Long time back, two brothers came to a wise man to get their dispute resolved.
The wise man, being wise, asked each of them to relate their story individually and asked the other to keep quiet when one was speaking.
The elder brother started, "Our father was a crook and a thief". The other nodded at his brothers statement, but kept quiet.
The wise man asked the elder brother to explain his statement.

He continued, "We were a poor family when we were growing up. Our father worked in a train and locomotive workshop. After his shift was over, our father would take pieces of scrap metal like copper, brass, steel etc and bring them home by hiding them in his lunch box".
The younger brother, kept quiet but he nodded at the right statements, showing his agreement to what his elder brother was saying.
"The metal that our father brought home, was sometimes sold to buy food, clothes or other things for the family", elder brother said.
"Over time, some extra pieces of metal started accumulating in one of the old rooms downstairs. And by the time our father retired, the room was half full of scrap metal which was worth a fortune. Our father died few months back and we now have a dispute on division of the scrap metal. We would like you to help us".

The wise man looked at the younger brother and asked if he had anything to add to his brothers statement.
The younger brother said, "Nothing much, except that we would really like this to get resolved soon".

After much thinking, the wise man told them that it is up to them to do what they want. He added that they can divide using a third person to evaluate the worth and then divide accordingly or just divide on faith that even if one of them gets a bigger chuck, it is going to his own blood and not worry too much about the money.

The two brothers left and the wise man went deep into thought. After recollecting his thoughts for few minutes, he stood up as if made his mind about something and walked away. He never met the two brothers again.

Now, if you are with me so far, then this parable may sound incomplete.
I will complete it for you. This incident actually occurred circa 1977, and it deeply moved the wise man.
Years later, when the wise man's son grew up, he told him what decision he made that day.

He told his son, "The two brothers started their case by stating that their father was a crook and a thief. This is the most disrespecting way in which they remembered their father. Their father’s act may be wrong, but his intentions were selfless. He killed his conscious to make sure his kids do not see the hardships they would".

"That day, my son, I made up my mind that I want you to remember me in good light and never feel ashamed of how I led my life. I also made another decision that I will not let a single penny be spent on my son which I have not earned legitimately. My actions should never be cause of shame to my descendants. Through my actions, I want you to remember me with pride that I am your father and you are my son".

Allow me to add another twist to the story. The wise man I am referring to is my father (yes ... I think he is very wise).
Of course, you may have figured out, it was me to whom he said these things.
Who were the two brothers, you ask. Well, I will keep that to myself.

Every time I think about this incident and look back, I am filled with pride and respect for my dad as to how he made that decision and changed his entire life around me.
He has always (yes always) been my conscience - told me the right thing, whether I wanted to do it or not.

Now, I have my own kids. Every time I look at them, my heart fills with the fire that burnt in my dad’s heart. I am motivated to be like my him.
Barring the teenage years of my kids (where I am expecting they would hate me anyways), I hope they feel a sense of pride in me as I do for my dad, when they grow up.

A friend once asked me, "What makes you a good parent?"
After thinking about it for few minutes, I answered, "The fear. The fear that you may fail as a good parent, makes you a good parent".

Find that special little devil in your life, give them a hug. If you don't have one yet, remember ... they are little angels.

Hum ne to nisaar kar diya dil,
Ab jane woh shokh, yaa na jaane.

Here I offer my heart to her,
To accept or say no is upto my sweet.
[Hasrat Mohani]

This was the ibteda (beginning) of my love. A very important phase of my life; for this will decide my fate. If my heart is accepted, then aafreen, otherwise my name will join the list of aashiqs whose love story ended before it ever began.

I have lost the count of days since I first saw her. It must have been years and years, I believe. I still remember when I saw that beauteous face for the first time. And all I could say was,

Aap ko dekh kar dekhta rah gaya,
Kya kahoon aur kahne ko kya rah gaya.

I saw you and couldn’t take my eyes off,
What other words can describe your beauty.
[Aziz Qaisi]

I have no words to tell you how beautiful she is. Her glowing face, her long raven tresses, her honey dripping voice, her graceful gait like a gazelle, and her hazel eyes.

Yeh jafaaen gham ka chara, woh nijaat-e-dil ka aalam,
Tera husn dast-e-isah, teri yaad rooh-e-mariam.
Teri deed se siwa hai tere shauq mein bahaaran,
Woh zamin jahaan giri thi tere gaissuon ki shabnam.
Yeh ajab qayaamaten hain teri rahguzr mein guzraan,
Na hua ke mar miten hum, na hua ke ji uthe hum.

This cures oppressive griefs, that delivers the heart,
Your beauty is the hand of Christ, your memory Merriam’s face.
More beauteous than you is the love awakened earth,
Fertilized by dew of your fragrant lochs.
Strange are the calamities in the path of love,
Nor we have will to live, nor the strength to die.
[Faiz Ahmed Faiz]

And not to forget those ruby red lips,

Gharq-e-shaqar hue hain kaam-o-zabaan,
Jab liya hun main nam tuj lab ka.

My palate and tongue get honey drenched,
Whensoever I mention your lips.
[Wali Mohd. Wali]

And in this way my infatuation began. A strange feeling was all over me,

Dil-e-nadaan tujhe hua kya hai?
Aakhir is dard ki dawa kya hai?
Mai bhi munh mein zabaan rakhta hun,
Kaash puchho ke mudda kya hai?

What ails thee, my silly heart?
What balm for your ache, at last?
I too have a tongue, I too can speak,
Would that you ask, what I crave?
[Asadullah Khan Ghalib]

I was surrounded by her. She was in my dreams. She still is. I was restless. I started looking forward to seeing her each day; Wali has rightly said,

Dekhna har subah tujh rukhsaar ka,
Hai mutaala matlai-anwaar ka.
Subah tera daras paya tha sanam,
Shauq-e-dil muhtaaj hai taqraar ka.

To see your face every morn,
Is to see the glorious flush of dawn.
I saw you just this morning, Love,
Lo, my heart yearns again.
[Wali Mohd. Wali]

One is highly intoxicated when in love. Radiance of light of love spreads its aura all around you. Iqbal farmaate hain,

Anokhi waza hai saare zamaane se niraale hain,
Yeh aashiq kaunsi basti ke yaarab rahne waale hain.

Strange are their looks, out-of-this world they seem!
Wherefrom, O Lord, do these lovers spring?
[Sir Mohd. Iqbal]

I then thought of expressing myself. And thanks to the “Benevolent Lord of the Three Worlds” who arranged that also,

Baam par aane lage woh, samna hone laga,
Ab to izhaar-e-mohabbat barmila hone laga.

She now comes on roof top, face to face we stand,
Love is now proclaimed without least reserve.
[Hasrat Mohani]

But these encounters were unable to put my restless heart to rest. I then pumped all my blood into my heart and approached her, one day. I stopped her. She stopped. Smiled. I opened my mouth and ark! nothing came out of it. Them I stammered & stuttered. Her beautiful radiant face and equally beautiful smile had left me speechless. And before she left, all I could think was,

Mere dil ko kiya be-khud teri ankhion ne aakhir kon,
Ke jion be-hosh karti hai sharaab, ahista, ahista.

Your eyes,at last, have entranced my heart,
As wine benumbs our wits, step by step.
[Wali Mohd. Wali]

And all I could see was a drop of sweat, from her tresses trickled on her cheek and lo, how wondrous to see sun splashed over with dew. She again smiled and ran away. I stood there. Standing there. Still. And I told myself,

Ibtadaae ishq hai, rota hai kya,
Aage aage dekhiye hota hai kya.

It’s only the beginning, why dost thou groan?
O, wait and see what happens as you onwards move.
[Mir Taqi Mir]

I was captured by the long and deadly roots of love. More I tried to free myself, more I got entangled in them,

Yaad karna har ghari us yaar ka,
Hai wazifaa mujh dil-e-bimaar ka,
Aakbat kya howega maalum nahin,
Dil hua mubtla dildaar ka.

Remembering my Love all the time,
Is all the prayer my sick heart knows,
I know not how its going to end,
I’ve lost my heart to my sweet heart.
[Wali Mohd. Wali]

I was then avoided, tracks, streets, bazaars, changed on seeing me. I was sad,

Muddat hui sajan ne dikhaya nahin jamaal,
Dikhla apas ke kad kon kiya nahin nihaal.

For long hasn’t my Love shown her beauteous face,
Nor with her stately presence uplifted my state.
[Wali Mohd. Wali]

And I wailed,

Husn-e-be parwah ko khud bin-o-khud aara kar diya,
Kya kiya maine ke izhaare tamanna kar diya.

Beauty self-oblivious has turned self- aware,
O, why at all did I express my heart’s desire?
[Hasrat Mohani]

The days were tiring; the nights long,

Tum aae ho na shab-e-intzaar guzri hai,
Talaash mein sahar baar baar guzri hai.
Woh baat saare fasaane mein jiska zikar na tha,
Woh baat unko bahut nagawaar guzri hai.
Na gul khile hain, na unse mile hain, na mai pi hai,
Ajib rang mein ab ke bahaar guzri hai.

You haven’t come, nor has the night of waiting gone,
Looking for you the morn has called again & again.
What did not even figure in the tale entire,
To that he has taken very grave offence.
No flames, no wine, no sight of my friend,
In what queer way we’ve spent this spring.
[Faiz Ahmed Faiz]

Nobody heard my cry, but nothingness. All words were lost there. Days passed. Months passed. And even did the years. Nothing was exchanged between us. There was vast, immense, dark and dead silence. My heart was crushed, that was the first time I realized it.

Tujhiko jo yaan jalwa farma na dekha,
Baraabar hai duniya ko dekha na dekha.
Mera Guncha-e-dil hai woh dil grifta,
Ke jis ko kaso ne kabhi wa na dekha.
Aziat, musibat,malaamat, balaaen,
Tere ishq mein hum ne kya kya na dekha?
Kiya mujh ko daaghon ne sarv-e-chiraaghan,
Kabhi tune aakar tamaasha na dekha.

If here we see thee not immanent in thy grace,
What use then, our earthly pilgrimage?
My heart is such a crumpled bud,
None has ever seen it bloom.
Trouble, torture, reproach, disaster,
What all haven’t I suffered in love?
The scars within have set me ablaze,
Alas, you haven’t seen this sight.
[Khwaja Mir Dard]

I had initiated. She had taken a step back. So I coiled all my feelings around myself. Meetings became scanty. On those rare occasions when we used to see each other, I would often think,

Roya karenge aap bhi pahron isi tarah,
Atka kahin jo aapka dil bhi meri tarah.

You too shall weep for hours on end, if your
Heart, like mine, somewhere gets entwined.
[Momin Khan Momin]

Then the sky fell down on my head. She was in love with someone else. The sky had fallen over my head. The world must have reached qayaamat (end of the world). But, I could spare a smile for her,

Donon jahaan teri mohabbat mein haar ke,
Woh jaa raha hai koi shab-e-gham guzaar ke.
Bhule se muskra to diye hum aaj Faiz,
Mat puchh walwale dil-e-naakarda kaar ke.

Having lost both worlds in the game of love,
There goes lonesome man, ending his night in grief.
Today, Faiz, unawares you chanced to give a smile,
O what a swell and surge within my powerless heart.
[Faiz Ahmed Faiz]

Once, when I met her, I told her,

Mera ji hai jab tak, teri justju hai,
Zabaan jab talak hai, yehi guftgu hai,
Tamanna hai teri, agar hai tamanna,
Teri aarzoo hai, agar aarzoo hai.

Your quest is my objective, as long as I live,
Of you alone I talk, while I have a tongue,
For you alone I yearn, if yearn at all,
You are my desire, if I harbour one.
[Khwaja Mir Dard]

And I was reminded of Ghalib’s great ghazal,

Hazaaron khwaaeshen aisi ke har khwahish pe dam nikle,
Bahut nikle mere armaan, lekin phir bhi kam nikle.
Nikalna khuld se adam ka sunte aaye the lekin,
Bahut be-aabroo ho kar tere kuche se hum nikle.

Thousand of desires tantalizing one and all,
Many a wish have I realized; yet I yearn for more.
Oft have we heard about Adam’s exile from Eden,
Humiliating much more was my exit from your door.
[Asadullah Khan Ghalib]

And, with what else can I end but,

Hum parwarsh-e-loh-o-qalam karte rahenge,
Jo dil pe guzarti hai raqam karte rahenge.
Ek tarz-e-taghaaful hai so woh unko mubarak,
Ek tarz-e-tamanna hai so hum karte rahenge.

We’ll keep on plying the pen on the page,
Record shall we the tale of our heart.
A style of indifference will be her way,
A style of submission will be our creed.
[Faiz Ahmed Faiz]

 

• Copyright 1995-1997, Jatinder PS Nagi. Originally written in April 1995, revised in May 1997.
• The English translation of the Urdu poetry is taken from the book "Masterpieces of Urdu Ghazals" by K.C. Kanda, Sterling Press, India.
• This was the first piece of writing I put together. I was under many spells, one of them being the Urdu poetry. So this was the result.

Heavy? Don’t worry, I’ll lighten everything up. The last time I wrote was when I fell in love … … with 'a book' … … and that too of philosophy of Plato. And my friend Ashu Garg, he wrote recently to me, saying so.

My falling in and out of love is a story that stretches far back in time. I have fallen in love number of times and (luckily) fallen out of it till I found Gitanjali.

Anyway, flashback. I recall one incident on the time-line during which my heart would skip a beat on seeing her. She was (and is) somewhat of a whizz-kid.

The settings this time are shifted to the beautiful and serene Chandigarh. And that’s here that I fell in love for the second time (yes, it was my second crush). The city is beautiful, the climate – just right and she was absolutely stunning. What else is required? … … Richard Bach? … …

Did I hear someone mention a name that sounded like some classical music composer of olden times whom my friend Misha would very often impress upon me to listen? And what the hell was this Richard Bach doing in my private and personal love story? Well, he was there. No way out of it and no denying of it. Richard Bach. The lines in the beginning of this piece are by him.

I was studying in the local engineering school and she was there too. my junior (I hope everybody has guessed her by now). I fell in love with her, not at the first sight or first bite (as my good friend Mols would put it). But this happened over time, with some encouragement from Mols and other. she was his classmate. Slowly and steadily, the poison of love entered my thought my heart and into my head. “What a girl!”

Lets skip some details of how I got to know her and all the stuff I did to make her notice me which she did, we’ll go directly to one incident of me with her. So flash-forward a little.

I was sitting with her at her place, and we started talking about books (Oh my God! Save me.). I became an avid reader after that encounter, but at that time I would say I was … not a great reader and was likely not very comfortable discussing about them books. But anything for her.

“Do you read?”, she asked. What a question. Of course I read. I did my schooling in a British Convent School, and yes ma’am I do read.

“Yeah.”

“What do you prefer in fiction?”, now wait a minute, what is fiction … … my mind was running its horses; fiction … fiction … yes - stories.

“I prefer pulp.” In my mind I silently thanked Quentin Tarantino for making Pulp Fiction. If many of you have not guessed, I’m a movie-buff too.

“Do you? What all authors have you read?”
“I don’t read much. I prefer music and movies. But sometimes I read. I’ll tell you about the first novel I read (apart from my school). That was Sidney Sheldon’s If Tomorrow Comes. One of our family friends suggested it.”

“So you like Sheldon in pulp?” Hmmm. OK, so Sheldon writes pulp … …

“Yeah.”

“Sonu, I’ve read many authors and many styles. Now I would like to read philosophy and some more meaningful writings. Have you heard of Richard Bach.”

That was the first time in my life I heard about Richard Bach. Who was this Bach. Misha would often come to my hostel and put Bach’s compositions at very high volume … boring the hell out of all of us. But same man cannot be a philosophical or meaningful writer and a great composer at the same time (or could be, you never know). Richard must be someone else.

“Yeah.” I was trying to be ecstatic, “Richard Bach. O my God! You should have told me; rather we should have talked about him earlier. Do you know my father reads a lot and Richard Bach is one of his favorite authors? Do you know that he has all of his famous books? I think 5 or 6 of them. But personally I would have skipped though 1 or 2, but his writing do not impress me much. Actually, I am more practical, so I prefer staying away from all that needs brains.” I was trying everything to win her.

Now that I have made an easy way out of all the discussions that I could have gotten myself into, I’ll tell you about my father. Well he reads a lot … he reads jokes, newspapers and his immense collection of advanced calculus books. If you would ask him, he would say who is Richard Bach. He is all logic and no philosophy. He doesn’t even know if a man with such a name ever existed.

“O really? Do you have all the Bachs? Well that’s wonderful. Have you read Jonaston Livingstone Seagull? Oh, I have read it long time back. It’s beautiful!”

Jonaston Livingstone Seagull? Now what is this? Must be some seagull. “Oh yeah, it’s different. Unlike many stories we read in our day to day lives.” This is the most appropriate answer. For those articulate people who are very good in discussion, I think they would understand that at this point I must give discussion a new turn.

“Yes Sonu, this small book really makes a difference in one’s life. After reading the book, one thing has become pretty clear in my mind, we are not here for mere earning our bread and butter. Life is all about exploring new heights, think about them till you reel under the pressure, dream about them and nurture them.”

God help me.

“I read it long time back. I was younger. So I never perceived it like that. Would you like to read it? I can get it to you.” Let’s get out of this seagull business, I was thinking myself.
“I can get you the book. I have it in Amritsar.”

“Can you?” there was twinkle in the eye and a beautiful smile on the face. I could have done anything at that time.

“Sure. But its in Amritsar. Rather, I’ll get all his books, next time I’ll go to Amritsar. You can read them all.”

“Oh thank you, Sonu. That’s so nice of you”. Oh yes, I am nice.

And henceforth this man … … what’s his name – Richard Bach came to my young life.

Well I stayed for some time and had some pakoras (fried fritters) with her while I was being given this dhobi patkaa about Richard Bach. Before taking leave, I promised her that next time I’ll go to Amritsar, I’ll get all of Bachs.

It was 4’o clock in the afternoon when I left her place and it was Thursday. On my way back, I stopped in Sector 17 at Capital Book Depot. My friend Ajay’s dad is the owner of that shop (he became my friend after this Bach). I went to him and asked for Bach … Richard Bach. He looked at me from head to toe (“Don’t I look like one of those Richard Bach guys?”).

He showed me to the shelf and I could see was a rack in front of me with all the Bach. He suggested Kahlil Gibran, if I was about to start with this kind of writings but I told him that I’d buy only Bach. He went away and I counted that six of the titles of this author were lying there. I brought all the six of them on the counter and asked Ajay for the price of all. He said they’d all cost me around Rs 800. And I had none in my pocket. I told him that I have no money with me but I would like to buy all of these tomorrow and he can keep a set aside for me. He said that would be no problem at all and that I can come anytime to buy them.

Now to arrange Rs 800. In the evening, my parents called (they used to call me everyday, even today they call me almost everyday) and I told them that I was out of money and needed to pay some hostel dues and I also need to buy few books. My father never questioned me about money. He said that I can collect the money from the driver of a local bus service (Maharaja Travels) that runs between Amritsar and Chandigarh. Wonderful. The very next day around half past 10, I got the money. Two thousand rupees.

Hit Capital Book Depot. Ajay recognized me, I think it was easy for him since I was wearing the same clothes that I was wearing the day before. He was surprised that I have come back for Bach. Many people do not turn out after they have asked the bookseller to keep some books aside for them. I bought the books, made the payments. That’s when Ajay and me came to know each other. I have bought many books after that from him.

Over the weekend, I read Jonathan Livingston Seagull, One, There's No Such Place As Far Away. So now I knew who is Richard Bach. Then I started with Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah and then later after 3 days I started with Biplane. Well I was through with five of his books. And then the one that remained was The Bridge Across Forever: A Love Story. On Friday Misha came. Misha’s eyes twinkled at the sight of these books. He saw all the books lying scattered in my room. His expression was of a clown who gets struck by a baseball (or cricket) bat and passes out with the smug happy expression on his face.

“Sardarji, theek thaak ho (surdy, are you alright)?” was his instant question. After much dodging around, I ended up telling him the truth. Now it was easy to talk to him. Needless to say, Misha had read almost all the books. We had a nice discussion.

“After reading the book, one thing has become pretty clear in my mind. we are not here for mere earning our bread and butter. Life is all about exploring new heights, think about them till you reel under the pressure, dream about them and nurture them.” I repeated what she had said to me.

Misha had his own ideas, “ It also tells us that to follow freely the promptings of heart, one must not conceal from oneself that life is coarse and ruthless in its own wayward course. The book is a bid to rekindle the sleeping Jonathan Livingston Seagull in all of us. Through the seagull, the author explains this to us and takes us to the finer nuances of life. What does a man need? We always think of common things - bread, butter and a bed to sleep on. After reading the book, you will see that there is more to life than those. You don't have to simply live for them. How about bringing a pose of roses for your beloved from the stiff cliffs of Alpine, when roses are out of season. This book will teach and prompt you to do that.”

I was impressed. Misha, the great. Now I can talk about this author.

“This book packs into a few short pages a plethora of universal truths. It is a simply written tale of the nature of purpose and of perfection. It’s a story of freedom and thought and immortality that ought to inspire even the most stubborn pessimists and nay-sayers.”, I added as now I understood it better.

Misha made himself comfortable in my room (as he always used to do). Many ideas were exchanged over lunch and over evening tea. Misha wore the same smug expression and was also enjoying every moment of it.

He started another thread of discussion, “There's No Such Place as Far Away, now that is an amazing piece. When she was about to turn five, a little girl named Rae Hansen invited Richard Bach to her birthday party. Though deserts, storms, mountains, and a thousand miles separated them, Rae was confident that her friend would appear. There's No Such Place As Far Away chronicles the exhilarating spiritual journey that delivered Rae's anxiously awaited guest to her side on that special day – and tells of the powerful and enduring gift that would keep him forever close to her heart. Richard Bach's inspiring, now – classic tale is a profound reminder that miles cannot truly separate us from friends ... that those we love are always with us – every moment of the infinite celebration we call life.”

I was getting ideas too. as I said, “This is one of those rare books that has a timeless message and a simple beauty which belie its brevity. You can read this book in ten minutes. And, you can re-read it a hundred times and feel differently about it each time. Consider it the abridged Jonathon Livingston Seagull or Illusions, but don't think of it as leaving out anything of importance. I particularly like this book because, in a few minutes, it helps me remember some of the simple truths of life – that time and space cannot separate us from the one's we love. Besides that, it has some fantastic water-color illustrations which I found enjoyable to simply view.”

“Yes, exactly. Very true, very true”, Misha said sipping his tea.

I wanted to explore more. “And Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah. In the cloud-washed airspace between the cornfields of Illinois and blue infinity, a man puts his faith in the propeller of his biplane. For disillusioned writer and itinerant barnstormer Richard Bach, belief is as real as a full tank of gas and sparks firing in the cylinders...until he meets Donald Shimoda--former mechanic and self-described messiah who can make wrenches fly and Richard's imagination soar.... In Illusions, the unforgettable follow-up to his Richard Bach takes to the air to discover the ageless truths that give our souls wings: that people don't need airplanes to soar...that even the darkest clouds have meaning once we lift ourselves above them... and that messiahs can be found in the unlikeliest places--like hay fields, one-traffic-light midwestern towns, and most of all, deep within ourselves.”

Misha had something to say too. “The best part is the thought-provoking dialogue between a guy named Richard and a real Messiah. This story will change you if it ever get into your head.”

Misha left for home later in the evening. That night, I finished Biplane. It was first time in my life I felt there is more than Sidney Sheldon to life. There is Richard Bach. Oh what a writer. I was doing it all because of her. Did you guys think I forgot her, talking about Misha and Richard Bach? Of course not.
And all these days, I must tell you, I was meeting her everyday and we talked and chatted a bit – but not Richard Bach.

During the next weekend I finished with The Bridge Across Forever: A Love Story. Bach wrote of a man haunted by the ghost of a wise, mystical, lovely lady who lived just around the corner in time. This story tells of his quest to find her. His search for his dreamed-of soulmate, his detour into wealth and success, and his ultimate meeting with the woman with whom he has found love and enchantment. If you've ever felt alone in a world of strangers, missing someone you've never met, you'll find a message from your love in this book. Isn't it amazing how our life is so in our faces yet we are too blind to see? This reconnects to the hummings from my inner self and not the moaning of the outside world. When we are finally at one, awake, and aware who knows maybe we can all have it. We get the answers all the time but we push them away for whatever reason. An inspiration to love beyond this life.

Well, I had read it all and was ready to talk to anyone about this author. All this to get the attention of that someone special. Over the next weekend, I went to Amritsar to meet my parents. Spent some time with them. Met couple of friends. Missed her. Travelled back to Chandigarh.

On Monday, I met her in the department. After daily greetings, I told her that I had brought the books she wanted. She was happy to know that and seeing her happy, I was happy too. That evening I took the books to her place and gave it to her. And even suggested the one’s she should read first and the one’s that are to be savored last.

She read them in about 10-12 days time. I had continued to meet her wherever I could and even discussed the books individully with her (thanks to Misha). She was happy to know that I had read them all. She was impressed by my versions and understanding of these writings (I think). Afterwards, she suggested many more books to me and many more she demanded (the one’s she wanted to read and Ajay happily supplied me with them (of course not free).

And that how I came to know about Richard Bach. As I write this, I see that set of books in front of me. As I look back, sometimes I think I was making a fool of myself, and at other times, I think that she has to be thanked at some point for making me a more ferocious reader. I have read hundreds of books since, needless to say even more heavier than Richard Bach. But these books have a special place in the time line of my life. It was fate, destiny or her, but in the end, she did make a difference in my life, and my reading.

Wherever she is in the world, I hope she is reading some new book, or maybe she is reading the ‘life’ itself.


June 1999, February 2008
Copyright JPS Nagi, 2008

The ambience is New Delhi and the time - the summer of 97. A year earlier, I was new to Delhi. Fate brought me to the big city to seek better career. Then I got a job.

I was working as Marketing Executive in Siemens Ltd. I was lucky enough to start my career in such a big company. Gave me immense confidence and an open outlook. I being new to the work culture and in an attempt to prove my mettle, worked hard. Sometimes I would work as much as two people. I would work till the late hours. I was challenging mine and my boss's limits of working. So my boss was happy with me. Since I had not developed a habit of saying no to anyone, I was often given more work than my share. So this would lead to be overwhelmed at times with my work.

Few times was fine and then I realized that I had to say 'no' and I took courage and said so. My boss didn't take it well and frowned a little. For next few days, the tension between both of us rose and we were both feeling uneasy in each other's presence. I talked to my father about it (who happens to call me every night wherever I am till today). On that night I was even thinking about resigning. I was really upset. That day onwards, I started having what is called as bad-days in the corporate slang. At times, my spirits would be down when I reach home.

I was living in Delhi with my brothers. Had couple of Bhabhi's (sisters-in-law). So the middle one of my bhabhi's was really concerned (they were three). She would often say, "Forget about him (the boss) and sleep now."; but I guess she started sensing the troubled times I was going through.

One day a cousin of mine lands up in Delhi who has a fine knowledge of palmistry and astrology. Our family generally seeks his help in many occasions (yes it is a common in India). I was in the office and my bhabhi told him about my problem with my boss and asks if he can be of some help. He gives a call to me at my office and after salutations and all, he asks about my time of birth. I tell him. That night when I reach home, my bhabhi and my cousin were waiting for me.

After freshening up and dinner, I sat with my nephews for their homework. That’s when my bhabhi who is in the other room calls me, "Sonu, idhar aanaa. (come here)"

As I look back, I laugh at the scene in the room. My cousin with all his papers and stuff spread in front of him, with some weird kind of charts drawn on the sheets of paper filled with some strange symbols. I knew it was someone’s janampatri (horoscope). Eventually, I found that that it was mine.

My bhabhi starts telling me that she talked to my cousin about my difficulty to get along with my boss and has asked my cousin to find some upaaye (an astrological solution). For the whole day my cousin worked on it and made all the calculations for me. I told them that I was fine and it is just a phase, will pass. and don’t really needed an upaaye. But … I was rendered speechless. I sat there with a blank face. I was telling myself that this may be a thicker soup than it seems that I have finally found myself in. It was almost quarter to 11 at night and I was getting bored looking at my cousin doing some calculations, referring to his red book and asking me few small questions now and then. Besides that whenever I would try to say something, my bhabhi would signal me to keep quiet and not to disturb my cousin in his calculation.

Then around 11:30 at night, my cousin lifts his head and I was looking at a face that was very happy and confident that he shall be able to help me out of it. He tells me that my present boss and I do not get along very well. Wow, thats was very psychic, I thought. He further explained, it was due to that fact that we do not have astrological compatibility (yes the compatibility in India is tested at every point). And he made a prediction, that I will ultimately quit this job. I was quiet amused and surprised and filed with slight feeling of frustration. He was telling me what everyone knew and maybe predicted that if the things continue the way they were, I would quit this job. My cousin noticed my uncanny expression, but ignoring it he carries on and explains to me that my boss is a "dog" who is barking and pushing my good fortune away from me. I argue against him being a dog, he explains that he has the astrological characteristics of a dog. And I'll have to pacify that dog inside him and then he shall be most helpful to me for my career. Otherwise, he will continue the way he was.

On and on he went for next 20 minutes or so. And finally after all the details, he suggests upaaye. He suggested that I should every morning feed few black dogs with biscuits (Indian cookies) and things will be fine. I thought it was funny, and at the same time, a part of me what thinking ... hmmm this could be fun, and I can test the theories out (or maybe I thought this would be a good story someday to write about). Anyway, I tried to hide what was on my mind. I owed it to my bhabhi for the concern she has shown. I patiently listened to my cousin. I also argued that in the morning I have to drive 2 hours to my office, and I'm not not going to look for a black dogs and be doing any such thing as feeding them biscuits. I would get late for work. My bhabhi tells me to keep mum and listen to my cousin. I listened. In the end my cousin suggests bhabhi that if I'm little reluctant in doing so, she should keep some biscuits aside after I touch them in the morning and feed them to the passing dogs in the street. She agreed that this may work out to be the best option. It was way past my bedtime and I was feeling sleepy and so all of us retire to bed.

The next morning dawns. I get ready for the day and when I'm about to leave, my bhabhi stops me and hands over a packet of Glucogold biscuits and asks me to throw it to some black dog I encounter on my way. This was getting a little out of hand I thought. When I said that I'm not going to do it, she opens the packet and takes my hand, and puts it on all the biscuits, and keeps the biscuits in a separate bowl. I wipe off my hand and drive off. This carried on for about a month and everything was fine. As far as boss was concerned, I think the tension had subsided a bit and it was better than before. If it was due to the black dogs enjoying the Glucogold biscuits or anything else, I can not say.

Then probably the stray black dogs stopped coming to our street and that's when my trouble started. One fine morning, she told me to take the biscuit packet with me. I was quiet reluctant to do it. So she tried her brahmastra (ultimate weapon), and asked me if I would do the same if my mother asked. If anyone has grown up in India, you would understand that there is no way out of this brahmastra. I then took the packet from her and went on my way to work. I think it was a lucky day as I encountered a lonely (maybe hungry) black dog within few yards from home. I gave it whole of the packet. It was quiet embarrassing as there were couple of elderly people stopped and stared at me. We all smiled and I went on my way to work.

This was the starting of it. Every morning bhabhi would give me a packet of Glucogold biscuits to feed the black dogs. She, somehow or the other, would make me take it and let the stray black dogs have a party every morning. Mind it, that sometimes these dogs also get to enjoy the Krackjack, or Monaco or some other brand. I am sure they were all getting healthier, to get at least one guaranteed square meal everyday. There would always be more than just the black dogs. There would be browns, the grays, the spotted and many other colors. Within few days most of these dogs became familiar with me and would wag their tails when I approached them. It was not just the dogs, even some of the bystanders, elderly folks, some shopkeepers, and others who knew me by now. My nephews and nieces had started calling me Kaale Kutton Waale Chacha Ji (Uncle with black dogs). It was amusing, most of the time. Above all, my relations with my boss were improving.

Then one day, the municipal corporation (local city administration) came and took all the stray dogs to the pound. That was the day which filled my life with some difficulties to find the black dogs. Every morning, I would ride on my scooter, formally dressed, hunting for the black dogs. It was getting difficult to find them, I was waking up earlier every morning so that I get to reach office in time. Then I started to carpool to office with one of my friends. It was quiet hilarious the first time I told him what all was going on with biscuits and black dogs. we had a blast laughing in his car. From then on, he also started to help me spot some black dogs if he saw one. If we happen to find no black dog, we would eat the biscuits by ourselves. Once my friend even suggested that I should give them to my boss for he is the ultimate dog we are trying to tame. I listened and did offer few biscuits to my boss; and he did eat few.

It was very funny. On my way to my friend’s place, I would see a black dog and would stop my scooter near it. Now hearing the screech of brakes, the dog would get scared and run away. I would put my scooter on stand and run after the dog and seeing me running after them some of them used to run far away and faster. Few of them would growl back and bark at me. Other times, they would not let me come closer to them and few even ran after me and I would run towards my scooter. At times, I threw the biscuits they would get frightened and run away (maybe thinking I am trying to hit them with something). I couldn't help in such cases as the biscuits were plied on by cars or scooters. Some of the dogs would stay there only and I would throw them some biscuits. Couple of dogs would run after me wanting more. Ultimately I was getting a familiar figure in the dog society. Once I almost got bitten by a  dog who wanted more. Now that I think about it all it is very funny especially for people watching someone running after the dogs to feed them, early each morning.

People on the street would stop to see this formally dressed executive looking guy dealing with the dogs. Few would laugh at me and walk away. Couple of them even started recognizing me and we started exchanging greetings. The school children waiting for their bus on the roadside also started recognizing me and many would point towards some dog sitting nearby which I could not locate. The roadside beggars would say, "Bauji, abhi abhi ek kala kutta us taraf gaya hai" (Sir, a black dog ran away in that alleyway few seconds back). I would turn my scooter on that road. So my social circle was increasing, among the people and most of all, the dogs.

This was carried on for about three months or so. Many times during this period, I would get late for office. I was too embarrassed to give an alibi that I was looking for and feeding black dogs. But things were carried on. When I used to get late, my boss would get upset, again.

Over time, I stopped it. And even my bhabhi forgot about it. When I think about it today, I couldn't help laughing about it. It was really hilarious - specially my encounters with the black dogs.

And about my boss, well he is not my boss any longer, as I left that job to find a new one. You may say it was predicted, but then, well it was very predictable.

My relations with my boss did improve, and he over time also realized that there is more to life than just work. I don't know whether it was because of the biscuits or something else. He is one of the most hard working person I have met in my life so far. His passion for his work was commendable. And he also expected people working with him to give as much as him to their jobs. I learned a lot from him professionally and personally. He showed me how one can be passionate about his work, and how one person can make a difference in a company. The lessons I learned while working under him are going to last for a lifetime. I believe that I need to thank him for the path he showed me, making my life a little better, enjoyable in Delhi.

Or should I say, thanks to him, few black dogs enjoyed a nice breakfast for some time.

Saturday, February 20, 1999
Copyright, JPS Nagi 2008