Freedom from Freedom

Freedom - a feeling, a right, we were born with. I wonder if a self-centered soul like me, would have sacrificed my blood and life for a free India during the British Raj. May be, if I were born in that age.

But isn't freedom a way of life? Ask a bird, who's just learn to fly or a child who walks out of the school for his summer vacations. Freedom for such innocent souls is a much awaited moment. But for a prisoner who yearns to be free, after spending more than half of his life behind bars, "Freedom" may well be a question to be answered.

A question that must have haunted him, day and night, wondering of the life that awaits him on the other side of the wall.

Ever since I was in school, I prayed there were no more homework or uniforms. I wished for a freedom from the nuisances - from those rules that we, as children, failed to understand. They say, “Patience pays”, so it did. School was soon over, but then the shackles of higher education soon gripped my feet. “Homework” was soon relabeled as “Assignments”, which were even more gruesome than what it was back in school.

“Grass is always greener on the other side” – an idiom that made more sense to me now, than it did when taught during literature classes. With school and college years soon to be over forever, I was ready to jump into the open sea of the corporate world and be free to dive and swim the way I want. I only wish it were. The freedom of bunking lectures and going for movies, the freedom of sipping chai by a small tea stall in the wee hours of the morning, and many such freedoms were soon to sink deep under the sea bed. Amidst this, it would give me the “financial” freedom, one that I had longed for; ever since I learnt the meaning of being ‘financially independent’. But now I question myself; “Can money buy you that freedom?” A question best to be left as “optional” in our exam paper called “Life”.

But now I am tied down by project dead-lines. My cubicle is my new home, and my home, my new guest-house; where there’s little I do beyond eating and sleeping, in those few hours that I spend there.

I, like many, have learned that freedom always comes at a cost. The cost of giving away the freedom you had earlier. The boy who walked out of school, the college student who sipped tea by the tea-stall, the IT consultant who can now buy a car whose poster he once had in his dorm-room, all of them have given up their freedoms in pursuit of freedoms of the other kind.

Can we ever attain freedom from freedom? Or is it a state of mind that gives us the pseudo satisfaction of being free? I wonder.

Road Trip (Kolhapur - Ganpati Pule - Pawas - Kolhapur): some time in 1999

Chapter 1 - The previous day!

“I am going away for the next 2 days and I am really looking forward for this trip” I told my friend, as we stepped out of our college bus and walked towards a tea-stall. I shared the itinerary as we sipped tea.

I was excited beyond limits, which was evident from the tone of my voice and he reciprocated with his nods. Soon we were done and we were on foot again, towards my room.

It had only been 6 months in Kolhapur and this place already was my second home. I came here to pursue my studies in the field of engineering and after umpteen failed efforts of getting an admission in one of the engineering colleges in Mumbai and Pune, we had zeroed in (or rather was the last option, if I ever had to become an engineer) at Kolhapur Institute of Technology, fondly known as K.I.T.

Although much different than Mumbai, where I had spent all my life till then, this city had its own charm. Kolhapur is a place of historical importance and culture is at the centre of its heart. Soon this city had accepted me as its own child and life was all set to take me on an unforgettable journey, over the next few years.

Although I had a few relatives in the city, I preferred to stay in as a Paying Guest in a renovated ancestral house which belonged to an old lady. She was accompanied by her son who was married and had two very cute little girls, who used to come to our rooms whenever the couple needed their share of privacy.

Sandesh and Sunil were my Mumbaite roommates and were senior to me in college. We all were Production Engineering students, so living with them had its own benefits. They had been staying here much before me and since I was the youngest amongst them, I was treated as a kid.

In these 6 months, this was going to be my first ever trip and we had been planning this over the last couple of months. Sandesh had planned out everything, from the itinerary to the expenses. He was the Mr. Perfectionist in our group, but the only problem was his perfectionist mind would change every 10 minutes, in an attempt to perfect things even further and would end up in a mess, almost  every time.

Same had been the case with planning this trip as well, but Sunil and I had gotten used to it. Most importantly we had decided our destinations and the day of departure.

I entered my room and crashed landed on my iron cot, throwing my back-sack on the floor. I still had my shoes on and my feet hung in mid-air and was about to dive into a short nap, but raised voices from the next room brought me back to life. It seemed like yet another war-of-words between Sunil and Sandesh. This wasn’t new to me, but when it seemed unending, I thought of intervening. 

I knocked and entered their room, they paused for a moment and resumed soon after they saw me entering. Of course, they ignored me. They allegations, counter-allegations continued without paying heed to my presence. For those few moments I was the Invisible Man, while I was trying to get hold of their point of argument. 

I noticed a bunch of bananas kept on the table and decided it was best to feast on them while I patiently listen to these warriors battling it out, trying to prove their point.

While Sandesh was arrogant in his approach, Sunil was tactical which often put Sandesh on the back foot, but he would pounce back with vigor each time.

I had thrown the fifth banana skin in the dustbin and I let out a loud burp, which interrupted their animated conversation. Sunil realized my presence yet again, and offered me the open pack of Marie biscuits that were on his bed all this while. I accepted it reluctantly, and placed it on the table. They argument soon continued, and I was again the Invisible Man. Suddenly, Sandesh looked in my direction and asked me, “Don’t you think the same way, as I do?”

I was in a state of confusion that was best described once by Navjyot Singh Sidhu, the famous cricketer turned commenter turned don’t-know-what, in his own words, “Being confused as a baby in a topless strip bar”.  Of course, this wasn’t a strip bar, but then I was surely the baby around.

Not knowing how to respond, I picked a biscuit and nibbled on it and swaying my head in directions that was difficult to say if it was a yes or a no and then focused back on my biscuit. Why did I ever chose to come to this room, I thought to myself. But then Sunil interrupted “You don’t have to answer that”, looking in my direction and then quickly going back to Sandesh, “Why do you have to drag him in this? He has nothing to with it”. Sandesh shot back, “Well, he has, if he is coming on for trip”.

That gave me jolt in my spine and I was suddenly more interested in the conversation than I was before. I looked at them and asked, “Aren’t we going tomorrow?” For me the trip mattered the most, than their purpose of the quarrel. “Of course we are” Sandesh said, which obviously meant Sunil didn’t want to. I looked at Sunil with a raised eyebrows and a question in my eyes, “If he’s going then I am not coming”

I was feeling like a child caught in a fight between parents heading for a divorce and is asked, “who do you love more, Dad or Mom? and with whom do you wanna stay?” and I don’t know who was the dad or the mom in this situation, but again the child was me. I asked them both, “We were supposed to go, together, as a group. Have fun. And now?” I paused. I was visibly upset and left the room, but picked the pack of biscuits from table. When I am upset, I eat and today I had no option but to rely on these bland biscuits.

Sandesh and Sunil continued their argument, but in whispers with an occasional decibel rise. I had finished the pack of biscuits and with my tummy all nice and full, I was into deep sleep even before I realized. The next I remember was Sandesh waking me up for dinner. I had been sleeping for a couple of hours, it was dinner time and we headed out to the nearby canteen. Sunil had decided not to join us today. The canteen was a 10 minute walk and I decided to bring up topic again. “Are we going tomorrow?” Sandesh said, “Yes, if you are ready. Sunil has his own views and opinions and does not want to join us. So unless you are too keen for him to join…” he did not complete his sentence, it was let for me to understand the rest. I nodded my head but could not make up my mind.

At the canteen, food was served in sticky steel plates that smelt of the leftover food from the one who might have used this plate. By the smell of it, we could say what was cooked for dinner. But for now, that didn't matter me as I munched on the tasteless, odorless, half-cooked food. All the while, I was trying to make up my mind. It was obvious that one side of me said that the trip would be fun if Sunil joins, while the other said that Sunil or no Sunil, the trip has to happen. I decided to go with the latter and conveyed my decision to Sandesh on our way back home. 

He had a victory smile on his face, and I knew I had lost some points brownie points from Sunil. For me, since I had been waiting for this trip for some time, it had taken precedence over comforting Sunil’s ego.

Back at the room, I emptied my college back-sack and started stuffing my things for the trip - Tooth paste, a pair of extra t-shirt, shorts, undies, deodorant and a towel. Since I had listed all this ever since the trip was discussed, it was only a matter to pack it all now. 

Given a chance, I was ready to leave the same night, but then the night was long and before I laid my back on the bed, I set my alarm and went into slumber. 

The excitement of the trip woke me up before the alarm went off and I was ready much before Sandesh. With just enough money in our pockets, we headed out without saying our goodbyes to Sunil. A roller coaster ride. 

I feel light today!

The alarm buzzed, bringing me back to life on a Saturday morning. Now, who keeps an alarm over weekends? one would think. But then, here I was rubbing my eyes, with ruffled hair, scratching my bum, dragging my feet to the bathroom. 
It's a Saturday, and I am already up at 7.30 am. Why do friends keep a "let's meet for breakfast" on a weekend? I go to the kitchen to make myself some ginger tea, before I could head out with my friends. A nice hot cup of ginger tea gives me that kick-on-the-butt, to start my day. As I sit on my cane chair, browsing through the head lines, I notice something looking at me. Yes, it's something and not someone. I always feel, non-living objects do have a life of their own and tend to speak to you in their own special way. So then, this object kept staring at me and I looked straight back at it.


It was my weighing machine. She usually doesn't do this and lays quiet under the table covered in dust. But today, she was on a mission... mission to get me check my weight. I thought to myself, why not, if she insists. 


I kept the cup of tea on the side table and let the newspaper fall to the floor. I walked towards, and dragged her out. I don't even remember when was the last time I stepped on her, but every time she'd make me unhappy with the results. May be, that was the reason I dumped her under the table. 


I wasn't sure what she had in store for me today, but decided to step on her... gently. 


'Gently', because I would hope, every time, she gives me a number less than the previous one. But it never worked that way. She always was true to herself and to me as well. 


Yet, now I waited for pointer on the scale to come to a stand-still. Those moments are too different than waiting for your exam results.. anxious ones.. 


Finally, the result was out and for the first time, I smiled. It was less than my previous score, I had lost weight... I showed gratitude towards the machine for the first time, and respectfully placing giving her a place in a corner but not under the table. I smiled, to myself, to her... 


I sat back in my cane chair, getting back to my tea and thought, in spite of a heavy meal last night how did I weigh less? This was not the time to do a Root-Cause-Analysis, but was to enjoy the moment. 


May be it's those worries that I let go off myself last evening. Not bothering about things which are not within my control... not letting people's words and deeds bother me. It was just last night, where I decided to live every moment, without thinking of what future holds for me. 


I had felt light in my head, as I hit the bed last night and it showed me on the scale this morning. Weird is it not? my mind resonated.. but then, as I begin my day.. I feel light today!

Three Quarters of a Year...

I don’t remember how old I was,

As I never knew, what a calendar was then,

So simple that my life was,

I never cared, if the clocked ticked five or it ticked ten.

I didn’t cry, but mom said I did smile,

I always wondered how mommy would know,

Even if she saw me, only once a while,

Every time she saw me grow.

Ah, it was all so nice and warm,

So secured was I, nobody could ever harm,

I never knew then, what hunger was,

I was loved beyond limits, without a pause.

Mom and I used to talk for long,

She’d tell me stories of the mighty kings,

At time she’d even sing me a song,

Never thinking of the world, how she sings,

But she knew one thing for sure,

All that mattered, that I was listening to her.

As I grew up and wanted to see the world of today,

I had sensed it, this was my day,

I cried for the first time, all covered in blood, just like red wine,

With every one smiling around, everything seemed fine,

Wrapping her arms around me, holding me tight,

Like she’d never let me go from her sight,

I realized it then, as she wiped my first tear,

I had spent my best three quarters of a year.

An evening at the Beach...

An excerpt from a story I wrote some time back…

Next day was a weekly off and I decided to take some time out in the evening for myself. After wrapping up my usual weekend tasks, I took off for a stroll on the beach close to my house. It was a peaceful evening, with sea breeze greeting me as I stepped on the cold sand. I prefer walking bare foot on sand, as every step gives you a new sensation. Moreover, when you look back you don’t see your foot print anymore. I wish it’d be the same with life. After taking a few steps on the beach with my sandals in one hand, the smell of freshly pan-toasted salted groundnuts distracted me. On a usual day, I would have bought a packet of groundnuts for 50 paise, but today I felt richer and decided to buy the bigger packet.

I looked out for a quiet corner, away from the vendors who sold bhel-puris and paani-puris, away from the ballon-wala, away from the family whose kids built sand castles. At a distance, some couples walked the length of the beach, holding hands and then there were a few who chose to play with the waves.

I finally found a spot, where I could be all by myself, with the cold breeze and the sweet music the waves made as they crashed on the shore. I sat on the sand, digging my toes in cold sand and I closed my eyes to smell the freshness around. The sea comforted me just like a mother, when her son would come back home after a hard day at work and would rest his head on her lap. And then she’d run her fingers through his hair, gently massaging his forehead and easing the stress. The sea breeze that blew through my hair had the same effect.

I never realized how time has passed; the sky had turned dark, and the beach was getting deserted. The cold sea breeze now gave me a slight shiver, leaving goosebumps over my skin. It was time for me to head back home, but promising the beach to come back again tomorrow… for a new breeze.. a new experience. 

I love the way I feel...

The wind is strong here. I can hear it whistle in my ears. I open my eyes and look around I feel like I own this place. I can see the horizon, which is not too far than I thought but it’s still far beyond my reach. I close my eyes, to feel this moment, one which I never knew, it existed. I spread my arms to the sky and my shirt flutters to the resisting wind, but my body is steady as a rock.  My feet are cold, not out of nervousness, but it’s the concrete slab below my soles.

It’s time for me to take a step forward. A step towards freedom… from worries and sorrows, from friends and families.. a step away from the opportunity of living life, of taking challenges but then it’s a choice I’ve made.. I suppose. But I think to myself, should it be a step or a leap? Although the destination is the same, it’s the journey that matters. A leap should feel good; I make up my mind. But standing on the edge of the skyscraper, a leap is as difficult as it can get. As I push myself forward, I stumble and lose balance, but recover just in time. I still refuse to open my eyes and I take my posture again with arms wide, head held high and breathing in the fresh air.

I have made up my mind, not to fail this time…  and take a leap and yes, I am floating now. I feel weightless, like my mother’s carrying me in her arms. My eyes are still closed and now feel the gush of air hitting my face. My hair dances to the tune of the wind and I hear the wind, but not as a whistle like before, it hurts my ears leaving them cold. I love this feeling of being light and free. I feel like a bird in the sky, like the fish in the sea … free to go the path it wishes. I am enjoying every moment of this feeling and wish it stays for last.

But good things don’t last forever they say, and so true are these words. The divine feeling has ended finally, as I crash on the hard surface. I bounce and bounce again, then, to lay lifeless in the pool of wine-looking liquid. My head feels heavy, and my eyes are hazy. But I still love the way I feel inside. I can hear some people’s voices from far away but they don’t seem that far. My haziness is turning into darkness and the voices fade away further, but I still love the way I feel… the feeling of freedom…. 

Why Me? Why Me?

Right from the school days,

When many of us never did our home work,

To escape from our teachers eyes, we used to try many ways,

Some used to bunk the classes, some would simply play their luck,

I used to pray hard to save my day,

But the teacher had other plans for me,

I used to get caught, what come may,

My prayers unheard, all I felt was “Why Me?”, “Why Me?”

To buy a ticket, every time I stood in a queue,

Never had I chance to be amongst the first few,

And when finally, when my turn was due,

With counter closing down, I had to move on to a new,

Starting afresh, hoping luck smiles upon me,

And at the back of mind I screamed out loud, “Why Me?”, “Why Me?”

When I got my job, I worked day and night,

Many wrongs came my way, but I always chose the right,

But when the day came to send a team at on-site,

I prayed to God, this time, I wouldn’t have to fight,

But my manager chose someone else, but me,

I wanted to know, Why me? Why me?

I was angry with God, for never favoring me luck,

Be it in school, or the counter or at my work,

There were so many other times, when I felt left out,

I needed a place, where I could go and shout,

Only when I thought all this, I saw a little boy,

He stood by a road side with a bowl, instead of a toy,

Neither could he see, nor could he stand,

His right shirt sleeve had a missing hand,

All this while, I wished I wasn’t me,

Would it be fair to ask God now, “Why Me?”, “Why Me?”

There are many who pray to God for a day, we live,

They wish they could breathe the air we breathe,

Today HE had shown me what I couldn’t see,

My life had a purpose and, I now had an answer to, “Why Me?”, “Why Me?”