Friday, February 23, 2007

Love, Tainted?

He seemed happy today as he quietly played solitaire on the new laptop. Raghav stole sometime from his books and just about managed to catch his fading smile. Raghav looked at the clock, "One hour", he muttered, "how much more time!" Raghav was getting impatient. He was finding it difficult to concentrate on his studies as the presence of his father distracted him. Finally it happened, he got bored of solitaire and unable to find the laptop of any more use for the time being, he shut close the machine and zipped it up. He left the room and Raghav let the tension ease. In another hour or so he would leave for work and it would leave Raghav relaxed and unfortunately, happy!

Raghav again felt guilty for this happiness. The loss of respect for his own father bothered Raghav. It left him confused, not sure if it was right to have these negative feelings. The care and abundant love for the son was all obvious but his father's loose morals, his laziness, his cowardice and his way of life had affected Raghav's feelings towards him. It had made him look like a man of no values and that left Raghav frustrated to the core!

Raghav recalled the conversation he had had with his mother a few months back, "So how can we afford all this", he'd asked. "What do you mean?", she'd asked, confused. "Well", he said, "we have the latest electronic gadgets always, we have 3 cars, we live a lavish life, don't we?" He'd chosen to ignore the disturbed look on her face as he'd continued, "one of my friends the other day questioned me as to how we are able to afford all this. Although I'd just laughed him away, his question has been really haunting me since and today I demand answers!" He'd felt a tremor pass through him and his legs tremble, but he'd continued, "I want to know how much do you invest and how are the household expenses split between.." "What do you think?", she'd cut him. "I don't know and so I'm asking. I thought over it and as per my knowledge, he doesn't earn more than Rs.30,000 and we cannot be earning more than Rs.20,000 from the interest cheques. We were never into stock market, so our monthly earnings.." "Why do you think we fight so often?" Raghav had anticipated the answer to his questions even before his mother had said it but he still had to be sure before he jumped to any conclusions. Too stunned to think, he'd continued, "..cannot be more than.. and our monthly expenditure is certainly.." "Raghav", she'd stopped him, "Don't you understand? Isn't it too obvious to you yet? If not then why don't you ask your father the same question, I would really like to know his say on this." Raghav had stared at his mother, he had been too disturbed to be still, he had felt it all too unbearable, he'd felt filth all around him, he'd felt cheated, he'd felt disgusted! It had made him lose all the respect he'd held for his father for all these years! "So I was fed on tainted money all my life? My education, my books, everything has been paid out of that bribed money?" "No! I worked so I could feed you, I worked so I could educate you, the money spent to raise you was earned by me. Don't worry, I raised you". There was nothing more to say, Raghav had quickly hugged his mother, he had been in tears, he'd looked at the woman who'd stuck to her principles and was still able to give him all the comforts that he'd ever demanded, whereas his father went on to live a valueless life! He'd felt betrayed then. He'd always thought his father to be a clean guy, now he'd felt cheated! Hadn't it been for his mother then, he would've had quit his home.

Cowardice or maturity, he wasn't sure, but he felt he'd done the right thing then cause he was later to learn that his father had helped numerous people with the same money. His father had actually been a God to all the needy workers who worked under him for a petty Rs.30 per day. He had spent on paying school fees for their kids, he'd spent on paying for their hospital bills, he'd taken care of them like his own family. All of them were helped without even them asking him for the same. His father had before tried to refuse 'the money', but the same had gone in someone else's pocket under the name of his father. Therefore, his father had sketched a simple policy, he would accept the money, though he would never demand the same, no matter what, this would never affect his work, he would always give it a 100%. Raghav had learnt this from a visiting labourer who'd come to thank his father for all the good that he had done to him. It had left Raghav a bit relieved.

Raghav never expected his father to be a rebel, the one who would stand up and fight against the corruption, but he still expected his father to be strong, a man with principles, a man who had it in him to say "NO" to temptations. However, Raghav had come to terms with the man his father was, and though the labourer had arrested and almost driven away all the hatred he had towards his father, he was unable to restore the lost respect.

Monday, February 12, 2007

My Room

Firstly, this post is inspired by this brilliant post written by Ms. Red on her blog. So thank you Ms. Red!

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If I have to describe my room then in one word I will term it as my "prison", but it is so amazingly beautiful that I would never want to leave it.

It's a simple structure really, nearly a square-shaped construction with the entrance and the window facing each other and the ugly-looking-and-a-total-misfit computer table (actually made to place a television but my dad somehow thought there wasn't much of a difference between a computer table and a TV trolley.. but that's another story) to the left of the window and a white coloured fixed-to-the-wall study table bang opposite this ugly PC table (on which the PC rests of course). These windows are forever closed as the rodents visit our building pretty often and they take a sneak-peek at me during night times - those voyeurs! Besides I prefer keeping the curtains closed as my PC screen faces the window and my neighboring aunt can easily view what plays on my PC screen, so just in case she may get all embarrassed, I keep her from seeing the same. Then my guitar lies to the right of the table which is right next to my chair where my butt rests for 14 (if not 16) hours of the day. In totality there are 3 chairs in my room - one of the chairs is adopted from the dining room on which the clothes rest, the second one is the last remaining piece of furniture from my old PC trolley (which actually was a PC trolley but broke due to.... sorry! the reasons shall remain undisclosed) and this chair offers rest to my college-sack-cum-haversack and the guitar cover. The third chair, which I use to rest my ass on, is part of some old furniture from dining room, which I refused to part with due to its high-comfort level! Then there are 6 cupboards in all of which 2 are fixed to the white study table and used for storing clothes, memorabilia and other undisclosed matter and remaining the remaining 4 cupboards are used to store books. The study table has 4 never-to-be-opened drawers since they won't close without the intervention of an expert hand! Also the cupboards used for storing my clothing etc. is kept locked as a precautionary measure from being charged of murder or an attempt to murder by the family of an innocent unsuspecting being who might just open them without a prior warning. The books are neatly arranged though in the cupboards and that is the cleanest part of my room. However the cupboards hold books from the 12th grade to my 2nd sem LLB plus encyclopedia and other miscellaneous books which have let the shelves to reach the optimum capacity that they can hold and hence the study table is filled up by books from the rest of the semesters. Besides these, the table also provides a resting place for half-read novels, never-read novels and nearly-done-with novels mixed with a black diary. The other stuff that lays on this table will be some newspaper articles, 3 idols of Ganpati, a few deodorant bottles, a telephone, my cellphone, cell phone charger, torches, wallet, guitar picks and an old keyboard.

Note: You won't find a bed in my room. I got rid of it some 4 years ago when I rated it as some useless piece of furniture after discovering that sleeping on the floor was the best way to fight the mumbai heat and thus earn myself a sound sleep!

On my door hinges hangs 2 never-used leather belts and a couple of never-used paper bags, I fail to recall the day when these things started "hanging-out" on these hinges! Nicely hidden and stuck on the wall behind this door is my never-read and referred to exercise schedule sketched by me some 4 years ago.

My maid is happiest while cleaning my room since she can barely step in it, so cleaning the place is out of question; also after the murderous look I gave when she nearly fell my guitar, she refrains from touching any of my "personals" and let them lay astray!

My friends on coming over are either forced to import chairs from other rooms or they rest their bums on the floor. My bozo relatives see a totally different world from its "outside" when they step into my room. Their eyes can barely believe the sight and I've heard rumors of them asking each other if they've stepped in someone else's house by mistake!

This beautiful room was designed some 15 years ago and the walls carry the old torn posters of Peugeot and 1998 Maclaren Merc. A Floyd and a Metallica poster was torn to pieces by some unclaimed body and the investigations to find the criminal are still on for 4 years now.

Finally, I love my room! Thank you mommy and daddy for gifting me such a wonderful room! Love ya! :)

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Here is an artist's impression of my room.. well... almost!