Link 😉

This satire is based on an interesting visualization of a scene where parents are told to join the online classes along with their little children.

“Honey, have you got the joining link of Chintu’s class? If you’ve got it, please attend the class with him”, mummy said while finishing her kitchen works.

” No dear, you know it very well that in the field of technology I only know that W stands for Whatsapp”, Chintu’s papa gave an excuse sharing good morning messages. In the corner of the room, Chintu was commanding the talking tom to mimic his parent’s conversation.

“Whether it is an offline or online class, it seems that it is only my responsibility”, mummy whispered. Chintu knows each and every application of the mobile phone except the online class joining procedures. Like Abhimanyu from Mahabharata, Chintu was trained for using a mobile phone in the womb itself when his mother, in her pregnancy, used her cellphone adjusting on her stomach, taught her son the processes of using the cell phone. After coming out of the womb, he knew very well to play videos to brush his teeth, video to bath, video to eat, video to sleep and almost video for everything.

Meanwhile, the link had arrived. The school authorities had declared the rules commanding parents to join the class along with their children. It was about five minutes past the class had started that Chintu felt a craving. Mummy instantly gave him a bowl of noodles and told him to pay attention in class. On the other side, the teacher showed objection that parents should provide breakfast to their child before the class.

As soon as Chintu finished his noodles, he was ready for a toilet tour. Mummy took the notes and switched the video off. By the time the English class was over, Papa had already licked up the newspaper. Mummy told him to inform when the link of the next class is received. Busy with his social work on WhatsApp, Papa forgot to inform about the link which he had already received.

“Oh My God, it has been five minutes since the class has started and you…” Mummy’s tension was hyper.

On the couch, Chintu dear is busy with completing the third stage of Subway Surfers. “Mummy, just let me finish this level and I will join… SLAP”; the class was joined.

Chintu was continuously closing the video in anger. Teacher sitting another side, being paid half wage, expressed her anger on the parent, ” All parents have to keep their video switched on.” Paying the total fee even in this lockdown holidays, parents felt like a culprit with their heads down and scolding the child. Chintu once again closed the video. The teacher shouted, “Chintu’s mother pay attention, please. Otherwise, I will remove you.” Chintu’s mother was losing her patience, “I am being scolded because of this stupid Chintu. I’ve never been scolded in my own school life. He is just like his father, never understands anything at once. Just like the father, he is stubborn too. It’s in the gene. And look at this idiot teacher, a little bit of visual glitch and she will throw me out of the class. When Chintu was physically present in the classroom, she never cared if he is learning and now in this online session she is showing off her teaching skills. What a useless teacher she is.” In order to blow her frustration out, she didn’t notice that Chintu had switched the video on.

However, the class of Hindi resumed. The teacher read a few lines of a poem, “पानी बरसा छम छम छम…” Suddenly the teacher’s child started crying in her background. Madam played ‘Jingle Bells’ rhyme on the tab and gave it to her kid. Here Chintu started to scream, “I want a tab just like that one.” After getting tired of crying and screaming, Chintu slept. Presently, the class is being taken by the teacher peacefully and Chintu’s Mummy is paying full attention in the class.

THE GREEN EYES 😟

It was a bone-chilling cold winter day. I was in my hometown Hazaribagh after the term-end examinations were over. Hazaribagh, you can say is a small town in Jharkhand that can be assumed as a ‘hill station of Jharkhand’. But, like other small districts of this state, Hazaribagh too lacks several facilities till date. Absence of healthcare institutions is one bitter truth here. This story is a horror one indicating the situation of government-owned hospitals.

So, I with my father and mother was having a casual day. In the morning we got a call, it was good news. One of my cousin sisters gave birth to a baby at the government-affiliated catholic hospital named ‘Hazaribagh Mission Hospital’. The other news was not so good as the baby was facing certain breathing issues. Hence, he was shifted to a privately owned paediatric hospital where he was kept on ventilation. As soon as we got this news, my mother decided to visit both the baby and his mother. Maa wanted to carry some food for that family at those hospitals. My father advised me to drop him at work and return with the motorbike. I followed him and so I was back home at about 11 in the morning.

After an hour or so, me and maa departed for the hospital. First on our way was the paediatric hospital where the child was admitted. We went there, maa got involved in discussions with the ladies and I had a conversation with the father of the child. Meanwhile, the mother decided to leave for the Mission Hospital along with those ladies and told me to receive her from there after an hour. I waited there and prayed for the better health of the child.

At around 2 pm, I went to the Mission Hospital to see my sister and to receive my mother. Mission Hospital or St. Columba’s Hospital, if I can create an image through words, is a hospital established in the 1920s by the British government. Initially, it was just a missionary institution for the conversion of ‘Adivasis’ living here to Christianity. Later, it became a hospital. There was a time when it was popular for its prompt service and cleanliness but with time everything changed. Today, the hospital lacks cleanliness, maintenance, nurses, doctors, appliances and almost everything. You can say that it is functional just for the sake of being called a hospital.

However, I parked the motorbike and went inside the 3 storeys dull building. I asked the compounder about the patient and the ward she was in. He told me to go straight through the corridor and at the end, I’d find the board saying “General Ward”, where my cousin was admitted. I started walking normally through that dark and long corridor to find it’s ending. In the midway, I found a slope on my left going to the first floor of the building and there was a board that said “General Ward”, arrow indicated to the above floors. I got assured that this is the one and started walking on the slope meant to carry a patient on a stretcher. I was so desperate to see maa that I had no other thoughts in my mind. Neither I found anyone on the way, nor there was fear or need for help at that moment.

I walked independently and came on the first floor where I found an old lady, a very old lady mopping the floor with a piece of cloth. As I was standing in front of her, I was unable to see her face. I noticed a paper band on her wrist with some numerals on it and the wrinkled skin. She was in a dirty old saree. I asked her “Amma, can you please tell me where I will find the general ward?” She raised her chin and I saw that face, the face I can never forget. There were wrinkles, white hair and tinted green eyes. Yes, those were the first and the last pair of green eyes I have ever spotted. She, without answering verbally, indicated me to go up to the 3rd floor of the building. I was in a hurry, and without a second thought, followed the path she had shown.

The second floor of the building was locked. Due to the broken board, I was unable to read it. I went to the 3rd storey and here, on the board, it was clearly written ‘Mortuary’. I felt a cold breeze at the moment warning me to go ahead but my determination to see maa told me to move ahead. I thought maybe the general ward was on the same floor.

I was walking on that ‘L-shaped’ long corridor to find only mortuary rooms with broken window panes and doors. There were spider webs all over the rooms. I noticed the wall full of chrome boxes and hand levers. I was frightened and just wanted to vanish with maa from the hospital as soon as possible. Further, that floor grew darker and I came to the end of the corridor. I was standing in a dark place with a door in front of me. I wanted to ask if someone was there to help me but I feared if someone paranormal will answer me. It was that moment when I decided to call maa and ask her for help.
I was frightened and several negative thoughts were in my mind. My throat was dry, I was unable to utter even a word. I took my cellphone out of the pocket to find not a single bar of the network. I was shivering. I felt the cold more at that moment.

I recalled my way from the ground to this floor and decided to run out of the hospital as fast and as soon as possible. I annexed all my energy and started to run down. In one breath, I crossed the mortuary and the second floor. On the first floor, I stopped to see that the whole corridor was mopped and was literally shining. I remember it very well that when I saw the old lady mopping a few minutes ago, the corridor was full of dust and dirt and she had just started to mop.

At the moment I got assured that everything is not alright here and I continued to run straight out of the building. On the exit gate, I found the same compounder who had roughly guided me. I was drenched in sweat and all my fear came out in the form of anger on him. I yelled at him for misguiding me. He looked questioned at me and told me to come along.

We went to the same place where that slope had started, but this time, there was an iron gate which was locked with a heavy old rusted lock. The compounder told me that the slope and corridors are locked since last 10-12 years and even he had never ever seen it opened. He was frightened and questioned now as to how did I knew that there is an old mortuary on the 3rd storey of the building because a mortuary really exists there. I desperately wanted to see maa at the moment. That compounder took me to the correct place where I found maa sitting and gossiping with other ladies. Looking at my face, she understood that there is something wrong. I came back home with maa and explained everything that I had experienced. She helped me come over my fear.

After everything that happened that day, I still have a question in my mind, “Was she (the old lady) trying to convey or show me something?” The question that I may never get an answer of.

माँ की याद

यहाँ सबको सिर्फ धन-दौलत की भाषा समझ आती है, यहाँ की चिड़िया भी खरीद कर अनाज खाती है।इस शहर में माँ की बहुत याद आती है ।।

यहाँ इमारतों की होड़ में सीमेंट में मिल गयी माटी है, यहाँ अमीरी-गरीबी के दृश्य भाँति-भाँति हैं। इस शहर में प्यारी माँ की बहुत याद आती है ।।

यहाँ मोटरों की शोर में मेरी आवाज़ दब जाती है, यहाँ महँगा खाने-पीने और पहनने से ख्याति है। इस शहर में मुझे माँ की बहुत याद आती है ।।

यहाँ की भीड़ कामयाबी के नशे में मुझे कुचलने को आती है, यहाँ एकान्त में अनायास अश्रु-धारा निकल जाती है । इस शहर में मुझे माँ की बहुत याद आती है।।

यहाँ सपनों में आकर मेरे बालों को सहलाती है, भर जाता हूँ जज़्बे से जब मुझमें माँ मुस्कुराती है । इस शहर में माँ की इतनी याद क्यूँ आती है?

शिरीश निकुंभ

A Warrior Within You

Today it is very common to hear about suicides, depressions, mental retardation and what not just because of a mere failure. In such a situation,  the question arises that are we as a human race evolving ourselves ahead or devolving? We are the most advanced race on this beautiful planet and this fact we often forget. We have evolved from Monkeys as proven by anthropologists and you would be glad to know that monkeys never attempts suicides, they never complained of falling in depression etc.
What I want to convey to this generation is that we need to believe in our potentials. And you can count on me when I say that each and every individual here on this earth, carries a virtue, a potential to make his life worth living. What is needed here is to fight like a warrior with the odd situations in your life. “Do it or die trying”; I’m not sure if you’ve heard this phrase, but it just now stuck my mind. However,  the fight is not physical here, it’s mental. The fight is with yourself. 
Do not take the competition you face academically , the relationship you live in with girl/boy , or whatever be the reason creating a negative thought inside you, be a burden on you. Just put a smile even in the odd situations and think calmly about the solution. Remember one thing, attempting suicide is not a solution, it’s just multiplying the burden amd transfering it on the people who cares and loves you. 
At last, I just want to say, You are not build to loose, you are a warrior, Fight until you succeed.  My well wishes are with everyone. 

The Journey Begins

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton