Excuse

‘Sometimes life isn't fair. Happiness is a long shot when your immediate aim is to Survive and live another day. But that's the beauty of life, it's finite. We know it ends, all the misery, all the happiness, it ends. And in the end, all that matters are how much you laughed, how much you gave, and how much you lived, and that is sojourn of life’ he read to himself, scribbling onto his notepad. The newfound city life had gotten to him, he was an optimist, but the shift changed that about him. Urbanization was imminent for his family, his father was the only engineer in the town, and he found better job opportunities in the city, and so they moved. Life was simpler in the town, the city now posed troubles for the feeble mind of Vikram, he had never expected life to be so harsh on the lesser privileged sections of the society. His life was simple enough for him, his ambitions revolved around being able to build a house, provide for his father, buy a fast car, and raise as many dogs as he could, but something changed deep within him, when he saw people sleeping on footpaths. He had heard about it, that some people are lesser privileged than he was, but the reality now loomed in front of his eyes as they lay on the footpath, the cold was intense, and they had just a few rugs to guard them from the stings of the icy breeze.

‘Lay out your bedsheet, and sleep early. First day at college tomorrow, you wouldn’t want to get there too late! Go make some friends and make your father proud.’  Just as these words were ringing in the scantily filled house, ‘Wouldn’t want to get there too early and be awkward either’, Vikram yelled back and went to sleep. Vikram had lost his mother when he was born, his father loved to spoil him by never rejecting any idea he had. While that was amazing, he was too protective as well, monitoring every step he took. As he lay on the bed, glancing onto the moon through the window, he spoke softly to himself. ‘What would you do Ma? There are people out there who aren’t as privileged as I am, I’m glad I have all that I have, but do I stay complacent with that, or do I risk it all and try to get more out of life? I mean, Dad gives it his all and makes sure I get whatever I want, but when the time comes, do you think I should take that leap of faith?’ His father was busy unpacking the boxes, but he knew Vikram was moved by what they had passed by. Raising Vikram was no easy task either, his head full of questions, too many for a single father to answer, but he answered them anyway. However, one question still lingered in his head from when Vikram was just a child. Vikram’s mom was an aspiring writer, and the house was more often than not, filled with books about everything under the sun. Soon after Vikram was born, she passed away, and then, even his father had a question, ‘Why God? Why Me?’

‘Dad, did you know that there were these huge wars called World Wars? A lot of people died apparently!’ an excited Vikram had come home from school once. ‘Our teacher told us these bad people did a lot of bad things to good people and that they lost the war in the end. Isn’t it right that good people always win?’ he said with a smile, and his father patted his hair and said,’ Well, in short, that’s what happened. Do good people always win? Yes, they do, but at a price.’ Vikram didn’t really understand what this price was, but never really bothered asking, but it was stuck in his head. A few years later, he tumbled over a pile of his mom’s books, and came across a book describing the genocides committed during the World Wars. His father tried snatching it away, but he managed to convince him to let it be. ‘Wenn es einen Gott gibt muß er mich um Verzeihung bitten’ the photo read, and the translation ran as follows, ‘If there is a God, He will have to beg my forgiveness.’. He might have been a young kid then, but the effect was profound. As he fell asleep, his father took the book from his hands and got rid of it for the good, but not before seeing what he had been reading. His own thoughts weren’t that different, to him god wasn’t just the messiah people thanked in good times, but he was also the one who let bad things happen to good people knowing that they were never at fault.

‘First day of college! Do you want some coffee, tea? You should be exci…’ his sentence was cut mid-way with a shriek and, ‘Anirban! Shhhhh! Your son is busy trying to get ready’ Vikram yelled, again. ‘Young man, learn to listen to other before speaking next time around’ he couldn’t stop smiling while he tried to chide Vikram. ‘Let’s Go Dad!’ he said, gobbling down the sandwiches, a common sight in the house when he was nervous. ‘People make a lot of hullabaloo over these first impressions, and to an extent, it’s true. But you want to know what’s so much better than worrying about first impressions? Planning for when they realize you’re so much more than just what you appear like. People will judge you, they might even tease you for being a town boy, but there’s nothing to be ashamed of, it’s only a matter of perspective, and won’t matter as long as you don’t bow to the pressures. The only definition of you that matters, is defined by you. Now go get yourself a degree, and some memories to treasure for a lifetime’ that’s what he wanted to say, but he knew Vikram was smarter than that, he just said, ‘Don’t get into trouble Kiddo, go learn something new.’ Vikram knew his father was a tough man, he knew he was tougher. Unlike other teenagers who’d pick colleges based on rankings, popularity, party culture, placements, etc. he picked his college based on the hours of community service they’d put in. He wanted to make the world a better place, or at least that’s what he thought.

‘Ladies and Gentlemen, unlike what you might have read in your school textbooks or any other books prescribed to you, I’d be trying to teach you, or rather guide you through, History as we know it. A very common phrase I’d love to throw around, is that history is so often written by victors, that we forget the losers point of view. And as all stories go, our history is only as good as the person who’s writing it down. In this course, you’ll have the distinct privilege of reading about historical personalities, and what they did to immortalize themselves. The course credi…’ there was something of an incredible aura around Vikram’s history professor, Beena. She had a different way of looking at things, and Vikram was sold on her ideas and ideologies, in the months to come, she was a significant factor in shaping his personality. ‘So Vikram, you’re finally done with this semester’s courses. What do you plan on doing this summer break? Still inspired by Swades to build a dam and generate electricity for a village, or have you thought of something practical?’ she couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘Well, there was always that plan, but don’t quite have it yet. I believe, I’ll work on some social cause or the like. The idea is, I give something back to the society, fill up that hole in my conscience that caved in when I first came to the city, and then move on with life.’ Months had passed by in a flash, and Vikram still remembered the sight of those sleeping on the pavements. His father was waiting in the car, and as Vikram settled into his seat, he said, ‘I’ve been promoted at work Vikram, I know it’s great news, but that means we wouldn’t be able to do the fundraiser for the homeless, as I’ll be busy with the new construction project.’  And just as he expected, Vikram was angry, he’s generally not the kind who’d get mad for cancelling on him, but this was huge.

Not many people put others before themselves in any thought, but Vikram had grown to be quite the opposite. His father too was never restrictive, let Vikram do whatever he wanted to, never forced him to do anything he didn’t like. Vikram knew this too, he knew his father really had no other choice, but yet he found himself growing angrier by the minute. He asked his father to stop the car, and he got off saying, ‘I’m not mad at you dad, but give me a while to myself maybe? I’ll get home for dinner. Don’t worry. And I’ll let you know everywhere I go, you’ll always know where I am. See ya!’ His father new better, and just let this be and drove off. Vikram was fuming, and he didn’t really know what to do with all his anger and just sat down by a footpath, having lost all hope. ‘What’s up Ma! I know I can still do it without Pa, but it’s not the same anymore is it? What’s the point of me doing anything if he won’t be there to see it?’ he spoke to himself, looking at the sky. And just as he was lost in thought, a car zoomed past him and crashed into a tree right in front of his eyes. He ran to the car as soon as he could, he could hear people yelling behind him, someone was calling up an ambulance, someone was shrieking in horror, it didn’t matter to Vikram, all he could see was a dazy picture of a car that had just crashed into the tree, and that he needed to react quickly if he wanted to save anyone in the car. The car had skid and hit the tree sideways, and Vikram, along with a few other pulled apart the door and pulled out two women who were driving the car. The ambulance soon came by, and Vikram got on along with them impulsively, and by the time he realized, he was already at the hospital, filling up details and calling up their family to inform them of the accident. And he texted to his dad, ‘At the Hospital, but I’m fine. Don’t worry.’

‘Never got to thank you, wouldn’t mind joining us for lunch now, would you?’ a message read, on Vikram’s phone. It had been over a month since the accident, Vikram had stayed around long enough to ensure that everything was done to keep the women alive. He had visited them a few days later, and they’d exchanged numbers. He didn’t really want to go, but he did need a break from all the time he had been putting into the fundraiser, so he replied saying, ‘Alright, where do you want to meet up?’ He texted his dad then, ‘Off to the Coffeeplace’. He was almost done with all the preparation for the fundraiser, and his dad was pretty proud of him, though he never praised him, he believed it was about time he did. He offered to drop Vikram by the Coffeeplace that day, but Vikram turned it down, the busy daily metro trains had grown onto him, the longer he stayed out, the more he had started to love the city air, it was no better than his town air, but the city had its own charm. He was an ambitious guy with dreams of changing the world for better, making sure everyone would truly be on the same level playing field. Sometimes his dad would joke that Vikram was trying to play god by changing fates, to which Vikram would jokingly reply, one day I’ll meet him anyway, I’ll ask him if I did a good job. As thoughts mobbed his thinking, the crowded metro train crowd sucked him into the compartment, and so began the journey.

‘On the other side, apparently I was good enough.’, read a message on Anirban’s phone. He called back on the phone, it was switched off. He was in the office when everyone turned the television on, there was a bomb blast in the metro, many people were dead. And Anirban’s chest started pounding. He didn’t know what to do, he ran, ran to the metro station. Kept calling up Vikram, he was supposed to be on the metro, but he prayed to the lord, to not take his only child away, he had already taken the wife away, and now possibly the child too. It was only many days later, that they found Vikram’s body. Unlike others he hadn’t died in the bomb blast, he had died trying to rescue the others from the train crash due to the explosion. No one knew how many lives he had saved, but a truly gifted child was lost that day. Vikram, meaning valor, truly stood by his name. Many mourned his death, Prof. Beena was among them, ‘I had once told him, that only victors make it to the history books, but I never told him that the pages of history are written with the blood of the many who lose their lives along the way.’ Life is a gamble, smallest of the choices we make, change our lives for the better or worse. Fate on the other hand, if you do believe in it, can wreck your life like a hurricane, or bring warmth like the summer that marks the parting of winter. Destiny, however, works in mysterious ways. Anirban did nothing wrong, but he lost everything to tragedies. It so happens that being the nicest human doesn’t get you the kindest fate, if there is a god, he has his own twisted sense of justice and balance. Two months later, Anirban drove his car out early in the morning. It was winter again, and this time around, there was a home for the homeless to sleep in every night. Vikram’s idea of converting parking lots into mobile homes for homeless to sleep in the night and leave early in the morning actually worked. And just as Anirban stood there in silence, the world forgot about a hero who made the smallest change, and gave the biggest sacrifice.

There are millions of such stories, unlike this work of fiction, that actually happen. If there is a god, his scales of justice don't often match our expectations, yet we force through sorrow. Fate and destiny wreck many lives, but they still search for a reason to live on. Some budge and wither, but some survive the tempest. If they still find a reason to wake up the next day and put everything on the line to achieve what they aspire for, 

What is your excuse?


Dedicated to all the heroes, who's sacrifices were never recorded. 

All Smiles / Itadakimasu

‘Tut-a-toot, Tut-a-toot, Tut-a..’, the clock on the wall went on and on till Joel got up and plucked the plug out of the socket. He had missed the alarm, yet again, and he missed another interview. ‘I’ve got to stop sleeping in late’, he muttered to himself as he got ready for another interview which was scheduled for later that day. ‘One left today, one tomorrow, and two, the day after!’ he exhaled slowly as he bowed down to tie his laces. His pet cat, Noori, looked on as her master left again, for yet another interview in the last three months. Unemployment hadn’t gone down well with Joel, he had put on a couple ounces, and he had grown softer with time. He barely looked like his old self, an out-of-work Medico isn’t exactly the kind a Daily Newspaper would look for while scouring for journalists. His time in the civil wars as part of the NGOs he used to work for, was the only bright spot on his normal-looking resume.

‘Joel Shawn Teller, 35, Unemployed for the past three months, a trained doctor who’s worked in Gaza, Cairo, Tel Aviv and the like, Interested in Cooking! Hmm!’, the energy in the room dropped dead the moment the editor read Joel’s resume out. The interview went just fine, a lot like the other dozen he’d been to last month. Everywhere he went, there were two things common; First, that he’d always not get the job and second, she’d be there too. Just as he stepped out of his interview, he spotted her yet again, and he let out a smile he had accustomed himself to give out every time he ran into her. She smiled back too and shrugged her way into the interview room and as he saw her disappearing into the room he let out his real smile, a quaint smile and he walked out. It all started a couple of months ago, when he first walked into the office of a gossip magazine. His options were thinning down and he was just as desperate to get a job and spend his time writing, and that’s when he ran into her as he walked into the interview room. This went on for the next few weeks, and that’s when he decided to make a move, and hence he asked her if she was free for a cup of coffee later that evening. As he would have it, she said yes, and she ended up waiting for him at a coffee house as he overslept his alarm. They hadn’t exchanged numbers or names, but after that evening, he didn’t have the nerve to approach her ever again.

‘We meet again!’, she muttered this time. It was the last interview that month, and just like always, they had both applied for the same position again. ‘Can’t really help the fact that my luck kind of always runs out on me’, he let out a smile saying that. His heart was thumping harder, his pulse was racing, he hadn’t felt such a rush since he last ran his scissors and knives in the wars. She found herself at ease around him as her words rushed out without having to think twice, and before she knew it, she had already told him everything about her. They tanked that interview too, but it barely mattered to the both of them. They might have lost out on the job, but they won big on this friendship. And as they spoke over a multitude of cups of coffees, they found out more about each other and found themselves at crossroads on what they love. He had inherited a huge estate from his uncle, and along with that, a significant amount of wealth that’d keep him going while he was out of employment and a newfound tag of an orphan. She was the daughter of a diplomat and had lost her mother early in her childhood, and her father was now stuck in a civil war and couldn’t be flown out in time from the embassy. Joel had seen so much death in those wars, he knew her father didn’t stand a great chance of surviving but he kept mum about it and just kept listening to her. ‘I think I’ll get going now! Let’s meet again sometime?’, she said just as he realized how he had left her hanging the last time. ‘How about my place tomorrow for lunch? I could show you how I cook, and besides I can’t be late that way!’ he said, while his face made it plenty evident that he really wanted her to come. ‘Hm. I wouldn’t mind that. Noon it is then! Also, here’s my number.’ She said whilst writing down her name and number on a paper towel. He gave her the address and took the number and bid adieu. ‘Sonya, not too bad a name.’, ‘Joel, not that bad a name!’ they spoke to themselves in their heads as they walked out.

‘Oh, her name’s Noori! She’s a Bay Cat. Probably the last of her kind. Be careful though, she bites!’ he responded to Sonya’s inquiries. ‘Are you done with the preparation yet? I guess I’m a little too hungry right now.’, she said, as her face showed hints of grave hunger and just then, Noori bit her but she didn’t say anything though she was bleeding. ‘Come here! I’ll show you how it’s made, and maybe then you can yell at me for delaying it for so long.’, he said playfully. As she entered the kitchen she found a new person in there! Joel looked all cleaned up in his avatar as the chef. And with surgical precision he ran the knives along the meat to give them just the right amount of gashes in the right intensities. She was in awe, he was working like a machine, just when he was done with one item, he moved onto another with perfection, the transitions felt seamless, he was so good at it that she barely noticed that it went on for an hour and that she was hungry. ‘You have been served!’ he said, as kept all the dishes on the dining table. Just as she was done eating, her phone rang and she ran out with muffed tears after lifting the call. She ran out with her coat and he didn’t waste a moment to dart out after her. Call in Ill fate or just destiny, he tripped over a stone and fell, and when he rose there was no sign of her. He didn’t expect her to leave like that, but he couldn’t do much and that feeling of helplessness riled him up. He got home, only to find Noori tugging at her scarf, ‘You like her too?’ he said, wiping off the blood from her whiskers. He expected to see her at the next interview, but that didn’t happen, and it went on that way for the whole month. He was agitated, he felt the anguish building up within him. He had gotten used to seeing her all the time before every interview and the sudden withdrawal definitely affected him a lot for some strange reason.

‘So, can it be done or not?’, Joel yelled over the phone. He had contacted a black market insider to get him Sonya’s listed address from the phone number she had given him as it was a diplomat’s line and the telecom company wouldn’t tell him her address. ‘It’ll cost you a lot more if you plan on yelling like that mister!’ the voice on the phone said and Joel apologized and made a deal. He was clearly shaken and wanted to see her face again. His phone buzzed and he picked up his coat and ran to his car and pulled it out of the garage as the tires screeched. He found his hearth thumping and his pulse racing again. He felt like he was in a war again, or maybe he really was in one. And as the tires screeched again, to a halt this time, he stepped out and ran to the door and knocked without second thoughts. Out she came and his world was at peace again. ‘Joel! What are you doing here? How’d you know I lived here? I’m really sorry about tha..’ she was speaking alright, but he was busy just looking at her as he finally started thinking straight. ‘I was just worried about you, so I pulled a few strings and got your address. I could leave right now if you want me to.’ He said, fully hoping that she’d not say that. He really wanted to stay. ‘Nothing like that. Haha. Stay! Come on in, I’ll make you a cup of coffee.’ She said taking his coat.

‘My father came back home that day, but he wasn’t conscious when they got him in. They told me he had a stroke, so I ran to the hospital. He’s been in the hospital ever since, and I’ve been taking care of him. He just got better a couple of days back, and I guess he’ll be home tomorrow.’, she said as he sipped down his cup of coffee. ‘So that means no more interviews I guess? Haha, Just take care and stay safe.’ He said while getting up and ready to leave. ‘Nothing of that sort, Dad might get better in a few months, so I’ll probably get back to getting rejected then.’ She smiled and handed him back the coat. He prayed to the lord that she’d get back to the interviews this time, especially as he had been getting accepted off late, and he kept rejecting those offers in the hope that he’d see her in the next interview. His prayers were answered, as she showed up at the next interview. He went into the interview and spoke gibberish and got himself rejected and waited patiently for her to be done with her interview. ‘Oh there you are, How was the interview, and How’s your father doing?’ he asked while giving her a hug. ‘Oh, I got the job, and my dad? He died later that day. Apparently some nurse gave him the wrong sedative and that reduced his pulse rate a little too much and with no experienced doctors by the side, some doctor used the defibrillator and gave too hard a counter-shock and he passed away.’, her face was emotionless while she said it.

A month had passed now, and a knock on the door woke up Joel. ‘Morning Sir! We’re here to ask you something about the disappearance of Miss Sonya. We believe you knew her? Her call records show that she called you a couple of times last month before she disappeared.’ The police officers at his front door looked like they meant business. ‘Well, We are just acquaintances, we met at a couple of interviews, and I told her I was a doctor before, and she told me about what happened with her father. I suspected foul play and suggested that she file a police complaint seeking an enquiry into the death of her father. And if my memory serves me right she last called me a month ago telling me that she’s going to a Police Station at Church Street and thanked me for my help.’, he told them, while serving them some coffee. ‘Well, that corroborates with the evidence we’ve found so far. Thanks Mr. Teller. Some excellent coffee by the way.’ They shook hands and Joel walked them out, and as they were leaving Noori climbed onto his shoulder and coughed something onto his neck. ‘A finger? Now where’d you find that! Bad cat Noori.’ He smiled as he walked up to his refrigerator. He smiled again, a quaint smile, and shut the deep freezer and went to his interview. He was all smiles, why wouldn’t he be happy, he saw the same face that he was used to seeing before interviews, only this time it was severed and in his freezer.

Itadakimasu.