Gundagardi

Badashah Lodge, owned by and named after its owner, Badashah -- a "bahubali" Ex-MLA of Bihar Legislative council, is known for its discipline within the hostel and involvement in gang-wars outside hostel, is the residence of more than 200 students including plus two as well as university students. I spent my two year of plus-two there, as It was at walking distance from my college - St. Xavier's college, Ranchi. I am just sharing an incident here, which is still alive in my memories, even after more than six years. Here we go.

It was Independence day, after hoisting the flag in hostel, we planned to go for cinema. Of course we were planning for afternoon show, as we are not allowed to leave hostel after 7 pm. It was Friday, and movie had just released. I was little more excited to go to very first day of show. More than ninety lodge-mates, including seniors and few juniors, agreed to go together. It was not easy to get so many tickets on very first day. Show was supposed to start at 2 pm. Some of us decided to go little early around 1.00 pm to book tickets; rest of people could come later as cinema hall was at walking distance from our Lodge. I decided to go with seniors at 1.00 pm. I got scared after watching a long queue in front of ticket counter. It was virtually impossible for us to get tickets. But something happened, very cruel and sare-aam gundagardi, which made it possible.

My classmates, holding lather belts in their hand, followed three seniors with hockey sticks, entered the cinema hall from the front gate; They started dispersing people and finally they reached to the ticket counter. Most of people got terrified and flew away from queue, but some groups opposed and they end-up bleeding. They got tickets. Some thing happened after that which was unexpected. Some localites brought their gang for taking revenge. They were more than 50. We dispersed very quickly and tried to vanish in crowd. Now It was our turn to bleed.

Fortunately I got successful in disappearing in crowd, but, some seniors got caught, and I end-up being a silent observer of their misfortune. Once news reached our hostel, after few minutes, hundreds of lodge-mates reached theater for rescue. After seeing such crowd with hockey sticks, localites backed off and most of them flew away. Afternoon show was canceled by administrators and that left us frustrated and we end-up damaging every thing we came across in cinema hall including chairs, windows, posters etc. Polish was called and we holed up in our hostel.

Police reached our hostel, but, they were not allowed to enter inside hostel as Lodge owner was a Ex-MLA. They can not enter without taking his permission. They returned back. After 1-2 days of inspection, owner expelled few guys from hostel, and police cash was suppressed. Most of other culprits including me enjoyed the safe haven inside hostel. After that incident, I kept myself aloof from such activities. 

Ma Black-berry

It's lustrous skinny dark built drove me crazy. And I decided to bring it home. Now, It has been more than five months since we are together. It erased the memories of my old fleshy disgusting Nokia handset. I can touch it, hold it, talk to it, and play with it. It's more like a spouse, and even more. We spent hours together, and now It is an integral part of my life. I believe that we compliment each other; I could not have a more reliable, classy, handy, and user-friendly handset; And it could not have such a gentle proud owner like me. One thing I admire most about it is, it's soft squared touch-pad which makes it unique among all smart-phones. Beside this, I like it's curvy well-spread full qwerty keyboard, five dedicated media buttons to control media-player, special button for capturing image, and side bulging button for voice commands. It has almost all features what I wanted. Advanced features like -- gprs, gps, wifi, bluetooth, video recorder, enhanced media player, voice command input and many more; You just name it, and It has it. It's, even, very easy to install a black-berry as well as third party application through black-berry desktop manager. I want to thank it for being such an adorable friend.

Me And Terrorists

In the shivery cold of December, I was sitting on the bench, waiting for the 'Shakti-punj' express on 'Baraka-kana' Junction, with my colleague. It was a foggy moonlit night. Dense hazy layers of mist had made it virtually impossible to see beyond the few steps, as if nature was committed to facilitate the full privacy to the bunch of beggars sleeping on the floor of the platform. It was midnight time, and I was not hesitated to put-on three layers of sweeter and jackets on me. I was waiting, thinking, and wondering, "How do these beggars manage to survive such freezing winter?". I saw only few small pieces of grimy cloths with them. They must have adopted to such extreme conditions, that must be in their genes. I was not able to relate myself to them, so I had not much sympathy for them either. "If I were in there conditions, I must have accepted being a Maoist, rather than being humiliating and abused every moment", I thought. Then I looked around.

A deem yellowish light was coming from a invisible distant source, and that was only source of light other than moon. I decided to walk around for a while as I was feeling little drowsy too. I left my luggage -- a backpack and hand bag, full of books -- behind near to bench, now I was walking towards the light-source. As my visibility was restrained by hazy fogs, even after walking a while, I did not have feeling of walking as all places were appearing same, until I was very close to place where beggars were sleeping. There were two middle age women, one teen aged girl with her two infant kids, and one boy. I stopped there, and sat at bench for a while; I was facing towards the railway track. All of a sudden, I heard a giggling sound, and then heard some whisper too. I heard it again. I left that place and moved towards the railway track, a person was there across the railway track, I could feel his presence by sound of his foot-steps. He was roaming, and was talking to some one; as no body was around, It looked, initially, very funny.

Every thing was looking very dramatic. I did not give much attention, until I saw one other person restless after arrival of a local passenger-train. He jumped into the train, and was going from one boggy to other; he was pointing his laser beam to the person cross the track from various positions, and finally he came down from train and went across the railway track. After seeing the laser dance for a moment, my colleague came near to me. "Their activities are not normal, and they must be up to something", he whispered. A beggar jumped in front of us all of a sudden, "What did you see? What do you know about things going-on here", she asked. I was stunned. We were being monitored as micro-phones were planted at most of the places, and those whisper sounds were nothing, but, that was because of their constant conversation through walkie-talkie. And we were ignorant to all, so every thing was looking funny. "I don't know any thing", I replied. After questioning to us, she went across the railway track. Fortunately our train arrived after few minutes, and we left the platform in single piece. I was little horrified, but, I did not find myself different from them when I remembered my thought of being Maoist instead of spending whole life on platform.

An accident

I did not feel any pain until I saw the blood coming out of my head like a fountain. I got scared. I had never dreamed of some thing like this would ever happen to me.

"Are you all right, Dubey?", Dimpu asked me. "Dharman has gone mad", he added. I was surrounded by friends. I was taken to the nearest hospital. It was just 200 meters away from play ground.

I was still thinking what happened. We were playing cricket in school ground. I was doing wicket keeping. I appealed that the last delivered ball to be considered as wide ball. Dharman came by, and his punch was over my head. I could not believe, he did that. Every body was shocked. He was the 'Kusti' and 'Boxing' champion of Akhil-Bharti Sports tournament. It was like my head was stroked by solid rod.

"This is a police case. Go and register a FIR", Dr Ram said. "This is a police case of attack on a Brahmin boy by a Yadav". I still can not believe his that statement. How can one be so stupid. It was just an accident. "Do not listen to him, go and have stitches", Dr Datta told me. I was regular patient of him when I was 10. I had more than 5 stitches near eyebrow.

Next day, Dharaman came to my home, and apologized to me as he was being expelled from school for his this behavior. My blood was boiling for revenge. But, I had no option other than forgiving him as board examination was over our head.

BNP T/S

I am going to share few memories of my home town here.

When I close my eyes, and try to recollect some thing from past, a picture often pops-out in my mind, a image of a small town in the heart of Chhota-Nagpur, surrounded by the mountains from three sides. It seems like a place in the lap of nature. I can see a small boy carrying a bag on his back, running out of school and rushing all the way to reach play ground as soon as possible. Guest House, football ground, Club, Hospital, and a bunch of schools -- start dangling in front of me one by one. Those, who belong to this place, must have guessed by now. I am talking about my small home town 'Bhawanathpur Township', a raw material division of Bokaro steel plant. This place is blessed with all basic facilities -- Water, Electricity, Schools, Hospitals, Parks etc -- despite of being in the poorest region of country.

Public sector might be remembered as a failure story of Indian economy by next generation, but It has given a new life to thousands of people. I am one of the blessed individual among them. I spent my entire childhood there. Often I get lost in memories of those mountains, where I spent hours gossiping with friends, playing chess on the picks of mountains, and reading books in the lap of nature. Idea of making a raft using the bunch of bamboos for crossing the dam is one of funniest memories of my childhood.