For myself,

A self centered bastard…

PROLOGUE

“We have ragging in college, where we say people of

my year are my brothers. We are taught by slaps that

no matter what our brother does, we have to never

leave him alone and have to stand by him. I don’t find

any flaw in this scenario because this is what I have

always been taught, that your family is something

which always stands by you.” This was my reply to

my mom when she told me “Aryan you are the stain

on the name of all brothers of this country. Even the

illiterate and ignorant brothers of this country are

ready to punch on the face of the guy who looks on

their sister, and you on the other hand have always

stood by her in everything.”

Hello everyone, I am Aryan. Welcome to my world.

Yesterday (06.05.2011) was my sister’s marriage.

And today is my mom and dad is planning my vidaayi

along with her.

The road to that marriage was quite long, so don’t

think I will try to stay away from minor details ‘coz

its minor details that make a story, that will make you

feel it the way I lived it.

Chapter 1 – When I was a kid

The description I will give here about my family here

is of the time when I was in 12th (non-medical) or

before that. I don’t know who changed after that ‘we

or my mom-dad? ’

My mom-dad migrated from Gorakhpur (U.P.) in ’85

to Bathinda (Punjab). We (the ‘future we’-as I wasn’t

born at that time) were a middle class family. I

opened my eyes in ’92 and I guess I was convinced by

’94 that I have two elder sisters. The story has just

started. I went to school, My elder di used to help me

in my studies, only after my mom taught me how to

hold the pen and how to write. My mom is a regular

Indian housewife. Dad works in N.F.L. We three used

to spend most of the time together, to the school,

back from the school, at home, in streets and blah,

blah places. So in short, we always were very good

friends.

So about the relatives, I know I have three paternal

uncles, two paternal aunts and two maternal uncles,

four maternal aunts. Shocked? Even I was, but they

say in past people used to have so many kids. No

wonder, why India is second in population! And at

the same time why you and me are here!

The thing is all my relatives used to live in Gorakhpur

only, so due to work and our schools we were hardly

able to ever visit them in the villages of Gorakhpur.

And after living in city of Punjab believe me you

never want to go to some village of U.P. not when you

have to travel in fully packed railway sleeper coaches

or sometime a little more than just coaches when the

train is going to Bihar(Oh yes, UP and Bihar are

different). I still remember what I heard while

travelling in train to Gorakhpur:

1 bihaari, sab pe bhari ;

2 bihaari, maara-maari ;

3 bihaari, train hamaari.

Sorry for you if you don’t know enough hindi to

understand that, ‘coz translating it in English will jus,

very simply ruin it.

Oh I forgot I was talking about relatives. The thing is,

I don’t know much about them, so I was just trying to

beat around the bush. Well, my relatives umm… are

quite a good people, happy people… Oh Crap! I’ll keep

telling you about them as we progress.

My mom, is like everyone have their own- ‘the best

mom in world’. She’s religious. One thing you should

know about her is; she’s always on dad’s side or you

can say they are always on same side. I still

remember when one of my friends of 3rd class told me

a trick to save myself from getting beaten up by

parents. Wasn’t really that hard to figure out myself,

but as you also know it’s easier to risk when you

know some of your friend tried it. So, the trick was to

go to mom when dad tries to beat you and go to dad

when mom tries to do that. I did the same, exactly the

same and I still remember running from both of them

and searching for anusha di in the whole house and

later on, getting my ass kicked from both of them. I

don’t know how the hell they figured out the trick just

in first attempt.

Well, now let me tell you about my father, He’s my

favourite, He’s my role model, and he’s the best dad

anyone can have. He’s the best person whom you will

ever meet. Yes, I love him that much. And I know he

loves all of us more than that. I am sure most of

stories you have read about family issues are about

mothers, about the girl friends, about the typical

aunties, its like females have their quota in literature

world also as they’ve got in Delhi metro, local trains,

Kerala buses, everywhere! It’s not like I am anti-

feminist or something but its jus’ I hate when they

say girls are equal to boys and than provide a whole

different coach for them! Where’s the equality when a

pretty girl asks you to get up from their reserved

seats! It’s like there’s no value of boys or gents, even

while telling victims of bomb blasts they refer to no.

of females and kids differently, what are we? Some

kind of by-products? This story isn’t about girls,

though it’s about their love and sacrifice, It’s about

their decisions but surely it’s not about them. He is a

person who told me what a dream is, If it wasn’t for

his dreams, his sacrifices, his hard work; I wouldn’t

be writing on this Laptop, I guess I wouldn’t even be

knowing how to write ! He has worked a lot, how

much a person with a starting salary of 6 Rs. Per day

can dream of? There was no fix job, No support from

home or relatives, No vehicle to travel 10 km. He used

to walk the same distance with Tiffin in his hands

everyday-no matter how hot it is or how cold it is, it

was like he couldn’t feel his hands when he reached

there. And yet he never told me about these things. I

still remember the taste of sweets and smile of my

mom when we bought our first bed. Yea, he dreamt

big, He dreamt big for us, And Now he earns Rs. 6000

per day! He’s the best role model I can look upon.

My younger sister is a perfect example of what we

say as unpredictable, I am rather planning to change

it in oxford dictionary with my debut novel. She

keeps telling me what to do, how to do and seriously

annoys me sometimes too. The way of my thinking

matches more with my elder sister i.e. Anusha,

there’s a hell of a explanation for this fact which

every lay man of India can understand (makes me

wonder why was Darwin so dumb). They say Amrita

is similar to your mom and Anusha and I are similar

to Dad. No idea, why mom dad scold us when we fight

when it’s their genes which are messed up! Whatever

the reason may be and howsoever our genes may

differ, I love her lot as all brothers do. She laughs a lot

and that too in high volume, most of the times she

was the reason for which we all get scolded in the

middle of night. You can never guess what she wants

to hear from you, sometimes she is mischievous and

then all of a sudden serious as I said before

‘unpredictable’.

Enough are the stories with the people I know and

how they are. But wait a sec; aren’t you wondering I

haven’t told you about the way I think and the way

Anusha di thinks? Seriously, if I will tell that too what

will you incur? I am in no mood of spoon feeding you

like the IITians and NITians from bansal classes. So

let’s begin with it.

CHAPTER 2- The ‘first’ glimpse

Results of my 5th grade were just out, I had scored a

very decent score as including my two elder sisters I

was good at studies. My dad decided to change our

schools. I was admitted to a different school than my

sisters. My elder sister (Anusha) was in 9th grade that

time and younger one (Amrita) was in 7th grade.

“That idiot sushma (referring to her Punjabi teacher)

gave that giant elephant extra 3 marks!” Di (Anusha,

my elder sister) was telling something to mom. When

I went sat there for some time, I came to finally

understand it was about a guy in her class who

scored 1 mark more than her in September tests.

Within some days I came to know about him more,

He was also a new guy in her school who migrated

from a Punjabi medium.

Days passed on and results of my 6th grade were out, I

scored 7th position and Anusha Di scored second

position with 10 marks less than that guy. We used to

have dinner together, and everyone used to keep

talking about his/her day or we used to watch

‘Kusum’ together, that was our family serial at that

time; as every(most of them) family have their until

the kids grow up, and are rather busy in facebook and

HIMYM. Days passed, Di used to gossip about that

guy, He’s so fat, he’s so black, and his nose is so long,

blah, blah, blah..!

I was in 7th grade now, the very fresh feeling of man

hood was coming in me (or rather say puberty), I was

also starting to get attracted towards gals, was

getting a bit more concerned about my looks but only

a little, not so much that I had to bath daily in winters.

But overall I still was a kid, one of those who think

they aren’t. I was studying in state board school and

was starting to envy guys from the convent school

just for the fact that they get to sit with the girls in

their classes. The girls, the same ones which used to

play with us all the time, were becoming ‘I don’t

know what to call it’. But whatever that thing was, it

was making them distant from us, making them not

to call us during class lectures, not to play with us in

the streets. I seriously hated that. But what can one

do about it. As I said before I was a bright student in

my school days, but the only thing common between

me and other bright students of my class was that I

was jealous of people scoring better than me,

something I think I had gained from Anusha di.

There was a girl studying in medical college who used

to study all night long and it was so that the window

of her room could be seen from the room where all

three of us used to study at night. And that gave us

the opportunity to spy on how much she studied.

While pursuing that noble cause, the feeling of

inferiority left us and the very fresh spirit of

competitiveness aroused deep in our hearts. And

since then, every night three hard working kids of 7th

grade, 9th grade and 10th grade started competing

with the girl of medical college (or rather just tube

light of her room). In the beginning studying up to 12

o’ clock seems to be a good record, but soon these

study sessions started to change in all those regular

group study sessions of students i.e. they were

becoming more of discussion sessions than the study

sessions, and these made us closer to each other. We

used to discuss everything that happened in our

classes, about our friends. These discussions also

revealed some more things about that mysterious

guy, like his writing was very good, and he was very

hardworking. Sometimes I even used to tell them

about the girl who topped our class; ‘Rinki’ was her

name (more about her in later chapters). Also get tips

from both of them about how to behave in class.

Anusha di used to teach me, I never had any tuition

unlike most of the students of my class. But still I was

among the good ones. You may be wondering why I

keep repeating that I was a bright student, I am bit of

the boasting kind and I don’t mind accepting it.

It was an ordinary night and all three of us were

sitting in our discussion session as usual. There were

numerous times when mom used to wake up with

our noise and shout on us to lower our sound levels.

So on that night we were talking about ‘Motiguj’. The

Motiguj was actually a chapter which Anusha di had

in their English literature book, but as the human

nature suggests we were not talking about this

chapter; It was rather name given by Anusha di to

that mysterious guy and so the talk was about him. I

don’t know what struck me that I told di that I

wanted to meet this guy, maybe due to the

impression of him I was under, or may be just a

childish will. Di was utterly shocked, and she snapped

back instantly, “No, Idiot!”

But after few minutes all three of us, were gathered

around our landline phone, calling at ‘motiguj’ home.

It was planned that if anyone else picks, I’ll play the

role of a guy Aryan Katiyal of their class. But I don’t

know why whenever I am doing something wicked

(on my levels), the lady luck always stalks me, and it

was the same that day too. ‘The Motiguj’ picked up

the phone, I still don’t know how I had understood

that I am brother of girl in his class so I am ought to

feel a bit superior and so I talked to him as if a

emperor talks to his slaves, and that day the emperor

was so happy from him that he offered ‘the Motiguj’

to meet himself, than ‘the motiguj’ urged to talk to the

dynasty of the emperor before telling his decision, so

he did, and agreed to meet too. The date and time

were fixed.

On the very next day, sharp 12 p.m., I was waiting for

him at the corner of our street. I had already told my

mom dad that I was going to my friend’s house, so no

worries from mom side. He appeared just in time, but

wait a second was he really travelling on what I

thought he would be? If you are going to meet the

emperor and you have ‘bajaj chetak’ and a bike

named ‘ambition +’ at home, so isn’t the choice of

bike is common sense? But Alas! The gift of common

sense didn’t seem to be that common to me now. The

very first thing I noticed was he wasn’t that black as

gossips of Anusha di had made me believe he was. So

here he was on his mighty bajaj chetak, unable to stop

his smiles when he looked on me. The smile was

mysterious, naughty making me realize that he was

laughing on the kid in me but at that time I didn’t care

all I needed was a nice treat, as a emperor was ought

to be treated.

The beauty of one’s nature is sometimes we love

surprises, when a certain turn of events turn to be

unexpected, desirable it may not be, but still we may

like it. It certainly change the way you think about

someone and what you think you mean to that

someone. You rather feel good when someone doesn’t

seem to care where you belong to, and still manages

to become modest. And there I was, amazed by the

levels of the oldness and sound that an old chetak can

make, dissolved in my thoughts.

CHAPTER 3- The Meeting

The longest period in a conversation is when after a

brief introductory conversation, we feel the lack of

things to talk about. The Almighty has made this

earth so beautiful, full of the topics to strike a

conversation on but still when you are thinking of a

topic to talk about, the Almighty becomes so mean.

The same was the case we were facing that day after I

sat on his chetak.

“Hello Bhaiya”

“Hi, how are you?”

“I am fine, you tell?”

“I am fine too, what will you like to eat?”

“Anything will work.” Though I was thinking in my

mind rather say praying in my mind that he takes me

to a nice place unlike the impression of his chetak.

There was a pin drop silence now, with both of us

thinking about topic to talk about. What in the world

a 10th and 7th grade guy can talk about which will

interest both of them? The very obvious answer is

Cricket! (Though I only had a superficial knowledge

about it)

He drove to a place, it was kachori hawker. He

claimed these are best kachori’s of Bathinda; I

nodded though I had never before tasted kachori in

bathinda. They were hot, so we planned to take them

to his home and eat there. And so I was at his home

within minutes, on the way he made me learn the

way to his house. His street no. was 7 ¾ , he told me,

“see remember it like it comes, 7 ¼ to 7 ¾”. Simple it

may sound to you while reading but kids of my age

are afraid of fractions, but still I remembered it.

There was no one at his home, as I know his mom-

dad both go to work. After having kachori’s, he gave

me a brief tour of his house which was quite big. It

kind of feels good when someone behaves with you

like you are not a kid, but in the end there’s always

something which reminds you back you are a small

kid and in my case that something was the game of

cricket. We decided to play together on their roof top,

but how could the smaller me compete a state level

cricket player even when he’s trying to play worse of

his games? We changed rules of ICC, well that’s

something we all do when playing gali cricket, isn’t it?

So other than all gali cricket rules the one newly

introduced was that if my two innings total exceeds

his one inning total than I win. It was like two of me

were trying to beat the motiguj, but for someone as

bad as me in cricket it was never possible. And to add

to make the situations worse, I came to know he’s

state level cricket player of his school. A feminine

voice disrupted my losing spree, it was shouting,

“Rishu! Come down beta.” And hence little built

respect was saved by his mom and we were back

down.

Everything till now was planned, or as expected. But

even the best laid plans have flaws. Mine was waiting

downstairs for me. I wasn’t sure what should I tell

about me to his mom, though initially I thought of

telling the truth to see his face fade (yes, I loved my

cunning ways). But all those cunning ways of mine

were lost when I just looked on her and was

reminded she was a teacher. On the other hand, his

mom was rather surprised to see my size. And I know

she was just going to ask me about me. But just then,

the lady luck winked at me and he showed me his 5.1

sony home theatre, I had never been fond of listening

to music but ‘sony’ had me just when I looked at its

size, same as mine. So presently there were two

surprises in the room, but the second surprise made

the first surprise forget about the motiguj’s mom, and

the first surprise played the second one at full

volume, forcing his mom to leave the room. Rude it

may sound, but see I got rid of the problem. And as

they say, all is well that ends well. After being lost in

bass of the woofers for about half an hour, I finally

remembered, I had to leave for home.

But this time may be he sensed it from my behavior

in the beginning or may be my company enlightened

him, he took me in car now. And we were roaming in

market, the feeling you get when you roam in the car

and look to the outside world is magnificient, it

wasn’t like I had never travelled in car, it was

something about the feelings, the feeling of being

independent, the feeling of being on the top of world.

After sitting very quiet for some time, I struck the

conversation, “Bhaiya, we should be heading towards

home now”

Very calmly he replied, “ok but tell me am I your

friend now?”

It sounded quite childish to me, and the feeling of ‘he

thinks I’m still a kid’ crossed my mind but still I

replied, “Yes, you are.”

“Then friends never call each other bhaiya, please use

my name; you can call me rishu.”

Though I had never heard of the former law, still I

said, “Ok, I will call you rishu.”

Sometimes when you don’t understand the relevance

of a topic at the time, it’s better to leave it than and

think about it later and that was what I did. And thus,

I was back at home.

I think about that day now and still wonder what

prompted me to call him that day and meet him, was

it di or was it me only? Or was it just a serendipitous

event? What happens next, I had never thought of

that as I was too little to think of the consequences.

Some of them were just inevitable or some were just

fueled by cuteness an innocence of a kid. But as they

say sometimes, the innocence and naïve behavior

may lead to blunders and so it was. But we were just

hiding in our best shed, protected from everything by

mom and dad.

Chapter 4 – The AfterEffects

Evidently, the meeting had gone well. A careless

person like me didn’t care about how it went, though

when later that night; di asked me, “How was it?”

I replied, “It was fine, I enjoyed a lot.”

But she wasn’t satisfied as I could see it from her

eyes; I wonder why girls have mouth, if eyes are all

who do the talking part. I have tried the same a lot of

times with all my teachers in class during the oral

sessions but failed badly. And then they think boys

are dumb; talking from eyes rather than mouth is not

dumb in their world.

But rather then telling di about the whole thing, I

decided to play it dumb and waited for her to ask

again. But to my surprise, it wasn’t Anusha di this

time, it was the unpredictable Amrita. I never dreamt

she will also like to be involved in this thing, but as

they say “Better a bad company, then left alone”. So I

told them about the whole thing. After knowing the

whole episode, the only part they had question about

was the street hawker.

“He took you to a street hawker? What a

shame!”Anusha said. (Rolling her eyes along with

sentence, which I was unable to interpret as usual.)

“Actually, (as he said before taking me there that this

will be the best thing you’ll eat) I think it was

awesome, really awesome. I liked kachori. And I

never had such kachori from any shop where mom-

dad have taken us.” I replied.

“Was it really good?”

“No, I’m an idiot; I don’t know what I’m talking about.

Aur kya, told you na, that it was awesome.” I replied

frustrated. She was really convinced for first part, no

idea about the second one.

I met him again after some days, at di’s school. There

school had arranged some kind of competition or

something. The main purpose of me being there was

just to meet him only, meet him to enjoy in their

school.

It’s said, “Students look good in uniforms.” Believe

me, if you want to prove this wrong to anyone, please

take Mr. Motiguj with you. I started asking him a lot

of questions like where was he from, Where have he

done his schooling before this school and other

questions of all sorts. My sister was with us now to

take me back home, while leaving, he asked me one

thing, “why were you asking me so many questions?”

I wanted to reply, just time pass. But instead I said, “ I

want to write a sanyas on you.” As soon as I finished

last sentence, both of them started giggling. I was

wondering for the reason and then di hit me slowly

on my head and said, “Idiot, sanyas nahi upnayas.”

Some of the amusing moments of your life may turn

to be truth, I realize that now. The future may not be

inevitable, but there are reasons for everything that

keeps happening around you. I’ll conclude this little

chapter with the words of Steve Jobs, “You can’t

connect the dots looking forward; you can only

connect them looking backwards...”

Chapter 5- Dots looking forward…

I love to skip between the classes to tell you about the

results of the final exams. After listening to the

gossips of Anusha di all nights, I used to be rather

more excited about her result than mine. So the time

was here, but this time it was different. The 1 mark

difference of September exams was exaggerated up to

10 marks in the board exams. May be they are right,

may be the board exams are hard. But if it wasn’t of

10 marks, anusha di would’ve stood first in Bathinda.

And yes, as its evident ‘The Motiguj’ was first in

district.

A kid‟s world is small, till that time I had never heard

about Non-medical, Medical, Commerce let alone

hearing about JEE and AIEEE. It‟s humorous that at that

time I didn‟t even know about the difference between a

city and a district. Funny it may sound, but it‟s confusing

really. I had never known or never listened about

someone in my proximity who had topped a state, and

this very much reflects how the world of a kid from a

small town is. I saw a tiny article on him in the next

day‟s newspaper. It wasn‟t like I used to read newspaper

everyday on my breakfast table but that day, dad showed

me that article. A state level cricket player, district

topper, what is this guy? So basically, he was kind of a

hero in my eyes. I won‟t say he was my inspiration, „coz

I don‟t think anyone in this world can inspire me except

my dad. And also, in those days I had a funny habit of

not accepting as inspiration, rather taking it a challenge

if that was in academic field. So the goal for my 10th

class board exam was set.

I forgot to tell about my results that year though, I did

fine. I was 6th

-7th

in class again which was quite

satisfying for me, but not for mom-dad. I tried, but it

wasn‟t like I can stop the top 6 from studying more than

me (though I always wished for the same). The topper of

our class was a girl, girl named „Rinki‟. As all the

toppers are, she was also a regular student; I can‟t recall

any time when she missed a word during the oral

sessions. Unlike the toppers, she didn‟t use to wear

spectacles and she wasn‟t a book-worm too. She was

rather a good looking girl (not as in the girls who wear

specs or book-worms are not beautiful). I, with some of

my fellow friends was quite critic in those days. Tell me,

the reason you give to your parents and sometimes to

yourself also for not being a topper; very easy to guess,

isn‟t it? We always say, they by-heart everything and I

understand everything, and mom, understanding is more

important than coming first in class. I can guarantee that

in most of the cases this is not true and even if it is, then

remember my friend, by-hearting takes more effort than

understanding. And if someone works hard enough to by

heart things, then at least he/she deserves the position.

But still in those moments, to save my respect I used to

use the same reason. And yes, I had an untold and

unrealized crush on her just like some of the guys of our

class. And no, I won‟t fall madly and endlessly in love

with her later in my life. Due to my two elder sisters, I

was good in talking to girls. Rinki was a very good

friend of mine. And she was the first girl I ever had

feelings about.

I remember that my di was second in the class, and

frankly it didn‟t matter to me (as I knew she‟s

intelligent). But it was 10th

board result, there‟s always

hush-hush about it. Dad was quite satisfied with her

performance, and I also knew that from all of us, he

loved her the most. Like most of the toppers of bathinda

city, it was decided that she‟s going to take Non-Medical

i.e. PCM as her subjects in her secondary classes. I also

came to know that there were no classes held for them in

schools (a thought of which used to please my mind). All

the courses were covered in the coaching institutes. After

roaming in the streets for hours on various evening to

evenings, dad and she decided to opt for best ones. All

three of us knew that they were quite costly according to

dad‟s budget but dad will never show us a sign of it. So,

the secondary classes started.

This time it was me who was curious to know about his

where about. Anusha di told me that he has also taken

PCM. The funny coincidence was that they both had

tuitions at the same lecturers or maybe they both opted

for the best ones. I was convinced that there was

something going on, but the fact that they both were in

different batches and had different timings for their

tuitions couldn‟t be neglected.

There was an unexplained mystery going on at home too.

It was about the phone bills, we were getting the

maximum bills we had ever paid since the time we

installed a landline at home. Dad used to believe that it

was BSNL cheating on us, as we had heard the same

about most of the other people in our street from our

street aunty. The street aunty used to know it all, all

about the conspiracies in the neighborhood, about the

conspiracies in central and state govt., It was like she had

a mini CBI squad for this purpose and it was quick,

quicker than the one the govt. had.

The pressure of secondary classes was a lot, di used to

study in night up to 3 A.M. and so did I and amrita di,

just to accompany her with our talks. She had tuitions all

day long and I could tell she was studying hard. Those

were the times when di told me about AIEEE and JEE. I

was from middle class family who always had felt the

shortage of funds; she was quite familiar with my

mentality too. So she had found the best way to explain

me, she said that the both exams were meant for

engineering entrance, for those who want to become

engineer. The difference between the AIEEE and IIT-

JEE engineers was the fact that the initial salary of

AIEEE qualified engineer is about 30k per month, and

that of IITian is 50k per month. The last sentence was

the one which had played the most important part in me

choosing my career path.

Amrita and Anusha di had a diary dedicated to shaayari

and poems which I believe most of girls have. I was

going through some of the quotes in that, and just then I

noticed „17th

October‟ written on some of the quotes. As

a born CIA detective, I tried to find some inter-relation

between all of them but all in vain. I couldn‟t, then I

asked about it to Anusha di. She said they had farewell

preparations that day in ninth; and they‟re marked so that

they can easily point them out if needed to comment on

teachers. It sounded quite reasonable, so it seemed like

end of the quest. But when I thought over it in coming

days, I realized that there is something black in the lintel.

One, our year end in March so how could the farewell be

on 17th

October? Two, some of the quotes marked with

17th

October weren‟t even written at that time. So instead

of asking di directly I decided to ask her after a month.

After a month, she gave me some other reason as I had

already suspected. But when I told her that she said

something else last time, she cleverly snapped back at

me telling that she was lying before and now she‟s

telling me truth. And hence, mystery behind 17th

October

was yet to be unfolded. And as it happens with most of

the miserable cricket losses of Indian cricket team, I also

forgot about it.

I was in 10th

now, again with „ok‟ result and di in 12th

.

But our study habits were still the same, though the

percentage of study in it had increased a bit. I was

aiming for district topper position this time as a grudge

towards motiguj. Bathinda coaching institutes used to

offer two types of coaching for PCM in those times. One

they will consider the CBSE XII board exam pattern and

in other, AIEEE/JEE Exam pattern (called there as

„multiples coaching‟). Generally students used to get

both of them by paying dual fees i.e. 22k per subject,

making it 66k for 3 subjects. Dad tried but was unable to

pay for anusha di‟s multiples fees, which meant she was

liable for „not so good‟ performance in engineering

entrances.

My 10th

class was quite a good memories „coz this is the

only year when you realize how good the school days are

and how important the friends you make in school time

are. It‟s amazing that no matter how good friends you

make in your later life, but the ones from the school are

always closest to heart. Di had told me that its too hard

to qualify for IIT from Bathinda, so I was studying for

FIITJEE entrance exam in m 10th

class. The syllabus of

Punjab board was very limited, so I always had to read a

lot of high standard books then the ones from Punjab

board. Consequently, I used to ask too many silly or

irrelevant questions to my science teachers, which

sometimes were good also (only now I realize how hard

it must be for them to control themselves). This habit of

argument with teachers most of the time used to lead me

to one on one fight with teachers, but you always know it

can never end good as for teachers there are always some

„chamcha‟ students who will do anything for good

marks. So in general, the fair one on one fight with

teachers always resulted in an unfair argument. I used to

dream to fight with teacher when grades are „not on the

table‟.

Being the only brother of my two sisters I was quite

good in talking to girls. I never had any problem like

how to talk with them and what to talk with them. In

terms of my class friends, I never used to feel a

difference if I‟m talking with a boy or a girl.

I cleared up the FIITJEE entrance, but dad told me that

it‟s too hard to live alone in Delhi for you and it‟s too

much costly, and he won‟t be able to afford it. That was

the time when I first felt, “Man! I need money, lots of

that!” And just life Will Smith, I was out there in pursuit

of happyness. Not that I was not happy then, but I was

always greedy

One of the very different things about some individual‟s

of India is that they have no idea what their passion is?

No Idea about what they love to do? The reason behind

it is quite clear from my story till now. I loved things

which I had missed in my life to be there for my future.

„Passion‟ is a big word, and youngsters in India, (the

ones which are like me) misunderstand it easily. You can

be passionate about something only when you know a lot

about something and you are best among your friends in

that. „Passion‟ is merely a word coined for interest and

you may be interested in something only if you know

what is it, and you are passionate about it only if you are

not able to stop yourself to learn more about it.

What‟s my passion? This is the question which have

bothered me all my life (till now). I am no different than

most of the kids in India, I dream of doing something

big, something different because it‟s too easy to be lost

in 1.5 billion around myself. So let me conclude this

chapter which started from stuff about di and concluded

with a lot of stuff about myself like a news channel..

“What‟s the key to connect the dots? What‟s the reason

behind the unexplained mysteries at home? Will I‟ll be

able to find my passion and establish my goals?”

To know about it, read the next chapters or it will look

better this way “jaan-ne ke liye padhna jaari rakhe!”