Someone has very rightly said:
‘The first-hand experiences of a writer often become his treasured intellectual inventory; if he tells the truth, he doesn’t need a good memory to write a story!’
Well, this is a story of a ‘forty-year-old–wannabe’ who has always been fascinated by the notion of how a story unfolds; ever since his childhood, you see, he happened to have found himself at places where some sort of story was told…
But today, he himself want to be part of a story—neither to persuade, nor to entertain, nor to inform or explain; all he wanted in that impulsive moment was to speak his heart out—without any debilitating restraints.
So, Mr. Gautam—a middle-aged, middle-class, family man—who was pretty much satisfied with his lot; sat down on his age-old teakwood desk, to give the story of his foreknown character a plausible plot…
“Where should I start from?”, he reflected, and slid swiftly backward to his earliest formed memories–picking up the subtle cues; and wondered, “how could I talk about that introspective childhood of someone who had such a bad case of the blues!”
So he outrightly rejected the thought of setting the plot in the sadness of the very beginning; and he wished: “had my parents been around I’d have a glorious story of an ebullient upbringing!”
Well, Gautam never sympathized with his parents, especially with his father and his petty excuse that it was all for his education; he still considers those eight years as an exile with an extended family, which were wasted away for no valid reason.
A little while later, Gautam thought harder, for he can’t afford to let go of those formative years without finding the speck of hope; he did find a silver lining in a beautiful ‘love interest’, but it was too much to ask for colors from a lovelorn kaleidoscope!
Yes, that love interest was one-sided, and had to die a natural death; it was bereft of the sacred substance that should instill inspiration to write another Romeo & Juliet!
“Wow!, Romeo and Juliet…”, he sighed. And he murmured remorsefully, “Wouldn’t that story be something if the stakes weren’t so high; I wish I’d gotten the chance to at least bid her goodbye…”
Gautam repents his premature separation from his pre-school love interest only at the behest of his falling grades, and now the threshold of his ‘adolescence’ was to welcome him with its duly opened floodgates…
He was sent to a boarding school!
Which was approximately twenty kilometers away from where the abode of real happiness was (his home); he again reaped the punishment—as per him—as an effect of an untoward cause…
Well, in the blink of an eye, Gautam got an insight into how the ‘turbulence of his adolescence’ was unsuccessfully checked by that residential school; and he wondered: should he consider writing a story about the Rule he made about ‘breaking the rules!’
In no time, he became quite infamous there, you see, thanks to his forever-reared grudge against whosoever dictated; to counter those unreasonable explanations for those inflicted penalties upon him, his next audacious move was almost always awaited…
He often took it too personally. How? You will see…
“Should I write that ‘epic episode’ when that disdainful Math teacher barged in an ongoing English period, in the commerce section of the class 12th; and seemingly, at random, started checking the bags of pupils(especially boys); interestingly only three bags were picked, and taken outside of the classroom for a thorough checking, and only one person was called out to verify if he knew about the artist behind the found masterpiece?”, Gautam nearly made his mind about the setting of his story, but something stopped him.
“My God, what a terrible day that was!
So good was the masterpiece that even the likes of M.F. Hussain would be envious of it.”, Gautam is now turned off, not by the unforeseen turn of events that followed, but by the fate that masterpiece had met; he never gets to see that masterpiece, once they attached it to the students discipline file, is what his utter regret!
And he can’t write a story about his regrets!
“Ah, what a tragic memory that is!”, he recounts. “Bloody moron, hit me for capturing the beauty of a woman from imagination on that lousy piece of paper!
What’s wrong with sketching a woman sporting a bikini? I still don’t understand.”
“I wish, I just get one chance to confront that haughty moronic Math Monster, just to ask, was I wrong to the degree of thrashing I received in front of the whole class; called names, and even compared to the people as respectable and grand as M. F. Hussain himself?” — “The height of utter derogation; literally I was at the depth of an absolute diminishment! How can I write a story about such a derogatory episode? I won’t!”, well things are settled for now, and now is the time for him to take another shot; let’s hope poor Gautam tries a little harder this time and gets his story a plausible plot…
Well, we are no one to judge who was at fault there. But, it was quite clear that Mr. Gautam had been quite touchy, somewhat selfish may be… but, I don’t blame him, completely.
You see, if you tend to take things personally when they are not personal, it must be because something has hit the nerve; Gautam still bears the grudge against those pseudo-teachers, who belittled his efforts, no matter whether it was deserved. You tend to project your own insecurities upon others, and expect people to dislike what you don’t like about yourself; you expect them to doubt your ability first, at doing intimidating things, before you yourself doubt yourself.
Well, Mr. Gautam is still on the teakwood desk, with his closed eyes, and seems as if he is praying for a plausible plot… and suddenly, from the dimness of the corner, a voice calls: “What are you doing, sitting there for four hours? It’s late you see! I hope you are not attempting to write your so-called ‘Story’ again…”, yes it’s his wife! Who thankfully reminded him to remain grounded, and not be carried away by the pleasant intoxication of the Wee hours; a fleeting thought about what he owes to the people in that 3-bedroom flat suddenly has come in to overpower!
But, for a little longer he successfully dodged his responsibility to his ever-wanting family; he didn’t want to upset the freely flowing thought that rarely visited him so uncannily…
“Ah!, why everybody tries to stop me whenever I am after something remarkable”, he dismissed her demand scornfully, and further expressed his contempt, saying: “these lesser beings will never ever relate with my ambition!; they don’t deserve my attention, especially when I am onto something so special; it’s my story after all!”, after a temporary break of flow, he recollected his thoughts again; he is about to ponder about the stage in his life when he’ll undergo a drastic change…
Well, he survived the onslaught of boarding school days—and of course had escaped unrehabilitated; and barely avoided the blot of being someone that that school had ever blacklisted!
And Gautam luckily succeeded at getting a college degree from an institution that only boasted of maintaining the lowest standards; this however was the place where he happened to have learned about the perks of being part of a lowly herd!
So, this again, certainly can’t be his calling!
Certainly not for the one who had always derided himself from picking up battles for glory with lesser mortals; he definitely aspired to stand out, but not at the cost of becoming someone who stood out from a herd of cattle!
In the meanwhile, he had realized, he had been learning things that he’d have to spend a lifetime to unlearn; here alone he happened to have realized that only by way of ‘success’ of some sort, his ‘wings’ would be earned!
He closed his eyes again, and effectively summoned the days when he was approaching his ‘twenty-first’ birthday; this was the stage when he was getting ready for one of the biggest competitions, in the country, and studying for long hours was its only mainstay…
It’s a new life, with new and like-minded people all around; this time he was pretty much sure that his destiny will break the ground!
He was so proud of rearing a dream this big, despite hailing from a small town; the view from the raised head was so different from what had hitherto been held down… He was so proud of his hard work, and his faith in himself was on cloud nine; Gautam was ready to take on anything, in a positive way, for now, he was in his prime!
Gautam suddenly summoned the episode that occurred on the eve of 2nd November Two Thousand and Six; for he can no longer await anything, for the sake of his story, that doesn’t offer a quick fix: “Let’s go, DJ, Baba is throwing a party at his place, for my birthday. You said yes to him, right?” “No, Gautam!, I can’t come, you know. We are still behind in our day’s job; please continue, I will make sure that the notes are done by the end of our schedule. You go ahead and party hard, and don’t worry about the studies a bit. You understand?”, DJ dodged the invitation, but it was OK with Gautam, for he liked having his feet in every boat available; so DJ’s humble offer to him was no less acceptable.
“I understand!”, he said. And left for Baba’s place.
‘Baba’ happened to be a member of a group who is born with the silver spoon; he happened to have helped Gautam, in many ways, in coming out of his compact yet armored Cocoon.
Well, he was there, a latecomer to his own party.
Dinner was duly served and the booze is ready, the setting was all set to rock the night; interestingly, no one, out of the nine people gathered, ever thought that the end to it would come with a fight…
Well, the fiery start to this episode is given by the member who happened to be the doctor himself; no one or nothing seemed to matter to him unless something concerns his selfish self.
Four pegs down by now, the drooping doctor happened to have touched ticklish Gautam’s same old sensitive nerve, saying: ” What if you failed to clear this exam in this attempt, and your purpose of coming to Delhi didn’t get served?”, and he continues, “What will you do next Gautam, do you have any other options open, in case, you know!”, well, after this, for Gautam, the omniscient Doctor never stood in good stead ever again, even though he might have been right in that moment; Gautam had pledged, then and there, to crack this coveted exam in his very first attempt, which sounded quite like an open challenge!
More than anyone else in the room, this was a challenge to himself; he was ignorant of his unpreparedness then, sadly, but in the heat of the hour a promise was made to the self!
Well, done with the party, he came back to his room, burning with spite; well, as the saying goes: Good tinder will only need a spark to ignite!
The next day, he was all set to make a mark in an exam now eight months down the road; it approached in the blink of an eye, and the results are the same as he forebode!
Expected by DJ, but a shock to others;
Gautam had passed it with flying colors!
Now, this is the moment he could have never done without; here is the moment he can get something substantial to write about…
He wishes, how wonderful it’d be if he could freeze this moment from his dearest past— wherefrom pictures came crowding on his imagination, each more poetic than the last…
He knows, this is the moment that will be etched in his memory to outlast; it is so evident from his contented face that he is enchanted by his thoughts…
But!
But, this moment in itself is also the end of the road, where the big wagon of his high hopes derails; this exam had two more stages to qualify, which DJ passes, and Gautam fails!
Whoa!
Gautam comes back to his senses, and gets out of his old teakwood desk—skimming in a night, a life lived for over two decades; he is happy to have not found a story yet, and awaits a gratification duly delayed!
Even though heavy-hearted—he no more wants to be part of any story, for he no more care to entertain, inform, explain, or persuade; all he wants now, in this gingerly moment, is to be part of one unstoppable fighter’s crusade!
Gautam is not a failure, even though his efforts down the line, ever since, can be considered measures taken in damage control, but certainly not in vain; His loving family had endured the loss, and have successfully saved his efforts from going down the drain…
He now realizes that it is his family because of which he could afford then the rare luxury to mourn those lovelorn spells; he is thankful to have been lost and found—for the darker days timely ringed the bell.
He is hopeful to bring out a story one day, for now in him a formative writer dwells; quite evidently, it is them who he owes the purpose of his life, above all else…
Above all else!#HappyBirthdayToMe
Praveen Katiyar
