Façade

There was fervor at home.  His brother-in-law was returning from the US after having completed his Masters.   His in-laws too were arriving from their bastion into the city, to receive him.  His wife had loved the idea of the party he had proposed to hold welcoming her brother, where even his engagement into another prominent business family would be announced.  

Theirs was a love marriage - convincing her parents was not easy though.  They were landed and rich, while he came from a traditional, educated, but poor family.  However, the equations had only grown better with time; they appreciated his acumen, and how he had helped in recommending new ideas for their business, even though he had not formally joined in. He continued to build his career in the world away from the family. His brother-in-law - younger by several years - adored him. 

All the buzz had gone quiet with that one phone call.  The boy had been killed in a shooting incident at his University, just a day before he was to return to his motherland.  Squeals of laughter and mirth had turned into screams of pain and wails of sadness. Soon, the entire house became quiet as a grave, as relatives left, and grief hung like a cloud in the air. 

Days went by, and all the due rituals were complete.  He was sitting out in the lawns and contemplating over his drink.  His mobile rang.  It was manager of the hotel where the party was supposed to have taken place.  "Sir, I know you couldn't hold the party due to the loss in the family.  If you so desire, we will nominally deduct the reservation charges, and return the rest of the money to you.  Let us know soon". He said he would get back to them in a day or two. 

*********

"Wow, never did you host such a great do.  Love the spread, and the booze. Sheer class!"  His close friends admired the arrangements, and he beamed. 

"What is the occasion, M? Why this sudden party?" 
"I am just sharing my happiness..." he trailed off.
"And, that is?"
“You’ll know”. He winked and smiled. 

They were his best friends. But, he just chose to be careful.  Masks were important in the world.  After all, at home he was still the grieving brother-in-law. 

Justice or Closure?

(Part II of ‘the Rage of Angels)

He comes to his senses, after having been unconscious for over a day.  His state has given enough anxiety to his family.  He faintly hears the doctor saying, "looks like he is regaining consciousness.  Thankfully, the blow to the head was not threatening. He should be out of danger soon.  The orthopedic will now decide when the surgery would be carried out to fix his arm. Just physiotherapy is enough to fix the twisted ankle".  Slowly, the events that had resulted in him lying injured at the bus stop start coming back to him.  First hazy, and then more clearly.  He winces as he remembers the blows that he took as he had tried to save a woman being rammed by a bus.  

A week later - after surgery, recuperation and physiotherapy - he is discharged from the hospital, with advice to rest and recuperate and not work for at least another 3 weeks.  He worries about his job; his sister reassures him, showing the message from his manager, wishing him speedy recovery and the firm's approval of his medical leave. It is a relief. His paltry medical insurance plan has also helped in paying the hospital bills, and hasn't burdened any. 

His sister walks into his tiny room, and says, "The lady you tried to save? She has been visiting us at the hospital, and she wanted to come and see you". Rage runs through his body, even though he knows she didn't ask her husband to beat him.  "I can't handle that", he tells his sister.  "I will get you your medicines", she says and walks away. 

The incident plays on his mind, and the anger returns.  He knows he cannot do anything, and yet it rages on.  The next day, he heads for his physiotherapy session at the hospital with his sister.  He notices someone approaching him, and his sister going tense.  It is the same lady.  She is with a man.  He visibly starts shaking, both in terror and anger.  His mind knows that it is the same man who assaulted him, even though he hadn't seen his face.  The woman's husband.  They approach him; he's dumbfounded.  

"Please forgive us.  No, forgive me.  I was the one who caused it.  I let my anger take over me.  You suffered.  Now, I am suffering too.  Oh God, I am suffering", his voice becomes shaky, and he breaks into loud sobs.  The woman, places a hand on him, shushes, and says, "Sir, please forgive him.  He has been taught a lesson already by the police.  He has been put behind the bars, only released on bail now. Please forgive". His sister takes over. "Why should he forgive? Will you cure his broken bones and make them as before? Will you return his lost days, or bring back his courage?"

"Madam, please understand. What happened was unfortunate. Punish me, however you want.  Hit me.  But, if you don't forgive and take back the complaint, I will lose my job.  My family will suffer.". The nurse calls their names for dressing, followed by physiotherapy.  He breathes easy, and feels relieved to move away from the tension that he hadn't anticipated.

As the physio moves away after therapy, his sister whispers, "I don't trust them.  I don't want you to forgive them.  It won't be justice." She too is trembling in anger. 

He remembers the faces of the husband and wife as they had begged at his feet before entering the therapy room.  He remembers his own predicament just before the accident/assault.  He was threatened by the manager with dire consequences of losing his job if he didn't deliver on the sales results. He remembers the manager's face while delivering the threat - that weird glee. The perverse expression certainly emanating from the knowledge that he knew he had complete control over another person. 

He understands he too has the fate of another human - and his family - in his hands.  He mulls over the outcome he would desire.  He knows he wants justice and closure.  As he makes up his mind, he calmly asks his sister to take him to the police station before they head home.  

Secrets

 

“Happy Birthday, Ashu”, she says as he delivers the bouquet to him, and enters the house. She is one of the earliest to arrive for the party, an impromptu celebration - an afterthought of the wishes that poured his way since midnight - of him reaching a significant milestone number in life. 

She busies herself with helping him around the house; arranging the crockery and cutlery, getting snacks prepared, and even ordering some flowers to decorate around the house. While wiping the plates and wine glasses, he says, “Pri, you have never missed wishing me on my birthday ever since we know each other!”

She raises her head, smiles at him and busies again in wiping away the traces of water from the plates. 

“What is the secret of your memory? Do you remember all the dates, or do you keep an alarm?”

“I remember most of my close people’s birthdays. It’s a habit from childhood. From days when there were no mobile phones or e-reminders”. 

“Wish I had as good a memory!”, he remembers he had forgotten to wish her on her birthday; he realised it only when he received invite to attend her birthday party over the weekend after her special day. 

“Sometimes, memory is a curse too”, she quips. “I remember things from days when I was three. And I am yet to reconcile with all those memories”. 

“I barely remember anything before I turned 12! I can’t believe anyone could remember from their earliest childhood days”. 

She lapses into reminiscing her childhood days. Her crush on the boy whose birthday too fell on the same day as Ashu’s. And, that’s how she remembered. “Where are you lost with the wiping cloth on your face?” 

She comes back to the present. 

“I just slipped back into my childhood”, she says, her face flushing red. 

“Remembered your childhood crush?”, teases Ashu. 

“How did you guess?”, she blurts. 

“So, I was right! Tell me tell me please”. 

“Ah come off it”, she tries to wriggle away. 

“Please. You can’t say no. It’s my birthday!” Ashu even makes a puppy face. 

She relents. 

“I had a crush while growing up. He happened to be the brother of my classmate”

“Wow! And, then? Did he also reciprocate your feelings?”

“Nah! He was just very nice and all that. Also, soon, my dad got transferred from there. We moved to a new place”. 

“You didn’t ever try to meet him again?”

“I did. After I started working. I went to attend my classmate’s wedding, just with the hope to reconnect with him”. 

“That’s interesting. I’m sure he would have been bowled over seeing you!”

“He was civil, even bordering on being chivalrous, but…”

“But what? He was already taken?”

“He didn’t remember me at all”. The pain in her voice is palpable, as though the hurt was from yesterday. 

“I’m sorry!” Ashu draws her into a tight hug. She doesn’t tell him they share birthdays. Some things are best hidden, she resolves. 

Random Rant in a Political Group

 Excerpts from a conversation in a group I’m part of  

SAK:

I think every person has a right to his views. I personally feel that encouraging homosexuality is detrimental to the society.

What two individuals do privately is entirely upto them and no body has the right to snoop on their private lives. But normalising it and insisting on the acceptance by the society is not in the interest of the society and strikes at the root of family which is the basic unit of civilisation.

I personally would be very uncomfortable if my children had to be brought up in a society which encourages and normalises homosexuality.

Me:

One, civilisation is always an evolving concept. What was civilised back then is considered uncivilised today. Like, beating one’s wife or children. Or slavery. Or many other ills. 

Homosexuality is a sin when seen through the myopic lens of religion, or thru personal biases. However, it’s a normal behaviour seen across the entire animal world. 

You cannot encourage homosexuality. Nobody becomes a homosexual because you encourage (or discourage). While the jury is yet out to determine if it’s genetic, it certainly is not a learned behaviour (except in confines of a jail, or a long-sailing ship, where desperation leads to a lot of anormal behaviour that would disappear once the confines are removed).  Whether you like it or not, homosexuality has been declared normal by most ‘civilised’ nations and societies, despite opposition from religious nut heads. 

And, lastly, homosexuals are also part of the society, just like you and I. Discriminating against them is the similar to discriminating against left-handed people. You don’t make them left-handed by encouraging them, nor do you make them right-handed by discouraging. Hope you understand. It doesn’t matter what you personally think. Things will change.

SAK:

There are too many nuances in defining civilisation.

However irrespective of such definitions to me civilisation is that people are free to protect their private lives but to insist that the other recognise his right to be openly homosexual would interfere on my right to bring up my children teaching them that homosexuality is unacceptable. 

As they say the liberty to swing my hands is unfettered provided it does not go near the other ‘s nose.

Why should a homo sexual have right to force me to recognise the normalisation of his quirks. As i said nobody is interfering in his private life.

As far as the so called developed ‘civilised’ world is concerned the results of this disregard for the rights of others to bring up their children as they choose is showing up in their falling birth rate frighteningly below the replacement rates putting their very existence in danger

Panini:

My dear friend you are fighting against the cult of wokeism. Its interpretation of ‘diversity’ is to include the cults at the margin even at the expense of excluding what is known as mainstream culture.

Me (to Panini):

Whatever you don’t agree doesn’t become woke. Because queer people are at the societal margins, it doesn’t make them any less human. Nor does it make their fights and struggles any less a cause to be not supported. 

If you lived in the 19th century, you’d have called Raja Ram Mohan Roy also as woke.

Me (to SAK):

You should found your own nation to ensure you teach what you want to, to your children. 

Also, sexuality is not private, if you look around. We boast about the families we have, and declare proudly of the children we have created. What’s private then? 

Falling birth rate has nothing to do with homosexuality. Please get your facts right. Just because you get 32 when you add up 3 and 2 it doesn’t become right.

SAK:

This is brilliant. I find my own nation to teach my own children and i am a bigot.

I am sure homosexuals are ensuring that there are 2.1 children which is replacement level and they are also encouraging others to have children at the replacement level so that we are able to maintain the country’s economic  and military power.

Me:

Yes, you’re a bigot.  Glad you said it yourself. 

You don’t find anything wrong in your children learning about a thousand wrongs in the world, but have problems only with homosexuality. Possibly because that is what religion says. Not because it’s a rational thought, or a deduction arrived through logic or application of scientific temper. And, then you use invalid data templates to justify your stance.

SAK:

Thank you so much. I thought reasonable people can have views which the other person does not like but would recognise that the other person has a right to have that view without calling him names. I will leave it at that.

Me:

There was nothing reasonable in whatever you’ve said so far.

SAK:

I disagree with you but i recognise your right to have your views.

Me:

Using some great man’s quote will not make you a liberal. Thankfully we are not living in a totalitarian country. 

Note:

I haven’t altered anything said (including mistakes or grammatical errors, if any). I have just copied stuff and pasted it here from the actual conversation. 

Scratch the skin of the so called progressives in this country and you’ll find homophobic, transphobic, and misogynistic people under that. These two are such samples. There were more who were giving thumbs up to what was being said by these two. Not another soul rose up to tell them off. Each of them identifies as a liberal, secular person! 

After this, I’d rather trust a rabid Sanghi than a liberal - at least you know what he’s thinking! 

Festi-wall!

 

The day is about to get over and he finds that he’s still waiting for some of the reports that should go aren’t yet on the table. Instead of calling up his deputy over phone, he decides to walk to her cabin. As he nears the cabin, he realises she’s on the phone with someone. He hears her say, “Well, because of the death of a relative in the village, the in-laws had called to tell us not to celebrate the festival. It doesn’t matter to us, but little Varun will find it difficult to understand, as he was looking forward to keeping Ganesha at home”.  She notices him through the glass, pauses her call, steps out and tells him, “boss, the reports will be on your table in the next ten minutes. Sorry, a family call I couldn’t refuse”. He nods his head understandingly and heads back. 

He and the deputy share a good rapport. He decides to invite her and family for lunch on the festival day. “Heard you saying you aren’t celebrating the festival. Why don’t you guys join me at home?” She confirms after consulting her husband and son. 

The lunch is a simple affair, mostly. Three different varieties of rice, a couple of vegetable curries, plain rice with tiLi Saru, curd, and carrot halwa with ice cream for dessert. No meat, keeping the sentiments of believers in mind. The young boy’s moods too appear better as he indulges in playing his favourite video game and an entire tub of ice cream, without parental disapprovals. “We planned to hit the beach for the evening. We will get going”, she says and her husband nods his head. 

As they’re about to leave, he calls the little lad, and says, “here is something for you”, and hands over a bag, with a box inside. “What’s this, uncle”, Varun asks. He is still at an age where one is happy to receive any gift. “Open it and see”, says the mother. The boy rips off the wrapping paper over the box and opens it to find a wooden idol of Ganesha inside. 

“Now, you have your own Ganesha. You don’t have to ask for one each year!”

“Wow, it’s beautiful, uncle! Thank you”, he hugs the benefactor. 

His deputy asks him, in hushed tones, “But, aren’t you an atheist?”

“Does that go against your faith? To gift a little one what he desires?”, he ribs her, good-naturedly.

“The answer to Varun’s disappointment was right in front of us, but only you saw it”, she squeezes his arm in gratitude as they all file out of home. 

#tinytales 

#veryshortstories

Outcomes!

 It was that time of the year when the performance awards were announced by the firm. She was waiting expectantly too. She knew she had done well, had better numbers than most, and should make it. 

The last time round, she had missed out on winning even though her performance was strong. The Management had called her and said, “We are extremely sorry; we somehow weren’t given these figures of yours, and we couldn’t consider you because of that. Please continue with your performance, and we are sure you’ll be the topper”. The awards came with bonuses and other benefits, and she was flummoxed as to how her numbers didn’t reach the Management. Glitches in systems! Technical or human, she wasn’t certain.  She was compensated by a minor promotion and some cash benefits, but they weren’t the same as recognition. 

This time though she had ensured her numbers had reached the Top Brass for consideration, and she didn’t want to miss out on what she felt was hers, deservedly. These awards weren’t sent as mails or messages, but announced at a glitzy dinner each year.  As the evening warmed up on a rainy day, the Boss was on stage to do the honours. 

She felt rage flowing through her as this time  too she hadn’t made it to the list. Someone from her own team - her underling - was chosen over her.  As though to drive home the message, she was asked to deliver the honour! She had to endure a further painful hour before she could head home and vent her frustration. 

The next day, the Boss had requested her to join in for tea. She thought to herself, “Is it to tell again they messed up, or is it to let me know that they are fixing it this time?” She practised mindfulness for an extra five minutes to soother her nerves, and to tell herself that she wouldn’t overreact during her meeting with the Boss. Her resignation letter was feeling all the pressure of her hands. 

As she entered his cabin, she found that there were two others - her immediate superior, and another person she didn’t recognise, a regal looking woman. She was introduced to her as the CEO of the firm that was planning to acquire the firm she was working at. “How in the hell do I matter in this?”, was her question in mind. She smiled instead. No drama in front of an as-yet-outsider. 

The Boss started, “As our merger happens soon, we needed someone who would be heading the change management team. We would like to offer you the new role”. Was this a joke, she seethed as she heard the words. No explanation or apology for leaving her out of awards! It took a while for her to gather her wits and ready a response. Just as she thought she would blurt out, the Boss said, “And a seat on the Board of Directors. With stock options. Your performance was not worth a mere recognition with the rest”. 

For once she felt good about having kept quiet. 

Vietnama: From the Hills of Da Nang to the Tunnels of Saigon....

 

European-style architecture at Sun World, Ba Na

What's travel without fun? It would be like reading our text books.  Innformative, full of knowledge, but totally boring.  I am generally a serious traveller - like a textbook! But, my company wasn't as boring or colourless as myself.  While I was going to 'see places', his idea of travel was 'food and fun'.  So, a plan was made to visit Da Nang before heading to Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC).   Being the boring person I am, my choice to see in Central Vietnam wasn't Da Nang, but a city nearby called Hoi An, which boasts of being a UNESCO World Heritage Site.  While Sayambhu didn't say he didn't want to see Hoi An, he expressed his desire to indulge in some fun activities, to begin with (before we could do Hoi An).  

Da Nang and Hoi An are located at a distance of about 30km from each other, and Da Nang is where one lands, if one flies in.  After much dilly-dallying, I chose to book our accommodation in Da Nang itself, at a hotel that boasted of views of the beach.  The pictures were seductive and I was immediately sold! Also, it wasn't too far from the airport.  As we drove towards the hotel from the airport, we noticed that Da Nang was a much modern city as compared to Hanoi.  

View from the Hotel Room

Since we hadn't booked for any activities, we started looking at our options after reaching the hotel.  Sayambhu zeroed in on coconut boat ride for the afternoon, at a river near Hoi An.  Little did I know then that it would be the only brush with Hoi An I would have on this trip.  The boats are similar to the coracles we found in India - round, made possibly out of bamboo, yet called coconut boats because they take you on a ride through a coconut forest/grove; but they are more colourful, and the boatman a lot more fun than his/her Indian counterparts. The place was blaring some Bollywood music, thanks to the popularity of the rides with Indians.  The entire waterway was filled with the raucous people on boats, screaming and shouting, as the boatpeople twirled the boats over water.  We found a few young boatmen, dancing to the beats of loud music, as they twirled their boats over water.  

A Joyride in the Waters of Hoi An

One needs to haggle over the price for a ride here; what would cost maybe $6-7 pp will be quoted at, at least $15 to begin with (if you book online, you might get for a lower price too), and they even insist on paying tips to the boatmen/women.  While the ride is fun, it doesn't always leave a great impression when you need to deal with the touts. 

The rains from Ha Long Bay chased after us here too.  So, the trip to Hoi An town in the night had to be called off, and instead we stepped out to eat at a Japanese restaurant, not too far away.  The food in Da Nang beach area is ho-hum, because it tries to cater to the tastes of Western tourists (particularly from Australia); you have Australian pizzas, pasta, and what have you.  Even the food at our hotel (the breakfast spread and the taste) was subpar. An Australian we met in HCMC, said, "But, there's nothing to write home about Australian food!" No wonder the food at Da Nang sucked big time. 

One thing that Sayambhu wanted to see while we were planning the trip was the Golden Bridge in the Ba Na Hills of Da Nang.  I had read enough about it before coming: most of the trip operators offered a full-day tour of the amusement park, of which the Golden Bridge is a part.  I also had read it usually gets terribly crowded in the day.  After much searching, I found a tour operator who offered a sunset trip to the Golden Bridge.  We spoke over phone, and he said the guide would pick us up from the hotel at 1:30pm the following day, and we need to pay her the entire trip money (and we didn't have to pay online, and wonder if the trip was happening at all). 

Da Nang beach

Since our trip was happening post-lunch, we chose to explore the Da Nang beach in the morning, and also indulge in a bit of swimming at the pool.  Paris Deli (our hotel) had the best pool among the hotels we had booked ourselves at.  And, I didn't want to miss out on being in it, and get some exercise for the back.

The crystal clear pool at the hotel!

The guide - Ms Chang - arrived on time.  We by then had exchanged our dollars for VND (Vietnam Dongs) to pay for the trip.  We got into the car, and started driving towards the hills.  Only then did I realise that I had booked a private tour for ourselves, and we had a personal guide to boot.  The entire trip - pick up from hotel to the Sun World entrance, the cable car and costs of rides (except a few), guide fee, and the buffet dinner - cost us about Rs 14000.  It possibly would have cost less if we had taken a group tour (by about 1K per person), but this trip offered us complete flexibility on what we wanted to do, and where we wanted to spend extra time, and what time we wanted to return.  

I was sceptical of paying so much money to see a newly made amusement park as part of a tour.  I went though, hiding my reluctance and misgivings.  All of that was proved to be misplaced.  The amusement park - modelled as a French town with rides all around - was beautiful with those facades of castles, and churches (they even had a miniature Notre Dame too).  The amusement park boasts of the longest cable car ride in the world, and it is only expanding further.  

Riding the World's Longest Cable Car!

What blew me away were the flower gardens that have been created and manicured and maintained so well. It completely reminded me of Europe in the time just before autumn.  The weather too was similar - cool, breezy, and with just that little nip in the air. The place even had cobblestone alleys! 

The Gardens at the Sun World

There is one large hotel (Grand Mercure) atop the Ba Na Hills, and plans are afoot to start another one.  So, those who desire to stay back and soak up the luxury, can make reservations early. The views from atop are lovely. The rides are fun. The buffet is HUGE, with complimentary beers/drinks thrown in.  

Coming to the Golden Bridge.  A walking bridge has been constructed from one end of a cable car station to another, just to soak in the views of Da Nang. It is built to give an impression that it is held by two sets of giant hands in place.  It is the biggest attraction of the place and sees packed crowds through the day. My thoughts of going to the bridge late in the day proved correct, and for a short time, we had the entire bridge just for ourselves!

All for ourselves.  The Golden Bridge at Dusk!

We had initially thought that we would be back at our hotel soon after seeing the sunset from the Golden Bridge. Our plan thereafter was to head to Hoi An and see floating lanterns at the river in the ancient city.  However, by the time we returned it was almost 10 in the night, and we reluctantly gave up further plans to explore, as we had a flight to catch the next day.  However, I didn't forget to wake up early in the morning to watch the glorious sunrise over the sea, visible from our room!

From here, we proceeded to Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC), the largest city of Vietnam; it was earlier called Saigon, and is known for the resistance of the VietKong against the US military.  Since I was interested in history, we decided to take a tour of the Cu Chi tunnels. People built these tunnels with their hands to fight against the US army, used the bombs that were dropped to fashion weapons and use against the US soldiers. They constructed booby traps using bamboo and not metal! This was the first war of attrition that the US lost, and had to leave any country red-faced. The US lost a large number of soldiers, and they faced stiff opposition back home from public, and had to withdraw from this nation. The tour also offered us a peep into the Mekong delta, and its tiny fishing villages.  

This was also a trip that taught me some lessons that I am not going to forget easily.  More of it in another post. Thanks to flight cancellation (after reaching airport, and spending many hours), we got to stay another day in Vietnam, and that we spent swimming at the huge pool, just strolling about town, and taking some fun pictures. 

Entering Cu Chi Tunnel

Even though there are so many other attractions around Da Nang (including Hoi An, Marble Hills, and Hue), we didn't have the time to see them all, as we were not rushing from place A to place B.  I would love to do all these places if  - no, WHEN - I travel to Vietnam another time. I also have plans to see all those gorgeous waterfalls, rolling paddy terraces, the beaches of Phu Quoc too.  

Never stop dreaming!