A tribute to Rajesh Khanna

A screenshot from Aradhana

I just woke up to read that Rajesh Khanna has passed away. Growing up in the 80's and 90's, when our on-screen crushes used to be Salman Khan, Shah Rukh Khan, Aamir Khan (most of the Khans I guess!), I remember watching old movies on Doordarshan where a Rajesh Khanna-starrer was pretty common, considering the number of hits he was part of. If Amitabh Bachchan was the angry young man, Khanna was romance personified. My favorites were Aradhana, Aap ki kasam, Anand, Amar Prem and his dialogue "Pushpaaaa... I hate tears" was even more memorable than the original line by Uttam Kumar. So technically, Rajesh Khanna belonged to a time when our parents were love-struck youngsters and probably crooned his songs to each other. But songs have the ability to transcend time and what songs they were!
I was just thinking of these iconic numbers and here are a few of my favorites. I think every song deserves a line at least:

1) "Mere sapno ki raani kab ayegi tu": Who can forget this playful, romantic song! A guy driving a car on a road parallel to a train where his lady love is traveling and watching him through the window! That song and sequence makes the romantic in me squeal in glee!

2) "Chingaari koi bhadke": One of the most beautiful songs I have ever heard with such thought-provoking lyrics, and the gravity of the song was defined by the presence of Rajesh Khanna. In fact, this whole post can be filled up with songs from Aradhana. Anand and Amar Prem.

Sharmila Tagore and Rajesh Khanna in the romantic classic Amar Prem

3) "Jai Jai Shiv Shankar": Oho! Back to the playful! I feel high just saying the first line! One can't help but groove to the beats of this song! Which reminds me, Mumtaz and Rajesh Khanna made an equally gorgeous pair like Sharmila and Khanna.


4) "Kahin door jab din dhal jaye": Anand is one of my favorite movies and I loved the character played by Rajesh Khanna. Funny and full of life, with a few days to live but this song shows how weary he his because of his illness too. When my father passed away, I remember telling someone Anand's dialogue from the movie: "Zindagi lambi nahin, badi honi chahiye." Beautiful song.

A screen shot from Anand

5) "Yeh jo mohabbat hai": Hic! Another gorgeous song from the Kishore-Khanna combo. The perils of being in love have never been so romantically expressed!

6) "Roop tera mastana": Ooohh the sexiest song of the era! I mean the saxophone music starts and you are transported to this naughty scene ;-) And the whole song had been shot in a single shot! There is no lip-syncing and you only have the smoldering fire and the song in the background.

7) "Kuch to log kahenge": This is one of the principles I live by. No matter what you do, there will always be some people who will talk about you, so why waste time thinking about useless things like this. As a teary-eyed Pushpa looks on, Khanna brilliantly expresses this sentiment clad in that gorgeous white kurta-dhoti-shawl combo.

8) "Zindagi ek safar hai suhana": Yoodley yoodley yooo hoooooo! Another fun song, this time by the Hema Malini-Khanna duo singing away in a motorcycle about how wonderful the journey of life is and who knows what lies ahead!

Hema Malini and Rajesh Khanna

9) "Woh shaam kuch ajeeb thi": God the songs back then were just so melodious! This song is pure poetry, picturized on the Waheeda Rehman-Khanna duo, with water lapping the sides of the boat.

10) "Zindagi kaisi hai paheli haai": This song sums up life -- a puzzle that makes us laugh at times, and sometimes making us cry. A Manna Dey classic immortalised by Rajesh Khanna.

There are so many unforgettable classics like the romantic Kora kaagaz tha jeevan mera, the soulful Jeevan se bhari teri aakhein, the haunting Mere nainaa saawan bhado, the adorable Chal chal chal mera haathi, the lovely Maine tere liye hi saat rang ke sapne chune, the melodious Diye jalte hai and Ek ajnabi haseena se, the sultry Bheegi bheegi raaton main, the gorgeous O mere dil ke chaen, one of my mom's favorites Aap ki kasam, another philosophical number about life Zindagi ka safar and the whistle and hum of Yeh shaam mastani .
These are only some of the songs that have touched my heart, which symbolise the pain and pleasure that accompanies romance and life in general, songs brought to life by the great Rajesh Khanna. Rest in peace Kakaji, your work will be appreciated by many many generations to come.

My dil goes vroommmmm mm mm

Buying the first car of one’s life is usually a big deal for everyone. It is by no means an inexpensive investment. So the very fact that you can afford one gives you a sense of achievement and you get the thought that maybe cramming for those exams and then working like a zombie has some advantages too.

We never had a car growing up, we had (have) the coolest Rajdoot bike, a bike which real men like Dharmendra drove! I was so used to it because I remember riding on it since I was 4 till a week before my dad suddenly died. Although that Rajdoot was the apple of our eye, this piece is not about the motorcycle -- it deserves a separate article in itself.

Now growing up in a middle-class family with one parent working in a bank and the other as a teacher meant although I would be spoiled silly as an only child, there were limits about what I could have. A car was regarded as a luxury when we were kids and I didn’t care much because cmonnn riding in a bike with my dad to school every day was way cooler than being cooped in a car. But then I started getting older, taller and it was not possible for the three of us to sit in one bike together. Dad had to pick me up and mom in two trips and we all started feeling the need for a car.

Maruti 800 started the famous ad campaign which must have touched the soul of every middle class family in India with its emotional, angsty song “Mera sapna, meri Maruti”. There were a series of ads where a young man usually reminisces in sepia coloured shots about his days when he used to travel on a two-wheeler along with his siblings or parents and now he has a Maruti car, the quintessential affordable small car which no Nano shano can ever hope to beat! The ad always ended with another kid or adult in a two-wheeler looking longingly at the car as it zoomed by. Those were the days when the ads knew how to target their consumers with just the right words and scenes.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fcWKBlnRo6g

We had that the same longing look and hoped one day we will be able to buy a car. My mom especially really wanted one and Dad’s always said the same thing, “Let’s buy a house first; you can’t sleep in car every day, can you?” Wise words, but then we just work like gadhas (sounds less indecent) our whole lives and keep denying our desires, but really is it worth it? Maybe it is but then a little bit of indulgence is required once in a while, as Jonathan Swift talked about “The Stoical scheme of supplying our wants by lopping off our desires, is like cutting off our feet when we want shoes.”

Coming back to the topic, the car was always on our minds. We even had a car stereo which was the first cassette player in my house till I was about 12 and my father thought one day we could use it in our car so why discard it. Later Dad in rare moments of exuberance even went on singing, “I have a dream... to buy a car”! In the late 90s, banks started bombarding everyone with car loan ads and small-town Guwahati, with people gradually finding themselves with sound purchasing power, filled the roads with four-wheelers. Traffic was a nightmare and still continues to be. Although we will probably reach our destination sooner if we walk, people continue sitting in their AC cars moving at a snail’s pace, hoping to be on that 10-min stretch of empty road soon and feel that buying the car was worth it. Neighbours envied other neighbours, colleagues congratulated colleagues on their new vehicles with a pang in their hearts, secretly wondering, “How did Mr X manage to buy a new car? Oh he has only one child, he doesn’t have to worry about education expenses of TWO children like I do!”

I left Guwahati for New Delhi during that time and Delhi was a different place altogether. Cars, cars and more gaddi. Maruti Esteem everywhere, a Merc once in a while, later BMWs and other swanky ones flooded the roads. Bhe poo Bhe poo everywhere (it is soooo quiet in Austin, honking is rude you see :-o). But lesser mortals like me, with no rich Punjabi munda boyfriend, had to rely on rickety DTC buses, surrounded by creepy men, pickpocketers, gigantic ladies poking to get more space, legs cramping for standing for so long and the worst --- travelling to NOIDA sitting on the engine seat near the driver with 20 more people surrounding him, as the heat of the engine was enough to melt the soles of my shoes and a garish, high-pitched “Sheeeshaa ho ya dil hoooooo, akhir toot jaata hai” playing in an almost broken cassette player near my ear!

As my salary continued to increase, I decided to do myself a favour and use auto rickshaws for daily commuting; they cost a lot but at least were more comfortable. But those damn autowalas!!!%&^#&&*# (All my colleagues have seen me enter the office at least once, fuming and cursing the auto drivers of Delhi. The meter se chalo--meter kharab hai argument was a daily occurrence and added to my stress levels. Grrrrrrrr. I wanted my own car so bad :-(

Later I came to America, the land of plenty, and I thought my troubles were over. Thenga! At least in India we had autos, rickshaws and even buses had so many stops you hardly had to walk. They were frequent, sometimes 2, 3 arriving for the same route, unlike here where you have to wait for minimum 20 min if you miss the bus and the stops don’t even have proper shades to protect you from the Texan heat! So here I was, walking in the heat, carrying groceries and walking, panting, seeing mirages of autowalas in front of me. Who knew I would miss ever them! Commuting was a pain here, relying on google maps, finding bus routes, estimated travel time and depending on friends here for pickups and drops which the independent me always found awkward.

But now Sentra is in my life. My lovely Sentra

My new missions: Learn to drive but no rush, I just want to relax and happily be the navigator for a while. And second, get my mom a car back home, the iron lady with the simplicity of a child deserves to drive around in style!. Till then, dil bole vroom vroom!

Two to Tango!

Austin, 16 July



MUSIC lovers in Austin got a taste of Argentina, as artistes Giampaolo Bandini and Cesare Chiacchiaretta mesmerised the audience at Tango! -- the second concert in the Latin Chamber Music Series, Pasión!, organised by the Austin Classical Guitar Society.

Playing compositions of Argentine musical stalwarts such as Astor Piazzolla, Angel Villoldo and Fernando Tavolaro, the Bandini-Chiacchiaretta duo immediately connected with the audience, giving them a glimpse of Argentina's captivating music through the guitar and bandoneon. The instruments, regarded to be the most representative of Tango music, touched a chord with everyone. The foot tapping notes or the poignant melodies, along with the engaging personalities of the duo, led the audience to request for an encore performance. The highlight of the evening was the last composition, very aptly accompanied by a Tango dance performance, which also brought the surprised audience to its feet.

The Bandini-Chiacchiaretta duo took form in 2002 and has toured all over the world to great critical acclaim, and has also taken part in important music festivals. Both the artistes were very happy with the reception today and discussed plans of performing in Kolkata, India soon.

The audience also has a chance to sample delicacies prepared by La Sombra Bar and Grill, which presents country-specific cuisines, this week being the Argentina special. The final concert of this series -- Viva Mexico! -- will take place on July 30.

The Auto Driver

I woke up to another scorching day in Delhi, harsh sunlight screaming through the door and the hot, sultry wind killing what little calm I had in me. After finishing my daily chores, packing my lunch, filling water in the cooler, I got ready for work.
“Off to office in this sweltering heat,” I spoke out loud.
Now, anyone who has lived in Delhi and uses public transport would know there is a strange section of people called auto drivers. They have the magical ability to make even Gandhi violent.
I have had my share of such creatures on a regular basis and a day doesn’t go when I don’t have to negotiate the fares with them. “Meter se chalo:” That’s my mantra. “Meter nahin chalta”: That’s their mantra. (Surprisingly their meter is working fine since the auto fares have been increased).
Now I can go on and on about these Devil’s gift to mankind. And believe me, there is a lot I can say about them. But this is not my story.

***

The auto driver waited near the small lane, as the hot wind blew around him. He felt too lazy to go towards the main road, where he would probably get more passengers. But he just sat in his auto, smiling wistfully as he saw the busy shopaholics passing by. He noticed a girl walking fast and carrying a big bag, two bags actually, deftly manouvering her umbrella, her mobile phone and a packet of mangoes.
“Auto! ITO?” I shouted?
He nodded. We negotiated, luckily he agreed on a decent fare and we started. Now there are some auto drivers who like to talk. This was one of them.
As we gave our expert opinions on the latest fare increase, he asked, “How much do you get in office?”
I was a little taken aback. “Rs 20,000,” I lied for some reason. Maybe to justify the fact that I am a poor girl and therefore cannot pay the new exorbitant fares. “Savings per month?” he asked.
“Around Rs 5,000, on a good month,” I said.
“How much have you studied?” he seemed interested.
“Well, I have done my M.A.” I said, not sure where was this going.
As I said that, he turned to me and smiled proudly: “That’s good, very good. People who let daughters go for higher education are good people.”
I smiled and said, “I am an only child, but yes, my parents are good people.”
Now, I work for a business daily, I am surrounded by news about investments, expenditure, revenues blah blah blah. And blah. But here in front of me, readers, was a budding entrepreneur. And for the next 20 minutes, as we passed Lodhi Road, Pandara Road, India Gate and proceeded towards Bahadur Shah Zafar Marg, the Auto Driver chose to share his grand business plan with me.
“Beti, I have three sons,” he said proudly. “The elder one is doing his MSc in Chemistry, the second one is doing BA in Physics and the youngest one is in 11th class and he will study Math.”
I nodded, impressed at his studious sons. (I sucked at all three subjects).
He continued. “After finishing his MSc, the elder one will take tuition classes for a couple of years, till the other two brothers finish their studies. The money won’t be much, teaching doesn’t really pay that well. Look, how much you are saving in spite of being so educated.”
I nodded again, sad at the unpleasant truth.
“So!” he beamed, “You know what my plan is? I will open a Coaching Centre!” he shouted over the traffic horns.
“My elder boy will teach Chemistry, the second one Physics and the youngest boy will teach Math. Physics, Chemistry, Math!
“Then if we get up to 100 students also, we will have a decent income. Of course, there will be salaries for the receptionist, one or two other employees, bills and taxes. But still we will earn up to 20 lakh per month!
“The revenues will be divided into three equal halves among my three sons, after all they are teaching one subject each. That way there won’t be any conflict between them.
“Then I will make my own house, I will stop driving this auto, gradually we will earn in crores and we will be Rich!”
I was totally engrossed in his plans. I like people who plan their finances well. And he explained everything so systematically. But we had arrived at my stop and so I wished him all the best and left. I think he was still saying something.
There are times you meet interesting people, who may not say anything new, but you still remember them. He was one of those guys. After all, everything starts with a dream, doesn’t it? I smiled to myself and walked inside the office, as the cool wind of the AC greeted me.
But this is not my story.

***

The Auto Driver saw the girl with the bags rushing inside the big building. He again had that wistful smile back. He started his auto and started towards his house as his shift ended for the day. He thought, “She seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say. Nowadays kids don’t have time for anything. I wish I had a daughter… Or three sons.”

The End


** The last paragraph was a figment of my imagination. I really hope for the Auto Driver’s sake that what all he said was true and his dreams do come true.**

GRE GRRRRRRRRR

Ok. So I have thought of sitting for GRE. Graduate Record Examination. AAAAAAAAAA....
At the ripe old age of 26, I have to sit for another exam????? Why God Why??? What the heaven is Thy problem, O Lord?? I soooo try to find some stability in my life and You have made it a mission to keep shaking me up. Man plans, God laughs. Hah! I mean, didn't I work hard enough to reach my goals, to pursue my dream, sacrifice enough to build this career? Nobody gave me this on a platter. For my M.A., I used to study in the bus while going to office, in the bathroom at night so that my roomies were not disturbed, attended classes early morning and then went to office every Sunday, wrote those pages and pages of assignments... and I finally finished my Masters. My goal. But now that I am going to enter another uncertain period in my life, i have to go through this all over again! *groan*
But I need to have a back up plan. If i don't get a job in case I move with A to the US, then I can at least study with these scores. Provided I get good ones. OK now, focus Rimli. Since I have to write the exam, I thought I should start preparing now. So I went to a book shop today.
The first big step was buying a guide book, coz God help me, i really need some guidance. It is a big fat Barron's guide book, with a CD, and no matter how put off I was, it is still a new book and that brought a smile to my face! In all my enthusiasm, the next step was to write my name on the book, like i always do (wow, i just realised i really need to brand everything. i am not a control freak, i am not a control freak. Really.) Anyway, after writing my beautiful name in my beautiful handwriting, i started to scan the contents. Drum rollllllllllll Bang! :-O *I am feeling very overwhelmed*. But a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. So i told myself again what an awesome person i am and that there is nothing i cannot do if i set my mind once. And with that i took the final and most important step ---(). Did i hear someone say "Study"? No silly, i made a time table. Making a time table is the most indispensible part of doing anything successfully. You write the time and the chores, and promise yourself that you will follow it. So i made an elaborate routine and i hope it doesn't go kaput like my elaborate meditation plans. Ommmmmmmmmm........
Well, I will start studying tomorrow onwards, let's see what happens, studying Math after a decade. I don't know what will be my results. But YOU. Mr/Ms God. You have somehow given me an unbearable amount of mental strength--so I will give my 100%. I work best when someone challenges or dares me to do something. So I challenge myself---life, you are daring me to ace GRE? Wait and watch.

The Legacy of Debendra Nath Das

He was my grandfather. When a person whom you have known all your life dies, there are so many memories and things to write about him that you don’t know where to start. I am not very good at dealing with death, I guess no one is, but since I don’t talk about it, it consumes me from inside. But I thought of writing about Dadu today.

On February 13, 2010, we would have celebrated his 93rd birthday. Will any one of us live so long? Almost a century. Would we want to live so long? Was it worth it, for him? He lived long enough to see his son die, his wife die. I am digressing as usual. Like I said, I am not good at dealing with death. But this is a tribute to him, not a judgment on his life.

Speaking of his long life, the first thing that comes to my mind is the fact that he was a very disciplined man---yoga exercises every morning, meals at proper timings, right amount and variety, he had a very healthy lifestyle. I wish I could follow even a fraction of it. Well, Rima and I would groan every time he would make us walk instead of taking a rickshaw or bus. But we had a gala time when Thamma and Dadu took us to Shillong. I don’t remember much of that trip, I think I was in class 2, or maybe bigger. But I do remember I had fun, we visited lots of places. And we walked a lot!

Another hobby of his was gardening. He would walk kilometres and kilometres to get saplings from there, seeds from there and with strange interesting looking tools, he would turn the backyard of our RBI quarter into Farmville! I felt like Alice in Wonderland in that little farm of ours. You know, when you are young, everything seems to be so big, so all the fruit trees seemed gigantic---mango, coconut, guava, banana, jackfruit, and vegetables like potatoes, tomatoes, three types of chilly and the intoxicating lemon trees, cucumber, melons, gourds, the lovely carrots with the fern-like leaves, radishes, turnips, brinjal, beans, ladies finger, spinach, mint… oh I could go on and on. He didn’t grow flowers, he thought it was useless and not productive to waste space on something that only looks pretty. Well, he was practical. I remember the midnight snail hunts we went on together--- I would hold the torch and he had a sack of rock salt (Yo Supernatural!) , and then we would smother the poor snails with salt and find them dead next morning. I felt a little bad, but they were destroying the crops and I hated the crunching sound of snail shells breaking under my shoes! Making the fence with him was another fun job, we would break the bamboo and cut and slit them and since I had soft hands, my job was just to tie them up, he did the cutting part! Those were the days when I found creepy crawly worms fascinating. Oh my beautiful garden, I could get lost there forever.

Now everyone who knows me knows that I love photography. I am always the girl with the camera. It’s my way of holding on to a moment, everything seems to slip away from my hands and I try so hard to hold something, I fear I will forget it, so I have to capture it. Now, Dadu had a salary of Rs 20 back in 1930s but he loved photography too. So he bought a camera for Rs 75! Way to go Dadu! You know, those cameras where you sort of have to look through from above coz the lens is on top and you rotate this thing, like you see in old movies. I had it with me since a long time. But I think it’s been misplaced.

Speaking of cameras, another prized possession of his was his binoculars. Very good quality, one of my uncles gave him that. I loved those binoculars. I would spend hours lying on the terrace staring at the stars and searching for constellations. One of the most happiest moments of my life. I also loved his watch, which he had been wearing since decades, with his initials engraved on it. Ma has kept it for me, I will treasure it forever.

Travelling. He loved that. Thamma and Dadu saw a lot of places. Those were the days when you had to carry air pillows. ‘hold-all’, ‘bedding’ etc and travel in trains for days, and with three boys it must have been tough. But he saw some amazing places, and has the photos to prove that. My father and my uncles looking dashing in their blazers and caps and boots. Even when he was ‘old’, Thamma and Dadu went to Badrinath and Kedarnath and other places together. A story he always used to say was how another elderly couple sat in the tourist bus somewhere in the midst of the majestic Himalayas and the hubby would tell his wife: ‘Sharod dekho, ki drisshyo’ (Sharod see, what a scenery!).

Speaking of stories, another oft-repeated story was, of course, the ‘dhutra ful’ story, I don’t know what that wild flower is called in English, but it's only edible if u cook it. However, in Kaziranga or some other national park, an elephant ate that flower and ran amok and scared everyone. He would tell me this story again and again… although I was a kid then, that was one of the first times I realised that he was getting old, because he never remembered that he had told the story already. Old or not, he loved ‘Knight Rider’, and whenever David Hasselhoff would come running in the beaches on Baywatch he would point and say ‘Knight Rider’ every time. And call Salman Khan ‘Solmon’ haha. Teaching him Assamese was fun too, he loved it when Rima and I used to explain him the meanings. His fav word was ‘bhori’(leg), he said ‘puro body’r bhor ne pa gulo’ (The legs take the pressure/weight of the entire body), I had never thought of it that way before. ‘Athuwa’ (mosquito net) and buka (mud) he found fascinating. But I think Thamma spoke in Assamese more. He just learnt it, but felt more comfortable in Bengali. He would tell stories of pre-partition days, about our ancestral house in Silchar and also about places which are in Bangladesh now. How they just had to sit in a boat and cross the river to come to what is now India, how borders came up within someone’s land, compound. Fortunately, he had settled and had a steady job in a tea corporation in Assam before Partition so didn’t have to face the horrors, but he grew nostalgic talking about the places he went as a child, people he would never see, and people whom we have never seen.

When u have a tough life, with so many people dependent on you, you tend to be very economical. And money management is something I learnt from my father, who I think learnt it from Dadu. They were both so organized and planned so well, and it had been engrained in me since my childhood, when I was given Rs 2 as pocket money in nursery. Dadu gave me Rs 2,000 for my first NSC of Rs 5,000, which will mature this year, I will give a part of it to the poor in his name, and the rest I will invest again in his name! I think no matter how much you earn you can always spend (obviously), save and invest some amount and I subconsciously picked it from him. And I thank him for that.

You know, there are so many things I can say, I keep remembering this and that. But these memories will stay with me forever. I guess that’s what legacy is all about. He was not perfect, but there are some things about him which will continue to live even though he is no longer here. The last time I met him he was a withered old man, battling the cold like it’s the hardest thing in the world. My last words to him were almost the same as what I had told my father when I saw him last: “Don’t worry, everything will be alright”. Well things didn’t turn out alright but for one moment if they found peace in those words I would be happy. That day, we saw old pictures of Dadu and others, when he was a young man, self-reliant and strong, and that’s how I would like to remember him. He is grand, he is my grandfather.

Background to 'Of Karma and twisted justice'

The previous blog was written under the effect of antibiotics and fever... so please ignore the first two lines. Now people close to me know that I think a lot, and on a weekday when u are lying in bed with nothing to do, too weak to move, or talk to anyone coz of a sore throat, you tend to miss office (I can't believe I said that, God help me (and i say god only figuratively)). And in this state of acute depression, which is my usual state, (there, I said it), i happened to read the worst book possible. Let me give the background before that:
My colleague/friend Ap was telling me about these connected short stories, very happy happy love stories, with happy happy endings, and I told her to give to me coz well I needed some happy happy reading as i ws not feeling very happy. Now there was another book she had told me about, and Ap gave me that instead of my happy book!!!! So there I was, coughing away, shivering, wallowing in sadness as A was mean to me (we got engaged by the way, but about that later), and i thought let's read the HAPPY book. But noooooooooooo........ (echo echo echo...)
What she gave me was Pinki Virani's 'Aruna's Story' and I bawled like a baby, i mean from the inside. It was in that mindset that I wrote Karma and twisted justice. Now I need to write about this book although I don't have the words to describe it.
You may find it difficult to get this book coz of court case, that's what Ap tells me, but you can get a lot of info on the net. There have been numerous discussions on her. Although I have read the book, I think my mind has blocked some of the heinous parts, and anyway I am not here to give the summary of the book. In a nutshell, it's a story about a normal woman, with normal dreams, which were snatched away from her just when she was about to reach them. Aruna Shanbaug was a nurse in a Bombay hospital back in the early 1970s. Beautiful, ambitious, hardworking, in love with a doctor and about to be married. But she used to speak her mind if something was wrong. A particular person, who was a sweeper in the hospital, didn't like it. So he raped her. He was also a sadist. So he used a dog chain on her neck which cut of the blood supply to her brain. He also stole some jewellery and cash, worth 700 bucks i think. He was caught later, got just seven years and was free after that. Seven years only, you say? Coz according to the 1970s' legal terms, what he did to her was not rape and they convicted him only on the stealing part. Well, it was that time of the month and the guy didn't want his hands dirty, so you can imagine what he did, how he did it. He used a dog chain, I said that right? In those few minutes, Aruna lost everything, her brand new wedding sari inside a brown wrapping paper lying somewhere in that dark room.
Because of severe brain damage, Aruna lost her speech, sight, mobility; she would laugh or scream hysterically, but that's about it. But she could feel pain. That part of the brain somehow remained intact. I am only talking about the physical part, I can only imagine if she was able to think or not, and if so what would go on in her mind. Her fiance, nice guy, would come to her everyday for few yrs, bt then family pressure to get married, which was the practical thing to do, and he was gone. That was one of the most heart-breaking parts of the book.
Aruna is still alive; she is probably 61 now. Why is she still alive, that's all I could think of. And why did something like this happen to her, I think of that too. Because 'That's how it works', 'as you sow so shall you reap', what did she sow? I know there are million of sad and happy stories out there. And so many before me must have thought of this: Why does anything happen? And does it have anything to do with our actions? If not, then what's the point of being nice? Y not become animals and only follow our instincts for instant gratification. That's what the sweeper did and he is now roaming free, while even after decades Aruna still lies in the hospital waiting for justice.
How am I supposed to accept that?