“The first bouquet of my life”
“A small piece of my writing; very special and close to my heart” I was looking for it in to my diary. Turning very few pages I came across a flower, a rusty one, looking carefully it seemed to be a rose. Now it was rusty black, dried colorless emotionless, I started thinking: It must have been a red one or may be a yellow; String of thought were appearing in my mind, flipping some more pages I got another one and then another. Now I remember clearly; those were once in a bouquet of flower. My mind furtively went in to memories to the “The first bouquet of my life”.
I was on my black Apache in the cold and dark night, on the roads of Mysor, my destination was
Finally I reached the
I reached the shop but stopped at once, thinking in head “What to ask for?” This was the first time I was at flower shop, this was my genuine thinking that flower bouquet or kind of shops are opened only for riches, and the thought was making me nervous. But as my old trick I started observing people the real customers of the flower boy: People in flashy clothes coming out of big cars, asking for big bouquet (which means a Doka of all leaves and flowers).
Doka: A basket made of bamboo sticks used to carry grass for cattle in Uttranchal.
Finally I decided to ask one for my self, the boy showed me many different ready made bouquets in different range. I didn’t like either of them. Because I wanted to make a special one and the one that could fit into my small bag too. I choose two white, two yellow, two red roses, so that it could be complete basket of purity, friendship, and love. And that cost me only seventy five rupees (If I knew it costs only 75 Rs to get one bouquet, I would have given to many people; But the silly prejudice!!!!!). It took him nearly 15 minutes to make my jumbo pack of love, togetherness and friendship. I put it into my tiny bag and flee to my destination, hotel “xyz…”
Hotel “xyz…something”; obviously I don’t remember the name. Who can man!! When your mind is totally lost in her thoughts and heart never comes down below 100 beats. But it is near by famous art gallery where I saw picture of “Almora” my schooling place by some artist. But what grabbed my eyeballs was Buddha on canvas with title “Buddha’s Temptation”. Buddha sitting in meditation pose surrounded by 4-5 women with real 36, 24, 36 figure, may be 38, 24, 38, some necked and some half necked tempting him , one was nearest him with a white transparent piece of clothe, her nipple touching his chest, abut to eat him having libido in her eyes.
Gosh!! How could Buddha control man!
What a great imagination by artist must have been inspired by Kamasutra.
I reached hotel by nearly
I got up early hurriedly picked by bike and reached to “Infosys Mysore”, where she was. I called her and asked to break out of the boundaries of Infosys, which was the only distance in between us. And here she comes: like a yellow feathered angle. She was looking drop dead gorgeous in that yellow dress. Not wasting time in complimenting her, with a simple hello I paved way to the pillion seat. I took her to the near by temple, middle of nowhere and woods all around, the most peaceful place on earth, however it looked me the most romantic place on earth too.
I gave her bouquet with all the wishes I remembered. She sprung on her tiny toes and kissed me on my right cheek with a thankful smile, I kissed her back on her forehead giving all the blessings. We sat on second step of temple and I opened my bag again to get her chocolate. I peeled the chocolate and offered her; she started nibbling the chocolate deliciously savoring it to deep. I was looking at her “her big beautifully calm eyes, her twice pierced ears, shining stones on them, her childlike excitement covered with serenity.”
I put my right arm around her for intimacy and to steal her form the world, but suddenly somebody rings the bell.
Oh hell man!! It is my alarm.
The dream was gone like a water bubble.
I woke up took bath, meantime the room service came asking me if I would like to have something. I ordered nothing but complained about TV not working, though I was least bothered about it. I brought a glassful of water and kept nearby door, as my mom says its “Shubh” (good omen), I am not superstitious but; you have to be a little in case of heart.
I put on all my gears, “Red tape shoes, Parx black trousers, Numero Uno white shirt, a jacket don’t remember the company but a costly one, 100$ watch gifted by brother, belt again gifted, frameless specks (its must, because it makes you look sophisticated and erudite), a mobile touch screen, (somebody tell J’Lo “Love cost a thing” not a, a lot many thing, seriously its not poor man’s sport). I was ready to go on the mission. I picked up bag, helmet and bike keys and stepped out starring glassful of water. (A good omen created by my own: I stare it as if saying “If anything goes wrong you will be responsible”).
As I started bike somebody splashed water to clean the floor, I reassured myself it being good sigh/omen while starting for any work. My bike was showing 80, 90 sometime 100 km per hour, and I reached the Infosys Mysore sooner than I expected. It was around
Very soon it started coming the convoy of the Infosys buses filled with girls, (who says that India has less number of girls, should come here and see, Infosys has collected beauty of India in one place, all angelic beauties, elated and delighted with I don’t know what but all awesomely gorgeous. Now I firmly believe that Infosys HR team is the best all over the world.)
I was looking for my angel, in the herd of all beauties. Seriously telling it is the most difficult task, especially for a shy guy like me; On the top of it all eyes were on me, all guards staring me eyes wide open as if saying “You bugger!! Don’t dare look at Infosys property.” And all girls glancing me as if saying “Pick me !! pick me!!” (This is my optimistic interpretation of the eye language shared with girls, being only boy well dressed there).
Bus by bus, girls by girls went into that black hole but I did not find her. (Who say that they can smell their girl form miles are biggest liars on earth, I tell you 90% of the girls use similar smelling perfumes or shampoos).
It was high time now. I had to make decision, (with nerve down) somehow get into the black hole or go back home. I said in head (I didn’t rode 300 km bike to go back home baby!!)
I collected the courage and went to a guard, and started in a bit sophisticated way “Excuse me!! I want to meet “ABCXYZ” (I can’t reveal her name here if you want to know call me 9916364183). Can you please let me in for some time?”
“Show me you ID card”, “tell me her hostel details” “her extension and mobile number” he started with all the sentences he had mugged up till date.
I stopped him saying “sir I don’t have all that but I have…..”
He interrupted and said “go to the Sab”
“Sab/Sahab” was a usual guard with idiotic arrogance of being superior there. I asked him “ Sir I have her details, her college details, her birth day, her mobile number (which doesn’t work), her joining date (I forget my joining date but clearly new hers, love makes your memory sharp but only for the girls data)…and I need to wish her birth day today!! Any how!!”
Making pity face, bagging for just 5 minutes visit didn’t work either. On the contrary he started screwing me back. Asking “Who are you? Where are you from? What is the relationship in between you and her? (Man! If you let me make, then only there can exist any relationship I said in head), and similar questions.
I answered few of and came back on track “Sir, Please let me in for only 5 minutes.” As I expected he did not allow me. Thank god bomb blast was not so common thing in Inida that time otherwise he would have scrutinized me and checked my bag too.
Now the futile struggle episode was over: I was stranded with a bag with “The first bouquet of my life” and no hope to barge through the wall and a starving stomach.
I went in search of food on my bike, found a Dhaba at the construction site near-by. I had stomach full of rice, sabji, dal , only in 10 Rupees.: This is real
After I had my rich lunch, I kicked my bike, with no destination in mind but working on a plan: How to break into that shell of Infosys. I took my bike off road in sandy road parked it somewhere, sat on a mound; I started watching every passers-by, starring sun, glaring horizon and studying every living being around, like ants insects, birds, human beings, and even buses, asking myself “What is their destination?” (First time I explored my potential to become a philosopher).
After sometime I picked up bike and went to get lost into woods. There I found the temple; the same temple which I saw in my dream, big, beautiful clean. I parked my bike, took off my shoes, went in and sat on the floor. I sat there for some time, mean time the priest came and gave me prasadam. I donated 10Rs in the charity box making sure he is seeing me, so that he shouldn’t have any problem if I take shelter there.
Looking around the place I found that Infosys boundary wall was not very far; but the wall seemed to be around 10 fit tall, on the top of it netted nailed wire was guarding it may be current on it too. (God! is it any corporate building or a jail).
I first tried meditation, it didn’t work: I wonder how you can be thoughtless. Then I started looking for a book I could go through to kill the time, but for my surprise all the books I could see in self were in Kannada (I could only read omega in that language), searching whole lot of books finally my eyes captured a book in English.
“Bhagavath Githa” (reaching south India Gita becomes Githa as here there is no “t” only “th” like sitha, githa, prashanth) by some swami xyznand which I don’t remember now: My only motto was to pass my time and negative emotions, so I picked the Githa and started turning pages: First time I saw Gita this thin so my instinct “read least and pass” motivated me to read it too.
Initially I was looking for the verses I knew like “Karmanewa dhikaraste, Yada yada hi dharmasya” but it was quite disappointing to know that the verses are somewhere in middle of the book. Till the day for me Githa was a book of poems but as I hooked into book I became more religious, more spiritual and more devoted. In fact when I read:
Shri Bhagavanowach:
“Parth, hato wa prapyasi swargam, jetwa wa bhogyasi mahim,
Tasmadutistha kontey, yudhaya krit nishchaya”
I herd in my head Lord
“Prakash, Caught o wa prapyasi jailam, got through wa prapyasi ABCXYZim,
tasmadutitha nandiy jump walam krit prayasam.’
After dipping deep into Gita I reached my favorite one:
KarmanyewaDhikarate Ma Falesu Kadachana,
Ma Karmfal heturbhu ma te sangotsa karmani”
“Doing is in your hand, not the result: So why you think of the domain which is not even in your right, you have no changing there, so if you want to change something, change the course of your action.”
Wow! What a great saying; I thought I have got “Gyan”, felt that it was the day fixed to elevate myself, what a great feeling being Godhead or near by it.
After I finished book, I kicked my bike, it was same as earlier so I confirmed myself being human being not godhead, and controlled my hand on accelerator to be on earth not to be literally lifted.
I reached hotel, a bit hungry with same bag but with “Gyan”. I had my dinner and reminded verse myself
“ Karmanyewa ….”
I picked up my mobile and called Infosys Mysor numbers, all I had collected form internet. From one to another extensions I reached very close to the Girl Hostel but the receptionist did not let me talk to her saying there are many girls by the same name: I felt like saying “You bloody! But all the girls would not be born today and celebrating birth day” but I concede. (I am sure had it been a boy he would have transferred the call but girls: they hit you when you are soft). By the time my mind had done all the permutation and combination and brought Arun’s name before my eyes. I call up Arun (intimate friend of mine) “Arun I want her working number, right now” , not talking much we hung up.
After an hour or so my cell started ringing again, it was Arun and he gave me two numbers, stating at least one should be working. (I still don’t now how he collected the numbers, how much trouble he took for it).
Finally with thumping heart around
She said “I don’t meet strangers!!”
(The sentence looks so simple here but that ripped my heart away bleeding into pieces)
At first I though of eating chocolates but seeing the price tag and heart conditions I couldn’t. Then I threw “The first bouquet of my life” into dustbin, and tried to catch some sleep. Later on I thought why to punish innocent flowers for somebody’s heartless rudeness. I picked them up gently put them into the same water glass, filled to make good luck sign in the morning, and went to sleep. They were alive when I put them into my bag to go back to
When I reached
I went in and put flower of “The first bouquet of my life” into my diary; tore of the beautiful packing of Mr. Ronan ketings collation and put it into my laptop and the fellow started singing “I'm no Superman But I'll love you the best I can” but my mind wasn’t there it went to the verse of Gita the words started flashing before my eyes.
“ye yatha ma prapadhante tastathev bhajamyaham,
mam vatmarnuvartante manushya parth sarvasha.”
“By whichever path the people reach me I welcome them because all path form every side which men take are mine”
I don’t know what is the destiny of a flower, or what purpose it serve but if the flower needs to be seen, touched, smelt, remembered, I gave them their destiny with unforgettable journey on the road and in the heart. “These flowers will be the testimony of “The first bouquet of my life” in my diary and my heart forever”.
PC Bhatt..
