How to Vote – Election Day – A Story

Election Days are here again. 

And – I remembered this story…

ELECTION DAY IN GIRINAGAR 
Fiction Short Story

A Spoof By Vikram Karve 

ELECTION DAY IN GIRINAGAR – A Spoof By Vikram Karve

This happened many years ago when I lived at a place called Girinagar near Pune.

“I want the day off,” Sushila, our maid, asked my wife.

“Why?” my wife asked.

“We have to vote. Today is election day,” she said.

“That’s good,” I said.

I was quite surprised at Sushila’s eagerness to vote – because Sushila was totally illiterate.

Yes – she lived just a few kilometres away from a modern city like Pune (often called the “Oxford of the East”) – yet – like so many others – she could not read or write.

But her keenness to vote indicated what a vibrant democracy we were.

“Who are you going to vote for?” I asked, in jest.

She told me a symbol – “I am going to vote for XXX symbol,” Sushila said.

“But why?” I asked.

“WE have decided,” she said.

“WE” meant her husband.

Apparently – her husband had gone for a “meeting” – and it was decided that the entire neighbourhood will vote for XXX symbol.

“So you vote for XXX symbol every time,” I asked her.

“No – last time we all voted for YYY symbol,” she said.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because “WE” had decided,” she said.

Of course – she did not know anything about the ideology of the  political parties to which the symbols XXX and YYY belonged.

It was none of her business.

Before every election – it was the men who had a meeting – and it was decided who to vote for in the election – and – the women dutifully complied.

(Of course – the men had a “leader” who guided them in these matters)

Like Sushila’s husband – most of the men in that area were drunkards who lived off their wives’ earnings.

But all that did not matter.

In the patriarchal society that prevailed, the women dutifully obeyed their men, even if the men were good-for-nothing drunkards.

So – in Sushila’s family of 7 voters (she, her husband, her two sons and two daughters-in-law, and unmarried daughter) – they all would be voting for the symbol XXX which had been “decided”.

Added up – it was quite a large number of votes in the locality – and since they all of them voted en-bloc for a certain “symbol” – it was quite a sizeable “votebank”.

A few more such solid “vote-banks” could ensure victory in the election – as the victory of the XXX candidate proved.

Around 3 PM in the afternoon we saw Sushila standing near our gate.

“Have you voted?” I asked her.

“No,” she said.

“Voting time will be over soon. Why didn’t you vote in the morning?” I said.

“They haven’t come to take us for voting,” she said.

“They haven’t come to take you for voting? What do you mean?” I asked.

A friend of mine who had come over and was hearing the conversation said to me:

“Don’t you know? Someone has to come and take them to the polling booth in a vehicle. And then – they have to be given some inducement to vote – here the ‘incentive’ is mostly a bottle of liquor for the men – these guys and their families will vote only after the men are given a bottle of liquor.”

After some time – I saw a van arrive near our gate.

The van had come to take all them for voting.

And so – they all went to cast their votes in the election.

EPILOGUE

In the evening we saw Sushila’s husband and her sons lurching in a drunken manner on the road.

We observed that most of the men were drunk that evening – after consuming the liquor being distributed freely on election day – as an incentive for them to vote.

It was obvious that liquor was flowing freely on election day

(though strictly speaking – election day was a “dry day”)

At night – when Sushila came to work – we saw tears in her eyes.

She said that her husband and her sons were drunk – after drinking all the free liquor distributed on election day.

Sushila’s husband had thrashed her – he bashed her up – as he always did when he was drunk.

And now – one of her drunk sons had beaten up his young wife too.

“See what you did…?” my wife said to Sushila, “you voted for the person who gave liquor to your husband and sons – and what did you get in return – your husband got drunk and he beat you up – and – your drunk son beat up his wife – in fact – most of you women must have voted for those who are causing you more harm than good.”

What an irony…!!!

Why did Sushila vote for someone who caused her more harm than good…?

Yes – why do people vote for someone who causes them more harm than good…?

That is the “moot question” of democracy.

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:

1. This story is a fictional spoof, satire, pure fiction, just for fun and humor, no offence is meant to anyone, so take it with a pinch of salt and have a laugh.
2. All stories in this blog are a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the stories are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (All Rights Reserved)

© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Link to my source blog post in my Blog Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve: http://karvediat.blogspot.com/2019/03/election-humor-election-day-in-girinagar.html

Extract from my ArticleWOMEN’S VOTEBANK – A Distant Dream?  first Posted Online by me Vikram Karve in this blog on Dec 1, 2013, at 12/01/2013 07:03:00 PM at url: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2013/12/womens-votebank-distant-dream.html and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2014/10/humor-in-democracy-election-day-in.html and  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2016/05/girinagar-memories-election-day.html and http://karvediat.blogspot.com/2018/05/election-day-in-girinagar-humor-in.html and   http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2017/02/humor-in-democracy-election-day-in.html

What is the aim of an officer…?

During our Training Days – many senior officers were invited to give us talks on “Officer Like Qualities” (OLQ) – and to give us tips on how to “succeed” in our Naval Careers.

Some officers gave us inspirational “pep talks”.

Others pontificated – giving us sermons on “Do’s and Don’ts”.

And – some tried to motivate us with “moral lectures”.

But there was one unique officer who was different.

He said: 

“The aim of an officer is to get promoted at any cost…” 

Read on…

WHAT IS THE AIM OF AN OFFICER…?

Military Wisdom – The Most Important OLQ (Officer Like Quality)

A Spoof By Vikram Karve 

WHAT IS THE AIM OF AN OFFICER…?

During our training days – many senior officers were invited to give us talks on “Officer Like Qualities” (OLQ) – and to give us tips on how to succeed in our Naval Careers.

Some officers gave us inspirational “pep talks” – some pontificated – giving us sermons on “Do’s and Don’ts” – and some tried to motivate us with “moral lectures”.

But there was one unique officer who was different.

He said:

“The aim of an officer is to get promoted at any cost…”

We were taken aback.

Seeing the expression in our faces – the Senior Officer reiterated:

“Yes, gentlemen – you heard me right. 

Your primary aim is to get promoted. 

All other things are secondary. 

In the military – only one thing matters – the rank you wear on your shoulders. 

That is all that matters. 

Nothing else matters. 

Just remember that. 

So – wherever you are – analyze the situation – especially study your boss – your IO – the Officer who will be writing your Annual Confidential Report (ACR) – and you must work towards getting a good ACR. 

In the military – promotion depends on your ACRs – all that matters is your ACRs – so you must ensure that you get the best ACRs.

In order to get good ACRs – you will have to be flexible and smart – you must adapt yourself – depending on the likes and dislikes of your boss – since different senior officers have different yardsticks. 

Some bosses value professional performance – others value personal loyalty – and others – well – it is very subjective – and varies from person to person. 

In every appointment – be alert – do your homework well – be smart – and ensure that you are in sync with your boss – and make sure you get outstanding ACRs at any cost. 

Yes – you must make sure you get outstanding ACRs at any cost. 

If you do this – you will succeed in getting promotions – and you will reach high rank…”

At that point of time – we were young naïve “idealistic” officers.

We believed in romantic virtues like “moral values” and “ethical principles”.

We were inspired by patriotic fervour.

We genuinely believed in the “military ethos” enshrined in the “Chetwode Credo”:

“The safety, honour and welfare of your country comes first, always and every time.

The honour, welfare and comfort of the men you command comes next.

Your own ease, comfort and safety comes last, always and every time…”

We were inspired by jingoistic slogans like:

“Service before Self” 

That is why – we were appalled when we heard this senior officer telling us:

“The cardinal aim of an officer is to get promoted at any cost…”

He was advising us that – in order to achieve this prime objective – we must ensure sure that we get outstanding ACRs at any cost.

It was ironic.

This senior officer was an alumnus of the celebrated inter-service military training institution whose motto was:

“Service before Self…”

Despite this – he was propagating the exact opposite – and exhorting us to put:

“Self before Service…”

His “Self before Service” dictum seemed to be the exact opposite of what we believed in at that point of time.

That is why we were shocked and disappointed with this officer’s lecture.

This officer was propounding exactly the opposite of the values we cherished.

At first – we thought that this officer was joking – maybe he was employing a rather sarcastic sense of humor just to entertain us.

But later – we realized that this officer “walked his talk”.

He was not a hypocrite – he practiced what he preached – and he preached what he practised.

By “managing” his career astutely – by focusing on getting the best ACRs – by doing the right courses and appointments – by being in the right place at the right time under the right boss – by deploying all his resources – professional, personal, familial – towards realizing his prime objective of getting promoted – he had succeeded in attaining the highest possible rank and the most prestigious appointment in his branch.

As I said – at that point of time – after hearing his “pep talk” lecture on OLQ – I was quite skeptical.

I realized the true wisdom of his words 20 years later – when I witnessed an incident which convinced me – albeit too late in life – that – in the Armed Forces – “The primary aim of an officer is to get promoted at any cost”.

This defining incident – and many other similar experiences throughout my long Navy career – convinced me that – in the Military – it was only your Rank that mattered.

In fact – even after retirement – this obsession with rank continues – for various retirement facilities like ECHS Healthcare, CSD Canteens etc.

Witness the long “battle” being waged by retired military veterans for OROP (One Rank One Pension).

Even after retirement – for military veterans – “Rank” is the cardinal factor – since it is your rank that will determine your pension – unlike civilians – whose pension is primarily determined by years of service – which seems more just and fair.

In the term “OROP” – “One Rank One Pension” – the most prominent word is RANK.

Why not “Same Service Same Pension”…?

Why the emphasis on “Rank”…?

Tell me – why should a Brigadier who retires after 25 years service get more pension that a Colonel who retires after 30 years service…?

If you ask this question to any military “fauji” – serving or retired – he will give you the quintessential military rhetoric: “Rank Has Its Privileges”.

RANK HAS ITS PRIVILEGES (RHIP)

The Military (Army, Navy and Air Force) recognizes Rank – and is blind to everything else – including logic, reasoning or rationale.

By definition – the “superior” officer is the one who holds higher rank (and not higher intellect or qualifications).

Whenever there is a disagreement – professional, managerial, ethical, or otherwise – the views of the higher ranking officer always prevail.

If there is an issue between two officers – the senior is always right.

If there is a perk or privilege to be given – the senior gets it first.

The Navy is a uniformed service – like the Army and Air Force.

A unique feature of uniformed services is that your rank is visible to all – since you wear your rank badges or stripes on your shoulder.

This is not so in the civilian world where your “rank” is known only to your workplace colleagues.

In the military – Rank has its Privileges (RHIP) in all aspects of life – professional, social and personal.

In fact – if you are in the military – your rank is the “be-all and end-all” of life – from “womb” to “tomb”.

Like I said – thanks to OROP – even your pension depends on your rank – and not on your total years of service, as in the case of civilians, who get equitable pension due to ACP, NFU, NFFU etc.

And while in service – there is visible and blatant “rank based discrimination” in all aspects of life – professional, personal, social and familial.

This RHIP concept is sometimes taken to ridiculous limits – and even CSD Liquor Quota depends on rank – the higher your rank – the more booze you get.

Yes – your rank is the “be-all and end-all” of life in the defence services.

That is why – as the shrewd senior officer said in his pep-talk:

“The primary aim of an officer is to get promoted to high rank at any cost…”

Dear Reader – You don’t agree…?

Let me tell you a story…

AN UNFORGETTABLE INCIDENT – STIGMA OF SUPERSESSION

Now – as an illustrative example of RHIP – let me tell you about an unforgettable incident which happened around 18 years ago.

One evening – after returning from work – I walked to the reception counter of our Navy Command Officers Mess to collect my cabin key.

I was delighted to see “B” sitting in waiting lounge.

“B” was around 2 years senior to me.

I knew “B” since our training days – and I had the highest respect and regard for him.

“B” was truly a first-rate officer in all aspects – he was professionally competent, morally upright – and he had the best “Officer Like Qualities” (OLQ).

As young Lieutenants – in the late 1970’s – “B” and I – we had served in sister ships of the Frigate Squadron in the Fleet.

Whenever I needed help or advice – I knew that I could always turn to “B” – who was always ready to help any of his fellow officers.

After that – we went our different ways – transferred all over – depending on where our respective appointments took us.

As they say – the Navy is a place of transient acquaintanceship – where friendships are like passing ships.

And now – after a gap of more than 20 years – I was meeting “B” again.

Sadly – despite being an excellent officer – “B” had been “passed over” for promotion – so – in Naval parlance – “B” was a “superseded” officer.

“B” had come on Temporary Duty for an official “conference”.

“B” was waiting – as there was some problem in allocation of a cabin for him.

He told me that another officer “A” (who had come with him from Vizag) – he was trying to sort out the issue.

“A” was around 5 years junior to “B”.

In fact “A” had been a student of “B” during specialization courses where “B” had been A’s instructor.

Later – “A” had worked under “B” both ashore and afloat – where “B” has been A’s direct boss.

“A” had the highest respect for “B” who had taught him – and also been an excellent boss – who had guided him in the early days of his Naval Career.

Now – the tables were turned – and “A” outranked “B” – since “A” had been recently promoted to the rank of Captain – whereas “B” remained a Commander – having been permanently superseded.

Now – since everything is “rank based” in the Navy – the “powers-that-be” had decreed that “Captains and above” were to be given Air-conditioned Cabins in the main block of the Mess – whereas – “Commanders and below” were to be accommodated in the shabby cabins in the Annexe.

Captain “A” tried his best to convince the Mess Secretary to allot an AC Cabin in the Main Block to Commander “B”. 

“A” told the Mess Secretary that“B” was much senior in service.

“A” even volunteered to swap cabins with “B”

But – the Mess Secretary would not budge.

The Mess Secretary said to “A”:

“Rules are rules. 

As far as I am concerned – “B” is just a Commander – and he will be allotted a cabin in the Annexe.

It is not my fault that “B” got passed over for promotion. 

In any case – why have you brought a superseded “written off” officer for this important conference…?”

“B” was commissioned 5 years before “A” 

“B” had been the direct boss of “A” many years earlier.

Despite this – “A” enjoyed the cool comforts of a luxury air-conditioned cabin – whereas “B” sweated it out in a dilapidated cabin.

And – to add insult to injury – “B” was doubled up with another officer.

“B” had been specifically called to the conference because he was an expert on the issue being discussed.

But – I noticed that “B” was so demoralised that he had “switched-off” – he maintained an indifferent silence and did not contribute anything to the discussions.

It was evident that supersession had affected “B” very badly and his personality had been transformed.

Like many passed over “written off” officers – “B” had lost his “spark”.

He had withdrawn into a shell and become disinterested in the service.

It was sad to see an excellent officer like “B” wither away into the wilderness.

But – it was even sadder – that the Navy could not benefit from B’s expertise and experiential knowledge – which were being wasted away.

In the Defence Services:

Supersession is a “lose-lose” situation.

Besides career and financial loss – supersession is total “loss of face” for the superseded officer – and at times – for his family too.

In contrast – promotion is a “win-win” situation – since rank is the “be-all and end-all” of military life.

RANK – THE “BE-ALL AND END-ALL” OF MILITARY LIFE

The large number of representations, complaints, court cases and litigation pertaining to promotion issues bears testimony to the fact that something is immensely wrong with the military promotion system prevalent in the defence services.

I heard from someone – that the “integrated running pay scale” granted by the 4^th Pay Commission, which delinked pay from rank – this “integrated running pay scale” was scuttled by senior officers – who did not want superseded officers who had more service to draw more pay than them.

The result was that more than 90% of the officers lost out when the 5^th Pay Commission scrapped the “running pay band” and once again linked salary to rank.

Someone told me an interesting story of the height of megalomania and egotism due to rank consciousness.

A few years ago – the government implemented Assured Career Progression (ACP) and Non-Functional Upgradation (NFU) for all Civilian Government Employees.

The person told me that government wanted to extend the benefit of Non-Functional Upgradation (NFU) to the Defence Services – and – like the Civil Services – NFU would have guaranteed time bound upgradation of pay of all officers (including superseded officers) – so that – towards the end of their service – at the time of superannuation – all officers would draw the pay of a Lieutenant General (and consequently their pensions would be higher too – like their civilian counterparts).

I heard that this NFU proposal was opposed and scuttled by senior officers who argued that NFU was not desirable – since the “charm” of higher ranks would be diminished – if there was no substantial salary differential.

After all – these overweening careerists felt that they had “earned” their ranks by “all round 360 degree efforts” – and they considered themselves superior to their unlucky comrades in arms – who had been “passed over” for promotion.

Of course – those who have served in the defence services are aware of the various tactics and stratagems employed by careerist officers to get promoted to high rank.

A witty Naval Officer gave a metaphorical example of a Mumbai suburban local train at rush hour on a busy crowded station like Dadar.

Those persons standing on the platform desperately wanted to get inside the train.

But once inside the train – they tried to prevent others from entering the train.

It is the same with these overweening careerists – they are desperate to get promoted – but once they are promoted to high rank – they don’t want their juniors to “get in”.

Here is an example.

In 2004 – as per AVS Cadre Review – all Lieutenant Colonel/Equivalents who had completed 26 years service were to be promoted to the rank of Colonel/Equivalent.

The Army and Air Force promoted all officers who had completed 26 years service (including Time Scale Lieutenant Colonel/Wing Commander) to the rank of Colonel/Group Captain.

However – the Navy did not promote Time Scale Commanders who had completed 26 years service to the rank of Captain giving the specious argument that this would “upset” inter-se seniority.

One wonders why the same argument was not used by the Army and Air Force…?

Whereas, in the civilian world, organizations are becoming flatter and democratic – the opposite is happening in the Indian Armed Forces – which are becoming increasingly feudal and hierarchy conscious – and – rank based discrimination is being taken to ridiculous limits – and megalomania and egotism due to rank consciousness is on the rise – which is visible in examples like the penchant for displaying “stars” at all sorts of places.

This obsession with rank continues even after retirement.

A few years ago – after having sabotaged NFU – senior officers wanted “One Rank One Pension” (OROP).

So – now – they even wanted pension to be primarily dependent on rank – and pension not based on length of service – like it is for civilian employees.

In the term OROP – “One Rank One Pension” – the most prominent word is RANK.

Why not “Same Service Same Pension”…?

Why the total emphasis only on “Rank”…?

CONCLUSION

In the Defence Services – whereas on the one hand – supersession is a total “lose-lose” situation – on the other hand – promotion is a total “win-win” situation.

Do you remember the story of the “pep talk” at the beginning of this blog post…?

Doesn’t this convince you that the advice given to us by that pragmatic officer was absolutely correct…?

“The primary aim of an officer is to get promoted to high rank at any cost…” 

All other “dictums” and “Honour Codes” like “Chetwode Credo” and “mottos” like “Service Before Self” etc – these are mere slogans meant for lip-service.

As I told you – this wise officer was not a hypocrite – he “walked his talk” – unlike many other senior officers – who mouth platitudes about “military ethos and service values” before their juniors – but do exactly the opposite in their actions – in order to achieve their overweening career ambitions. 

This astute officer had encapsulated OLQ in a nutshell:

“The primary aim of an officer is to get promoted to high rank at any cost…” 

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:

1. This article is a fictional spoof, satire, pure fiction, just for fun and humor, no offence is meant to anyone, so take it with a pinch of salt and have a laugh.
2. All stories in this blog are a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the stories are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (All Rights Reserved)

Link to my source blog post in my Blog Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2017/03/military-musings-hype-and-reality-what.html

© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

This is a revised version of my article written by me Vikram Karve 4 years ago in 2015 and Posted by me online earlier in my Academic and Creative Writing Blog at 5/09/2015 10:07:00 PM at url: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2015/05/humor-in-uniform-what-is-aim-of-officer.html and later at url: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2015/08/military-musings-rank-has-its.html  and  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2016/01/humor-in-uniform-promotion-at-any-cost.html and  https://karve.wordpress.com/2018/01/28/humor-in-uniform-olq-in-a-nutshell/ and  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2016/06/humor-in-uniform-military-wisdom-most.html

Happiest Day of My Life

Do you remember the happiest day of your life…?

I do…!

Yes – 43 years may have passed – but I clearly remember what happened on the happiest day of my life.

Here is the story…

Dear Reader – Let me take you back in time to the 1970’s – 43 years back – to the year 1976 to be precise…

Remember – Dear Reader – 43 years ago – in 1976 – there were no mobiles – no internet – no email – no Social Media – no Facebook, Twitter, WhatsApp etc

We had nothing that you take for granted nowadays – even PCs and Laptops did not exist – and – for communication – you wrote letters and sent them by postal “snail mail”.

And – if there was someting very urgent – you could send a “telegram” – or make a landline “trunk-call” – which was very costly…

THE HAPPIEST DAY OF MY LIFE

My Very Own Love Story by Vikram Karve

Part 1 – THE HAPPIEST DAY OF MY LIFE

(Mumbai – Thursday – 14 October 1976)

Do you remember the happiest day of your life…?

I do…!

Yes – 43 years may have passed – but I clearly remember what happened on the happiest day of my life.

Here’s how it began…

“Excuse me…” a feminine voice said from behind me.

I turned around.

“Mr. Avinash…?” she asked.

I stared blankly at the smart young woman, tongue-tied.

“I am Sheetal…” she said with a lovely smile.

“Oh, Hi…” I stammered, quickly gathering my wits.

I looked at her.

Avinash had been terribly wrong in describing how Sheetal looked like.

The Sheetal standing in front of me – she was no podgy pedestrian suburban unpretentious “back-home-type behenji girl” – as Avinash had imagined.

She was a real beauty – chic, smart, ravishing, a stunner – and I could not take my eyes off her.

Her eyes were extremely beautiful – enormous, dark, expressive eyes.

And suddenly – her eyes began to dance.

Sheetal must have seen the frank look of genuine admiration in my eyes.

So she gave me smile so captivating – that I experienced a delightful twinge in my heart.

“You are Mr. Avinash – aren’t you…?” she asked mischievously.

I was about to say “No…”

But – I remembered that I was masquerading as Avinash – so I lied to her and said:

“Yes. I am Avinash. How did you recognize me…?”

“You were the only person looking totally “lost” and “out of place” out here – the odd man out…” she laughed vivaciously.

“Oh…” I said unconsciously.

I stood still – mesmerized by her gorgeousness – and by my natural instinct – I let my eyes linger – and travel all over her exquisite body.

“Hey – are you going to stare at me all day – or should we grab a bite…? I am hungry…” she said playfully.

“Yes…Yes…” I said.

“Okay – come – let’s go to “Samovar” – we can talk there in peace…” she said.

Sheetal led me from the art gallery to Samovar – the restaurant in the veranda.

Thus began – the happiest day of my life.

Part 2 – LIFE IN THOSE “GOOD OLD” DAYS

(Pune – Circa 1976)

Dear Reader – please permit me to tell you a little bit about how it all started.

In order to tell you this story – I am going to transport you back into time 43 years into the past.

Yes – we are going 43 years back in time to 1976 – when Pune was a Pensioners’ Paradise.

Believe it or not – Dear Reader – but – in the 1960’s and 1970’s – Pune – the Queen of the Deccan – with its lovely climate – pure fresh air, lush green environs – salubrious, spacious and friendly laid back atmosphere – was indeed a “paradise”.

Yes – those days, Pune was indeed the best city to live in.

In fact – 43 years ago – in 1976 – Pune was not even a “city” in the literal sense.

Imagine a Pune without Malls and the Multiplexes – with hardly any traffic on the roads – when the bicycle was the popular mode of travel.

The nearest “city” was Mumbai.

Those days – in the 1970’s – Mumbai was called Bombay – and much earlier – in the 1960’s – Pune was called Poona.

The best way of going to Mumbai was to travel by the Indian Railways – travelling by charming trains like the Deccan Queen – enjoying the scenic beauty of the lush green Sahyadri Ghats while savouring the delicious piping hot breakfast served by the restaurant car.

There was no expressway – and the “Bombay – Poona Road” – as it was called – was quite terrible – and it took around six hours to drive down to Mumbai – as the winding road through the Khandala Ghats was quite treacherous.

Just imagine – there were no mobile cell-phones, no internet, no Smartphones, no PCs, even no STD.

If you wanted to talk to someone outside Pune – you had to book “trunk-calls” on a landline telephone – and wait for hours for the call to materialize – or if you were in a hurry – then you had to make expensive “lightening” calls.

Black and White Television had just arrived and was a novelty which very few lucky prosperous people possessed.

And everyone in the neighborhood barged into their homes to watch popular TV programmes like chitrahaar, chayageet, or a cricket match.

The main thing was that there was no internet – and hence – there was no email – and one had to write letters – and send them via post as there were no courier services either.

Of course – gadgets like mobiles and smartphones were a long way off – so you could not even imagine things like SMS or Social Media like Facebook or Twitter or applications like “WhatsApp”.

Social interaction was face to face – relishing yummy Bhel in the numerous picturesque parks – or over tea – in the Amrutatulayas, Irani Cafes and Kattas – as there was no Facebook, no Twitter, no Google, no Blogging, no cell phones, no blackberry, no iphones, no smartphones, no SMS, no MMS, no nothing – and as I said – way back then – 43 years ago – the concepts of “cyberspace” and wireless mobile technology just did not exist.

Those days – a B. Tech. from an IIT did not get you a huge pay packet.

Yes – an IIT degree surely ensured that you got a good job.

But – once you were in the job – you were on par with the other guys from various Engineering Colleges.

Yes – only “guys” did engineering those days – maybe there were a few “gals” – the rare exceptions – but – 43 years ago – in 1976 – I hardly met any girl pursuing a career as an engineer – maybe most of them got married – or shifted to “softer” professions.

Both of us – my IIT Classmate Avinash and Me – we joined a leading engineering company located in the suburbs of Pune.

Well – that was the trend at IITs those days.

Either you went abroad – to America – to pursue higher studies.

Or – you got a good job in the campus interview in a prestigious engineering firm.

Unless – you were one of those few who preferred to be a white-collared manager via the MBA route.

Way back then – there were hardly any Management Institutes (“Business Schools” – as they are called nowadays).

I think maybe there was just one IIM – at Ahmedabad – or maybe there were two – and there was FMS at Delhi – and Jamnalal Bajaj (JBIMS) at Mumbai (then called Bombay).

The majority of engineers studied engineering to practice engineering – so we were quite happy to hit the shop floor doing hard core engineering.

We worked hard – for six days a week including Sundays – and we had our weekly off on Thursdays – the industrial holiday in Pune.

We rented a house near Deccan Gymkhana – from where we commuted to work and back by the company bus.

Life was good.

It was easy to be happy.

The threshold of happiness was so low – that small things made us happy.

Yes – simple things like a relaxed chat over a cup of tea made you happy.

I can never forget those happy moments.

Yes – every evening after work – we would get down from the bus at Deccan Gymkhana bus stop – relax over a Bun-Maska and Chai at Café Good Luck or Lucky – and then walk down to our rented apartment on Bhandarkar Road nearby.

One of our most enjoyable highlights was our weekly Thursday visit to Pune Camp – to see the latest Hollywood Movie in royal style relaxing on those unique easy chairs at the inimitable West End Cinema – relishing tasty mouth-watering bites and soothing thirst-quenching sips at the Soda Fountain during the interval – followed by delectable Mutton Samosas, Bun Maska and refreshing Irani style Chai at Naaz – then a leisurely stroll on Main Street (now called MG Road) and East Street – window-shopping – “bird-watching” – and snacking – sandwiches, chicken rolls and cold coffee at Marz-o-rin – maybe a browse at Manney’s bookstore – and then – a hearty Chinese meal at Kamling or Chung Fa – or a Mughlai repast at Latif’s – or Punjabi Food at Kwality – Biryani at Dorabjee or George – or Sizzlers at The Place (which boasts of being the first Sizzler Place in India) next to Manney’s.

And then – we would end the day with a Meetha Masala Paan at George Pan Shop – to carry home the lingering flavour and fragrance of the delightful evening.

Part 3 – AVINASH ASKS ME A FAVOUR

(Pune – Wednesday Evening – 13 October 1976)

When there are two close friends – one assumes the role of a leader – and the other becomes a de facto follower.

Amongst the two of us – Avinash was a tall, strapping, confident, flamboyant, handsome man endowed with an excellent physique with a dominating personality – and he was the natural leader.

“Shekhar – can you do me a favour…?” Avinash said to me one Wednesday evening – while we were sipping chai at Cafe Good Luck in Deccan.

“Favour…?” I asked.

“I want you to go down to Mumbai tomorrow and see a girl in my place…” he said nonchalantly.

“See a girl…?” I looked at him, confused.

“Let me explain to you. There is some back-home-type behenji girl.”

“Back-home-type behenji girl…?”

“Yes. Someone visited my parents in my hometown with a marriage proposal for me. They want me to marry their daughter. She works in Mumbai. My parents want me to see her – but I am least interested in getting involved with any back-home-type behenji female.”

“So?”

“So – you go to Mumbai – you pretend to be me – you meet her – and you come back. And – I will tell my parents that I did not like the girl…” Avinash said.

“You want “Me” to go to Mumbai and meet “Her” – masquerading as “You”…? Are you crazy…? Tell me – why don’t you go to Mumbai and meet her yourself…?” I asked Avinash.

“Listen yaar – I have managed to “patao” a “solid cheez” – I met her during that management seminar which I attended last week…” he said.

“But you didn’t tell me anything…” I said.

“Arre Bhai – first let something happen – kuch hone to do – but uske liye – you will have to help me out. This new girl I met at Seminar – I have fixed up a solid date with her tomorrow – I am taking her for a drive on my bike around Lonavala and Khandala – we planned it during the seminar – she agreed after lots of my pleading. And – suddenly this morning – my mom calls up in the office and tells me to go to Mumbai tomorrow to meet this “marriage proposal girl”. I told my mother that I was not interested – but my mother said that she had given her word – so she insisted that I go to Mumbai and meet the girl tomorrow as a formality. Please Shekhar – help me out. Just go to Mumbai tomorrow and meet the girl. I told you that it is just a formality. Then – we can all forget about it…” Avinash said.

“But how…?” I protested.

“I have already booked your ticket both ways by Deccan Queen. Just go to Mumbai in the morning – and come back to Pune in the evening. This girl I am supposed to see is called Sheetal – and she will meet you in the Jehangir Art Gallery at 11 o’clock. It’s a working day for her. The girl told my mother that she would take some time off – and she would be there to meet me at Jehangir Art Gallery which is near her office.”

“But how can I masquerade as you…? She must be having your photo. I will get caught – and it will be very embarrassing…” I said.

“There is no photo, nothing – she doesn’t know how I look like – and I even don’t know how she looks like. It all happened so suddenly. Our parents got talking back home last evening – my mother spoke to the girl by trunk-call. My mother knows I have Thursday off – so she fixed up the meeting with the girl – and then – my mother rang me up in the office this morning – and she told me to go to Mumbai and see the girl tomorrow.”

“But what is the crashing hurry…? You can meet the girl next Thursday…” I said.

“It seems that the girl is going back to her hometown near our place – in the mofussil – by the Friday evening train. She is going away for a month’s leave and there are some boys lined up there for her to see – apparently my mother is quite keen on this girl – her family is good – she is the only child – so maybe – they promised plenty of dowry. But – I am just not interested. She is seeing so many boys back home – I am sure she will like someone – and she will forget about me – I mean – “you” – she’ll surely forget “you” pretty soon – because you are quite “forgettable”…” he said.

“NO NO. NO. I am not going – the whole thing is preposterous – I can’t do this…” I protested.

“Yaar please – don’t ditch me – I have already told my mother that I will meet the girl at 11 AM tomorrow in Jehangir Art Gallery…” he said.

“I don’t understand all this…” I said.

“I have told you all this before. My mother said that the girl’s office is in Kalaghoda – so Jehangir Art Gallery is the nearest and best place – out there in Mumbai. She works on Thursdays – only we here in Pune have industrial off on Thursdays – so they fixed up tomorrow as the girl has to leave for her place on Friday evening on a holiday. Don’t argue – just get it over with. You have to meet her for 10-15 minutes – that’s all. Then she will go back to her office. You loaf around in Colaba – have some Biryani at Olympia or Delhi Darbar – and see a movie at Regal, Eros or Sterling, New Empire, Metro or somewhere – there is so much to do out there in Mumbai. Then you catch the Deccan Queen at 5 o’clock in the evening. I will come to pick you up at Pune railway station. And – after you come back – we will go to the Telephone Exchange – and from there – I will call up my mother – and I will tell her I did not like the girl – and – the whole thing will be a closed chapter…” Avinash said.

“No. I don’t like all this…” I protested.

Then Avinash put his arm around my shoulder and pleaded with me:

“Please Shekhar – I have to go for this Lonavala date – the female is too good yaar and it is a solid opportunity. I promise you Shekhar – agar woh pat gayee – if things work out and my Lonavala romance succeeds – I will give you a big treat – whatever you want.”

So – for the sake of friendship – early next morning – I boarded the Deccan Queen to Mumbai masquerading as Avinash – and travelled to Mumbai – for my rendezvous with Sheetal.

Part 4 – RENDEZVOUS IN JEHANGIR ART GALLERY

(Mumbai – Thursday Morning – 14 October 1976)

The Deccan Queen reached Mumbai at 10:30 AM.

I walked down DN Road – past Hutatma Chowk (or Flora Fountain as it is popularly known) – and by the time I reached Jehangir Art Gallery at Kala Ghoda it was almost 11 AM.

For a few moments I stood in the foyer – looking around at all the girls – searching for someone looking like a back-home-type behenji female who may be Sheetal.

Dear Reader – I know it will be difficult for you to imagine how different and archaic things were in those days – 43 years ago – in 1976.

Today – if you want to find out about a girl – you can just Google her name – and – presto – so many details will show up about her – you can easily see everything about her – her present – her past – her family and friends – her relationships – the places she has visited – where she has studied – worked – you can even see her pictures – her entire web identity.

Today – pictures can be instantly clicked and sent on mobile phones – even photos can be scanned and sent instantly on mobiles and by email.

But – in the 1970’s – the only way to send a photograph was by post – and a letter took many days to reach.

That is why it was not possible for Avinash and Sheetal to exchange photos.

And – that is why I could masquerade as Avinash.

So – that is why – at 11 AM on the 14^th of October 1976 – I was standing in Jehangir Art Gallery waiting to meet a girl called “Sheetal” – but I was totally clueless about how Sheetal looked like.

After a few moments – I went into the exhibition hall and started admiring the paintings.

“Excuse me…” a feminine voice said from behind me.

I turned around.

“Mr. Avinash…?” she asked.

I stared blankly at the smart young woman – I was tongue-tied.

“I’m Sheetal…” she said with a lovely smile.

“Oh, Hi…” I stammered – quickly gathering my wits – remembering that I was masquerading as Avinash.

I looked at her.

Avinash had been terribly wrong in describing how Sheetal looked like.

The Sheetal standing in front of me was no podgy pedestrian suburban unpretentious “back-home-type behenji female”.

She was a real beauty – chic, smart, ravishing, a stunner – and I could not take my eyes off her.

Her eyes were extremely beautiful – enormous, dark, expressive eyes.

And suddenly – her eyes began to dance.

Sheetal must have seen the frank look of genuine admiration in my eyes.

Yes – I was genuinely admiring her beauty – with the unspoken language of the eyes – which was worth more than a thousand spoken compliments.

Sheetal must have sensed my admiration – so she gave me smile so captivating – that I experienced a delightful twinge in my heart.

“You are Mr. Avinash, aren’t you…?” she asked mischievously.

“Yes – I am Avinash…” I lied, “How did you recognize me…?”

“You were the only person looking totally “lost” and “out of place” over here – like an “odd man out”…” she laughed vivaciously.

“Oh…” I said unconsciously.

I stood still – mesmerized by her gorgeousness – and following my natural instinct – I let my eyes linger on her – travel all over her exquisite body.

“Hey – are you going to stare at me all day – or should we grab a bite…? I am hungry…” she said playfully.

“Yes…Yes…” I said.

“Okay – come – let’s go to “Samovar” – we can talk there in peace too…” she said.

Sheetal led me from the art gallery to Samovar – the restaurant in the veranda.

Part 5 – A ROMANTIC DATE WITH The “BACK-HOME-TYPE BEHENJI FEMALE”

(Mumbai – Thursday Afternoon – 14 October 1976)

“Samovar” restaurant was situated next to the art gallery – in a long rectangular veranda – and ot resembled a Railway Dining Car.

We sat down opposite each other – on the comfortable cane chairs – and I looked at the expansive green lawns of adjoining Museum.

The moment we sat down – a waiter came and asked us what we wanted to eat.

“I am hungry..” she said – and she ordered stuffed Parathas and Dahi Wada.

“I’ll have a cutlet…” I said, “and some Pudina Chai after that.”

“You’ve come here before…” she asked.

“Just once – a few years ago – when I was at IIT…” I said.

“Oh Yes – you studied at IIT Powai – but that’s quite far away.”

“We sometimes came down from Powai to South Mumbai on Sundays – to have a loaf around Fort, Colaba and Churchgate – and maybe see a movie.”

“I come here quite often. My office is nearby. That’s why I suggested this place – we can sit here and talk undisturbed for as long as we want and get to know each other better. This is a nice place for a relaxed chat over lunch…” she said.

I was in no mood for a relaxed chat over lunch.

In fact – I was feeling nervous.

The more I talked to her – the more was the chance of me being unmasked. Suppose I slipped up – and if she came to know that I was not the “Avinash” she was expecting – but a “phony” masquerading as Avinash – it would be terrible – I could not even imagine the consequences.

I also felt qualms of conscience.

I had taken a liking to this girl Sheetal – sitting in front of me – and I felt I was not doing the right thing by pretending to be Avinash.

I could not bear the mendacity – I felt terribly guilty telling a blatant lie and cheating this decent girl.

So – I blurted out:

“Hey, Sheetal. I think I need to go. I cannot do this any longer. Bye – I must go now.”

“You want to go now…? Is anything wrong…? Are you feeling okay…?”

“No – I am not okay. And – everything is wrong.”

“What happened…?” she asked looking surprised, and worried.

“I want to tell you something. I want to confess…” I said.

“Confess…? What…?” she asked.

“I am not who you think. I am not Avinash. My name is Shekhar…” I said.

She gave me a puzzled look – and then she said to me:

“You are not Avinash…? You are Shekhar…? Why don’t you tell me everything.”

I told her everything.

Yes – I told her everything – from the beginning to the end – each and every thing.

I felt relieved – once I had got it off my chest.

I thought she would get angry.

But she smiled and said to me:

“So you are Shekhar who has come to “see” the “marriage proposal” for Avinash – that is me – the “prospective bride”…”

“Yes…” I said sheepishly.

“And the real Avinash is having a good time with the “hot-chick” in Lonavala…?”

“Yes…”

“So you will make a fool of me by masquerading as Avinash – and pass some time with me – and go back to Pune…?”

“Yes.”

“And the moment you reach Pune – Avinash will ring up his mother – and he will tell her that he did not like the girl – that is “Me”…”

“Yes.”

“What was the need to for this “charade”…?”

“I don’t know – Avinash said it has something to do with your conservative families – if he refuses to see you – then relations between your famlies may get spoiled. But please – I don’t want to discuss all this – I am feeling very bad doing this to you – I am very sorry.”

“You don’t be sorry – it is your friend Avinash who should be sorry…”

“I will go now…”

“You are booked by the evening Deccan Queen – isn’t it…?”

“Yes.”

“So – now that we are stuck with each other – why don’t we make the most of it…?” she said.

“I don’t know…”

“Don’t worry – I am not going to eat you up. We will do whatever “time-pass” you were planning to do – after getting rid of me…”

“But you have got office – that is what Avinash told me.”

“I have taken the day off. Come – let’s spend some time together – then you can catch the Deccan Queen – and I will go back to my hostel on Marine Drive.”

Our food order arrived.

Sheetal asked for extra plates – and we shared the stuffed parathas and the cutlet.

“Now what…?” Sheetal asked, after we had finished eating.

“Let’s see the Museum…” I said – looking out towards the imposing Museum building.

“The Museum…?” she asked, looking surprised.

“You don’t want to go to the Museum…? Okay – whatever you say…”

“No. No. Today you are taking me out on a “Date”. I will come with you wherever take me…” she smiled – and she said politely to me, “just imagine – I have been in Mumbai for 6 months – I work so close by – and I have not seen the Museum as yet…”

I must say that Sheetal was really beautiful – and as we walked side by side – I realized that all the men were looking appreciatively at her – in fact – some men were giving her quite yearning looks.

For the first time in my life – I felt the natural pride of possession – that any man feels – when he has the company of a woman that other men desire.

After we came out the Museum – Sheetal asked me:

“Now what…?”

“Let’s walk down Colaba Causeway. We can go to Olympia for a Biryani – and then have Gulab Jamun or Falooda at Kailash Parbat…”

“Okay. But – I am not hungry yet. So – what should we do now…?” she asked.

“Let’s browse books…”

“Browse books…?”

“Yes – we can browse books on the pavement bookstalls near the CTO – sometimes you get good books there quite cheap…”

“And how are we going there…? I hope you are not going to march me down on foot…!”

“Yes – I was thinking it will be a good walk…”

“Please – I am feeling quite tired – my legs are aching – and – the high heels I am wearing are not exactly made for cross country walking…!!!”

“Okay – let’s take the bus…”

“Bus…? You want to take me – your lovely “Date” – in a bus…?”

“Why…? Is something wrong…? I have no experience in these sorts of things…”

“Haven’t you dated a girl before..?”

“No.”

“Okay – let’s go by bus.”

Soon – we reached CTO – and walked to the pavement book-stalls.

We browsed books.

Then we went to a quaint Maharashtrian restaurant opposite VT called “Kelkar Vishranti Gruha” – and we ate Sabudana Usal and Kanda Thalipith – and washed it down by a delicious Piyush.

Sheetal looked at me and said:

“I have gone out with so many boys – but you are different…”

“Different…?”

“No one wanted to march me down in the hot sun – no one took me by bus – no one made me browse books on pavement stalls – and no one has taken me to these quaint food joints – which I didn’t know even existed.”

“You didn’t enjoy…?”

“Of course I did – but what I am saying is that I have never seen anyone like you – you are different from the rest – you are so simple ” you act so natural – I have met all kinds of men – but you are truly an original…” she said.

I felt good – I blushed – but maybe – she was just being kind to me.

We strolled in Fort – window-shopping.

I lost all track of time.

The day had passed in a haze of delight – for the first time in my life – I experienced the joy that a girl can bring in a man’s life.

We passed a shop selling clocks.

Sheetal looked at the clocks and said to me:

“Hey it is already 4:45 PM – you have to catch the Deccan Queen – isn’t it…? I think we better head to the station…”

“Okay – Bye…” I said.

“What do you mean – “Bye”…? I am coming to see you off on the train…” she said.

I did not refuse.

I yearned for a few more moments of her delightful company.

Part 6 – THE CLIMAX OF THE STORY

(Mumbai – Thursday Evening – 14 October 1976)

It was 5 o’clock in the evening.

The blue-and-cream Deccan Queen stood beside the platform waiting to start its evening journey from Mumbai to Pune.

We – Sheetal and Me – we stood on platform outside my coach.

“You are the first boy I have met who did not try to impress me… Sheetal said.

“I know. But what can I do…? I told you that I have no experience of dating girls. But – I should have tried and treated you better. I am sorry…” I said.

“Hey – why are you sorry…? You are really nice decent guy. I really enjoyed your company…”

“You are just saying that to console me. I am such a bore – and such a “cheapie”. I am sure I ruined your day…” I said apologetically.

“No. No. I really enjoyed your company. I have never gone a “date” like this before. It was real fun…” she said with a smile.

“Thank you, Sheetal. I am feeling so good that you said that…”

“It is true, Shekhar. You make me feel good. No one has made me feel so good before. I really enjoy your company. You are one person with whom I can be myself. Yes – with you I can be my own self. I don’t have to fake it. I don’t have to put on an act. I don’t have to wear a mask. I don’t have to be someone else. I can just be myself and forget about all those social graces…”

“Me too…” I said.

“Maybe we should see more of each other. I think I will come down to Pune next weekend.”

“What…? You want to come to Pune…?”

“Why…? Don’t you like my company…?”

“No. No. Of course I like you. But Avinash will be there in Pune. It will be very awkward…”

“Avinash…? To hell with him…!!! In any case – I am not getting married to Avinash now. In fact – by tomorrow he would have told his parents that he has rejected me. That is what he told you – isn’t it…?”

“Yes. In fact – Avinash told me that he would call up his parents tonight only – the moment I reach Pune.”

“Shekhar – you make sure Avinash calls up his parents tonight. Because I am going to call up my parents from the CTO the moment the Deccan Queen leaves – I am going and tell them that I don’t want to marry such a dope like Avinash…”

“Dope…? But – Avinash is not a “dope”. He is not like me…” I said.

“And suppose – just suppose – I told you that “Sheetal” is not like me…” she said, looking at me directly in the eye.

“Sheetal is not like you…? What do you mean…? You are “Sheetal” aren’t you…?”

“You still think I am “Sheetal” – don’t you…?” she looked at me mischievously.

“Yes. Aren’t you “Sheetal”…?” I said, a bit bewildered.

“You know, Shekhar – I like you so much – you make me feel so good – and – you were so frank and honest with me – that – I can’t cheat you any longer…” she said.

“Cheat me…?”

“Yes. I have been deceiving you – and I have been making a fool of you. But you are such a good guy – that I have to be honest with you. I am going to come clean…”

“Come clean…?”

“Shekhar – in the morning you told me the truth that you are not Avinash – now it is my turn to tell you the truth. I want to confess…”

“Confess …?”

“I am not “Sheetal”…” she said.

“What…? You are not Sheetal…? You are not the girl Avinash was supposed to see for marriage…?” I asked – I was totally taken aback, feeling puzzled and perplexed.

“Yes, Shekhar – I am not Sheetal…” she repeated.

Then who are you…?” I asked her, trying to recover my wits.

“Shweta – my name is “Shweta”. I am the girl Avinash was supposed to meet in Lonavala…” she said.

“Lonavala…? Don’t tell me that you are that “hot-chick” who Avinash was so desperate to patao…!” I blurted out, instantly regretting my words.

She laughed.

She gave a hearty laugh.

I looked at her dumbstruck, feeling embarrassed.

Then she said to me:

“Yes – I am the “hot-chick” your friend Avinash met last week at the Management Seminar…”

“You’ve not gone to Lonavala to meet him as planned…? Poor Avinash. He must have waited for you all day. Why did you ditch him…?”

“Don’t worry. I have sent Sheetal to Lonavala to meet Avinash.”

“What…? Sheetal…? You have sent Sheetal to Lonavala to meet Avinash…?”

“Yes – the same Sheetal – well – she happens to be my best friend.”

“Oh…?”

“Sheetal told me that her mother was forcing her to see a boy called Avinash who was coming down from Pune. She told me that she did not want to see any boy – in fact – Sheetal is not interested in getting married so fast…”

“So…?”

“When she told me details of the boy – I got a bit suspicious – could it be the same Avinash who had called me to Lonavala…? How could Avinash be in Lonavala and Mumbai at the same time…? Was he “two-timing” me…? Or – was he going to stand her up…? I was curious – very curious…”

“So you decided to swap dates…?”

“Yes. And – we wanted to get to the bottom of things – to find out who is who – and – what is what – doodh ka doodh aur paani ka paani – as they say in Hindi…”

“So you came to meet me masquerading as “Sheetal”…?” I said.

“Yes – and the actual “Sheetal” has gone to Lonavala by the same morning train on which I was supposed to travel. Sheetal must have been there on time at the rendezvous point where Avinash was going to meet me. I am sure Sheetal and Avinash have met each other…”

“Oh, My God…”

“Why…? How do you know that they won’t like each other…? We liked each other didn’t we…? I am sure they are spending some “quality time” together. You never know – Sheetal and Avinash may even decide to get married…” Shweta said, with a mischievous smile and twinkle in her eyes.

Suddenly – I heard the guard blow his whistle.

It was almost 5:10 PM – time for the Deccan Queen to leave.

“The train is going to start. I have to go now…” I said to Shweta.

“Let the train go…” she said.

“What…?”

“I want to spend some more time with you. Let’s walk on Marine Drive – watch sunset together. Then we’ll go to Chowpatty. Let’s walk on the sand by the sea – let’s eat some yummy bhel by the seaside. And then – you can treat me to that “green chilly ice cream” you were telling me so much about…” she said.

Suddenly – the train jerked and started moving.

“Hey – the train is leaving…” I said

“Let it go…” Shweta said – and she pressed my hand.

I pressed her hand back – as I watched the Deccan Queen leave without me.

The evening passed in a haze of delight.

Never before had I enjoyed the company of a person so much.

For the first time in my life – I experienced a new emotion – a kind of thrilling happiness and blissful joy that the right girl can bring in your life.

And – Shweta was certainly the right girl for me.

I realized the meaning of love – I knew what it was like to be in love.

We sat on the parapet enjoying the cool night sea breeze on Marine Drive – opposite the working women’s hostel where Shweta lived.

Time flew.

I looked at my watch – it was 11:15 PM.

The last train for Pune – the overnight Passenger – it left Mumbai at 11:45 PM.

It was time to say goodbye – at least for now.

I called a Taxi.

“Bye…” I said to Shweta.

“Bye…” she said.

“I want to ask you something…” I said.

“I know what you want to ask me – and my answer is “YES”…” she said.

My heart ached as the taxi moved away – and the distance between us kept on increasing till she disappeared into the distance.

But I knew that this was the beginning of a long and lovely relationship.

EPILOGUE – All’s Well That Ends Well

Shweta and I got married.

And – by the way – Sheetal and Avinash got married too.

Two best friends married two best friends.

What an irony of life – the conservative Me – I got married to the “hot-chick” Shweta.

And – the “mod-guy” Shekhar – he got married to the “back-home-type behenji girl” Sheetal.

We got married in 1977 – and it has been a long time since – 42 years have passed – and till this day – we all live happily ever after.

All’s well that ends well.

We always taunt them – Avinash and Sheetal – that ours is a “Love” Marriage – and theirs is an “Arranged” Marriage.

We have all relocated to Mumbai.

Dear Reader:

Do you want to meet us…?

Okay – try your luck on Sunday evenings at Bachellor’s opposite Chowpatty – and you may chance upon us enjoying “Green Chilly Ice Cream”.

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve
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Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the story are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (all rights reserved)

Link to my original post in my Blog Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2017/06/the-happiest-day-of-my-life-love-story.html

This is a revised, updated and abridged version of my story THE HAPPIEST DAY OF MY LIFE written by me Vikram Karve 18 years ago in the year 2000 and earlier posted online by me Vikram Karve in my blog a number of times including at 10/14/2013 08:19:00 PM at url: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2013/10/the-happiest-day-of-my-life.html and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2014/11/my-very-own-love-story-happiest-day-of.html etc and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2015/09/alls-well-that-ends-well.html and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2015/11/my-first-date-love-story.html and https://karve.wordpress.com/2018/01/08/a-happy-ending-love-story/ and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2016/07/my-first-date-happiest-day-of-my-life.html