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

by K. Hari Kumar

  Hussain walked into his little hut. His wife was packing some used clothes into a cardboard box; she immediately identified the arrival of her husband.

  ‘You have arrived. I shall make something, please give me a moment. My Mistress,’ she explained while pushing the box neatly under a shackled table, ‘Mrs. Ahuja gave some of their children’s old woolens. It was so kind of her. Allah bless her kind soul. Now we don’t have to worry about the kids this winter. You can think about purchasing the mobile phone. It has become a necessity nowadays for everyone.”

  For a moment Hussain thought about the arrogant teenager he met at the metro station. It was quite strange that he didn’t carry any mobile phone. Maybe he didn’t flash it like others his age do. Such brats carry two or three big sized phones mostly.

  “What are you thinking about?” His wife enquired.

  Hussain passed the question and began undressing his Kurta.

  “How did it go at the Lottery office?” She asked.

  Hussain sighed.

  “I couldn’t make it to the Lottery office today. A mishap occurred on the metro line. Some poor being lost his life, may Allah grant peace to his soul.” Hussain explained.

  His uneducated wife carried a sudden anxiety on her face, “Is everything alright?”

  “It’s a long story. After waiting for the metro line to open at the station I decided to take a bus to Delhi. While on the bus I realized I had lost my wallet which contained money as well as the ticket somewhere at the metro station. I had to go back. The lottery office was closing down early today. I couldn’t make it in time, so I came back.”

  “What are we going to do now?” Her eyes started filling up.

  “Nevertheless, I called up the Lottery office before they closed. One has a deadline of an entire week; the winning candidate must appear within the week of declaration. We didn’t have to hurry. I shall leave early in the morning tomorrow.”

  He paused to look at his wife. She was already sulking mildly. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her towards him, close. He wiped her tear and assured, “Everything is going to be alright. Everything is Allah’s will. Keep faith.”

  She surrendered unto her husband’s faith and closed her eyes as she placed her head gently on his bare chest.

  “Do you think our son is happy here?”

  Hussain’s wife couldn’t place the context for such a question. She nodded, “Why do you ask such a question?”

  “Kids his age go to school, play around. Not just that we cannot afford to send him to school. We can and will be sending the young ones to school someday but Arshad will be grown up by then. He has been shouldered with so much responsibility already. His dreams will go unseen in the light of our expectations.”

  “His only dream is to keep his Abbu happy.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Hussain’s eyes were diluted as well. His eyes had filled up only once before and that was long ago when he was a little boy and was left alone to die in a railway yard as his family abandoned him. He had never taken to tears again since then.

  “I’m his mother. I can tell. Keep faith in Allah.” She gave an assuring smile.

  “Abbu,” a voice said from behind, it was Arshad. He was holding few currency notes in hand, “everyone liked our tea today Abbu. Everyone was happy. Here is the money, lot of money. We can buy a tea stall near the ma… maa…”

  “Mall” Hussain filled in.

  “Yes, Abbu. If we keep selling good tea every day like this, we will have more happy customers and soon we can start it.” The little boy exclaimed innocently.

  Hussain released his wife and turned towards his son and gently lifted him up in the air, holding him tightly, “You are a little man… having a modest dream… but a big heart!”

  Arshad chuckled joyfully. He hardly understood what his father said but he knew he was complimented and he loved it. Hussain’s other kids joined the scene playfully. They all shared the little joys of life. Hussain was happy that his son wasn’t like that arrogant teenager at the metro station.

  Allah had indeed blessed him.

  Fifty Two

  Prakash Bhawan

  05:53 PM

  There was a slight strain in the forehead. He felt something pushing his eyebrow inward but that did not stop Jai from looking around. There were people. Lot of them and somebody shouted out something in excitement.

  Jai realized he was laying down on something. Something soft. He had been on that something before, many times before. He felt that familiar softness on which he had been resting his body for the past three years. It was his own bed.

  Then appeared a woman from somewhere in his view, with tears in her eyes. She carried a plumbing smile and instinctively thanked God, ‘Hey Ram! Tera laakh laakh Shukar hai!’

  ‘Mom? What has happened?’ Jai gargled in a hush voice.

  The woman pressed on the boy who was lying on the bed. Jai was happy to see his mother who could not hold her tears but he still could not place himself in that situation. What had happened?

  ‘Hey bro!’ a very familiar voice called out.

  Jai turned towards another figure. Anwar was standing there with a warm hand on Jay’s naked shoulder.

  ‘Yaar! You’re here! Where is...’ Jai tried hard but he could not speak more.

  ‘Sab theek hai. Everything is all right.’ Anwar guaranteed.

  ‘Woh?’ Jai asked.

  ‘Woh bhi. She’s at her grandma’s in Simla. She has sent her warmest wishes.’

  ‘My head is spinning, I don’t understand anything.’ Jai confessed.

  ‘Hey bro! chill, Everything’s cool! We all love you!’ He smiled and pressed Jay’s palm gently with his.

  Jai smiled. He looked around. Last thing that came into his mind was a fat man and his piercingly luring story. According to his mind, He was not supposed to be where he was right now. What had happened he could not gauge. Hadn’t he run away from home? Shouldn’t he have caught a train to Mumbai? There was confusion and a corrosive headache.

  And before Jai could think further a forty something man appeared and sat on the bed, next to Jai. He gently ran his hand through Jay’s long stranded locks. He used to hate the young boy’s hair, rather their length. He would always demand a reduction in length. However, today he loved everything about his son.

  ‘Dad? Oh! Dad. I do not understand anything. I thought… I thought I was…’ Jai tried to recollect.

  ‘It was just a bad dream, son. Just a bad dream’ the mathematician caressed his son.

  ‘But why are there so many people here? Dad!’ Jai cried.

  ‘Last night you ran a very high fever and then you passed out due to the fever. We all thought we would lose you, so your friends came to see you. We were all praying, son!’

  ‘But… but… the letter! My letter, did you read that?’

  ‘What letter?’ Mr. Sharma asked inadvertently.

  ‘The l…’ Jai paused and sighed, ‘Never mind!’

  ‘How are you feeling now?’

  ‘I am sorry Dad! I am extremely sorry. I am young and I agree I am an idiot. I will do whatever you ask me to do.’

  ‘Really?’ His father rechecked.

  Jai wanted to take back his words, but then he decided against it, ‘Yes, Dad! I will do whatever you ask me to.’

  ‘I want you to,’ Mr. Sharma smiled gently and continued, ‘I want you to take rest and get well soon. I love you son! Now go to sleep, we will wake you up for dinner later.’

  Jai smiled back. He did not want his father to leave. Somehow, he wanted to rest his tired head on his father’s lap, as he used to do back as a 9 year old. However, some unfamiliar names and faces kept hanging around his head. It all felt very strange and heavy. But like his father had said, it was just a bad dream. Maybe he had encountered a ghost or it was just a part of his conscience that took the form of a fat man and made him realize that he had to go back home. That he had to go back to his father before he would lose him a
nd everything forever. What was his name again? The fat man who narrated a story in Jay’s dream.

  Jai felt a slight prick in his buttock. Soon he felt drowsy and it was time to dream again. Meet that man again, maybe.

  Iyer, Krishnaprasad Iyer.

  Fifty Three

  May 22 2010

  06:15 PM

  ‘Thank you very much children’ Mr. Sharma announced gratefully.

  ‘It’s always cool, uncleji, we all love Jai as much as you do!’ Anwar clarified.

  ‘Please make sure that nobody ever reveals what had happened to Jai. Ever!’ Sharma warned.

  ‘We will make sure of that, uncleji’

  ‘If he asks, just tell them, it was a dream. He never ran away from here, there was no letter. You simply cover up with the story that I made up, ok?’

  ‘Of course, now if you may, we got to go. It is late.’

  ‘Thank you, beta. Sure, you must leave for your parents will be waiting for you too. We need to have a quiet family dinner with our son.’ Mr. Sharma finally said.

  The teenagers left and Mrs. Sharma locked the door. She looked at her husband who was just standing next to her. She was not crying anymore.

  ‘Why did you lie to Jai?’ She demanded.

  ‘I just did not want to remind him of something that would make him run away again.’

  ‘But I thought that you did not care. You said he was a weakling, you were so harsh on him this morning.’ She accused her husband.

  ‘He is a weakling, definitely. My measurements are never wrong.’

  ‘Then? Why is this sudden change of mind? What may have caused it?’

  ‘A mathematical equation. Rather a proposition.’ He jammed.

  ‘What?’ Mrs. Sharma was surprised to hear that.

  ‘Well, it goes like this, Priya, X is inversely proportional to Y, where X is the anger and frustration of a father.’

  ‘And Y?’

  ‘The love and care of a father. You see, he might be a weakling, and that too a pathetic one, but at the end of the day, he is my only son and I love him more than anything in this world. Even the numbers that I am so proud of are just so infinitesimally smaller than the love for my son.’

  ‘Awww!’ the wrinkled wife had a tear in her eye and she quickly pressed herself on her husband’s aged but strong shoulders.

  ‘Priya, Back in my college days, one of my hostel mates made me watch a South Indian movie. I got most of the movie because he had subtitles for us who did not understand his language. Everything apart there was one line that stayed with me forever.’

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘The earth revolved around the sun and the universe revolved around MATHEMATICS! I liked that very much, touched me. But today, I realized something.’

  ‘And…?’ She waited for him to reveal.

  ‘Mathematics might be the greatest force. So great, that the earth and the universe may be circling it. But it is still incompetent because there is no number in mathematics which could measure the amount of love I have in my heart for my son.’

  The woman did not know what to say. She simply clanged to the man’s chest.

  ‘The police did not find Jay’s cellular phone, what are we going to tell him when he asks about his cellular phone?’ She asked concernedly.

  ‘Tell him that you lost it somewhere.’ Mr. Sharma suggested.

  ‘Why is it always me who has to take responsibility?’

  ‘Come on! I will be the one who will be buying him a new iPhone, so you take the little blame. He will get over Nokia soon.’

  She held her husband tightly for another moment before they finally went their ways. She went to the kitchen and he went to wake Jai up for dinner.

  Fifty Four

  Next day, May 23 2011

  10:25 AM

  The morning was splendid. Jai woke up early, which in itself was a wondrous event. His father had never witnessed such a phenomenon from Jai ever before. This was surely a positive change in Jay.

  Mr. Sharma was all smiles. After having a quick breakfast and bidding goodbye to his rushing father, Jai sat down on the front couch. He felt different because nobody talked about higher studies or asked ‘what are you going to do next?’ kind of questions at the breakfast table that morning. His father’s plan had worked pretty well and Jai was convinced that he was unconscious and all that happened was just a dream he had had while he was unconscious. He picked up the morning newspaper. He unfolded the front sheet; his head still had a strange dizziness clustered around it.

  He concentrated on the newspaper. The first news on the front page had a huge picture of tall black man with long hair. He read the headline-

  Gayle storms Superkings, helps Bangalore win by 8 wickets

  Superkings? Somebody told me he liked Superkings. Who was that? Jai thought.

  He liked the Daredevils but unfortunately Delhi was still placed at the bottom in the year’s League table. Therefore, the event that was rocking the entire country did not stir Jai even by an ounce of a bit. He moved onto the next headline.

  Miraculous surgery saves 67 year old man

  A small photo of the man who had survived the miracle placed at the center of the news piece drew a very familiar picture. Jai had seen this man before.

  But Where?

  The question bugged him. He had seen that man somewhere, and that too very recently and that attenuated his headache. He closed in on the details. There was a mention of a Dr. Jaydev Singh. The name was familiar too. However, before he could read further, another news headline caught his attention.

  Man crushed to death; halts Gurgaon Metro Line for 11 hours

  Jai started reading that particular news. He ran through the first few lines quickly and then slowed down with every detail that he got. Every word he read caused his heart to pump blood faster. Some person had been run over by a Gurgaon Metro Bombardier train on it is journey towards Huda City Center. Apparently, the man was standing with his back rested on the door. The door accidentally opened up while the train was in full motion. He fell off the train into the other track and run over by another train that was heading towards Jahangirpuri. There were some words that were highlighted with vague familiarities- Gurgaon Metro, Yellow line halted, Ghittorni, bulky man etc. Jai recollected the entire dream he had last night. All those names and nouns had a special mention in his dream. He knew he was close to something and absolutely believed the possibility that it all had happened to him yesterday. Tension grew within him as he read on.

  The next paragraph contained the description of the victim’s identity. He was identified as a 30 something man of Tamil origin. Jai was about to read the next line which would reveal the name of the person and that is when his doorbell rang. The sudden outburst of cuckoo’s call shook Jai.

  There was absolute silence.

  Jai stood up slowly and then walked to the door. His heart had already lost faith in his body. Cautiously he turned the knob of the door and opened it.

  Fifty Five

  There was a tall man standing in front of Jai. His wrinkled face had the clear resemblance of somebody whom Jai had seen in his dream. He had had a conversation with the person in that dream. Now, that man was there right in front of Jai. The man himself carried a very tense expression on his face. He was panting in halves.

  Everything he had seen in the dream was recurring in his real life. The man who survived the surgery, the name of the surgeon, the train accident and the metro station. The dream was too real to be false or was it really a dream? Jai started losing his mind as confusion crept in.

  He looked into the eyes of the tall man and enquired, ‘You?’ The question was rather a conformational enquiry. Jai was trying to confirm that he had indeed met him a day ago. He asked ‘I… I know you!’

  ‘Yes, Salaam Vaalekhum!’ the tall Pathan greeted.

  Jai nodded blankly.

  ‘I am glad that you remember me from our brief encounters from yesterday’ The Pathan acknowledge
d.

  ‘So, we did meet. It was real.’

  ‘Yes, I am sorry. I am Hussain Ansari. I own a small tea stall in Ghittorni.’

  ‘Ok, what are you doing here? How did you find me?’ Jai thought for a moment and then accused, ‘Are you following me?’

  ‘No! No! Son, I am not following you. I just wanted to return something.’

  ‘Return what?’

  Hussain threw his left hand into the Kurta’s pocket, produced a gadget, and said showing it to Jai, ‘I think this belongs to you.’

  Jai looked at the gadget, it was a Nokia mobile phone wrapped unintelligently by its earphone. He immediately identified it as the phone, which he owned. The phone that he had had thrown away in his dream, a dream that did not seem like a dream anymore. He took it from Hussain’s withered hand.

  ‘Where did you find it? And how did you know it belonged to me? Did you see me throwing it away?’

  ‘No! Of course not’

  ‘Then? Please tell me, and how the hell did you find out where I live?’ Jai looked at the man’s beard and other facial features and asked accusingly, ‘Are you a mujahidin or something? Were you tracking me down? Did you plant something in my phone?’

  ‘No! No!’

  ‘Then how do you explain everything? Or am I dreaming again?’

  ‘No, you are not dreaming. You are not crazy either.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Jai asked.

  ‘I am sorry but yesterday I seriously suspected that you were crazy. You were either talking to yourself or talking total non-sense. I was sure you were crazy,’ Hussain came closer and whispered, ‘but now I know you are not crazy. It is real, it is true!’

  ‘What is true? Tell me, what is real?’

  Hussain fell silent for a moment and then spoke three words in a tone that punctured silence out of the air, ‘He was there!’

  Fifty six

  Metro Station Platform, Ghittorni

  Few hours ago