A MISSING KNEE-JOINT

Confession: I am a very bad blogger. I don't give time to my blog, I have even stopped posting at DOV. And every time I do come up with some or the other excuse. What's my excuse this time? Last year, I was busy getting an internship, this summer I was busy having fun in Bangalore and now I am busy preparing for my placements. Told ya, I have excuses all the time!!!

So as a compensation and a token of sorry, here's an incident I would like to share with my darlings. This is the story of an accident I had once while travelling. Even though, it has been seven years since then, all the incidents are still clear in my mind and haunts my dreams till date....

I went to the railway station today. It’s been more than a year since I have been there. The place brought back old memories.  For the last four years before I joined college I have been there every day- at 6 in the morning, 3 in the afternoon and even 12 at night. I live in a small town in the suburbia near Kolkata. The place is really secluded and I had to travel 16 miles every day from Monday to Saturday (I was regular to school and didn’t miss school unless I had some sort of emergency). For tuitions I had to travel nearly 35 miles four times a week which even included Sundays. Dude it’s really painful when you go to bed at 1 a.m and wake up at 4:30 am for catching a train. For the last four years I never enjoyed my breakfast or dinner as I was always in a hurry and it was just thrice a week I got a proper lunch. I really thank my mum for all the pain she took to make me good food everyday even in such a busy schedule.

But there’s one incident which is still vivid in my memory. One that’s been a nightmare for me, one I can never forget. It was the night of 3^rd June 2006. Time 2 am. I had been to vellore with my family for my medical treatment and was returning then. My train was scheduled on 2^nd June at 11 pm. We checked and found out that it was running late. According to home rules I am supposed to go to bed by 11 pm (my daily train journey had not started yet). I was feeling very drowsy. Due to some wrong signboards and also a bit of our own mistake we were standing at the wrong position at the platform. When the train came we saw that the engine came and stopped before us. It was scheduled to stop for just 2 minutes at the platform. It was a long distance express train, so you can imagine how long the bogies can be. Our compartment was the 22^nd from the engine. We didn’t give it a second thought and started running as fast as we could. My mum and dad had heavy trolleys with them and I had lots of food packages in my hand. I was wearing shoes a little big for my feet because they were the only comfortable ones I actually had. When we were midway, my dad stopped and he was panting (he was a heart patient as well as diabetic). My mum was having troubles balancing the trolley she had. There was a ticket checker standing nearby. My dad asked him where our compartment was. There was hardly and voice coming out of his throat. It was another 10 bogies away. We again started running. One of my shoes flew off and I spent 10 seconds searching for it. I was finally running with food packages and my shoes in my hand. 

When we were in front of the 18^th bogie, I was too tired and climbed into that one and told my parents to do so and we would get to our compartment in the next station. My dad told me to get down as the signal was still red. As i was getting down I slipped and my legs went halfway below the train. My parents with the help of a few other people strangled and got me out of there. I was shrieking in agony. No one knew why I did so as there weren’t any visible external injury. I somehow jumped back into the train. My dad again urged me to get down. I was still crying and shouting. People in the compartment were sleeping and they got disturbed. Their anger could be seen on their faces. I was crying and shouting at the same time. My hands were clasped to my right knee. My parents who were down on the platform didn’t understand why I was doing so. But they sensed that I might have got hurt in my right leg. My mum came up and tried to help me get down. Instead of standing up and helping her I quickly grasped her hand and placed it where my hands had been. I could see the terror on her face as it turned blue. She turned towards my dad and said in a choked voice, “her knee joint is missing!” 

My dad didn’t believe but quickly came up with our entire luggage and tried to see what the problem was. He saw that my knee joint had been dislocated. He quickly searched it out and, by applying a little pressure, finally got it into place. I was still in a lot of pain and felt the weakness in my leg, but the sudden hot rush of blood was comfortable. By this time the train had already started moving. A few passengers who could sense the trouble of this thirteen year old girl came forward to help. The next bogie was the pantry car and the internal gate was closed. They shouted and pleaded to open the gate. ”There is a patient here who has a reservation in the AC compartment. She can’t walk. Let her in”, they all shouted. But it was in vain. After an hour the train stopped and there was another platform. But this was not the station where the train should have stopped. After a little doubt everyone decided to get down here and get to the right compartment. Two men tried helping me getting down but there was another dislocation and I sat down again defeated. After 30 seconds we tried again and I got down somehow. One person helped me cross the pantry car and get to another compartment. Then walking through the interlocking gates we got to the compartment next to ours. Since ours was the AC compartment, again the internal gate was closed. My dad got down to the platform and talked to the ticket checker. He showed him our ticket and tried to explain my condition. He understood and opened the gates to let me in. It was already 3:30 in the morning but I was too tired and sick so I drooled off to sleep. It was a two days journey and I even got a doctor in our compartment the next morning who gave me some temporary medication. After we got down at Howrah station, we didn’t take any more chances and took a cab back home. My parents had already informed my relatives and there was a doctor waiting for me at my place

While running that night for catching my train, I had never imagined that it would be the last time I could ever run. I sometimes think that what else could have happened if our luck wasn’t on our side. One of us could have missed the train and there was just one cell phone with us. The train could have started moving while I was under it. What would have happened if I couldn’t get out? What if it was not a dislocation but a fracture?

But the big question was how different life could have been if that incident had never happened?

I wouldn’t have been afraid of trains. I wouldn’t have weak legs. I could run to my heart’s content as other people of my age do. I could have got 30 instead of 28 in my physical education practical exams during class 12 boards. I lost one mark for running and the other for long jump. I could have been in the basket ball team of my college. I wouldn’t fall down and get hurt one day while returning from college to my hostel and my friends didn’t need to drag me back to the hostel.

Life would have been so different...................................

Happy Birthday Raumali Darling !

You are a Darling
A darling for your parents,
your siblings,
your friends
and
to everyone else in this world.

You are a Darling to Darlings of Venus !

We wish you all the happiness and fun of the world.
Hope all the lights brighten up your day, mayall the frolic be your mate today.

Wish you a very Happpy Happpy Happpy Happpy Happpy wala birthday.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

 

 

Happy Birthday SMITA!!!

Ohh my God Darlings, are we all so busy that we forgot our dearest Smita's Birthday!!!!!!!!

We are so sorry dear that we are so late in wishing you.

But nevertheless there's still some time left to the end of the day

And here we are

Wishing you an awesome wala birthday...

Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday dear Smita
Happy Birthday to you....

We wish you a life full of happiness and fun. And keep the awesome posts coming....

Love you dear!!!!

P.S. Lots of GPL's from me :D

A HEART TOUCHING POST BY CHETAN BHAGAT

'Some truths on Career Wives----Girls should read, but Boys MUST read...

Recently, I saw the recently released movie, Cocktail. The plot revolves around a philanderer hero who has to make the tough choice between two hot women. The uber-modern movie was set in London. The characters drank, danced in nightclubs and had one-night stands with aplomb. They worked in new-age aspirati

onal jobs like glamor photography, graphic art and software design. And yet, the guy eventually chooses the girl who cooks home food, dresses conservatively, wins his mother's approval and is happy to be the ideal Indian wife. In fact, even the rejected girl, a free-spirited, independent woman agrees to change herself. To get the guy, she is happy to cook and change her lifestyle to match that of the ideal Indian wife.

While the movie was fun, such depictions disturb me a little. When successful, strong women are portrayed as finding salvation in making dal and roti for their husbands, one wonders what kind of India we are presenting to our little girls.

Really, is that what a woman's life is all about — to make hot phulkas? Of course, i shouldn't be so bothered, many would say. It is a Bollywood movie. The commercial pressure to present a palatable story is real. Above all, the makers have a right to tell the narrative they want.

Yet, when our most modern and forward cinema sinks into regressive territory, it is unfair to our women. It is also depressing because deep down we know such attitudes exist. Many Indian men, even the educated ones, have two distinct profiles of women — the girlfriend material and the wife material. One you party with, the other you take home. The prejudice against non-traditional women who assert themselves is strong.

Let us look at another part of the world. Yahoo, a leading tech firm and a Fortune 500 company, recently hired a new woman CEO, Marissa Mayer. What's more, she was six months pregnant when she was hired, a fact she did not hide in her interviews.

Marissa will take some time off after childbirth and will be back at work later. She can manage both. There is something to celebrate about that. Marissa is a role model for women and even men.

I'd like Indian men to have an open mind about choosing their life partners and revise their 'ideal woman' criteria. Having a traditional wife who cooks, cleans and is submissive might be nice. However, choosing a capable, independent and career-oriented woman can also bring enormous benefits. For instance, one, a man who marries a career woman gets a partner to discuss his own career with. A working woman may be able to relate better to organizational issues than a housewife. A spouse who understands office politics and can give you good advice can be an asset. Two, a working woman diversifies the family income streams. In the era of expensive apartments and frequent lay-offs, a working spouse can help you afford a decent house and feel more secure about finances. Three, a working woman is better exposed to the world. She brings back knowledge and information that can be useful to the family. Whether it's the latest deals or the best mutual fund to invest in, or even new holiday destinations, a working woman can add to the quality of life. Four, the children of a working woman learn to be more independent and will do better than mollycoddled children. Five, working women often find some fulfillment in their jobs, apart from home. Hence, they may have better life satisfaction, and feel less dependent on the man. This in turn can lead to more harmony. Of course, all these benefits accrue if men are able to keep their massive, fragile egos aside and see women as equals.

Sure, there are drawbacks also in being with working women. But the modern age that we are in, the phulka-making bride may come at a cost of missing out on other qualities. Please bear that in mind before you judge women based on their clothes, interest in the kitchen or the confidence in their voice.

My mother worked for 40 years. My wife is the COO at an international bank. It makes me proud. She doesn't make phulkas for me. We outsource that work to our help, and it doesn't really bother me. If my wife had spent her life in the kitchen, it would have bothered me more.

Please choose your partner carefully. Don't just tolerate, but accept and even celebrate our successful women. They take our homes ahead and our country forward. We may have less hot phulkas, but we will have a better nation.'

Dedicated to the women we love ... 

P.S. I know I haven't been giving time to blogging these days and this post is not even mine. But when I read this piece by Chetan Bhagat, I couldn't stop myself from sharing this with everyone I know, I love. This is what reality is.

And I am going through a tough time, please bear with me fellow darlings. I will be back soon :)

SHE NEVER COMPLAINED

George wrapped the potatoes in foil and put it in the microwave. He set the timer and waited for Susanne to return home. It was Tuesday and he had his day off at work. Susanne on the other hand would be running late today.

George decided to prepare dinner as he waited for his wife.

It was Susanne who had taught him to cook. The first time he tried cooking, he had nearly blown off the kitchen. She had to clean all the mess.

The second time the kitchen was fine. But the food wasn’t. Still when he gave it to her to taste, she didn’t complain. She had a bite and said it was the best food she ever had.

When George tasted his own food, he found out how miserable a cook he was. When he asked her how could she find it tasty, Susanne said-

“Because it’s filled with your love. It has you hard work in it. How can it not be tasty for me?”

George couldn’t say anything.

He had been both a terrible cook and a terrible student. But Susanne never complained.

He strolled around the house while waiting for the timer to beep. While looking around he found the corners of the house needed some cleaning. There was a snapshot of their graduation on the wall just opposite the kitchen. “She’s the most perfect woman I have ever met in my life”, he thought.

They first met during an academic conference in college. And the first time he saw her he was dumbstruck by her beauty. She was blonde with shiny golden brown hair cut short. The sky blue sweater vest and black skirt she wore defined her curves well. Her black silhouettes made her more graceful. George couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“Hi I am George Williams”, he stretched out his hand.

“Susanne, Susanne Arquette”, she took his hand.

At that moment, somewhere in his heart, George knew this was the woman he was meant to be with. There was a pleasant smile on her face, one that would take all your tensions and worries away. Her voice was filled with melody.

Within a month they started dating. On their first date, George was late by an hour. When he reached, there she was waiting with a smile on her face. George was surprised. He was scared that when he reached she would freak out and start shouting at him. But Susanne didn’t complain.

As days passed, George knew that she was a good listener, compassionate about her work, and the perfect woman he had ever met.

At work also, she had the best ideas, made the best presentation, met the deadlines on time and within six months of joining, she was promoted to the post of vice president of the house.

Within a year they were married.

The timer beeped. George went to take out the potatoes. He decided to make some salad. The doctor had told Susanne to have more vegetables after the accident. He knew it was his fault. It was his fault that even after six years of their marriage they are childless. It was his fault that there was no one to throw light in the house that both of them had decorated with so much love. But Susanne never complained about that.

They had been trying to conceive from the second year of their marriage. After a year, the fertility test had showed that his sperms had low motility. It was all his fault, George knew.

Two years after the fertility test, he got Susanne pregnant. Their happiness knew no bounds. He still remembers Susanne’s face that night. That was the first time he saw true happiness in her eyes. There it was, something more than that simple pleasant smile. George just stared at her face in awe.

Last September, it was Kelvin and Kathy’s marriage- their best friends from college. Susanne found it hard to find a dress that would go with her bulging stomach. She was eight months pregnant. But she was the perfect woman. She found out a blue satin dress which made her look thinner and put on her best make-up. George looked at her with pleasure. She was looking as beautiful as she looked on the first day he met her. They had a lot of fun that evening. Susanne had also proposed a toast to the happily married couple.

While returning back home, Susanne had proposed to drive as he was a bit drunk. But George assured her that it would be okay. He can take care of his wife and child. She believed him.

The next morning, at the hospital, George knew that it was all over. He had lost his child. The doctor also told him that the accident had a terrible impact on her and so she can never conceive again.

George broke down in tears and cursed himself. Susanne was lying on a bed, asleep and calm, in a private room with barely enough space to stand beside her in a secluded wing of the hospital where they don’t visit for expectant patients.

Before the ultra-scan Susanne told the doctor that they didn’t want to know the sex of the child. But now George knew it was a boy. He had held his son close to his heart long enough before the nurse came and took it from him. He wasn’t sure whether to tell that to her or not.

When Susanne woke up she sat with her eyes closed, her head in his arms. She never said anything to him. But George knew that she will never be able to forgive him.

George found there was nothing left except for a few carrots. “Strange!” he thought.

There refrigerator was always stuffed with food. Whenever she went for shopping, she bought extra bottles of oil, milk, juices, beer and wine; zippered bags of pasta, vegetables, fruits and yam. Whenever he looked at the refrigerator, he was both surprised and satisfied.

It never went waste. When friends dropped by, Susanne would prepare the best meals. She would go through different cookbooks and serve George a new dish every Sunday evening. The date when they first had a new dish would be marked by the recipe in the book.

After their marriage, George knew Susanne was the perfect wife. Their house was always clean. She would keep the shoes in the closet, coats on the hanger by the door. She would pay the bills as soon as they came.

Every morning Susanne would wake up early, go out for jogging, come back and prepare breakfast for herself and her husband, run her errands and then go to work. She was never late.

But now it no longer mattered her. She would keep her sneakers by the door when she got home, her coat on the sofa. She no longer seemed to be disturbed by the fact that the sofa didn’t go with the new Turkish carpet they got last summer.

George no longer looked forward to the weekends when they would sit together in the morning solving crossword puzzles or mow the lawn together.

He decided to put some candles on the table. He began to open the drawers one by one. He tried to locate a candle among the scissors, the eggbeaters and whisks, spoons and forks. He found a packet of left-over birthday candles in the cabinet above the sink.

On his last birthday, Susanne had thrown him a big surprise party. One hundred guests had come- neighbours, family, his friends from school, college and work. She had prepared him a heart shaped pine-apple cake to show how much she loved him. It was his favourite. The room was decorated with white and pink balloons and there was wine kept in a tumbler full of ice. She had done this all herself alone.

Since last September, they only had Susanne’s mother as their guest. The home had become lifeless. Felicia came and lived for two months with them after Susanne returned from the hospital. She cooked dinner every evening, did the cleaning and laundry and drove herself to the market every Saturday. She was a religious woman. She took care of all the household chores. She was polite to George without being friendly. She knitted sweaters for him but gave them to him in the most unceremonious manner. Though she never said anything, her eyes always accused her, “you are the reason behind her misery.”

It has been three months since that all stopped. Susanne has become more silent. She now didn’t care about how she looked or the surrounding. Mostly they would have their breakfast and dinner in silence.

She now took up more assignments, worked overtime to run away from the pain her home gave her.

It had started raining outside.

“She didn’t get a raincoat”, George suddenly remembered.

George decided to grate the carrots and make some macaroni. He started washing the carrots.

The doorbell rang.

It was Susanne. The rain had nearly washed all her make-up. There was a thin line of lipstick on the outer edges of her lips. The eyeliner she wore left patches of charcoal beneath her eyes. She looked like this on mornings after late parties when she had been too lazy to wash her face, too eager to drop in his arms.

She was standing there, in a grey coat and blue denim over her white sneakers. There was a calm smile on her face.

But her smile was no longer soothing.

“It’s my fault”, George knew.

But she never complained.

TOUGH DECISIONS

...........Sometimes you have no explanations for your actions

The world seemed to stop turning for her. Her first crush, the guy who has been evading her dreams for three years, had finally proposed to her. He was the one she was saving herself for. She was a girl who had the world at her feet. Still she has rejected innumerable proposals even though she knew that he was committed, that he loved her girl a lot and he could never be hers. Still she had kept her hopes high. Somewhere she had read that if you have a crush on someone for more than 4 months, you are definitely in love with that person. She has now been in love for three years. She has realised what she felt for him was something real, something more than just a little teenage fantasy. She could not just stop thinking about him.

The first time she heard his name, a bell rang in her ears. She didn’t know why, it was a pretty common name. As soon as she heard his name being called, she reflexively started shifting her eyes from here and there trying to get a glimpse of him. Then she was in first year of her college. He was a year senior. She didn’t get to see him. She didn’t know why she remembered his name even a few days later.

Second year, she had forgotten that incident, she had forgotten him. But when she received a text message one evening which said she had been assigned a project with him as her direct mentor, her heart skipped a bit. Was it destiny? There was meeting that day where all the second years were supposed to be introduced to the mentors. She was excited. She went there and sat silently, one amongst the timid juniors, her eyes scanning everywhere for him. But he wasn’t there. She didn’t know the names of any senior out there, but she knew that none of them was him, else she would have known. She was upset.

He did come to the meeting, a little late though. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. She was scared of him though, she didn’t know why. Maybe because he seemed too serious, too simple, the no-nonsense type. She didn’t talk to him, but she just couldn’t get him out of her mind. While leaving the meeting room she even turned back to get a glimpse of him. Her feelings were getting stronger, she didn’t know why.

Few months of work and the boundary between them started fading. Any work he got, he used to transfer them to her. Any problems she faced, she used to go to him. The fear she had started shedding off. She started liking his simplicity, his indifference, his carefree-ness. They went past the professional barriers and became friends. He too started relying a lot on her.

She learnt that he had a girl-friend, he loved her a lot. Her dreams and hopes were shattered. She had never let him know about her feelings. She tried dumping her feelings; she tried moving away from him. But she didn’t know why she couldn’t get away.

She met another guy. She got into a relationship with him. She loved him passionately. She decided never to think about her mentor again other than work.

One day, from nowhere he came back, back in her life. All her determination shattered. She just couldn’t let him go. He was in a mess with his relationships and everything else. He tried getting closer to her, she let him. They grew very close to each other. All barriers were broken between them. She let him intrude into her territory. In the mornings, she felt guilty. She hated herself. She was being with two guys at the same time-One with who, she was in a committed relationship, the other who was just a close friend. He had a girlfriend and she had a boyfriend- but none of that seemed to matter then.

A few months later, her relationship died. In the meantime he had got closer to his girlfriend. She was sad. But she couldn’t say anything, he was just a friend, whatever was between them didn’t have a name. Whenever she saw him with his girlfriend, she could feel herself turning cold, her heart ached, she couldn’t bear to see him with another girl. She tried staying away from them. But the girl seemed to pop up everywhere. Wherever she went, whatever she did, his girl was everywhere. She was starting to lose it all, She felt as if she was going into a deep dark depression.

In third year, she realised that nothing was worth this pain; she had to get out from it all. Her broken relationship and the indifference of her crush were eating her from inside. She couldn’t ignore either of them, but she realised she had to stay away from both of them. She got herself busy in other obsessions. For all the work related problems she faced, she didn’t go to him; she tried solving them herself.

Few months later she has moved on. She didn’t feel pain in seeing him with his girlfriend, though it did hurt her a little. Things started getting better between them. She was getting to know him better. She realised he wasn’t serious about his girlfriend, he was trying to get closer to her, she was letting him. Sometimes she felt his indifference towards her also. Still she couldn’t love him less.

After the submission of their project paper, he took her to a restaurant where he popped the question. He told her how much she meant, to him, that he has met no one like her. He told her that he could open as frankly before her as his best friend, he couldn't do that before anyone else. Her heart stopped beating; she didn’t know what to reply. This was what she had wanted for three years; this was what she was struggling for. After a long pause, she replied- ‘No, I am sorry.’

As she was returning back that night, she didn’t know why she said that, but she felt a strange calmness surrounding her...

P.S- I know I have been MIA for long, but darlings, I am going through a tough phase in life and so can't keep up with much of blogging. But I promise I will be back soon...

COLOURS AND WOMEN

The festival of Holi is here. I couldn’t get a more relevant post on this day. Have you ever wondered what does each colour clothes you wear signify? Here’s something I think you will enjoy.

         If you wear RED you are impulsive, excitable, energetic, ambitious and like things to happen quickly when you want them to do so. Red is a good stimulant and the amount of red is directly related to the amount of energy perceived.

        If you wear BLUE you are creative, perceptive, sensitive, intelligent, self-reliant and have a great depth of feeling. You have a good imagination and practical approach to life. Blue invokes calmness and rest. Blue is seen as trustworthy, dependable and committed. You like to do things in your own time and not be rushed.

     If you wear GREEN you are a cautious person and not inclined to trust others easily. You are an observer in life but don’t wish to get involved more than you are supposed to. Green is seen as tranquil and refreshing

      If you wear WHITE you have a positive, well-balanced and optimistic personality. White projects purity, cleanliness and neutrality. You seek a simplified life-style free from outside pressures

     If you wear BROWN you are a honest, down to earth person who likes a structured supported lifestyle. It signifies stability, reliability and approachability. A lover of the best things life has to offer, you are a sensous type

   If you wear PURPLE you are intuitive and have deep feelings and high aspirations. You are sensitive and compassionate so can be easily imposed upon. You are interested to be the best in everything including friends. 

j        If you wear ORANGE you are competent, self oriented and impatient. Orange is the colour of practicality and creativity. You are excitable and seek dominance over others.

 

    If you wear BLACK you are a strong willed, opinionated and disciplined person. Black is authoritative and powerful because black can evoke strong emotions too much can be overwhelming. You are too inflexible and too independant.

      If you wear YELLOW you have an interesting and stimulating personality. Yellow shines with optimism, enlightenment and happiness. You like to be active in whatever is going on.

A SCENE INSIDE THE DATASTRUCTURE LABORATORY

I wrote this piece long back. Found it really humorous. Wanted to share with my Darlings...........

Thursday, 08-09-2011

8:15 am

 The department get was closed and no one had the keys. We had a three hour lab and it was held in a room which was more of a boiler. So everyone was hoping that the gate never opens. The third semester students along with their Lab assistant was waiting outside. Even the fifth semester students were present there. Everyone was sitting in small groups and chatting, while the CR's were running around.

9:15 am

The Lab started an hour late. Ninety three students in one room, which meant fighting for "NOT GETTING A COMPUTER" [:P]. The instructor gave us the questions and while we were solving it he was writing new topics and programs on the board trying to get atleast one student's attention. At regular intervals he was saying -

"Please TP ma'am koi maat bolna yeh karaya hai, this is not in datastructure"

10:15 am

Everyone is tensed with the programs they got on Linked List. No one was able to compile perfectly, even if the compilation were succesful, there remained runtime errors. Discussions were taking place in small groups, everyone was trying to find out where the problem lied. Suddenly in the middle of such tension, sir suddenly shouted out loud-

"OYE! PICHLE DIN KISNE BOLA THA KI "BODYGUARD ACHCHA MOVIE HAI?????"

Everyone was shocked. Each of us stared at each other's face trying to understand what had exactly happened. Then one guy raised his hand...

SIR: "Tumhare dimag mein kya hai? uss movie mein toh baas ek train se dusre train mein jump karta hai, ekdum ghatiya movie hai"

No one knew how to react.

11:25 pm

It was already 10 minutes pass the scheduled time. Sir was still teaching. Everyone was restless to go back. But no one had the guts to say sir that the time was over. From somewhere a faint voice came, "sir we have a class now", but out of sir's range of audability. Again amother voice-

"SIR TIME IS OVER, WE HAVE A CLASS NOW"

sir suddenly jumped up- " CLASS! CLASS! TIME! TIME! KITNA HUA?"(searches frantically for his mobile)

"AAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!! 11:25, NIKLO NIKLO, JALDI SHUT DOWN KARKE NIKLO, WINDOWS BANDH KARO JALDI KAUNSA CLASS HAI ABHI????"

(continues jumping frantically)

-"sir, sadhu sir ka class hai"

-"AAAAAHHHHHHHHH SADHU SIR!!!!!!!!! JALDI NIKLO!!!!!!!!! WOH DANTENGE TOH NEHI NA???? (points to the CR) PEHLE KYUN NEHI BATAYA?????"

CR- "sir aap achcha padha rhe the"

SIR: "GHANTAA PADHA RAHA THA MAIN, AAB NIKLO FATAFAT!!!!"

:D :D :D

THE MEN IN MY LIFE

THANKS TO THE MEN IN MY LIFE

You who held me in your arms when I was weak                          

And held my hand while traversing tough paths

Then when time came

Releasing me to take my own way

Still following and protecting me from behind

Thank you DAD for being the first man in my life.

You who led me through the right way

For being my idol

For all the little secrets we share.

Thank you BRO for being my first friend.

And now thanks to those who  form an important part of my life

“Thank you” is just a little word for everything you did for me

The ones who took care of me after I left home

Letting me talk non-stop, silly pakofying stuff, all the PJ’s

The one who told me that it’s fine if I don’t know everything

No one expects me to.

And to do what I really enjoyed

And not compare with others

The one who made me realise that I don’t own all of the world’s problems

That there’s nothing wrong in crying when I am upset

And the ones who are always ready to solve my problems

The one who knows all my secrets and keeps them safely

And cheers me up when I am upset

And makes me believe that I can travel my path alone.

Those who believe in me

And made me feel special

All of you who made me feel wanted by valuing my opinions

And respecting my decisions

 My dearest friend

Remember all the non-stop nonsense we talk about

For making me smile when no one else could

And the ‘ONE’

Thanks for teaching me the meaning of LOVE

You came, made me smile, laugh, cry

And then went away

Leaving behind your memories

Which gives me the strength to move ahead

THANK YOU ALL FOR BEING A PART OF ME AND MY LIFE

FOR BEING A FAMILY, A FATHER, A BROTHER, A FRIEND AND COMPANION

FOR DEFINING ME AND MAKING ME WHO I AM