Anuj
It was the last time when she saw her computer or her room or her mother or her house from then onwards she was chased by her father when he accidently opened her computer and got to know about all this. From there she headed straight to Her Doctor friend Mrs. Priya Nair who confirmed it and from then onwards she was on run-from her father, from the police from, the goons sent by her father.
Now she was there sitting along with that old man crying over her lost love, her future and her family. To be stigmatized and shunned by the society if they ever get to know the virus that she carries. “So you are running away from the problem, from the mess you youself created leaving others to mop up the garbage you created. Did you ever think bout Your poor dad how broken and embarrassed he will be if anybody ever get to know this. How much trouble you will put Anuj in- The man who you loved so much all these years and who loves you and readily admits the mistake he committed and is ready to take the Retribution. Leave them all aside think about those poor watchmen who would have to answer for the act that would have commited” Said the old man shrilly. Zahira broke into fresh sobs crying louder than earlier. Her cries filled up the room but the old man did not console her apparently of the view that she should cry her heart out. With final moments of nights breaking out and decending down into day Old man got up and said “What ever has happened has happened but instead of throwing away your life like this- start it afresh. Go back and mop up the mess you yourself have created”
As the sun broke up the night to let the final rays of the sun invade the corners of the world a thin stream of light seeped into the house of that old man through the gaps on the sheet covering his house. “Aaj ka din bahut acha hai, aaj jo cristmas hai(Today is good day as today is Christmas)” with this that old man left that crumbling house leaving Zahira to ponder over what he said.
EPILOGUE-
It was a morning of september 22nd with sun shining bright and birds chirpping on the trees of the jamun tree of the Ahmed residence. It was the 5th anniversary of what was most important in the life of small Noor Ahmed Patel. A girl of 10 she was wearing a white frock looking like an angel who decended down from the heaven to bless the Ahmed family and the Patel family with small happiness in their life after the depressing times they had and let me tell you she indeed was an angel who threw up first case in the history of Medical Science wherein a girl didn’t get the AIDS virus from her mother much. She was indeed a gift of god born to reclaim the lost glory of the Ahmed family which I will clear in the next part of the story. That small chuby cute looking girl walked over to a grave in the middle of a huge lawn of the Ahmed residence holding the hands of her Grandfather and stopped at it. She looked down at the grave and bend down to put the flower that she was holding onto it . They both stood there for few mins or so and then turned over to leave the place where one can see something inscribed on a granite painted Green to one side Saffron to other and white in the Middle.
IN THE LOVING MEMORY OF-
Zhakira Ahamed Patel and Anuj Ahmed Patel who in their life and death has proved what true love friendship Humanity and Secularism is.
Yes, afte Zhakira met that old man she came back to Allahabad to face her father and confess of her mistake and tell him about the disease that she was carrying. Her father although resented her but then finally accepted he learned that daughter was dying day by day. Zahira was eventually married to Anuj who gifted her with a baby girl and named it Noor Ahmed(Patel was added later on by Zahira’s father). They both opened up and NGO named (PARIVARTAN) worked for the people affected by the deadly diseases-AIDS of which they died, but within few years they opened their NGO, it got world wide recognition including a Humanitarian prize from UN for being able to make difference in the life of many like them . For Zahira’s father it was the end of his political carrier and he lost his next election even though he received the full support of his party’s Secular Leaders and workers later he took up the unfinished job of his daughter and under him their NGO really extended Parivartan to the lifes of many.
And as for that old man, He never existed nor there was any such shack or house built adjacent to the wall of that Bus depot. But then who is he?- Well I leave that question to you to ponder about. Not clueless, but with certain clue that I have left in a line of the story. If you ever get- it is upto to you wether to believe or not to believe but as an author I tell you I Do believe in him. As symbol of- Hope, Faith and Love.