Tags: 421 Brand Beedi Federation, Author Mohit Sharma, freelance talents, freelance talents championship, Mohit, Mohit Sharma, mohit trendy baba, Mohit-Trendster,Mohit/Trendster, Mohitness, Photography, Poet Mohit Sharma, Trendy Baba Mafia, Writer Mohit Sharma
*) – DJ Trendy Baba Love Mix
*Another experiment…fingers crossed.
(Freelance Talents Championship 2013 Qualifiers Winning Entry against Author Ambica Bhardwaj)
A chair rested under a delicate yet spreading tree, the only living thing that, at least, spitted a little puddle of shade on the dusty, baked earth. She spotted it from afar and lazily walked towards it. The clearing swarmed with tired yet mysteriously busy students, rushing from one person to another. Sometimes the way people talked and chatted continuously made her sick. “Nonstop un-creativity! or am I Heartsick.” She had a habit, a bad one hopefully, of noticing how people sometimes said meaningless things, ultimately stupid things and made fools of themselves in front of others. That too over and over again with new permutations and combinations just to prove that they learnt from past which actually is not the case.
She soon reached the little puddle of shade under the lonesome rather sad-looking tree and took a deep breath, gulping a bolus of hot, dusty air. Carelessly dropping her bag to the ground she carefully balanced herself on the chair and sat back, slowly wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. She wasn’t in a hurry and that sense of realization always made her do things leisurely.
After what felt like hours, she flickered her eyes open and looked around. Somehow she had managed to sleep in the middle of all the unpleasant chaos. The bustling throng had evaporated by now and only a few were scattered around either in tiny bundles or couples, some alone too. While scanning the remains of what seemed like a stubborn monster a while ago, she spotted a boy standing right in the middle of the diminutive desert of a parking lot.
He stood straight yet he had a peculiar laziness to himself quite similar to her. With his hands stuffed inside his pockets, he languidly paced around his bag and Hockey stick which were piled on the ground right besides him. She peered at him with observant eyes, absorbing every drop of fantasy that his appearance provided.
His head was heaped with a mass of half curly half wavy brown hair which crowned him beautifully. She gazed at them and deep down in the gossamer of her thoughts, imagined her fingers sinking into them. She instantly felt them… soft and teasing against her finger tips and a chill ran down her spine. The sinister sunlight molded his whiskey brown eyes into tiny slit which slightly curved upwards whenever he smiled. His features had a delicacy to them and it felt as if God had made him with brilliant finesse… exhibiting his skill and flamboyance. A small mystifying smile touched the corner of his lips and suddenly, he looked up at her.
She was caught. She felt streams of sweat gliding down her chest and she instantly lowered her gaze, rubbing her thumb against the palm of the other hand. Moments later she looked back at him and saw him standing, staring at the ground. She longed for those eyes to look back at her and this time she decided to look back into them. He playfully kicked a pebble and raised his eyes to her… But this time it was him who directly dropped his eyes to the ground. He was shy! And that, bizarrely, added another feather to his already mesmerizing collection. This boosted her buoyancy and she glued her eyes to him, drinking in every move. Another look and another exhibit of modesty. How cruel God can be sometimes, she thought to herself.
Moments later, a yellow bus purred into the parking lot, setting off the dusty ground into shallow clouds. For the first time, she moved her glance and peered at the bus. It was his bus. This meant he’d go away. A labyrinth of emotions settled inside her. He’ll go, she wondered sadly. But I’ll see him tomorrow again, that brought about anticipation. With the very same aloofness, he picked up his bag and draped it over his shoulder, Hockey stick in the other hand, and rather swiftly walked towards the bus. Once inside, she disowned him and started making circles in the sand beneath her feet with a firm yet dying straw.
The shy schedule continued for few weeks and finally the short circuit. It’s rarest of rare case to find a person with all the traits you dream about, luckily both of them were quite close to each-other’s dream stuff. After graduation Arshad cleared government exam, he was appointed as head clerk in the city archives department.
Arshad k paas mauka tha Noori ko hamesha k liye apnane ka par jaane se poehle uske Mama ne usko chetaya ki Noori ek Yahudi (Jew) hai aur Arshad ek Musalman. Us desh mey jahan ka itihaas in do samudayo k taklh rishto aur buri ghatnao se bhara hua tha. Apni jawani tak ka samay Arshad ne desh k bahar apne Nana k ghar mey bitaya jahan ka mauhaul dharmnirpeksh tha isliye Arshad zamini haqiqat se kaafi door tha. Use laga ki uske Mama apni beti k rishte k liye uspar nazar gadayen hai. Wo apne Mama ki izzat karta tha, wo halkate the par apni mehnat se unhone apne vibhag mey bada auhda haasil kiya tha.
Arshad apne Mama ki baat ansuni kar badi ummeedon k saath Noori k ghar uska haath maangne pahuncha aur uske gharwaalo ki laaten kha kar lauta. Usey bura laga ki “Aese hi mana kar dete colony k saamne chappalo se peetne ki kya tuk thi? Ab chahe desh ka Prime Minister bhi ban jaun us colony mey muh churakar hi chalna padega.”
Uske Mama ji uske paas dilasa dene k liye aaye par usne rukha jawab diya.
“Kya..Mama ji abhi beizzati aur pitai hui hai meri…aap mauke ka faayda utha kar apni beti ki setting karvane mey lage ho.”
Mama ji – “Ba-Ad..ab-Tameez…”
Arshad avsadgrast ho gaya aur usko fast food ki gehri lath lag gayi. Uska weight badhne laga aur usko Ulcer ho gaya. Uski naukri chhutne waali thi ki Mama ji phir aaye.
Mama ji – Tujhe samjhane k liye apni Bay…tee ki shah..di karni padi mujhe. Jaa…Hill….census record check kar kasbe ka usme tere matlab ki cheez hai.
Arshad ko hint mil gayi usne apne department k dher se Noori ka family tree aur khaandaan dekha to paya ki uske Par-Dada pravasi Musalman the jo yahan ki community k dabav mey Yahudi ban gaye. Ye baat Arshad ne us samuday mey faila di aur Noori k parivaar jaise achhoot ban gaya. Kuch kattar Yahudiyon se unko dhamkiyan milne lagi.
Idhar prashashan mey is baat se khalbali mach gayi, aage koi sampradayik ghatna na ho jaaye is se abhi sab niptane ka faisla liya gaya aur bade level par audit hua, jisme paaya gaya ki Arshad k Par-Par (Super) Dada ek Yahudi the jinhone parivaar samet Islam dharm mana. Arshad ne apna matha peet liya. Arshad k parivaar ki haalat bhi samuday k kuch kattarpanthi tatvo ki wajah se Noori k parivaar ki tarah hi thi.
Audit mey ye bhi paya gaya ki is kasbe mey sirf 2 parivaar hi aese hai. Dono parivaaro ne apni sampatti bech samudakiy coloniyon k beech mey ghar khareeden. Janta confuse thi ki kaun kya hai? Is sab k raazdar Arshad aur uske Mama hi the…kisi ko andaza nahi tha ki achanak se itne saalo aur peedhiyon baad ye kaise hua aur kisne kiya?
Arshad ek raat chupke se Noori k ghar ghusa aur usne unke sabhi tarah k chappal-jutey, jhaadu-wiper aadi chhupa diya. Agli subah poori tarah ashvast hokar Arshad Noori k ghar aaya.
Arshad – “Dekhiye Uncle ji…ye tera-mera ka bhed to insaan banate hai. Ab to humare beech ye bhed hi itna confusing ho gaya hai ki dono parivaaro ko border par rehna pad raha hai. Noori se ab kaun rishta karega….mere alawa? (he he) To is mushkil ghadika saamna hum logo ko saath milkar karna chahiye.
Aunty ji – Bhaiya log…aap hi samjhao Uncle ji ko, ladki bhi bagal mey jaa rahi hai aankhon ke saamne rahegi. Ye rishta economical bhi hai ji…ab tullu pump ya submersible khudvayenge hum dono parivaar to kitna kharcha aayega to ek hi tullu khudva lenge dono parivaaro k…isi tarah gas waali line, bijli ka meter, nagar nigam…aap khud socho kitni bachat hogi…ye deewar todo aur behtar kal se naata jodo. Jai Santoshi Mata…”
Aunty ji – “Aye ji..iski family ka phir se audit karvao…”