Rania was a bubbly twelve year old girl. Beautiful like Cinderella, complexion as fair as Snow White, curious just like Alice in Wonderland and an adventurer like Little Red Riding Hood. Teacher’s favourite and her parent’s little princess she was. She lived in a small town of Raigad, a four hour drive from Pune.

One day in the month of June, when the summer vacations were about to end, Rania went with her uncle to buy new books, school bags and other items for the next session commencing in July. Little did she know that the first rainfall of the year would bring her a pain of a lifetime. It was raining heavily and she was about to reach the car with her Uncle after shopping and having her favourite cassatta icecream at her favourite ice cream corner. She got all drenched and was sneezing. As they reached home, her Uncle persuaded her to let him change her clothes as she was already shivering. With a sly smile and a devilish intention in his mind, her Uncle, on the pretext of helping her change her wet clothes, abused her sexually and she cried in pain for hours. Her parents were out of town for some work for one week. The next day, as she was shivering in fear and pain, her Uncle brought chocolates for her. She threw away the chocolates and was about to run away but he caught her and forced himself upon her again abusing her sexually. This went for 3-4 days and the day her parents were arriving, he warned her not to open her mouth otherwise she would have to face harsh consequences.  

Actually, her father was terminally ill and was being treated for the same in a hospital in Pune. Every month they had to go for a week for the treatment. She was well aware of her father’s health, so she kept mum. This abuse continued for months until one day, Rania conceived. She was not aware of it. After the first trimester her mother observed that and took her to a gynaecologist and asked her how all this happened. When Rania narrated the incident, her mother was devastated that her daughter’s culprit lived in the same house. She told everything to her husband, but he was helpess as he was bed ridden. Rania’s uncle took advantage of this situation and black mailed Rania’s mother to ask her husband to sign the property papers of their property in Raigad and Pune, in his name if they want him to go away from this place forever and save themselves from being mocked at by the society.

Rania’s father cursed his karma for having such a satanic younger brother. But he loved his only daughter and she was the apple of his eye. He transferred the property in his brother’s name and the latter left them forever. Rania was not physically fit to undergo an abortion, so her parents decided to take Rania to her ancestral village in Beed and give birth to the child there. But, it was not easy. Rania’s father, Mahesh was the son of the sarpach of a village in Beed and taking her there would mean tarnishing their family’s image. They decided to take her to an NGO in Pune and give birth to the child. Later Mahesh and Rania’s mother Aarohi gave their name to the baby boy born. Rania was admitted to a new school and she was also made to undergo therapies to come out of the trauma and pain.

But her pain did not end here. Destiny had something else in store for her. When she was 16 years old, her parents died in a car accident while returning back to Raigad from Pune. Rania was shatterred completely as the baby boy was her responsibility now. A neighbour who was a social worker, helped her in this plightful situation of hers. Sometimes God sends angels to help good people in times of turmoil. She was sent to a women’s NGO and the baby boy to a child care.

Later, Rania studied hard, as the little boy was her responsibility, and due to her efforts she received government scholarship and fetched a seat in one of the prestigious colleges of Delhi University. She learnt martial arts at the NGO and this boosted her confidence to a great extent. After graduation from the coveted Stephen’s College, Delhi, she prepared for the civil services and became an IPS officer in the first attempt itself. The first thing she did after joining the services was to further this grave issue of child sexual abuse. She took all NGOs under her region into confidence and started giving lectures at schools and colleges. Awareness was spread through social media, radio, newspaper and by word of mouth. Many girls and even boys, not only from poor localities but also from reputed families and good schools came to the forefront and shared their experiences of sexual abuse at home or outside. A helpline was started for this purpose and phones were installed in localities, school premises and other areas of the city. Many children were saved by this noble and courageous endeavour. Rania was felicitated for her work and was awarded for the same by the local bodies, state and central governments and her commendable work was featured in many international magazines and was also shown by broadcasting houses like the BBC and CCN, who also made documentaries on her life.

Rania is an old woman now. She retired from the civil services but she is as energetic and enthusiastic as she always was. She married a fellow IPS officer named Abhay. Her son is studying in Harvard and he aspires to be an Astrophysicist and her daughter is studying in the London School of Economics and aims to join the United Nations and serve the world. Rania stays with her husband in a small town of Kasaul in Himachal Pradesh where they continue to run an NGO by the name Umang, her baby brother’s name. Her husband has been her pillar of support and continues to be so. He admires Rania and is planning to write a book on her life, a biography and gift it to her on their 25th wedding anniversary next year. Rania’s husband is keeping this a secret and completing the book with their kids.

As Rania retires to sleep, Abhay, looking at her in awe and with pride, writes this story to mail it to their kids in Boston and London. He concludes the day by dedicating these lines to Rania :-

“I saw life in you more than I could ever have lived it myself”.

And switching off the side lamp, taking off his spectacles, he sleeps beside Rania, feeling blessed to have a wife like her.

Hello God, how are you? I know that you are always fine because you are God. Sorry if I sound a little bit sarcastic, but when you will know the reason behind it, I hope that you will forgive me for this attitude of mine and become more benevolent towards me and my close ones. I am very thankful to you and bow my head in front of you a zillion times for all the compassion and the kindness that you have bestowed upon me till now, but today I have a humble request to make to you and I wish that you will definitely consider fulfilling it because it comes from a person who is a staunch believer in you and your existence. I believe you are the only sole and supreme power in the whole universe and you listen to prayers that are sacredly uttered in front of you with a pure heart, true emotions and feelings without any malice.

I request and pray to you God to please not impose any harsh sufferings on any of my close ones. I understand that every creature in this world has to suffer at times based on his past or present karma, but it’s very mentally excruciating for a person like me to see my close ones suffer even if they are bound to, based on the theory and law of karma. May I humbly request you that from now onwards, please free them from all sufferings and instead whatever sufferings they have to bear in their life, be transferred to me. I promise you that I will never complain to you and face all the agony and pain with a smile on my face and will also not let others know about it even a little bit so that you don’t have to worry about answering any one about breaking the rule in my case. I will be really happy to tolerate any degree of pain rather than to see my close ones tolerating it. My sole intention is to only see that they remain pain free for the rest of their lives. I have no qualms or complaints if they are imposed with small sufferings but I cannot see them suffering enormously. I know that this sincere demand and request of mine is not materialistic, mean or unjust and hence I would be very happy to see my request getting approved from your side and hope that you will consider and act on it quickly so that my close ones can live a happy, pain free and carefree life for the rest of their life.

Hoping for a favourable response and immediate action in the matter.

Thanking you in anticipation,

Reverently yours,
Ketan Doshi.

Note:- This prayer was penned by me in context of my mother when she got cancer and was operated upon for it. As a son, I was badly shaken by this incident and pleaded to God to transfer and inflict all her sufferings upon me.

This was sometime back in October 2017. I got unintentionally enrolled into a clay workshop that was being held in the city. I reluctantly agreed to go.

I reminisced about the time we played with clay as kids … we would find small lumps of clay in the heap of sand when there was a construction going on in the neighborhood. We would collect them and give them different shapes, based on our imagination. Those were the days when Barbie was not born – or may be still unknown to us. Though I was fascinated by the artists who created beautiful dolls from clay, I had no experience with making these dolls except those during my childhood.

Now I was suddenly enrolled in a workshop! The day dawned, and as I reached the venue, I saw that 99% of the participants were kids. I felt like I had landed on the wrong planet, and was almost about to turn back when I saw a couple of ladies enrolling for the same. This gave me some relief that I had not entered kindergarten at middle age.

The program started with some games and kid talk, which again was a pricking to the senses – ‘Am I in the wrong place?’ Later they distributed the clay. And that was when I was transported to a different world. I was oblivious to my surroundings and gleefully put my hands into the soft clay. The clay beautifully refused to obey my every whim and fancy … whatever I wanted, was there for me to create. But with some effort! And if I didn’t like the image, I could re-mould and create a new pattern. The rule here was to create the image before the clay hardened. That was the only criterion. Time flew, and hunger forgotten. Kids and grownups alike, were all engrossed in the simple act of moulding clay. And I could see that each person was enjoying every minute of it. Happy place, happy people.

At the end of the session, these lessons I took back home with me – I will never haggle with a roadside vendor for a ‘better’ piece of craft. I will learn to appreciate the effort that goes into the making because each handcrafted piece of art is beautiful with all its flaws. Second, whenever stress knocks at the door, just get your hands on some clay! Get back to childhood for a while.

She lived… Today, as I turn back and see the days that I spent with her, a short touch of a soft feather… Today, I thought about her… I love her… She lived.

The dark side of the lone heart murmurs a soft song. It bleeds… Until the last thick blood drop, it bleeds, and it bleeds away the pain… Ah, the sound of a terror hits upon the sailors ship… It doesn’t sink… It doesn’t sink at all… The music’s on… In the backyard it still plays like a nightingale bidding her final farewell. She lived… in the twentieth century. Who was she? She had these pretty eyes who could fix a smile upon my little face… The doors are shut and I’m in a lost land, searching for the shining stars… In her eyes I saw a thousand sparkling stars…

The amount of love that she gave is enough for a life span to remember… In her eyes I saw ancient tales. And her eyes were connected with my soul to search and seek sanity. She lived in the era where the Kings and Queens ruled the land. Across the empty shore, away from the filthy land, she sculpted her dreams. Alas, the dreams were taken away by some inmates who had no clout over the terrain. There was a time where it used to rain, always… Ah, yes, I said, always. And we used to stare upon the little branches which used to plunge little drops of unsullied water. Ah, fresh smell of the wet sand and the slow arrival of the December haze… Life… Ah, it hurts to recollect memoirs… I never used to write diaries… I never used to keep photographs… All that hurts me… We’re no man’s army to fight against the freedom that our great savior has granted us with. Today, I remember her. She lived. Until the lost moment, she will live in me… In my memories, she’ll… for ever and ever…

Note: This post is about my great grandmother. I do remember her. I loved her a lot. I guess I was 5 years old when she passed away. We both were traveling in a bus from her sister’s place, and she reached back home, and slept. She had mentioned to me that her head was aching. I never knew her time had come. Respect them. All of us will one day have to go through the same life. Respect grey hair.

Withering the infallible winds
Basking in the sunny sunshine
Drenching in the rains and shine
She went ahead taking all in stride.

She knew she was meant to rise
Not burn to ashes with hopes subside
Failure was never answer to her dreams
Progress smooth and slow through pains and screams.

Nothing could baffle her spirited fervour
She was the answer to all life’s fear
Tiny steps she took but steps indeed
Towards love and light galloping stead.

The Sun had to shine the Rain had to go
Her optimistic skin would not take any sore
It promises her a bank full of hope and love
Never to cry or feel the feelings perturb.

रेत सी फ़िसलती ज़िंदगी,
तपती पिघलती वक़्त की आतिष में,
बन जाती है सूरत कॉंच की,
खनकती चमकती है हयात उसकी,
लेकिन ज़रा सी ग़म की आंधी बिखेर देती है,
तब्दील कर देती है शक्शियत उसकी,
वक़्त की ये ही ख़ासियत है शायद,
हस्ती बनाती भी है और मिटाती भी।

इस देश के और शहरों की तरह है ये शहर भी, उत्तरप्रदेश के दक्षिणी पश्चिम में, दिल्ली से 4 घंटे दूर था फ़िरोज़ाबाद, जिसे सुहाग नगरी के नाम से भी जाना जाता है, देशभर में विभ्भिन रंगों की कॉंच की चूड़ियाँ यहीं से बन कर जाती हैं। हर भारतीय नारी के सुहाग की निशानी और श्रृंगार का अभिन्न रूप है ये कॉंच की चूड़ियाँ, मगर, जहाँ ये किसी के सौंदर्य को निखारती और चमकाती हैं, वहीँ दूसरी ओर किसी की ज़िंदगी को उजाड़ती और बुझाती हैं। भारत की आबादी और गरीबी से हर शख्स वाक़िफ़ है। दो जून की रोटी के लिए हर रोज़ ज़िंदगी को दाँव पे लगाना पड़ता  है।

ऐसी ही ज़िंदगी गुज़ार रहा था असीम, एक 12 साल का लड़का जो अपनी विधवा माँ के साथ फ़िरोज़ाबाद की एक कॉंच की चूड़ी बनाने वाले कारखाने में काम करता था। तंग गलियाँ, ना धूप ना हवा, बस धुआँ ही धुआँ, ये ही थी उस जगह की कड़वी हक़ीक़त। असीम रोज़ सवेरे नमाज़ अदा करके और मदरसे में तालीम हासिल करके कारखाने में 8 घंटे की मज़दूर करता था। माथे पे शिकन, हाथों में चोट के घाव, पैरों में बवाईयाँ, कपड़ों पर सूत की चादर, ये ही उसकी पहचान बन गई थी। यूँ ही दिन गुज़रते गए और अकेली माँ का साथ भी कुछ दिन का ही था। पिता के गुज़र जाने और बहन के खो जाने के बाद, उसकी ज़िंदगी में बस एक माँ ही थी। धीरे धीरे असीम का रुझान शायरी और नज़्मों में होने लगा। मदरसे के उलेमा ने ऊसके हुनर को पहचाना और रोज़ाना उसे कुछ लिखने को देते, और दूसरे दिन उसे सुनते और सुधारते। असीम भी बड़ी ईमानदारी और उत्साह से रोज़ काम के बाद तालाब के किनारे बैठके कुछ ना कुछ लिखने लगा। ये ही एक ख़ुशी थी उसकी ज़िंदगी में। कभी कभी काम पर ना जाकर, उलेमा की दी हुई किताबों को पढ़ता रहता दिन भर। बाकी बच्चे तो काम के बाद खेलते, या हुल्लड़ मस्ती करते, मगर वो सिर्फ पढ़ता, लिखता या सोचता। अनपढ़ माँ ना समझ पाती थी उसका ये शौक और फटकारते हुए कहती उससे “साहुकार ने आज रोज़ी काट ली, अब हम खाएँगे क्या, ये नज़्म”?।

मगर तकदीर को कुछ और ही मंज़ूर था। एक दिन उसकी माँ की हालत बहुत खराब हो गई। सरकारी अस्पताल में भर्ती कराया, तो पता चला की टी. बी. है। बचने की गुंजाईश काफ़ी कम थी। उसने निजी दवाख़ाने में दस्तक दी, मगर सबने भगा दिया ये कह कर की बिना पैसे जमा किए इलाज नहीं हो सकता। यूँ ही वो माँ को लेकर दर दर भटकता रहा। कई दिन एक टूटे से ठेले पर रास्ते में ही माँ ने दम तोड़ दिया और इस दुनिया से रुक्सत हो गई। असीम टूट गया और आसमान की ओर देखकर सोचने लगा –

गरीबी और बीमारी बड़ी वफ़ा निभाते हैं,
ख़फ़ा तो ज़िंदगी ही लगती है,
जब रहती है तब भी,
और जब नहीं रहती तब भी।

असीम ने कारखाने का काम छोड़ दिया और दरगाह के बाहर फूलों की चादर बनाने का काम करने लगा। खाना खैरात में नहीं खाना था मगर पढ़ाई जारी रही। वक़्त के साथ उसकी मेहनत रंग लाई और असीम को अलीगढ़ मुस्लिम यूनिवर्सिटी मे उर्दू की तालीम लेने के लिए दाखिला मिल गया, वो भी सरकारी खर्चे पर। ज़िंदगी अब बदलने वाली थी। वाहद हुसैन नाम के एक प्रोफेसर ने असीम के हुनर को पहचाना और उसे किताब लिखने को कहा और साथ ही उसे किताब से संबंधित हर प्रकार की मदद का भी आश्वासन दिया। असीम की किताब छपी और रातो-रात बिक भी गई। उसकी किताब की और भी नकले छपी और नए संपादकों ने असीम को एक से बढ़कर एक ऑफर दिए। असीम की प्रसिद्धि देशभर में बढ़ने लगी और वो मुशायरो और कवि सम्मेलनों में जाने लगा। रेडियो और अख़बार में भी उसके इंटरव्यू आने लगे। विद्यार्थियों और नए लेखकों के लिए अब असीम रोल मॉडल बन गया था। कई साल बीत गए।
असीम ने अपनी कॉलेज की साथी रुकसाना से निकाह कर लिया। असीम बड़ी ही खुशहाल ज़िंदगी बीता रहा था, मगर एक दिन, वो मस्जिद से नमाज़ अदा करने के बाद अपने बच्चों के साथ घर लौटते वक़्त कुछ देखकर विचलित हो उठा और उसे अपना बचपन याद आ गया जिसे वो कबका पीछे छोड़ चूका था।

वो सारी रात सो ना सका। उसने सुबह ही फ़िरोज़ाबाद की ट्रेन पकड़ी और उसी जगह गया जहाँ वो बचपन में रहा करता था। आज भी इतने सालों बाद कारखाने में बच्चों की हालत देख कर वो अंदर से फिर टूट सा गया। उसने एक गैर सरकारी संगठन खोलने की ठानी जहाँ वो ऐसे बच्चों को आसरा दे सके और उनके माँ-बाप का दवाख़ाने में मुफ़्त इलाज़ किया जा सके। उसने इस गैर सरकारी संगठन का नाम रखा “शमशाद आसरा“ और “नर्गिस दवाखाना”, अपनी माँ और बहन के नाम।

असीम की प्रसिद्धि की वजह से और लोग जुड़ते गए और कई बच्चों का जीवन सुधारा गया। मीडिया ने उसके काम को सराहा और सरकार ने भी सहायता दी इस मुहिम को आगे बढ़ाने में, मगर आज भी असीम जैसे लाखों बच्चे रोज़ कहीं ना कहीं, किसी ना किसी जगह बाल मज़दूरी करके अपना बचपन और ज़िंदगी खो रहे हैं, और कम उम्र में अपने माँ बाप को भी। हमें और बहुत सारे असीम चाहिए। क्या आपके अंदर है कोई असीम?।  

आज असीम उस गैर सरकारी संगठन के बाहर खड़े होकर, अपनी माँ और अपने बचपन को याद करके, अपने बीवी बच्चों से सब बयान करते हुए कुछ यूँ गदगद हो जाता है :-

कॉंच सी ही तो है ये ज़िंदगी,
मगर इसे संभालना होगा।
वक़्त और तक़दीर की आंधी से,
तुम और मैं की रंजिश में,
हम का वजूद नहीं रहता।
आओ हम, इस हम का वजूद बनाएँ,
और यूँही ज़िंदगी से ज़िंदगी बनाएँ।

Bio: Pradeepti is a banker by profession, but loves words more than numbers. Intrigued by the fine nuances of life, like music, art, literature, and love. She loves cooking and dancing. Children make her joyful to the core. Spirituality and philosophy define her existence.

Chairman, Aryan Group of Institute

Someone’s sitting in the shade today because someone planted a tree a long time ago. (Warren Buffett)
Today it pains to see trees are axed in the name of development for road widening projects. Development & road widening is a welcome move, but hacking of trees is not. It would be criminal to destroy so many trees in the name of development or road widening. On the other side, instead of always blaming the concerned authorities for not taking appropriate steps, we as individuals, too have a moral responsibility towards our environment. Collective effort towards well-planned forestation is the only way to rebuild our environment.
During my school days I was interested in history subject & I was very passionate to build beautiful monuments like Taj Mahal, Red Fort or Qutab Minar, so that people can remember me forever. I thank my History teacher who explained to me that it is very difficult to build monuments because it takes lots of money & time. She suggested me to plant trees which are very easy and economical to be planted but more beneficial than monuments & people will remember you like king Ashoka the great.
Planting trees became my passion. I started planting trees from my school days. I was helped by my friends and encouraged by my teachers & I am always thankful for their guidance & support. I chose to plant fruit bearing trees so that it would not only provide shade but also give fruit to the birds & animals.
The habit of planting trees continued even after I passed out from my school. I always prefer to gift trees to educational institutes & to my friends especially when they invite for the house warming ceremony.
Time is the thief of memory. After a gap of four years I visited Arabic School near Tumkur, It’s around seventy kilometers from Bangalore. During my first visit around four years back I had planted saplings of fruit & flower trees. It’s been so satisfying to see students studying under the shades of trees, wind whistling through the leaves, birds sitting & singing on the trees. As I try to collect my thoughts & recall the years that have gone by, there’s a touch of emotion in the recognition of the fact that the years have flown.
All of a sudden, the Principal came & wished me. He too was very happy to see the green & clean environment. He asked me a simple question : How would you like to be remembered ?
I was very surprised by the question  and I just replied : As a person who did very little good deeds.
The Principal smiled & said these golden words which I still remember : Good works do not produce faith but faith should produce good works.
I do not want to build monuments to be remembered forever, let me keep planting the trees & hope people will remember me as a person who did little good deeds or at least did no harm to anyone. Let’s do some good work every chance we get and change the world by doing at least one good deed at a time. If we don’t do it, who will?
We are remembered for the things we do. Good deeds are like beautiful monuments but built with memories instead of stone.
Every time you do a good deed you shine the light a little farther into the dark. And the thing is, when you’re gone, still that light is going to keep shining on, pushing the shadows back. (Charles de Lint)

It was as usual a cold morning. The dawn burst out through the pane to tickle me awake. All these days, I have been dreaming a lot. That sky knows it all. My dreams and reality at times blend for awe struck illusions. Hey, hey, hey, am I supposed to think different? Hey, hey, hey, isn’t it the other way? Those were the two questions exchanged while glaring at myself in the mirror to say Hello and Bye.

Two long days made whole lot of a difference to the way I foresee things. I think it made a lot of changes in the outlook towards the society. This blog might not entertain many out here since it’s not a poem, experience or anything related to music. It has to be something that all of us think or would have thought at least once or more than that. Inward questions are something which makes us pen or whisper, and let it reach through the lonesome hearts. You know it’s true.

All the things that you seek will have two reasons. Maybe tomorrow the same ideologies that you search for will get back to you. Oh yes, that’s life.

The person in front of me is none other than my mirage where I see him through this pane. I know that the only person who understands or rather encourages me is the person I see in front of me. That’s me. Of course, it’s me. Long gone days beckon the warm tomorrow, where I changed my belief in an optimistic manner to stamp the fact that I can make a difference… to this world… the place where I live and the society that I belong to…

Yes, I can! That makes a lot of difference. It took me almost thirty six years to get it right. I can! Yes, I can… and I’ll…

You know it’s true and all that we see turns out to be for our own good. Well, that’s how we spread our positive energies. Don’t we?

Long lived my grandfather. once when he was late for a meeting, stated regretfully that he will never ever show up his face to the crowd who waited for him. Words… Oh well, he taught me all that… I remember him today for his hard work and those values that he taught me. I know nobody can forget the way he or she has come up in their lives. We all look back and see how at one point of time it all seemed so hard for us… on us… But yes, we have crossed the seas, thorn fields and have reached heights of the distant hill that wistfully looked at us at one point of time. Life changes so fast. It’s a matter of time…

Dream…Oh, that’s very important said my grandfather. He dreamt a lot. He wanted to take his driving license at the age of sixty five and he did achieve all his dreams until the last moment in his life.

Today, at this very moment, I discard everything for humanity… I believe, I can make a lot of difference to the society that I live in. Today, when I look in the mirror, I see a smile on my face. Today, I have decided not to look at my past. Today, I believe all of us can make a better tomorrow… Together we stand… All these small things for sure will make a lot of difference… Dream on…We never know if tomorrow belongs to us… Fight for a reason and Let that reason be Humanity.

I was 22, had just finished my education and was into my father’s business and a candidate for marriage. One fine day, I with my family was going to the house of another family to see their girl who too was a candidate for marriage. It was just my second instance of seeing a girl. I was feeling calm and composed as I had already experienced this ritual once previously. This time it was through a common friend that we were going to see this girl.

We reached the destination and after conversing with the girl’s family for a little while, as usual like in the Hindi movie style, the girl aged 20 came out with the tray of snacks and tea and then the usual questionnaire from my family members followed and then after some time we were left alone to converse with each other. I asked her about her educational qualifications and she replied aptly. I came to know that she was a beautician. She just looked a very simple girl to me. She was short in height, just 5 feet tall and me a 6 feet tall swanky guy, but what initially bowled me over was her innocent looking face, the twinkle in her eyes, her simplicity and her beauty.

Subsequently what happened was funny. The girl, then started the round of questioning and I blushed a little (Don’t laugh friends, blushing is not the sole property of the ladies). She said it was for the first time that she was seeing a boy and then asked me “Do you smoke or drink? I said “No, I am not that type” and she felt very happy with my answer. Then she asked about my education, my nature and my hobbies and I gave all the answers accordingly. It seemed like we immediately clicked with each other. We finished the short conversation and thereafter both the families discussed for a while and then dispersed. We had to give an answer to our common friend in a day or two and also the girl’s family needed the time for their decision.

While returning back, my mom asked me about my opinion and I said “Yes mom I like her”. She said “Son, but she is very short in height” and I replied “But mom, I really like her” and then comically told her “Aren’t Amitabh and Jaya married with each other?. And if they in spite of their height difference married, then why cannot I and this girl marry?”. My mom laughed and said “Oh, is that so?. My son, so you really like her, then we will call her family in the morning and convey our readiness for the relation”.

Next day morning, my Father called the common friend and gave him the approval from our side, on which he exclaimed “Great, the girl’s family just called me before your call and they have given their approval for your boy”.

And thus it just happened that we got bonded in the beautiful and sacred relation of marriage.

Today, after over 28 years of our blissful marriage, there is no looking back for us. Still we are very much in love with each other and get along like a house on fire. She is my soulmate. The romance and camaraderie is still very much on between this Amitabh and Jaya Jodi and to add to it, God has gifted us with two beautiful daughters and they both in the height factor resemble me.

Not a single day in our lives has it happened that we have not spoken with each other because we cannot live without each other. Difference of opinions do happen like it happens with every normal couples, but we manage it nicely and she always is the less egoistic one who always pampers me for reconciliation and I even with a stern face immediately fall for her innocence even today and then it’s a happy ending every time.

Friends, I would like to dedicate a lovely song for my soulmate here with all of you : –

“Tum Se Hi Din Hota Hai,
Surmayi Shaam Aati Hai,
Tumse Hi, Tumse Hi,
Har Ghadi Saans Aati Hai, Zindagi Kehlaati Hai,
Tumse Hi, Tumse Hi”.