The Story of rain droplets - Aimless to Determination.

Ever since Raveena started working as an intern as a part of her Masters course in Journalism, she started feeling responsible and focused. The difficult child that she had been throughout, she now was learning to mellow down. Working with a brilliant creative team at 'The Bombay Times', she found a new meaning to her life. She started commuting through local trains; her journeys became more interesting as she started observing her commuter mates nearly, anything could be a story now. She was this bud who was desperate to bloom, she was every bit of that jet of water flowing through the narrowed nozzle cleaning dusty leaves and branches in the garden, she was just like those rain droplets; still and determined on the window pane of her car, once upon a time!

A few months ago, this wasn't the case. Raveena was passionless, clueless about her frigidity, she had no dreams and had lost all her charm. She was just like that little flower in the vase which wilted due to insufficient water. There was something going in her mind that she couldn't express. She had a fantastic life, a life of a princess but she lacked motivation, lacked determination and had lost her creativity. Anything in excess is poisonous and that was the case with her. Love, care, money and freedom whatever one could have asked for was served on her platter. Her new I-phone 6 failed to enchant her, that I-pad to which she was always glued to was no more drawing her attention, a chauffeur driven car had become a golden cage for her – she had a privilege to open the doors of this cage and free herself! A life that made all her friends jealous and were ready to trade for but within, Raveena was losing herself inch by inch every day.

A normal Sunday evening, showers hitting on her car's window pane, Raveena could relate herself to those drops which were trickling down and aimlessly making a path to settle down under the influence of wind. They had no choice, even if they wanted to stay there on the glass, they couldn't! Then with the harsh wind, slapped a poly bag on the window shattering all those droplets. What a life! She looked at Jolly, her driver who was driving with concentration, hands steering the wheel and head straight on his neck. The small teddy hung around the car mirror was dancing, wipers were moving faster and faster again crushing those droplets. The car stopped, the red signal light looked hazy as though it was dissolving in that rain. Suddenly there was a knock on the window pane, a girl in her early teens drenched in the rains, wearing a frock that was wet and hugging her body stood with some bestseller novels neatly wrapped in a transparent poly cover was trying to look at Raveena through the window pane. 

Raveena pulled the glass down and looked at her. She was attractive, wheatish with her nose pierced, hair braided in two pleats with red ribbons and a prominent bindi between her eyebrows on her forehead. The girl was shivering but determined to sell her books.

Raveena asked her quickly, 'Naam kya hain tumhara?' (What is your name?)

The girl answered, 'Gehna'.

Raveena then questioned, 'School jaati ho?' (Do you go to school?)

Gehna with a light in her eye answered, 'Night school jati hoon roz' (I study in a night school)

The rain had stopped and signal changed from red to orange. Raveena quickly slid on the other side of the seat and opened the door, asked Gehna to get in before signal changes to green! Jolly was confused but he didn't utter a word, he took his position, hands steering wheel and head straight on his neck.

Raveena then gave a flannel to Gehna to dab that dripping water at least. Gehna with wide eyes was looking at the interiors of the car. This car was the best place she saw till date, spotless! 

Raveena then asked Gehna, 'Why do you sell books on roads? Do your parents ask you to do this?’

Gehna first dried that poly cover and then rubbing that flannel on her hands she said, 'Thank you for this ride in your car. I like your car very much and you are very beautiful. My parents are no more, they both passed away last monsoon, probably drowned in a manhole, don't know what happened. I live with my Maasi (mother's sister) and she has no children. She earns enough to live a life and saves a little so that I can attend night school. My parents always dreamed that I will read and write books, very big books. After they passed away, I decided to sell books and this earning would help my Maasi too.'

Gehna was still wet, her eyes and eyelashes were moist, looking at Raveena she smiled. and said, ' I want to grow up and become a writer, want to write big books and fulfill my parents dreams.' 

Jolly was listening but didn't express. Raveena absorbed every word, something moved her 
and something motivated her. 

Gehna then keeping her books on her lap innocently asked to Raveena, 'Didi, what do you want to do when you grow up? Do you also want to write books like me?'

Raveena said nothing, she herself didn't know the answer but this question was enough to stir her. 

She simply said, 'I love to read and want to buy all these books from you.'

She was glad that she met Gehna and Gehna was very happy to have been able to sell all her books. At the next signal, Gehna alighted and bid a good bye to Raveena.  The sky was clear, rain drops were just like pearls sitting on the window pane, the cocktail of sublimed lights through these pearl droplets was mesmerizing, droplets looked determined for once and so was Raveena. 

Sometimes a good-bye is essential, that good-bye was actually a new beginning, a new journey for Raveena. A journey full of motivation, determination and passion. 

Most of the times, it takes an incident or a moment or a story like this to jolt you, bring in self-realization. Determination never dies, it only gets buried somewhere under a mound and an incident, a moment or a story like these scavenge through this mound and dig out Determination- just like that rain, aimless droplets and Gehna evoked long lost 'Determination' in Raveena. 

Determined droplets 

A Bend in the River - my perspective

It was always on my mind to read Sir V S Naipaul’s work for reasons unclear. It could be because he is bestowed with Noble Prize in literature and of Indian origin or vice versa. The recent book I read of him was - A bend in the River. Terrific. Brilliant. Masterpiece. I so much like his style of writing that I am determined to read all his work. A few days ago there was a small article on top 100 books to read and this book is the 90^th and now I am well aware of why it found a place in top 100’s.

The story in short:

The character Salim, Indian Muslim born in Africa witnesses the post-colonial transformations with new government who also bring in bureaucracy and corruption. Salim is deeply affected by all this but he is flexible to adapt change, adapt new people and new Africa. His friend Indar who goes to London for higher education leaves him jealous and insecure but Salim overcomes that and is happy with his own small shop. Mahesh and Shobha are his friends from India with whom he eats and hangs out. Though they are friends, there is always a distance between them. Mahesh has his own way of doing things and is highly influenced by Shobha, largely this couple is a typical hypocrite and so is Salim. Sir Naipaul, beautifully points out the hypocrisy that governs Indian mindset from every angle. How Mahesh and Shobha aren’t affected by the changing situations is surprising. There is Zabeth, an African woman who buys stationary from Salim and possesses mystic powers. Ferdinand is her son who is initially difficult to get on with but later emerges as a very thoughtful person but cannot escape from the consequences of changing Africa. People like Raymond and Evette, man and woman, live in a pseudo life where Evette cheats on Raymond for Indar and Salim. Finally with growing threat in Africa, Salim is forced to flee leaving his shop, flat and car; in short without nothing he sets on a voyage for new life. Sir Naipaul is brilliant in portraying the characters, situations and everything kind of happens in front of you while reading. Corruption, rebellious youth, an opportunist leader and common people - the story touches every aspect and stirs the reader.

I couldn’t stop thinking that why has it always been about power? What right does any community or country have over other community and country? Is 'Immigration' such a risk? if not financially then emotionally? A person of a different culture moves, adapts and settles in a new country, amongst new people and new culture but still tries his best to retain his own, whatsoever changes he adapts and tries to be a loyal new citizen of a different culture and country , he still is insecure! He will never be an indigenous. Sir Naipaul beautifully brings up the controversial lifestyle of third world and first world countries but what is to remember is that all these third world countries have always been invaded, ruled and exploited by first world countries. If development, reformation and prosperity comes only by dominating others then I would prefer to always be a third world country citizen. What one needs to understand is after churning out butter from these third world countries and when nothing more was left, they were orphaned to deal with corruption and the worst of all - poverty! 

The story is all about how Africans were shipped as slaves, the Arabs ruling Africa before Europeans, effect of post-colonial developments affecting the immigrants. It is very important to realise that when a country is ruled or colonised, is orphaned after milking out all benefits just like sugarcane molasses! All colonies were left to deal with poverty, racism, corruption and illiteracy. It was only today that I watched the famous debate rhetoric speech by Dr Tharoor in Oxford, where he slapped 200 years of extortion during colonisation on Brits in 15 minutes of his speech. The most agreeable point is that not only financial, cultural and social damages are being done but ‘moral damage’ done cannot be compensated. The Europeans, Americans were busy developing, reforming and we Indians were fighting for our rights to live freely in our own country. Why Indian research or African research hasn’t attained those heights?  Most of the scientific findings, research was done during that time where people in colonies were illiterate and their resources were diverted to the ruling countries, this is the promenade reason why European countries have prospered in every aspect. Colonies were stuck in fighting for basics. Even before the Brits stepped on Indian soil, caste-ism was prevalent in India but when they left we were buried under the heap of discrimination on basis on colour, caste and gender, poverty; bureaucracy, opportunistic politicians who introduced corruption; in short it was a chaos!

The damage has been done, people who did bad are no more alive but we have our country and freedom, we have resources and we have a vision. To cry over spilled milk is a waste of time. This is not only about India but for all colonies; it is difficult but not impossible!