Thirty Days, Thirty Memories - The End of Blogging Game

Today is the last day of the blogging game that was started last month on 31^st July. The game started with the request of my friend to write real experience / memories of life for thirty days. The discussion started with lighter vein ended with condition where I found myself in‘No lose situation’. I had to write thirty blogs from real life experience and I would get books worth of three thousand rupees. It was indeed a nice condition where a friend paying you writing a blog on your blog page. I thank my friend for initiating such move that made me to write blog continuously for thirty-one days.

When I was writing, I decided not to write about my theatre journey/ experience so far, experience as a radio drama artist, some failed/ small-scaled entrepreneurship venture, my last alma mater and last five-year job experience / and freelancing experience. Expect one or two time, above-mentioned period did not feature in my blog. In future, I want to write elaborately about above-mentioned experience, in my autobiography or autobiography based fiction. It all depends upon how my life shapes up in coming one and half decade.

During last thirty days, I revisited my childhood, schools, colleges, village, hospital, Airfoce station and felt like reliving that life. I observed I forgot the names of many people with whom I had interacted / used to interact but their face, voice, gesture and posture still intact in my mind. When I started recounting, I felt their visuals are as fresh in my mind as today’s Morning.

My friend suggested me to publish these memories in eBook form under title ‘Thirty days, thirty memories’. This suggestion deserves worth attention, but I do not know whether my memories can be an interesting read or it has any literary value. After publishing the blog, I used to get around twenty-five clicks on my blog page immediately. I thank those people who visited my blog and read it. I feel a strange kind of happiness to see the title of the blog of last thirty days. The titles, I am sharing below-

                    I.            Blogging Game

                 II.            ICU and The Old Man

               III.            The Beggar Girl

              IV.            Right Help to a Wrong Person

                 V.            Hoax SMS, Call & Parable

              VI.            SSQ, Shenaz and My Love

            VII.            Scooter, Horse and Our Teacher

         VIII.            Adult Film in Cinema Hall

              IX.            My Tryst with Weapon and Range Firing

                 X.            My First Earning

              XI.            Pond, Ghost and I

            XII.            Ek Chhoti si Village Love Story

         XIII.            Didi, Books and I

         XIV.            My Friend and His Love Interest

           XV.            The Announcer

         XVI.            My Grandfather and His Memories of Independence Period

      XVII.            The Poet in Our School

    XVIII.            The Examination and the Communication Gap

         XIX.            The Political Activist

           XX.            Snakes, Nagpanchami & Blessings

         XXI.            The Love Letter in English

      XXII.            The Kidnapping

    XXIII.            My Friend and the Left Hand Writing

   XXIV.            The Summer Holidays

      XXV.            The Holidays in Savan Month

   XXVI.            Chicken Pox and The Sitla Maa

 XXVII.            The Social Worker

XXVIII.            Delhi and The Russian Girl

   XXIX.            The Old Farmer and The Rakas

      XXX.            Rakshabandhan and Sisters

~~~ Ramanuj Dubey 

Rakshabandhan and sisters ...

This is the story of more than decade back. I was in defense (Indian Air Force) then. It was occasion of Raksha bandhan and we were celebrating the festival in the billet. My sister had sent me the rakhi well in advance and in letter, she had mentioned auspicious timing for tying it on the wrist.  I was trying to tie the rakhi on the wrist by myself but I was struggling with it. One of my colleagues saw it and came to me. “Do not tie the rakhi until I come”- he commanded. He came after half an hour. He brought one big decorated thali in his hand and the thali had an earthen lamp, curd smeared with vermilion, sweets, fruits and few rakhi. He took my rakhi and put it in the thali.  After that, he put the curd smeared vermilion on my forehead, tied the rakhi and fed the rosgoola in my mouth. When tying ritual was over, he demanded gift. “Where is my gift? I completed the work of didi, I also deserve gift”- he reasoned.  His demand made me laugh and what so ever money I had in my pocket I put it on the thali. He rejoiced to see my leniency. There were many friends, whose rakhi could come on time and they were a bit low and disappointed that day. He tied the rakhi to other friends too and he made them happy. In evening, we celebrated party with the collected money.
That was indeed memorable raksha bandhan festival and my friend’s innovative effort brought smile on many faces that day.

My elder sister has unique way to celebrate this festival. She ties rakhi to me whenever I meet her and prays for my safety and well-being. On Rakshabandhan day, generally she would call and bless me. I have many cousin sisters, they used to tie me rakhi when I was in Bihar. Interestingly, at present I am not in communication with any one of them. Even though I am not in touch with them from long, I remember them on this occasion and  wish all happiness to them.

Besides my sibling and my cousin sisters, I have few sisters who are not my blood relative but they are as dear to me as my own sister is. They all came in my life during my distress period, helped me and gave me mental and emotional support. When I look back, I feel, they were and have been extremely good to me and I have not done anything even to acknowledge their goodness. I thank god to bring such nice souls in my life and pray for their well being and happiness.

Without fail, I have been receiving rakhi from one of my sisters from more than last ten years. She is my friend’s sister and I met with her when I was admitted in Air force command hospital Bangalore. My friend’s family (his parents and siblings) used to visit me regularly there. During my hospitalization period, they acted as my local guardian. Two days before, I received her letter and rakhi. The letter was in calligraphy and I remembered she had taught me calligraphy. I became quite emotional. This is the only rakhi that I have received this year. I thank her from the bottom end of my heart for sending the rakhi and remembering me.

~~~ Ramanuj Dubey

The Old Farmer and The Rakas

It was winter evening and I was coming from the field. There were paddy crops in the field and it was ready for cutting. Generally, I was not very much interested in agricultural activities but I liked to visit the field during harvest time. The ripe standing crops everywhere in field used to give a different kind of happiness to me. In evening, I would stand in the middle of the field and spend long time there, feel scent of the paddy and enjoy the winter breeze.

I was walking on the narrow lane of field to return home, I heard somebody called out my name. When I turned back, I saw the old man, a fellow villager whose agriculture land was adjacent to our land. When he came near to me, I greeted him and he blessed me profusely for my polite behavior. He was happy as I obeyed him, hearing his voice I stopped and then greeted him. We almost walked half kilometer in the field and then we reached to main road. After reaching main road, I saw him panting. He looked exhausted.

“We should rest for few minutes and start”- I said to him and he agreed. We sat on the ground. He explained that he overworked that day, so he was tired. Suddenly he asked – “I see you visit field regularly, that also in late evening, sometimes night, have you seen any ghost in the field?”
I answered him in negative. I saw he looked pleased as he was expecting this answer.
“How will you see the ghosts? All notorious and infamous ghosts of the village have taken birth in my tola (colony). They all have become alive.”- He told.
I laughed listening to his logic. He protested – “do not laugh. You are not familiar with them, so you are laughing. If you will see their deeds, then you will believe me”. He narrated the story how one lad of his colony had been continuously harassing and troubling him. In the end he concluded – “There was an infamous ghost in our time; he used to disturb everybody who would go to field in night. Last time we heard his distressing deeds before the birth of the lad. I suspect the lad is the ghost who has taken birth as human.”

“Baba, have you seen any ghost?”- I tried to change the subject. “No, but I have experienced many time. Have you seen wind, no, but you experience it. Aren’t you? Like the same” then he added- “there was a jinn in east side of the field. Hindu dead whose soul do not rest in peace or take rebirth become ghost like the same Muslim dead become jinn. He was Muslim, people say he was killed by his enemy and buried in the field. He was a Shayar and Kawwal (Poet & Singer) and he would catch people who would cross the field and make them listen to his shayri and Kawwalli for hours. People would get senseless for hours after listening him. When his troubles became very often, then one local maulvi was consulted and he did appropriate rituals. After that we have not heard about him.”

“But Baba, So far you have not seen any ghost.”-  I spoke in teasingly tone. 

He admitted – “true, I have not seen any ghost but once I met a Rakas.”
“Rakas”?  I have heard about rakshas (demons) but never heard about ‘Rakas’.
He explained – “when a Brahmin dies and due to sin or unfulfilled wish if he does not get rebirth or salvation then he becomes Rakas. Rakas do not kill people but trouble a lot. Unlike ghost, Rakas cannot be dispelled by chanting religious scriptures. If a person manages to cut the lock of hair and preserve it, then the person can get the every work done from him, but it is not easy to reach up to a rakas’s hair.”
I was amused to know the hierarchy among the ghosts. His story was getting interesting. I asked – “tell me how you met with the Rakas?”
He narrated – “I was in mid twenty at that time. Fearless and adventurous. That was winter and paddy crop was ripe in the field. I woke up, saw moon and felt it was about to morning. I took sickle and went to field. When I was cutting the crops, suddenly I saw a big shadow. When I lifted my head, I saw a big fat man around twenty feet tall standing before me. I started chanting hanuman chalisa, but that chanting had no affect on him. Then I realized he was not a ghost but a rakas. He demanded water from me but I was freezed to see him. He snatched the sickle from my hand and threw in other field. I became senseless. I must have been senseless for two three hours. When I woke up, I saw, it was still night. I searched my sickle and ran towards home. Next day, I took a bottle of Gangajal (holy water of river Ganga) to the field and summoning the rakas poured it there. After that, I never saw him. . I did not mention the incident to family or others. You are the first man before whom I am revealing this story”. Then he added- “that year I had bumper harvest. My wife gave birth to a son and I purchased land too. That year was very beneficial year to me.”

It was getting dark. We had taken enough rest there. We again started for home and I observed the old man was looking cheerful to share his story to me.

~~~ Ramanuj Dubey

Delhi and The Russian Girl ...

This is the story of eight to ten years back. I was waiting for auto at mandi house bus stand, Delhi. I saw a foreigner girl on the bench waiting for transport. She was in her early twenty, wearing salwar kamiz; she was gorgeous and looking vulnerable. I approached her and asked where she wanted to go. I came to know that she was from Russia, came here to attend short-term course in kathak dance and she wanted to go railway station. I was going to railway station only but I did not reveal to her.

After ten minutes of our conversation, an auto stopped at the bus stand. I bargained with auto driver for auto fare to railway station. Before I got into the auto, I told the girl – “I am going to railway station only. If you want to join me, you may come”. She looked indecisive for few second then she came and sat in the auto. When I was bargaining with auto driver for fare, he had not noticed the girl. He turned from his seat to look back and gave a lascivious look at her. Adjusting the mirror so that he could see the back seat clearly, he commented – “tanch mal hai (the girl is very sexy)”. I admonished him to mind his business. The girl was sitting very close to me but after that, she moved to the corner of the seat, and kept her face towards outside. She kept herself in that position until we reached railway station. After reaching railway station, she almost jumped from the auto, and without looking at us or saying anything, she entered the railway station. I felt her behavior strange. Perhaps, she noticed the vulgar gesture of auto driver and did not trust us.

Next day evening I was in front of Shri ram centre and having snacks. There I met a person who was from Bihar and living in the MP (Member of Parliament) Quarters that was just one kilometer far away from there. The MP, with whom he was associated with, was a famous leader and well known for his dabang politics (The leader is still an MP). He was familiar with my area and knew many influential people of that region. He told that he had written many lyrics for MP Sahib and sung too. His songs were used in the MP Sahib’s election campaign.  He sang few lines of the election song, and out of courtesy, I praised him. He took me to nearby fruit juice shop and offered me apple juice. When we were having apple juice, I saw the Russian girl coming towards us. She greeted me and apologized for yesterday. She told she had some urgent work and she was so preoccupied with it that she could not even thank me. I felt she was compensating yesterday’s behavior. I introduced my new friend as a well-known folk singer of Bihar. She expressed her desire to listen folk songs. We sat on the pavement. I was sitting in the middle and the girl was one side and our singer on the other side. The singer sahib changed his seat, sat beside the girl, and started singing. He came very close to her face and with closed eyes started singing election song. It was appearing as if he would enter into the girl’s mouth. Either he was pretending, or he was so engrossed in his song that he was unable to see the discomfort of the girl. The moment he finished the song, she got up and said to me “I have some urgent work to finish. I have to go now. Bye.” After saying that, she left the place.

My new friend looked unaffected by this incident. He shared his experience with foreign girl. “Last year two American girls had come to interview MP Sahib. I was in charge of looking after them. They became very good friend of me. They took many photographs of me, video recorded my songs. One girl even offered me sex but I did not agree. I am living at MP quarter, if anything goes wrong MP Sahib’s name will be spoiled. If I stayed somewhere else, I would not have refused her offer.” I did not respond, as I was not interested in his fantasy.

After two days, I was in Sri Ram centre bookstore, purchased few books and magazine. After purchasing, I went to canteen for coffee. When I was sipping coffee, I saw the Russian girl there. After seeing me, she came to my seat. She conveyed that she was planning to visit Banaras and Kolkata before leaving India. She wanted to see the book I purchased; I pushed all the books and magazine towards her. All books and magazines were in Hindi except one. That was  a weekly magazine in English. She started turning the pages of the magazine and read few pages of it. Suddenly she got up and without telling anything she left. I waited for her almost an hour. Her peculiar behavior was beyond my understanding. I picked up the magazine and tried to found out what she was reading. I found an article about thriving Russian prostitute business in Delhi. Perhaps, after reading the article she left from there suddenly.

After that, I stayed fifteen days more in Delhi but I did not see her. I do not know whether she was a genuine student, traveler or prostitute (?) but she looked very insecure in the city. I still remember her strange behavior and justify it with the ‘perhaps’ reasoning. It was true; her peculiar behavior bothered me and lingered in my mind for long.

~~~ Ramanuj Dubey

The Social Worker ..

I was waiting for train to arrive at the railway station. The train was almost four hours late .I was in perplexed mood whether I should spend four hours at station or come back home and again reach to the station on time. Before I could decide, a person sat beside me on the bench and warmly greeted me. I saw he was around forty years old, clad in payjama and khadi kurta, a cloth bag was slung over his shoulder and a diary was in his hand. After greeting, he gave a broad smile to me . he looked vaguely familiar to me. I tried to recognize him, put pressure on mind but unable to remember him. I cursed my poor memory and with apology I asked- “sorry, I am unable to recognize you. Do we know each other? Could you tell me where we have met?
He gave a loud laugh on my question. He answered – “See, how this world has changed today. This time people expect you to know him even for greetings, earlier it was not so. I do not know you, but you appear a gentle man, so I sat beside you.”

He introduced himself a social worker. He spoke in loud voice- “After independence of our country, we progressed in every field, we installed factories, created big dam, manufactured many things and tried to become self reliant. We opened up many schools, colleges and institution of national & international repute and got many doctors, engineers, teachers and scientists.” It appeared as if he was delivering a speech before a big crowd. I was feeling like a fool sitting beside him. I interrupted him, “what are you speaking, this is cliché, we know about it .What do you want to say?” He looked unhappy and he expressed it – “I do not appreciate, if my flow of thought is interrupted” and quickly added- “see, what I want to say is, we progressed in every field since independence but our country witnessed a drastic reduce in number of volunteers and social workers. India got independence because of big leaders and volunteers and social workers. After independent, nobody cared to become real social worker, that why India has so many problems. If every village has ten social workers, the fate of country will be completely different.”

The person, who was claiming himself a social worker, looked very interesting. His idea was not confined to just village, block or district, what he was telling, he was telling about pan India. Within twenty minutes of his speech, he explained a road map how our country would get rid of every problem through social workers. According to him, India could become world leader again, if the large number of people volunteered to be   social workers. He kept on speaking without any break, I tried to interrupt him, contradict him on three –four times, but he did not allow me to do so. It was one-way communication and he appeared satisfied with it.

He continuously spoke for half an hour and then suddenly he took a big pause. Perhaps he realized, in last five minutes, he was repeating himself, or seeing me uninterested tried to involve me. I utilized his pause and spoke - “I agree with you partially. We need social workers but this is just one but important element for community development. I want to know your contribution to society as social worker. By smile I guessed, He was waiting for his question. He asked –“Do you have at least one hour to see my work for society. I hate those who leave in mid day, when I elaborately discuss my work”. I saw the watch. Still train was late for three hours. I said- “I have sufficient time to listen you, please carry on”.

He put the diary in the cloth bag and took out a book from it. Handing over the book on my hand, he said – “see it; this is my first book on social issues”. I checked the book; it contained around eighty pages, published by local publisher. On the first page of the book, the social worker was with a local leader who was M.L.A till last election. In next page, his photograph was with a local singer who was notorious for singing raunchy songs. Next few pages contained songs and rest pages were full of his own kind of arguments about social workers. Before I could comment anything, he spoke – “Bidhayak ji (Ex- M.L.A) was very impressed with my idea and he encouraged me to write and got this book published. The singer wanted to sing my song and I gave him my permission for it. Very soon, song album will be out and my song will change the environment of this area.” After that, he spoke at length about his close relation with leaders, officers and culture people of the area. I changed the subject – “very nice! I am very impressed with your work. Do you have any organization?”

He was encouraged to hear me. He kept the book in the bag, pulled a folder, and opened it. The folder had many recommendation letters on his name.  Every letter was started with -To whomsoever it may concern. He started showing me. “See, the first one is given by the M.L.A sahib; he feels my kind of committed worker can change the society. If he had not lost the election, I would have added many social workers to the society now”. Next recommendation letter was written by a public relation officer of not so famous organization. Other two letters were from the professor of his college. Besides that, he showed me some paper cuttings and some photographs. He was showing the photographs to me, and explaining the occasion when it was taken. All occasions had no relation with any social work but I did not object. When he was exhausted with folder then very politely he spoke – “now do you agree or not, we need more social worker to change this country.”
I found no reason to prove him wrong. “Certainly we need more people like you for the society”- saying so, I got up from the seat, picked up my luggage and walked towards retiring room.

~~~ Ramanuj Dubey

Chicken Pox and The Sitla Maa

When I woke up that morning, I was feeling headache, mild fever and a strange sensation on my face. I picked up the sipper that was on the stool nearby my bed and drank the water. After drinking water, I stretched my hand to other side of the bed for small mirror. I was horrified to see my face in the mirror; there were many small pimples/ blisters sprouted on it. I was feeling itching sensation on them. I called my sister in law- “bhabhi, please come here. See, what happened to my face.”
Immediately she came and inspected my face. She exclaimed – “This is not any disease, Sitla Maa has come to you”. I could not understand what she was telling. Meanwhile, my brother came to the room and checked my face. He assured me – “no need to be panic. It appears that you have chicken pox. You will be all right within a week.  Bhabhi corrected my brother- “this is clear sign of Sitla Maa, please do not say it a disease .  We need to follow certain rules in home for a week, by the grace of Sitla maa, everything will be fine”. 
“But this is chicken pox, what is harm in saying disease a disease”- I asked.
“I am not illiterate or fool. This suffering is due to Sitla Maa, and this can be cured through devotion and traditional method only. I have seen adverse effect of medicine on such cases. Please do not argue and let me do my work.”- Very politely she spoke. I realized that my Bhabhi is as traditional as my mother is. I did not argue further.

Photo taken during chicken pox

Immediately, she got my room cleaned. She herself dusted my bookshelf, computer and bed. When room was thoroughly washed, cleaned and wiped then she hanged few leaves of neem around my bed. She wiped my face, gave me boiled food to eat and requested me not to come out but stay in that room for next seven days. She prepared an isolated ward for me in the house. She requested my brother not to bring onion, garlic, spices and other items that was prohibited during this period. Whole family was having boiled food during that time and following other rules like  not giving alms to beggar, not sharing food or giving any eatable items to other family. My sister in law was as strict guardian to me as my brother was but that time she was at my disposal all time. Interestingly, she would address me ‘maa’ during that period.  When I protested, she laughed – “those who suffer due to Sitla Maa, should be address as maa. This is the tradition. If you do not like it, please do not pay heed to it.This is just a matter of one week.” I was feeling myself Stranger in the house.

Meanwhile, my sister in law phoned and informed about me to my mother who was in the village. My mother talked over phone and consoled me. There is a Sitla sthan (temple -Abode of Sitla maa) in the village. My mother arranged a priest to visit the temple and worship for me to propitiate the goddess. In village, too, every member followed the rules and rituals associated with this disease. Even though my family was religious, but we believed in doctors and medicines with prayers. Dealing with chickenpox in this manner was certainly an isolated case. I called my friend who was a student of local medical college and explained everything, he said – “it looks strange, but you are following same what we provide in hospital. We keep the patient in isolated ward, as this is highly contagious and keep there for at least one week. Generally, we do not prescribe any medicines for it, we give ointment for blister but that is ineffective for first week. He advised me to drink plenty of water, not to scratch blister, pimples and remain in isolation for a week.  My brother overheard my phone call, he comforted me – “see, your problem is quite under control. Chicken pox generally takes seven days for cure. Within this week you will be ok.”

After three- four days, I started feeling normal. There was no fever like feeling or weakness in the body. Most of the blisters were dried and itching sensation was there. My sister in law would boil water with neem leaves and I would use that water to wipe face and body.  After seven days, I was almost all right. I had few scars on my face due to blisters. Last day, again room was cleaned with phenyl and detol and everything was arranged there as it was seven days before.

I was worried about the scars on my face and saw a dermatologist. He prescribed an ointment and advised me to wash the face with coconut water. One-day morning, after shaving, I was applying after shave on my face, my sister in law said – “see, you were not fair earlier, but by the grace of Sitla maa, now you look fresh and fair.”
 I feared, if I  contradicted her ,she would give me a lengthy lecture on Sitla maa, religion, spirituality and feel upset .I did not want to hurt her faith and sentiment, and thinking so  I just nodded my head in assent.

~~~ Ramanuj Dubey

The Holidays in Savan month ..

One day our teacher announced in the class room– “From tomorrow, Savan month will start. This is the auspicious month for everyone here. Large numbers of devotees take dip in the holy Ganga at Sultanganj (town situated at the bank of river Ganga) pick up holy water from there, and travel by walk around hundred kilometers to Devghar (town  famous for lord shiva temple)  and pour the jal (Holy water) on Lord Shiva. There will be traffic and rush on the road for almost one month. There are few Dharmshala , private lodge and hotel in this area. Many devotees do not get proper place to sleep, to take rest, to do cooking and other necessary works. As our school is nearby road and we do not have boundary wall, many devotees intrude in our school and stay here. We cannot be insensitive with devotees. From tomorrow, devotees will occupy this school /place for a month and in that condition, we will not be able to conduct classes. Therefore, you will have one-month holidays from tomorrow onwards.”
“Are wah!” – One of my friends exclaimed – “How lucky we are, we have just completed our one month summer vacation and again this Savan vacation.”
“Sir, every school will have one month holiday”- one of my schoolmates asked the question. He looked confused because he never heard of holidays due to savan month.
“No, this is a local holiday arrangement. Our school is only facing this issue. Do not spread this matter to the students of other schools. Enjoy holidays and complete the assignment that I am going to give you all”- He gave assignment and our school was closed for one month.

When my father came to know about this unauthorized holiday, he looked concerned. Next day, he met with the headmaster. The headmaster explained to him –“See, we are also not very happy to close the school for one month but what to do. Devotees occupy the place everywhere. They keep their Kanwar (decorated bamboo staff) in the field, sleep on veranda, do bhajan kirtan, sing devotional songs, cook food and eat them there. They come in large number and we cannot force them to evict the place. They come from far-flung area. What impression they will have of us, if we do not treat them well”.
“Fine, but why do not you construct boundary wall around the school”- my father advised him a solution.
“ Boundary wall has been in my mind from long, but school management does not have sufficient fund to get it done. We had written about it to local M.L.A and he assured us for it. Three years passed, we got nothing expect assurance.”- He answered.
“But what about my child’s study? His future?”-  My father looked irritated by the answer.
“Do not worry. I assure you; all teachers will cover up the syllabus in time. If extra class is needed that also will be given to students. We are as concerned for children’s study and future as their parents.”
My father was not convinced but he had no option. During meeting with headmaster, I was also with my father. When we were leaving, headmaster told us to stay for few minutes and brought chocolates for me. I took all the chocolates and put in the pocket but my father was not impressed with the headmaster.

After one week of this incident, I along with my grandfather went to market and found that our every teacher had opened up temporary shop at roadside for devotees. One had fruit shop, second had chat shop, third had shops of milk items; the headmaster had opened medical care shop/ dispensary. Every shop had three to four attendant and they were calling devotees to visit their respective shops.  The shops were full of devotee customers.
“Oh! Our teachers are earning money by doing business in this month. The holiday, they declared so that they can do business activity”- I thought.

That year, I was in class VI. I have many interesting and unforgettable memories of class VI. That was happening year for me in many ways. I enjoyed two long months holiday in a year but I do not regret it. I utilized the time by reading many children magazines, comics and few novels and inculcated the habit of reading beyond text book . My father was bitterly disappointed with the school and the headmaster. Next year, for VII class, I moved from there and joined the high school.

~~~ Ramanuj Dubey

The Summer Holidays ...

It was midsummer and we were celebrating summer holidays. During holiday, One day my maternal grandfather came to visit us and, he took me to his village. At that time, I was in class six. My maternal grandfather had orchards and it had many mango and dates trees. During my stay in his house, I would spend whole day in orchards .  I would come to home only when I would be hungry otherwise I used to spend time climbing the trees, swinging on swing (hung from branches on ropes) and playing in the orchard. One day, I saw a boy cutting the grass from the field and collecting in the basket. I saw him taking few mangoes from the orchard that had fallen from the tree. When I went to him, he fled from the orchard. I wondered why he fled when I was trying to be friendly. When I told the maternal grandfather about the incident, he laughed – “oh! He was stealing the mangoes and he must have thought that you were going to catch him”. He advised me to spend more time in house than orchard but I did not listen to him as I was thoroughly enjoying the company of trees and the heaven like ambience of the orchard.

Next day when I saw him, I urged him not to flee away from the field. He obeyed my call and did not move from there. I talked with him and invited him to play with us. He was elder to me but studying in the same class. Within two days, we became good friend. He would take me to village temple, other orchards, ponds, fields and tell many stories about them. He knew everything about his surroundings. He had three cows and two buffalos .He would collect fodder from the field for the animals, take them to ponds to give proper bath every second day and clean their abode every day. After school time, it was his responsibilities to look after them.  Sometimes he would go market too, to bring the necessary items for the animals and family members. Besides that, he used to sing many folk songs and knew dancing too. Even though he was weak in study and he knew it, but he was least bothered about it. When I would ask questions from the syllabus, instead of giving answer he would ask many questions about fields, animals and grains. I would give up and he would enjoy seeing my ignorance in many other subjects.

He had a cousin who was tenth fail and quite elder to us. One day when we were playing in the field, we came and made a plan with my friend to watch film in nearby town. I was not the part of their discussion. When his cousin was leaving, he asked – “Do you want to join us”.  I was listening to their talk and feeling angry inside as they had excluded me from their plan. “I would like to join, but what I will have to do for it?”- I relieved to know that at last I was also included in the plan.
 “Nothing. If you have ten rupees, you can join us. Six rupees for video cinema ticket and four rupees for jhalmurhi (puffed rice with spices). Do not take permission from baba (he was referring my maternal grandfather); he would not allow you to go with us. Do you have money?”- He asked.
“Yes, I have.”- I replied. I had twenty rupees that time in my pocket, I thought I would spend ten rupees in cinema, and rest ten rupees in comics and when anybody would ask, I would tell, I had gone market to purchase comics.

Morning 10am, the plan was made for watching movie and after half an hour we all three gathered in orchard for going to the town. I saw my friend and brother, both of them were carrying a big jute bag. They told that they had to purchase some items from the market too.  We started at 10.30 am and reached to video hall around 12 pm. we took ticket and entered the hall. It was my first experience of watching movie in any hall. In fact, hall was a part of house, it was full of benches and the operator was showing movie on a small TV screen. My whole excitement ebbed away, as I thought I would watch movie in real cinema theatre/ hall.

 When movie was over, it was around 3am. After that we all went to market, both of them purchased items –wheat, pulse, oil, vegetables and other grocery items, and their bags were full. When I told the elder that I wanted to purchase comics, he took me to a very big grocery shop. The shop was not selling the comics. When I told him, he replied – “oh! This is the big shop in the town, if comics are not available here, then it is not available in this market”.
“But how can grocery shop will sell comics, comics will be available in magazine shop or book store”-I reasoned.
He had no idea about any magazine shop or bookstore in the town. When I insisted, he took me to a bookshop. It was a very small bookshop and it was selling only state board book. The bookshop had no children magazine or comics for sell. I was disappointed.

Meanwhile, an interesting incident took place there. The elder brother of my friend was married and in market, he met with his brother in law. The brother in law discussed something with the elder and then elder told to my friend – “see, my brother in law conveyed me, my wife is not well. I have to go along with him sasural. Please carry my bag too and inform my father that I will come tomorrow”. 

When he left, then I realized how my friend would carry two bags full of items. I tried to pick up the bag, it was heavy. My friend put one bag on his back, and another bag we both carrying with hands. We continued to do that for almost one kilometer. By that time, we were out of market, but village was almost three to four kilometer far away from there. Carrying bag became uphill task for us. I was in full sweat and started sobbing. Seeing me, my friend too started crying. We were helpless that time.

A person on bike saw us sobbing on the road. He stopped the bike and asked the reason of sobbing.
He laughed when he came to know the reason. He took my friend on bike, and arranged a rickshaw for us. Within half an hour, I saw my friend coming on rickshaw, brimming with smile. The rickshaw puller kept the both bag on it and we reached to the village safely.

When I reached village, it was dark. Surreptitiously, I entered in the house. What excuse I would give to my maternal grandfather, I kept on thinking all the way. But I did not have to give any excuse to him. When I reached the door, I saw my maternal grandfather was chatting with the same person, who was on bike and helped us. Both of them laughed when they saw me walking stealthily. I straight way went to the room and hid my face in the bed sheet.

~~~ Ramanuj Dubey 

My Friend and The Left Hand Writing --

He was one year senior to me in the school. Due to his illness, he could not write final semester examination of Xth class. The headmaster did not sent up him for matriculation board examination. He had to spend one more year in tenth class with us. Few days he was aloof in the class but after that, he started mingling with us. We found out that he was very different from us. Where we used to fear our class teacher, would obey everything without asking any reason, he would confront and ask reason for everything that he felt unreasonable. Our class teacher was very strict person and he was notorious for giving physical punishment to students. Many times, without any valid reasons, he would cane students. One girl of our batch was absent for one day due to some medical reason  but he did not spare her. Later on, we came to know that the girl was his relative. However, our class teacher’s martinet behavior had no impact on our new friend. Many times the class teacher warned him, gave him punishment but he was what he was. He did not change himself according to the wishes of our class teacher. He was a rebel and we adored him. We used to feel pleasure to see our class teacher in foul mood due to him.

One day, during lunch recess, he came to me and asked – “Will you help me?” I was surprised to hear it. He was most audacious boy in out batch; he used to keep good amount of money in his wallet all the time and he had many friends from to school to local area. What help he wants from me – I wondered. “Tell me, if I can do”- I replied.
“You will have to write a letter for me. I want to send the letter to a girl”-He spoke smilingly to me.
“No. I will not do that. This is wrong to write a letter for someone”. Without thinking a second, I replied. He got irritated. “Do not try to be over smart. I know how you help Arshad in writing letter. If you will not write a letter for me, I will complain about you to the class teacher and your family”.
Arshad was our batch mate and he used to love a girl. It was one-sided love and he wanted to send a letter to the girl. He would write a letter and show me for necessary correction. One day when I was reading his letter, our new friend noticed that. Latter, he inquired about it with Arshad and came to know everything. I was very scared when he threatened me to disclose this matter to teachers and family. Even though I knew that I was not guilty of anything but, I was very much aware of the fact that if this complain would go to our class teacher or family, I would get good thrashing from both places. Nobody would care to hear my side of story. I was on back foot, seeing me nervous, he patted at my back.

“But, why do not you write yourself. Why you want me to write”- I wanted to get rid of this work.
“My family knows the girl very well. She is distant relative of my aunty. If she accepts my love then you need not to write any letter further and if she complains , in that case that will not be my handwriting”- What a plan he had ! I had admired him, if he would not have chosen me as scribe. Now I was in his trap.
“I will not write the letter. If they find out my handwriting, then?”-  I was trying to find out excuse.
“Oh! They will not come to know about it. Their family does not live here”- He tried to assured me but I would not listen.
“I heard that Rajendra babu, our first president of country, used to write with both hands. Let me learn to write from left hand then I will write a letter for you. I will not write a letter from right hand”- I wanted to buy time.
“How many days you will take to learn writing from left hand”- He looked interested in my new proposal.
“At least fifteen to twenty days”- I blurted.
“Done! I am giving you  ten days more for good handwriting. Take one-month time in learning, and then write the letter. I am not in hurry.”- He remarked.

I was in fix. There was no any solution for me except listening him. I started practicing writing from the left hand. Within fifteen days, I found my left handwriting was legible. My friend would enquire about my progress in every second or third day. In third week, he looked satisfied with my handwriting.  He told me to write the letter and the day I wrote the letter for him, he took me to the local sweet shop and gave a treat. I took promise from him that he would not tell me to do such work in future. 

He honored the promise and never bothered me after that. Except this aberration, he continued to be a good friend of mine.

~~~ Ramanuj Dubey 

The Kidnapping ..

When I reached to my friend’s village, I saw my friend in a meeting. The meeting was going on in my friend’s house. His father ushered me to meeting place, it was the last room of the house. I saw room full of people. I counted the people and they were fifteen. Six people were looking around sixty years old; four people around thirty five - forty and rest all were around twenty. They looked very serious and from their gesture and posture, it was looking as if they were planning for some suspicious activities. I sensed that it was not a normal gathering; it had some special purpose. My friend saw me and told me to wait outside for few minutes. After fifteen minutes, the meeting was over and all participants chanted ‘Jai Ganesh’ in unison.

When my friend came to me after seeing off the people, I was reading the newspaper. He snatched the newspaper my hand and took me to the room. His behavior at that day was looking completely strange. I could not resist my curiosity.  I asked –“Could you tell me, what kind of meeting was going on here”. He laughed and replied- “No. I won’t tell you. I know you are unable to digest anything. It was secret meeting, if I tell you then you will reveal to everybody.”
I felt offended. “Tell me, when I have revealed that you have told not to reveal before anybody?” He looked amused with my protest.
“We were planning to kidnap few people”- he divulged about the secret meeting.
“What! kidnapping?”- I was unable to believe his word.
“Yes. But this kidnapping is something different. We are not kidnapping for ransom, we are going to kidnap bridegrooms.”- He informed me further.
“But kidnapping is illegal, isn’t it?”- I wanted to know, how he would defend this crime.
“Do not lecture me without listening or understanding the complete thing. Such kidnapping is legal in my caste. We have identified three bridegrooms and we will kidnap them within two weeks. After two weeks, there are no auspicious days for marriage. The bridegrooms are educated and from good family. If my villagers go there for marriage alliance, their family would ask hefty dowry. My villagers are unable to pay dowry. Do not you think Dowry is a big crime?”
“So, countering crime with crime”- I laughed. –“Suppose, the bridegroom divorces the bride after marriage”- I expressed my concerned.
“We choose prospective bridegrooms very meticulously. We choose only those families who have never gone to police- kachahry (Police & Court) and those who believe in Indian culture.” – He answered.
“Indian Culture, what Indian culture has to do with it?”- I spoke sarcastically.
He was angry – “Indian culture means who do not believe in divorce and do not go to court for marriage issues. In Indian culture, marriage why not forced one, is once done remain sacred for seven lives”.

Indian culture has been a very misconstrued term. Many times people use it to hide their crime/sin/ wrongdoings. I differed with my friend’s argument – “And that was the Indian culture, when elderly people were planning for criminal activities, planning for kidnapping? That is Indian culture where you force an innocent guy to marry against his will. Do not malign Indian culture for your impious and criminal activities”. I was huffing. Meanwhile, Aunty (my friend’s mother) brought some eatable in the room. Seeing her, both of us stopped discussing. I had some personal work with him and I completed after that.

At that day, when I was leaving his house, my friend asked – “Do you want to see such marriage?”  In fact, I was very keen to observe kidnapped bridegroom’s marriage. I nodded my head in yes. He told he would inform me when such marriage took place in his village.

After ten days, my friend invited me to his village to attend a marriage function. I did not go his village on marriage day; I went next day of the marriage. I saw all villagers gathered at the bride’s house. Everything was looking normal; everyone was looking happy and celebrating the occasion. When I met the bridegroom, I saw his face swollen. It appeared somebody gave him a big punch on his face. He looked calm and obeying all the rituals what priest was telling him to do.

The priest, who was in the meeting too, revealed all the story of previous day. When the bridegroom was kidnapped and brought in the village, he was very adamant. Even he spoke foul language too. Few villagers got infuriated and they beat the bridegroom. Initially bridegroom too fought with them, and then he gave up. During fighting, he got punch on his face but he too injured two people. The story was very humorous.

“How he agreed to marry”- I was amazed to see the successful execution of the plan. The priest disclosed – “When the bridegroom became almost pulp after getting beaten by the youth then the women of the family took charge. The women drove the youths from the house. They made him bath and put turmeric on the body. The bride’s mother wept to see the suffering of bridegroom. The girls of the village took care of him whole night. The girls were at the beck and call of the bridegroom. The bride also spoke to him, as bride looked sensitive and beautiful, he agreed for marriage without making any fuss.

I observed, during rituals the priest was calling the bridegroom, incarnation of lord Shiva. He was equating the bridegroom with lord Shiva and the bridegroom was looking pleased with this comparison. The bridegroom was surrounded by young girls and it appeared he was enjoying their company. Everything was looking normal and controlled.

I thanked my friend for showing me such an entertaining marriage.

~~~ Ramanuj Dubey

The Love letter in English

One day he came to me and asked in very polite tone, - “Bhaiya ji, May I trust you?” I got alarmed. This trust word had put me in trouble two times earlier too. First time, when one of my friends who looked distressed, started his story with the sentence - Can I trust you? –, and ended up with demand of five thousand rupees. I was moved by his story and gave him four thousand rupees (that much only I had that time) immediately. He profusely thanked me for the timely help and never returned after that. Second time a girl very pleadingly asked me- Can I trust you? - , and after that she made me to do all those nonsense / mindless works that I never imagined I would do. Whenever I thought of it, I felt myself stupid, simpleton.

This was third time when somebody was using trust word before broaching the real story.  Considering previous experience, my getting alarmed was natural. I had just nodding acquaintance   with him .He was a distant relative of my friend and few times we exchanged greetings on the road. He used to live nearby my resident, aged around forty years and working in any local restaurant.

“See, I do not know you very well. Please tell me, what do you want to say?”- I was defensive.
“It is not a very big work. I want you to read an English letter for me. I found this letter in my daughter’s school bag. I was cleaning her desk and found it. This letter is not a normal letter, there is a sentence – I love you – written on that. My English is weak but still I can understand few things in English. Please translate line by line for me in Hindi”. I found him very interesting person. I came to know that he had two offspring – one son and one daughter. The son was just three years old and the daughter was studying in class ninth in convent school.

I translated the letter to him. It was a love letter for her daughter written by her schoolmate. The girl had requested the boy to write the letter in English so that  even if letter was found out, nobody could be able to read and understand it in her family. I surmised this as the boy praised her for the request and promised further that he would write letter to her in English only. Next paragraph was about how much he missed her after school and in holidays. He looked upset. He told in very grave voice – “bhaiya ji, even son /daughter can take the advantage of your ignorance”. 
“Do not you feel angry?”- I wanted to see his reaction.
Contrary to my expectation, he looked calm. He replied – “bhaiya ji, since last twenty years, I have been working in hotel only. Hospitality sector. Everything is allowed there but anger. I have attended two workshops and two long-term training; practice everything what was taught there. I received five times employee of the year award. Even though my other subjects were good but I was not so strong in English. If my English had been good, I would have been manager by now. Tell me bhaiya ji when I do not get angry anytime in office, how can I be angry on family matter.”

His reply made me smile. He was trying to appear normal but internally he was very disturbed. After few minutes of silence he requested me –“bhaiya ji, Will you write a letter in English for me. Please write exactly, what I say. Do not add or subtract anything.” As per his dictation in Hindi, I wrote the letter.

Dear Daughter,

I found out your letter and read it. I want to tell you one thing. Prime minister and president do not know everything but they run the country smoothly. I may not know English but my ignorance will not hinder in looking after my family. See, I read the letter and replying you too in English only.  Every day, I see young boys and girls come in restaurant and they spend good time there. I serve them and they thank me.  I am not against boy friend or love marriage. You are a student of ninth class, immature, inexperienced and unaware of many dirty things of this world. Please concentrate on study and think of bright career. Do not waste time on other things. When you reach eighteen years and become mature, I will not give you any suggestion or stop you for anything. Now as a father, I am hurt and very sad. If you love and respect me, you will concentrate your time in study only.

Your Papa.

He requested me not to reveal anyone about this incident. When he left my room, I had mixed feeling for him. One part of mine was laughing loudly at him; other part was feeling a great respect for him. Few days he lingered in my mind, I wanted to know the consequence of the letter.

Around six months after the incident, I saw him in the market. He came to me and profusely thanked for my help. He conveyed me that his letter did miracle. After reading the letter, her daughter wept and promised him that she would not indulge in any bad thing. His daughter stood second in the class. He looked happy and before parting once again, he abundantly thanked me.

I too was very delighted as that was the first time anybody put trust in me and the result ended with positive note.

~~~ Ramanuj Dubey

Snakes,Nagpanchami & Blessings --

I have many times narrow escapes from snakes. This is the incident of 8th September 2012. I still remember this date because I had shared my experience on face book timeline immediately after the incident. During that time, I was working as a consultant for an N.G.O and staying in their campus. The N.G.O was situated at Kamlapur, around 200 km from Hyderabad .The campus had few office buildings, few quarters for staffs and many well-furnished rooms for participants who used to come there for training / workshop/ meetings/ any other purposes. There were many trees, brushes in the campus and it had well maintained garden too. There was a mess in the campus that used to function every day except Sunday. Expect me (alone consultant / Rural Development professional from Hyderabad ); all the staffs of the N.G.O were local. They used to leave the campus on Saturday evening and would come back on Monday morning. The campus of the N.G.O was almost two kilometers far away from residential area of the village.


It was Sunday night and that weekend I was alone in the campus. In evening, I had gone outside and had heavy meal. I purchased few packets of snacks and a tetra pack of fruit juice and kept in the cupboard that was at the corner of the room. That night, around 11 pm, I was chatting with a face book friend. Meanwhile I felt a bit hungry and I went to cupboard and opened it. The moment I opened the cupboard, something fell on my right hand. I jerked my hand and felt something creeping on ground .After 15 second; I realized that it was a snake. After seeing the snake, I got very frightened. I started screaming .By that time, the snake again entered into the drawer of the cupboard. I was at my wit’s end, what to do. Then I called a staff that was staying in the village two kilometer far away from there. He telephoned the guards of the campus. Two guards came with sticks to my room that night only. They very adroitly compelled the snake to come out of the cupboard then they killed it. They threw the dead snake out of the room but I was very frightened internally. The blood and some part of flesh were still visible on the floor. I checked cupboard again and saw shedded skin (scales) of the snake. The snake was living in the cupboard from long time. After the incident, I locked that cupboard and never used it.








Snake that was in cupboard


In November 2012, I had gone to Kadri block of Ananthpur district. I was in the field, discussing with a farmer about interventions done by government and private agency in that area. Meanwhile, resource person who had come along with me saw a snake just behind me. He screamed and hearing him when I turned back I saw a snake. Without wasting anytime, he picked up a big stone and threw over the snake. The snake came under the stone and it could not move from there. Even though I was frightened, I took out the mobile from my pocket and took a snap. Later he killed the snake. I had narrow escape from it.









Snake under the stone





Around two and half years back, I was in Kadapa district, for visiting watershed intervention area. I along with resource person was climbing the ridge area of the watershed. The area was full of brushes and grass. I was climbing, talking with resource person without keeping my eyes on the ground. Suddenly the resource person pulled me back and I saw a snake vanished in the brushes. If he had not pulled me, I would have stepped over the snake and that was a cobra snake.



These three incidents took place in recent past but I had narrow escape from the snake earlier too. One when I was a kid, second time when I was in intermediate.


My mother believes that those who worship Nagraj (king of snake- Cobra) on Nagpanchami, Snakes never harm them and they get blessing from the Nagraj. She may miss to remind me any other festival but she never forgets to inform me about the date of the festival Nagpanchami, what to eat and what to avoid on the day and what rituals to be done to celebrate the festival. Though I do not do any rituals to celebrate it but I observe the festival and love eating dudh lava (milk & puffed rice). Hope, Nagdev will keep blessing me in future too as he has blessed me so far.

~~~ Ramanuj Dubey