Useless thought- a remembrance of first winter....

It was starting of the January. Christmas was over, but the Edmonton was still in the trance of winter vacations and faded memories of Christmas and New Year night. By December the whole city started looking like a saint wrapped in white shawl of snow. Only roads were left naked. Once in a week or so, bright golden sun could be seen, showering its cold golden light over the city. But mostly the sky famished with sun light, remained dusky throughout the day.
I finished my work in the lab around 5 in the evening and was starving for light evening meal. I turned off all the instruments of my lab I was working with and put back the chemicals at their place. I checked the temperature of outside on internet, it was – 15 deg. I grabbed my cheap but warm “army navy” jacket; put the woollen cap over my head making sure it was covering my ears, wrapped the scarf around the neck. Slide my fingers into the thick winter gloves. Grabbed my bag and walked towards the exit. Before opening the lab door I gave a last glance over my lab to make sure everything was ok and no machine was left turned on. Telling myself, “looks fine”, I opened the door and stepped out of the lab. I realised probably I was the only one who was attending the lab during vacations. Taking a breath of shallow pride of working during the holidays, I approached towards the main exit of the 100 year old gothic building of my department. The city looked perfect, as it is been since December. Every corner was covered with snow. Not even a single inch was left uncovered, while it felt like everything around was in love with the innocence of snow. As a habit, I gave a quick look around me to make it sure that everything was as beautiful as it was when I entered in the 100 year old building, today morning. I put my gloved hands into the pocket of jacket, shrunk my shoulders to the neck and walked towards the bus stop. The chilling wind was pricking my nose and cheeks. I could see a bus waiting at the stop; I quickly crossed the road to get on the other side where bus was standing. I confirmed the route number at the back of the bus and galloped towards it. Bus driver opened the automatic door, giving a blank look over me. It was apparent that he was tired of smiling at passengers all day. I respected his tiredness and silently showed him my bus pass without smiling at him and passed on to look for a seat. There were few people in the bus; most of the seats were empty. I let myself perish over a seat. One of the things in winters is that you never feel fatigue, no matter how much you walk or work. The cold wind entering your nostrils always felt like a first breath in morning, filling you with fresh zeal and energy in every breath you take. Soon the bus started and within only 10 minutes, led me to my bus stop near home in old Strathcona’s heritage “Whyt Avenue”, at 109 street. The avenue is almost 100 year old, full of classical baroque and colonial architectural complexes, shops, lots of pubs and cathedrals. It always gave a feeling of some old European street. I always felt blissed that my home was only 2 blocks away from Whyt Avenue.
While walking towards home over the footpaths covered with fine layer of snow and ice, I saw McDonald’s big “M” shinning only two blocks away. I refused my legs to turn towards my home’s street and lead them to the big “M”, where I could satiate my light evening appetite.
I opened the door of McDonalds and entered. The counter was occupied by a fat lady who must have been in her 40s, ordering her meal. The receptionist was a young pretty girl, who was taking the order from the fat lady. I looked at the other terminal for ordering but no one was receiving on it. I stood behind the fat lady to start a queue. While waiting in the queue I looked at the menu hanging over the wall behind the counter, touching the ceiling. In between while reading the menu, I was looking at the young pretty receptionist and noticing that how she was trying to be good to customers. Fat lady was over with her order. My turn came and I ordered a doublecheese burger, with medium coke and a small fries. 3.25 Dollars, receptionist said. I took out the card from my wallet.
“Debit?” the girl asked.
Yeah! I replied.
“Swipe it please”, the girl asked.
I swiped the card and made the payment.
“You’ll stay or go?” the girl asked again.
I’ll stay, I replied.
“You’ll get your order shortly. Please wait a while”, the girl asked me with a fake but pretty smile. I followed her words and moved few steps back to let other customers order their meal. I didn’t had to wait more than few minutes and my meal was on the counter on a tray.
I grabbed the tray and looked around in the restaurant. I moved forward to look out for best possible corner to sit. While looking for a table, I passed by a bald thin man sitting at a table having his meal while reading a book kept on his table. He must have been around 50 yrs old. Then I noticed that it was not the only book he was having. His whole table was spread over by dozens of books. While on one of the corner on table, he managed to make a place for his tray. He must have been a professor at university. I smiled and passed on to the other sitting section which was close to the footpath outside. One could see the footpaths, road and shops on the other side of the road from the glass near the tables. This is a good place to sit; I said to myself, from where I can see the outside world while having North American cheap light meal. I perished over the chair, putting my tray over the table. I opened the burger, ate a strip of fries and took a sip of chilled coke. After having two or three bites of burger, I relaxed back on the chair and looked outside from the glass with shrunk eyes and relaxed smile on face. The loathsome neon signs of shops were blazing silently on the other side of the road. I noticed the people walking on the footpaths, some trying their best to protect themselves from cold with faces covered with scarf while some walking bare faced in their winter jackets. Few beautiful women passed by the footpath in overcoats and fine trendy winter wears. It was hard to ignore their beauty and groove in their walk.
I took a deep breath and pulled my attention inside the restaurant and started to enjoy the surroundings. I noticed for the first time since I entered in the restaurant that they were playing the soothing Honky- Tonk country music. I tried to catch the song and let myself get engorged in my favourite country music for a while.
There was a huge bulky man with a large beard like Tolstoy on his face, sitting diagonally in front of me on the side row of chairs, about 10 feet away from me. He was busy in reading a novel. The fat lady was also sitting in front of me at the very end of my row. She was busy in reading a tabloid with wrinkled eye brows. The huge man again got my attention; I noticed his beard once again. I could not ignore his peculiar Russian Tolstoy like beard of 18th century. He was not older than 50. He was wearing a T shirt and a lose knee length pent. He should be a bike rider living life of North American country side or might be a teacher in university, I said to myself. I could not help guessing about his life and profession. Finally I settled with a thought that he should be living a life of biker, because he looked like them and because he was sitting in a restaurant which was giving you a feel of country life every second. Leaving behind my useless thought about huge man, I slowly turned my face to look at the back of me in the restaurant. I noticed that restaurant was not filled with more than 5 or 6 people. Except me every one was trying to keep themselves busy in reading something. There was another man behind me reading a novel. He was an old man with a white beard on his face. His wrinkled face was showing the journey of his life. His beard was giving a hint how tough man he must have been in his times. I noticed his hands; they were broad with thick fingers. He must have been a hard working man. I could not see the other side of the restaurant where that professor was sitting, as it was separated by a half wall. I could realise that the restaurant had nothing to do with outside world. It had nothing to do with Edmonton which was struggling with harsh but beautiful winter. Whether it was New Year or a Christmas time, it had already created its own world, with its country music, a pretty receptionist and simple ambience. Some of the customers looked like were only made for that restaurant to confer further the feel of country side. Not less than a Hollywood movie where a cowboy with his old faded 1980s car stops by a country side restaurant, filled with locals of the town.
Except me everyone was busy with their thoughts and work. I was the only stranger and observer amongst them. Sitting there excited like a child. Engorged in the beauty and useless fantasies, like an artist.
The city was small, but seemed like it contained all the possible life styles in it.
Malyaj.
3rd Jan 2010

UNTITLED

As if she always remained hidden inside me,

The faded lights of her memories,

Have been shining like a pearl inside me

Had always been guiding me;

To the paths of innocence...

Her depths of silence and tolerance,

Like an abyss of eternal emptiness

Showed me the meaning of love and friendship

Knowing love, beyond merely an imagination,

Leaving them as futile words;

I dissolved the borders of love and trust

Knowing the motley of silence,

I touched the vastness of existence;

With her one gentle touch;

She drove me to my consciousness

Throwing me back to my innocence…

Malyaj!

Passport ki vyatha- Mere dost Nitish ki zubani.

Antateh passport k form ko bharke jama karne me main safal raha. Aakhir is form ko bharne me mera salo ka PMT aur GATE k form bharne ka tajurba hi kaam aaya. Shayad isi din k liye baba ranchhod-das [aka rancho] ne kaha tha kamyabi k pichhe mat bhag, excellence k pichhe bhago, success tumhe apne aap mil jayegi.

Khair counter k shaksh ne kaha k bhai ab verification k liye police wale aapke ghar aa jayenge aur passport ban jayega. Traffic signals ki mulakato ko agar chhod diya jaye to Bhartiya Police se ye meri pehli official meeting hogi, yehi soch mera intzar chalu hua.

Aur ek din ek vardidhari vruhad kaya, mere ghar k darwaje pe takriban 1 baje dastak deti hai.

Police: 'Nitesh hai, verification k liye aaye hai'

[Ji ha nitesh, janab mere janm ko 23 saal gujar chuke hai, parantu aaj tak pahli dafa me mera naam koi sahi nahi le pata hai. Log sochte hai k itna simple naam kaise ho sakta hai, kuchh log nitesh, kuch nitin to kuchh vyakaran aur hindi ki sari simao ki maa-bhen karte huye mujhe nikhil tak pukarte hai....]

Main: Ji main hi hu abhi aaya.

Meri Maa police ko dekh k atyant tanav me aa chuki thi, shayad Abu Salem ki maa bhi apne bete ko police se baat karte dekh itne tension me naa aayi hogi.

Maa: Kya ho gaya? Kyo aaya hai ye?

Main: Kuchh nahi passport verification k liye aaya hai.

Ab verification k naam pe do (2) padosiyo ke dastkhat liye jane the. Sala jab kaam nahi hota hai din me pachas padosi dikh jate hai, par aaj to jaise ramgad me gabar aaya tha, koso dur tak kisi bachchhe k rone ki aawaj tak nahi..Bahut nainsafi hai ye.

Main akkad bakkad karke ek padosi ko chunta hu aur darwaje khatkhata hu, do (2) sign karwata hu, sign hote hi meri gali me chahal pahal achanak se bad jati hai.

Sadiyo purani bhartiya parampara rahi hai k mehman jate waqt mejban ko unke ghar ka niyota deta hai aur kehte hai "aana". Police wale bhai sahab bhi mujhe unke station aane ki dawat de gaye 'sham ko 6 se 8 k bich aana'. [Sanskaro k sath samay ki pabandi bhi, kaun kehta hai mere desh ki suraksha sahi hatho me nahi hai]

Sham ko ek adad photo aur shapath patra [jisme maine hi likhwaya tha k bhai main chor nahi hu] liye main palasia police station me pravesh karta hu. Har sabere palasia se bus pakdte waqt iss station ko dekha karta tha, thik waise hi jaise dharti pe baitha insan chand aur taro ko dekhta hai, farq bas yehi tha k insan chand dekh us pe jane ki khwahish rkahta hai, apni aisi koi mansha nahi thi. Par dast aur honi ko kaun taal paya hai? Mujhe bhi jana hi pada.

Ek baat hai agar aap naa to police hai aur nahi chor, to police station me hona aapke liye ajib anubhav hai. Kabhi aap swayam ko salankho k pichhe to kabhi table k pichhe rakh k kalpana karte hai, jyada antar mahsus nahi hone pe aap vastvikta pe laut aate hai.

Mere alawa waha kai log the, jinme ek atyant sunder kanya bhi thi. Kisi bhi aam insan ki tarah maine bhi vardidhariyo ko dekhne ki jageh use hi dekhna uchit samjha.

Isi bich mera verification chalu ho jata hai, chand sawalo aur sabse mahtwapurn gandhiji ki do tasviro [100 wali] k sath mera verification pura ho jata hai. Wakai mere desh me gandhiji ko har mauke pe yaad kiya jata hai. Unke iss samman k sath mere passport verification k karykram ka samapan ho jata hai aur main ghar laut aata hu......