When Strangers Meet (50000 ebooks sold): 3 in 1 Box Set

by K. Hari Kumar

  Someone was lifting him up from behind. The person turned young Arshad around and now he could see the person’s face. Abbu. A smile came across Arshad’s face.

  ‘Son! Our problems are finally over! Allah has heard our prayers. He has gifted us heartily. We have won this week’s jackpot!’ The person exclaimed in joy. It was Arshad’s father and he hugged his father with joy. The warmth passed from father to son and Arshad’s frozen body was filled with life once again.

  He placed his chin on his father’s shoulder and looked outside, the rain was gone. He could see a spectrum through the door, A Rainbow!

  Seven

  May 21 2011

  Gurgaon

  06:05 pm

  Mr. Sharma was driving the vehicle at a very mild speed and this time Jai was sitting next to him on the front seat.

  ‘Look, son, I am spending all my savings on your education, I have nothing else left with me for your mother and I. You must start acting with maturity now. Forget everything that you did in the past and start over afresh now! Start a mature life, wear decent clothes, get an acceptable haircut and comb it like an engineer, like a professional!’

  Jay’s eyes searched for a way to begin his defense, ‘Dear Dad! I appreciate what you are trying to do for me.’

  ‘You have to!’ he demanded.

  ‘No! You remember Rahul from my class?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘Well, he got into the same college for free! That fat ass chairman guy is trying to misuse your innocence and desperation.’

  ‘Watch your words, son!’

  ‘Dad, he had a C, which is not much different from my D.’

  ‘Do not tell me what to do. It’s my hard earned money. You just study hard from now on.’

  ‘But, Dad! Why can’t you send me to a place where they teach animation? It will cost much lesser and I bet I can get that scholarship.’

  ‘Shut up! You do not know anything about life. I did not sleep for 4 hours and teach a bunch of idiots for 15 years just to watch my son grow up and draw cartoons!’

  ‘Dad, Animation is more than just drawing cartoons!’

  ‘Oh Now, you are trying to teach me? You argue with me? You son of a…’

  ‘Stop it! You are my father, stop swearing at your own son,’ he looked towards his mother and said, ‘Mom, how many times do I have to remind him?’

  Mr. Sharma’s temper had crossed all borders, and was now willing to blast off once again. He thumped down on the accelerator ‘You do as I say. All my life I have worked my ass off so that I could give you everything that I did not have when I was your age and what do you give back in return??? DEFIANCE!’ He shouted.

  ‘Dad, I am not defying anything, I am just trying to pull you out off a scam! These people are just money minded rodents and I know the quality of the engineering colleges here, they are pathetic. Once you pay, their goodness is over! Besides, I know I cannot do this. Engineering is not my cup of tea.’ Jai pleaded, there was that baffling expression of helplessness on his whitish face and grimly a tear dropped from his eye that sliced over his dark stubble.

  Mr. Sharma shouted once again, this time almost bursting a tear or two from his red eyes ‘You Bastard, I gave up everything for you, and you do not want to be an engineer for me? You do not want to listen to me. I am spending my money, why do you care. I am just asking you to study what I want. You filthy dog!’

  ‘Mind your words, you are talking to your own son!’ a timid Mrs. Sharma shouted ineffectively.

  ‘Both of you are driving me crazy and I am going to end it now! You are all going to hell and guess who is taking you? Me!’ The old professor once again pushed down the accelerator and the Maruti Alto slithered swiftly on the wet asphalt, luckily the road had very few traffic, almost nil.

  ‘Dad, stop it, you are scaring me!’ Jai averted.

  ‘I should have tamed a dog instead; at least it would have been loyal to me.’

  ‘So, why don’t you go ahead? I am sorry; I am not the tail-wagging dog you ordered!’

  ‘Get out of my car!’ Mr. Sharma pulled brakes and the tires almost burnt on the road.

  Mrs. Sharma came back to life, all this while she had been frozen to death because of the speed with which her husband was driving the vehicle. The smell of burnt rubber tyre kissed her nose as she inhaled enough air to start her dose of compromise speech. She tried to bring the two to compromise, ‘Son! Why don’t you just shut up? We can talk about this at home. And Prakash,’ she looked at her husband who was red as a brick that was containing some kind of an acid fume, ‘please, control your anger. Drive slowly. Take us home. We can sit over tea and talk this out.’

  The angry father started the car and drove at a considerably lower speed, they were heading home, and Jai knew this was it.

  It was now or never.

  The moment had come to make a final call.

  Eight

  May 21 2011

  Ansari Household, Ghittorni

  08:15 pm

  Hussain Ansari and his wife Saira were preparing Biryani for the night. The little kids were eagerly waiting for the delicacy for after a long time they would taste real cashew nuts in the rice-meal. It was a joyous atmosphere at the Ansari household. Arshad, though, was sitting quietly near the window. He watched the moon as it tried to push through the clouds. The rain had stopped hours ago. He was happy that his hut wasn’t washed away again. He looked outside through the window. He never found the night so beautiful before. The creaking of crickets sounded less disturbing and more rhythmic.

  ‘Arshad, dinner is ready, come here.’ Hussain called his eldest son.

  He ran to the dining area. His brothers banged on their plates while his father placed a big plate next to his. He called Arshad towards him. Arshad smiled and sat next to his father. The floor was cold, but the warmth of his father’s love did not allow the cold to freeze his bottom. His mother brought the Biryani in a huge vessel and served it to the kids and finally to their father who were all waiting for the moment when they could pounce upon the delicious food, like hungry little cubs waiting to rip open the ribs of the deer preyed by the lion.

  The dinner passed quite swiftly. After a long time, the kids and parents, both were going to sleep with a fully satisfied stomach. Hussain stopped by Arshad’s sleeping mattress. Arshad was almost about to sleep. Hussain kneeled down, ran his palm softly over Arshad’s soft brown hair.

  ‘Didn’t I tell you Arshad, Allah pays everyone?’ asked Hussain.

  ‘Yes, Abbu.’ Arshad nodded.

  ‘Tomorrow I will be going to Delhi, I have got to sign few papers and then we will have our prize money in few weeks’ time.’

  ‘What will we do with the money?’

  ‘We will clear all our debts, build a pakka house in the town, cure little Latif and send all of you to school, so that you can grow up to become engineers and policemen.’

  ‘But I do not want to study, I want to become a tea seller like you.’ he replied innocently, after all his father was his greatest inspiration.

  ‘Son, there is nothing in what I do.’ The father replied with tears in his eyes, overwhelmed by his son’s innocent love for him.

  ‘Can’t we buy a shop in the ma...male?’

  ‘Ha ha’, Hussain chuckled heartily, ‘Mall, son, it’s called Mall. Yes, we will do that too. Now sleep well son, tomorrow you have to wake up early and run the tea stall in my absence. ShAbba Khair Arshad.’

  ‘ShAbba Khair Abbu!’

  The little boy dozed into the world of his dreams.

  The overwhelmed father started walking to the room where his wife was waiting for a dose of blissful love. It had been long since the two had found time for love. The constantly recurring problems of life had always kept their love life on the backseat. But tonight, things were different, the burden over their heads were lifted off by a fate that looked promising hitherto.

  A new day, a new life was awaiting them. They had hit a jackpot worth 50 lakh ru
pees. Time was money; they have enough money now so they have enough time too. Time to love, time to enjoy, time to live.

  Saira closed the door from inside and soon the lights were turned off.

  It was time to make love.

  Nine

  May 22 2011

  Prakash Bhawan, Gurgaon

  00:00 midnight

  Jai had had enough. He couldn’t take it anymore. Sick and tired of his father’s anger and dictatorship, Jai had decided to break the shackles and run away from home in pursuit of his dreams. He wanted to become an actor, which had been his dream for the past 15 years. The day he had seen Tom Hanks in CastAway he had decided what he wanted. He wanted to be an actor like SRK. He even secretly called himself RAJ!

  He tore off a page from one of his old maths notebooks and started jotting down a note.

  Dear Dad,

  I know for the fact that I couldn’t never really live up to your expectations and you couldn’t be the proud father of an A grader. In spite of me telling you a hundred dozen times that I can’t and I don’t want to become an engineer, you still want to send me to an engineering college sacrificing everything that you have earned till now. I can’t do this, I can’t hurt you more. I can’t let your investment go to waste because I know I can never be an engineer!

  You see, the path of my dreams is running opposite to the path of your expectations. So, it’s either your expectations or my dreams and I have made my choice.

  Please, don’t waste your time tracking me down.

  Your son,

  Jai

  He placed the note carefully on the dining table and placed the key of his motorbike over it. He took his cell phone with him, a few hundred rupees and a bag pack containing his underwear and other essentials.

  Jai stealthily walked towards the door, opened it and stepped out of his house. Carefully he shut back the door from outside. He turned around; the street was deserted, just like in those zombie movies he had seen on HBO. Moonlight was shining behind the intense cloud cover, it was beautiful. He plugged in his ear phones. He pressed the play button and it was his favorite song ‘Vindicated’ by Dashboard Confessionals. He started walking, into the night. He had to reach Iffco Chowk metro station before his parents could find out what had happened. Once, he reaches there, he will wait for the first train to New Delhi Railway Station from where he shall board a train to Mumbai. That was his plan. Immature as it sounded.

  Mumbai, He thought, would make his dream of becoming an actor come true. He hurried through empty streets, it was windy outside and he felt the chill almost demagnetizing him from within his veins.

  He could sense something following him, but he was sure, it wasn’t a ghost because he did not believe in ghosts. Though, He did not plan in turning around and giving it a look, for that might prove his deep rooted belief wrong. He kept walking, briskly. The music in his ears kept him away from the world outside to some extent, but the next track gave him some shivers as the phone started playing Annie Lenox’s Love song for a vampire.

  He knew there was something or someone behind him. He could almost sense it. He did not want to turn around and he knew that it wasn’t a ghost. He didn’t believe in ghosts for he did not believe in God either and besides ghosts didn’t lick people’s feet. He stopped and turned around; a stray dog was licking his feet. He kicked it away. The dog waddled off in disappointment.

  He continued walking briskly. The metro station was roughly 6 miles away and he would take another hour to reach there at this speed. He couldn’t find any vehicle at 1 am in the night.

  The young boy walked into the darkness.

  Ten

  May 22 2011

  Ansari Household, Ghittorni

  05:04 am

  The first rays of the sun had chirped in through the window into Hussain’s room. Hussain opened his eyes to the light of dawn. He turned around to find the bare back of his wife lying next to him. He touched her back and smoothly tweeted his fingers over her warm soft body. The previous night’s love had refilled him with vigor and zest. He knew he had a long day ahead. He had to catch the earliest train to New Delhi, so that he could catch up with the officials before they left. Everybody knew how particular the government officers were about punctuality: They arrived an hour late but left at least an hour before their scheduled exit time.

  After a quick shower he hastily munched on the previous night’s leftover Biryani. He looked at his wife, who was looking prettier than the night before. She noticed him looking at her and smiled. He smiled back, ‘Let Arshad take care of the stall today, and Qasim Baba says he has precious hands. They say he makes golden tea!’

  ‘I know. It’s in his gene. He gets it from you.’ she averred.

  ‘Do take care of the money. After all, He’s a kid; do not let anyone fool him.’ The soon-to-be-rich man cautioned.

  ‘You do not worry about a thing. Try reaching the Lottery office in time; you know how opportunistic these Government officials are. They just want a reason to run away from duty.’

  ‘I still cannot believe that after all these years, our prayers have been heard by Allah!’ he pronounced.

  Saira noticed that her husband’s pupils were dilated with what looked like tears of joy of the present or those of sorrow from the past. She yielded another consoling smile on her moonlit face, ‘Times change. Allah rewrites fate of the determined. We worked hard to make ends meet but never missed a prayer, never committed anything foul and on top of everything never blamed anyone for the shortcomings but trusted Allah. This was His way of paying back. He always puts His children through tests, you passed them.’

  ‘We passed them.’ Hussain corrected his wife, ‘Ya Allah!’ he raised his head to the skies in gratitude.

  After finishing his breakfast, the tall man rushed into the bedroom, opened the almirah and pulled out a long white Kurta. The white traditional Kurta was given to him by his guardian, Baba, on the occasion of Eid, six years ago. He kept it like a treasure in remembrance of his father who had passed away a week after that. It was already six in the morning, the first train left at 6:20 and it would take him exactly thirty minutes to reach Ghittorni Metro Station on foot. He was happy to see little Arshad already at the tea stall, setting up the kettle on the stove for early morning customers. Arshad saw his father looking at him. Arshad smiled and bid goodbye ‘Khuda Haafiz, Abbu!’

  Hussain smiled back ‘Khuda Haafiz, Arshad!’

  Hussain started taking the air, he was excited yet there was some anxiety within him.

  He had never dealt with so much money before.

  As he walked, he passed by the huge under-construction site for the mall. The workers had started assembling at the site for the day’s work. A supervisor was conducting morning attendance of the crew. He remembered his son’s wish, ‘Can’t we buy a shop in the ma...male?’ he had said last night. A hearty grin appeared on his withered face. He tried to keep it as light as possible. But the harder he tried, the heavier it grew.

  The thought of 50 lakh rupees gave him a shrill through the spine, the hair on his body grew erect as he felt a rush of blood whooping into his head.

  Can’t we buy a shop in the ma...male?

  His son’s words kept bouncing off the walls of his mind.

  Thirty minutes later he was standing outside the Ghittorni Metro station. His feet that never ran out of power were ready to go few extra miles without break today. He checked the huge digital clock.

  06:35

  He had missed the first train. The next train for Jahangirpuri was scheduled at 06:40. He had five minutes with him to catch that train. The ticket counter was almost as empty as the station. The woman at the counter slowly picked up the board that said OPEN and hung it loosely over the hanger. She yawned out the previous night’s incomplete slumber and looked at the tall Pathan standing outside the counter, staring right into her eyes.

  ‘Central Secretariat, one ticket, please.’ he requested.

  ‘That would
be 28 rupees.’ the woman replied in a half-hearted tone, still yawning through the interface.

  Hussain produced 2 ten rupee notes and 4 coins of 2 rupees each and placed it on the counter’s interface, ‘There you go, twenty eight it is’, He passed a friendly smile.

  The woman responded with a fake smile as she handed out a blue token. She did not have to try it, it came automatically to her facial muscles as she was used to doing that ever since she was posted inside that counter.

  Hussain collected the token and started walking towards the security check. There were three beautiful women from the North East besides him who were waiting for the security people to let them through. The chief security officer was saying something into his walkie-talkie. His conversation seemed serious and words like derailed, rerouted and subject were being used frequently.

  Hussain was still standing under the electro-magnetic pass-through, waiting for the policeman to come and check his sleeves.

  Finally he heard the words OVER AND OUT and noticed the policeman placing the black device back on the table behind him. He instructed a female cop to do something and then came towards Hussain.

  ‘Sorry Sir, but we can’t let you pass.’

  Hussain was startled at the denial, ‘But Sir, You haven’t even checked me yet!’ he defended.

  ‘Oh! It’s not because of you. We can’t let anyone up there for the time being. There has been an accident. Sorry, needs cleaning up. All yellow line trains have been postponed for the time being.’

  ‘But I have to reach the Delhi by 10!’

  ‘I’m sorry Sir!’

  ‘Isn’t there an alternative?’

  ‘You know, there is only one route here. But I guess you can make it almost in time if you catch a bus to Connaught Place from the Bus Depot.’