Chapter 3

“Hi!” She entered Sachin’s modest cabin without any invitation or preamble. Sachin bit back an amused smile. He had been spared from attending interviews, thanks to his father and his passion for the old-age home. But he was sure that no one came for an interview dressed in casual three-fourths and t-shirt. She looked as if she had come there directly from her college.

She sat down on the opposite side of the table and handed a file to Sachin. He opened it and found a neatly arranged stack of papers showing her details and qualifications. She had been a scorer academically, he noted. A glance at her personal details showed her age to be 24. He could also make out that she came from a very well-to-do family. He checked her name again.

“So, Rhea… Your academic qualifications are very good. May I ask you why you wish to apply to work here?” He asked her in a curious tone.

“It feels satisfying to spend time with elders and care for them. I have always been social and love being around people. I think this is the best kind of job for me.” She said with a huge smile and Sachin found himself getting caught in her enthusiasm. This was how he wanted his staff to be.

“Okay. I don’t see any reason to reject your application.” He could swear she had tried to raise her fist but had restrained herself in the last minute. He bit back another amused smile.

“I will give you your profile and the list of responsibilities. But the main thing to remember is, the people here are aged. Please take good care of them with your words and actions too.” He said in a gentle yet firm tone and she nodded her head resolutely.

“I understand. You won’t find anything to complain about me, I assure you.”

“That’s great. Now your duties…” He stopped mid-sentence when she handed him a diary sheepishly.

“I am sorry. I have been waiting here since an hour and had the time to observe everyone and everything. These are the things that I would like to do. I hope you approve them.”

Sachin had to remind himself to close his mouth. Clearing his throat, he glanced at the diary and found neatly-written notes. She had mostly written about birthday celebrations, arranging for family day so that people who still had families could meet them at the old-age home and many other innovative ideas. He didn’t want to admit it but he was impressed.

“This is good. I don’t see why all these can’t be done here. Go ahead.” He said to her while handing over her diary.

“I knew you would approve.” She said with a bright smile and he chuckled.

“All right. When do you want to start?” He asked her and shook his head when she showed him another page of the diary.

“There are three birthdays in the coming week. I would like to contact their family members and call them here. I will arrange for the birthday celebration.” She said in an enthusiastic tone and he looked at her in wonder.

“How did you get the birthdays?”

“As I said, I have been waiting here since an hour and I took time to talk to the elders who were sitting outside at the park. I wrote down their names and birthdays, just in case, you know…” She said, trying to control her laughter.

“And if I had rejected you?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I would still have come on their birthdays and wished them.” She said simply and his stance somewhat softened. For all her over-enthusiasm and confidence, she seemed to be a good person with her heart at the right place.

“All right then. You can start working now if you want. If you are hungry, you can approach…”

“Kamal Aunty! She makes the best pulav in the world!” Rhea said and he again looked at her in wonder.

“When did you…?”

He shook his head and laughed out when she said.  “I was waiting at the reception and a really delicious smell was wafting through the kitchen at the corner. When Kamal Aunty came out to call everyone for lunch, I spoke to her for few minutes and she invited me too.”

It was clear. Rhea had arrived like a tornado in the old-age home. He looked forward to working with 

her.

As she left his cabin, he sat back with a satisfied sigh. He opened his drawer and took out Baba’s book. He started reading eagerly.

The Times Of My Life

2

About our families – well, there couldn’t be more different set of two families than ours. While our home rang with the notes of loud laughter, television shows and the din of utensils from the kitchen accompanied with continous chatter of human voices, eternal silence reigned in Vishnu’s home. At times, we could hear the news in tv in a low volume which would indicate that Vishnu’s father was at home.

I lived in a large family, my parents, my two uncles (younger brothers of my dad) and their wives and my grandfather. I enjoyed being the only kid in the house. My dad and his two brothers operated three stationery shops side-by-side. The ladies looked after the household chores while my grandfather spent the whole day either talking to his friends from the chawl or watching television. The ladies talked a lot, the men laughed a lot and made us laugh too with their delightful stories from the shop. Needless to say, my grandfather laughed the loudest, with his booming voice.

There were sounds from Vishnu’s house too – sounds of Vishnu arguing in a quivering yet loud voice and his father screaming at him. Sometimes we would hear a slap and the heartbreaking sound of Vishnu’s pathetic sobs. His father was a strict disciplinarian; we could infer this from the sounds coming from his house every day. We could never find out the reason for the daily arguments and subsequent beating sessions that Vishnu got. But it always irked my grandfather who would shake his head resolutely and say, ‘Someone should hit the man on his head sharply! Beating a young child so mercilessly! Someday, I will.. Surely, I will!’ My father and uncles would pacify him saying that it was not good to get involved in another family’s affairs. But they did feel badly for Vishnu and kept telling me to be good to him and to support him. My mother and my aunts would prepare special dishes with extra helping for Vishnu. “Give it to him during lunch break, okay.” They would whisper to me, stroking my hair lovingly. Raised in such a loving environment, I could never understand the behavior of Vishnu’s parents.

While his father was strict and menacing, his mother was – for want of a better word – dull and lifeless. We could never hear her speak a single word in defense of her child. Vishnu would tell me sometimes that his mother was scared of his father and that’s why she just obeyed him plainly without complaining. All I could understand was that, Vishnu wasn’t growing up in a happy place.

That night, there was a knock on the door. When my dad opened it, he saw Vishnu standing outside.

“Uncle, can I – can I meet Bhavesh?” Vishnu asked in a low voice. His face was tear-stained and he was clutching at his arm which was still swollen.

“Come in, Beta!” My dad gently ushered him inside and closed the door. As there were only two rooms and a kitchen in our home, he didn’t have to call me out as I came to the room from the kitchen.

I looked at his swollen arm. “Did you go to the doctor?”

“My dad refused. Says it will teach me to not to get involved in any fights.” Vishnu said tearfully.

“Bhavya, what happened exactly?” My dad came and sat beside Vishnu, checking the swelling on his arm gently.

I narrated the whole incident and I saw my uncle chuckle in amusement. My dad ruffled Vishnu’s hair. “Come son, I will take you to the doctor.”

Doctor Mama’s clinic was just two lanes ahead and it took only fifteen minutes for my dad and Vishnu to return to our home. The doctor had given some pain-relieving oil to be smeared on the swelling.

My younger aunt carefully applied the oil on the swelling. “There.. Now it won’t pain in the night.” She said with a smile and left the room. Vishnu sat on the sofa beside me and looked around. After what felt like few minutes, he turned to my dad and said. “Thanks Uncle, for taking me to the doctor. I will take the money from my mother tomorrow and repay you.” He finished uncertainly.

Everyone in the room laughed out. “That’s not required son. You just take care of your arm okay.” My dad said with an amused smile.

“Okay, then I should leave now.” Vishnu got up, a sad expression on his face. He walked till the door and halted for few seconds. Slowly turning back, he looked at my dad and asked him in a low voice. “Can I – Can I sleep in your home tonight, uncle? This feels like a happy place.”

For some time nobody spoke. My grandfather got up from his seat and walked towards Vishnu. Holding his other hand, he took him back to the room and said. “You, me and Bhavya will sleep in the hall and have a grand time. I have many jokes to tell you.” As Vishnu’s face broke into a genuine smile, the first that I had ever seen, my dad gulped visibly and patted his head softly.

That was the first of the numerous sleep-overs that we would have in my home.

Chapter 2

Sachin opened the door of his house and switched on the light. The familiar feelings of loneliness and sadness struck him as usual. He missed his parents. Gone too soon, guys, he thought with regret, looking at their photo that he had framed and kept on the showcase of his living room. Every time he entered his house, he first looked at the photo. It had become a habit now.

He had learnt to cook years ago when his mother died. He remembered fondly, the times when he and his dad would cook in the kitchen and laugh at every disaster of a meal. Over the course of time, Sachin had perfected his cooking and none of them realized when he took over the kitchen to prepare their meals.

Tonight he cooked a simple meal of Roti and Sabji. Once the dinner was made (which took no time now-a-days), he cleaned the kitchen and took his meal to the dining table that seemed too large now. As usual, his thoughts strayed to the old-age home while he was eating. He was really happy about the donations received. There were many changes to be made. He had received some applications for assistants for the home but had kept them pending. He decided to go through them the next day and call them for interview.

An hour later he was sitting on his bed with the book that Baba had given him. He ran a hand over it reverentially. He couldn’t believe that Baba had written it all by himself.

No one could pinpoint when and how Bhavesh Patel became Baba to him. Sachin could never understand why he felt so close to the aged man. May be because he had been a good friend to his dad, may be because he was there at the time of his father’s death or may be, because he was the first and the only person on whose shoulder Sachin had cried his heart out after his father died… The bond between them had strengthened with the passage of time and he made sure to visit him every day, however busy his schedule might be.

Sachin opened the book and thought about a suitable name for it. Since it was the story of Baba, he decided to title it as ‘The Times Of My Life.’ He hadn’t informed Baba but he was thinking about publishing it.

With an eager smile he began reading it.

The Times Of My Life

1

I, like most people, have only a handful of details about my birth. But two things I remember vividly as informed by my mother. Firstly, that it rained on that day, even though it was the end of winter and the beginning of summer. Secondly, Vishnu was born on the same day, same time and same hospital as me. Our families were immediate neighbours staying in a chawl. That’s how my story begins, and thus, Vishnu’s story begins too. We were destined to connect right from our birth.

Staying in a chawl teaches you many things. Firstly, it makes you totally un-hesitant and unashamed about the lack of privacy. Only a thin wall separated every house and every neighbour could make out the menu for the day at the others’ house. A chawl also leads to life-long friendships that stand all the tests of time – such as fighting over water, fighting over the common bathroom and toilet and helping each other without being asked or informed about the trouble. Everyone knew everything that happened in every house. It was like a giant family stayed in separate rooms in one big building.

It is difficult for me to pinpoint the exact moment when Vishnu and I became friends. We knew that we shared the same birthday which was never celebrated. We also played together, though with a large group of friends. We went to the same government school at the end of our lane.  But there is one instance that probably brought us closer to each other. It happened when we were ten years old each.

Vishnu is a South-Indian, (lovingly known as The Madrasi) and used to dress up in the same way too. Hair oiled back in his head, loose pant and a loose shirt tucked inside and the Vibhuti that he used to apply on his forehead. He would have an irritatingly confident expression on his face, as if he knew everything. That expression, coupled with his lean and tall frame, made him an easy target for bullying.

Vishnu would always grumble about everything – the school, the sports, the second-hand books that we used to get, the teachers who took lot of leave, the trouble-making boys in the class, etc. The problem was, he was too vocal about the last complaint. He did not bother to hide his dislike for those boys and often complained to teachers about them in their presence. This did not go down well with the guys.

That day we both were returning from school, our bags dangling from our heads. It was a hot afternoon and tempers were already high due to the excessive heat and sweating. Vishnu was in a sour mood, not speaking much and just walking with a nasty expression on his face. To complete the dismal picture, the trouble-makers were walking behind us, calling us names indirectly and making fun of Vishnu (not so indirectly). I tried to ignore them but I could hear Vishnu’s loud breathing which only meant that he was irked terribly. “Ignore them, don’t pick up a fight now. Only ten more minutes and we would reach our lane while they have to walk further. We will get rid of them then. Please don’t fight with them.” I kept muttering but it didn’t seem to have any effect on Vishnu. It probably riled him up even more.

When the chants of ‘Eh Madraasi, Oh Madraasi’ continued for more than few minutes, Vishnu lost it totally. Frankly, even I was irritated. Vishnu stopped and turned around. I stood beside him protectively but was fast losing courage. They were a burly group, the guys, all hefty and well-built. There were four of them while we were two pathetic lean and angry guys. Safe to say that we never stood a chance...

“Stop troubling me, or else, I will complain to the principal tomorrow!” To my utter disbelief, Vishnu said this in a calm yet firm tone that failed to conceal his anger and irritation. Is that all, my mind thought in despair as I took in the lean Vishnu standing with his arms on his hips and threatening the hefty gang who looked as stupefied as myself. Then the gang burst out laughing.

“Oh, the Madraasi is threatening us! He is angry! I am so scared, I am shivering with fright! Somebody please help me!” Raghu, the leader of the group, said in a mocking tone as the rest of the guys laughed.

“I mean it! Stop it right now!” Vishnu used his most terrifying tone to say this but it still came out as a squeak in the end. It made the guys laugh harder.

“You are soooo angry! What if I do this?” Raghu said, coming closer and holding Vishnu’s wrist tightly. He then twisted that arm in an awkward angle making Vishnu shout out loud with pain. I could not bear to see him writhing in pain. I started looking here and there, trying to find something that could be used to stop Raghu. As I moved from one side to another, I felt my writing pad poke me in the back from my bag. Out of sheer desperation, I took out the pad from my bag and hit Raghu with all my might.  

I can’t say that it hurt Raghu, but it definitely stunned him enough to release Vishnu who, by this time, was shedding tears out of pain. Before the guys could react, I dragged Vishnu by his other arm and we both ran as fast as we could. For few seconds, I was really scared that the guys might follow us, but thankfully, they didn’t.

We slowed down while approaching our chawl. Vishnu was now sniffing in a very subdued manner. His arm was red where Raghu had held tightly and I could make out the beginning of a swelling.

“Wash it with warm water okay. If it doesn’t get better till evening, then please go to Doctor Mama. He is good, he gave me a biscuit that day when I went to get treated for fever.” I said to him.

Vishnu didn’t respond immediately. There was a pensive look on his face and he had clenched his jaw tightly.

“Is it paining a lot?” I asked him.

Vishnu let out a sigh and shook his head. “Nothing unbearable. I am more worried about my father’s reaction.”

I nodded in silence because I understood and knew. “It will be okay. Come to my home if things go out of hand, okay? My father will be happy to take you to the doctor. He is good. Doesn’t shout much, doesn’t check about my studies or homework. Laughs a lot and makes everyone laughs too. He’s good, I think.”

Vishnu nodded solemnly and we walked up the steps to our home.

Sachin wanted to keep reading but had started yawning uncontrollably now. Keeping the book on the table beside his bed, he sprawled over and promptly closed his eyes. He smiled in his sleep as the image of two lean boys against a bunch of hefty guys came into his mind. With that picture in his mind he fell fast asleep.

Chapter 1

Summer was approaching. There was a slight change in the air - a tinge of warmth and the sunlight brighter by few degrees. Bhavesh did not feel the need for his shawl now. He sat on his favourite bench and soaked in the precious warmth that only a departing winter and an arriving summer could bring. How many more summers would I see! He wondered without any worry, for he had no regrets at this stage of his life. He had seen several seasons in the eight decades that he had lived till now. He had weathered many storms, laughed and cried and had memories worth a lifetime. He smiled. Life has been really good.

"Baba!" Bhavesh turned at the now-familiar and endearing voice and saw Sachin walk towards him with a swagger and a smile on his face. Handsome rascal, he thought with amusement. As usual, he felt the same pang that he felt every time while seeing Sachin. How I wish you were my son! He wondered whether this feeling would ever go away. In a short period of time, Sachin had come to mean a lot to him.

"I knew I would find you here. Such a big place, and yet this seems to be your favourite corner." Sachin said with a smile as he sat down on the bench. Bhavesh acknowledged him with a nod and turned to look around the place - the old-age home, his home since almost ten years. It had been founded by Sachin's father, who, unfortunately, had passed away about five years ago. After his death, Sachin had taken over, running the old-age home with vigorous zeal and enthusiasm. He met prospective donors, impressed them with his skill and knowledge and ensured that the flow of money never stopped. Under his supervision, the old-age home was functioning really well. He personally visited every resident, took care of his/her comfort and treated them as his own.

"I can see the park from here. It is good to see and hear the children playing. I love watching them laugh and play." Bhavesh said gently.

A comfortable silence followed, neither of them feeling the need to talk. Sachin casually laid his hands on either side of his head and leaned back on the bench, looking very relaxed. He hummed an unrecognizable tone softly.

"You are happy today." Bhavesh said.

"It has been a good day. Some really nice donations came in through. I can now arrange for additional staff and also look after the renovation of the gate." He added mischievously, "Don't worry, I will keep this part open, so that you can view the park." Bhavesh smiled and patted the young man's head. He cleared his throat, nervous about what he was about to say.

"The book that I was writing – I am almost done."

Sachin immediately straightened up, his face alight with excitement. "That's great news! Can I read it?"

Bhavesh laughed at his enthusiasm and excitement. To be so young, and so enthusiastic about life! He wondered sadly. Not that he had regrets. But sometimes he missed the feeling of being happy or excited. Always being contented was starting to feel really boring.

He turned to his left and took a parcel from the bench. He handed it over to Sachin, feeling as if he were parting from a friend of many years.

"You wrote it entirely!" Sachin said in awe as he took out the book and saw the contents. The book was looking really well-worn and delicate. He was scared to touch it.

"I have written almost everything. But I need your help in ending it. I don't know how to end the book. Can you read and suggest an ending for it?"

"Of course, I will read it! Just give me few days' time and I will get back to you with the ending."

The whole of my life can be really summed up in a few days' time. It comes to this, in the end. Only memories remain forever. The times of life pass by in a flash. Bhavesh thought sadly.

"Suggest a good ending. A happy ending, okay?"

Another silence followed while Sachin carefully turned the pages of the book and Bhavesh sat in deep thought. What if Vishnu ever reads this? Would he feel bad about what I have written? Would it still matter after such a long time? These questions had been haunting him ever since he decided to write the book. He had thrown caution to the winds and proceeded ahead at that time but now the doubts plagued him. Whatever is done, is done. It's highly impossible that Vishnu would read the book. Hopefully.