MINI STORIES MANY -- 04

THE GAMES TWO SISTERS PLAYED

(By Subbaram Danda)

Kusum entertained grand desires.  She wanted to live like a princess.    Her lifestyle should be the envy of everyone around.  She was prepared to do anything to realize her dreams.  Just 25 years old, she wondered how some of her neighbours had overnight become rich.    When would she strike gold?  

The realities of her current position were starkly different.  She was the wife of an ordinary farmer in a village near Delhi.  She had a mother-in-law and a one-year-old boy to look after.   A small tiled house, a three-acre farmland and a few head of cattle were all they possessed.  She was a middle school drop-out.

Kusum’s elder sister Rashmi was lucky.  She was ravishingly beautiful.   Captivated by her looks, a rich businessman’s son had married her.   A chartered accountant, he was a partner in a leading auditors firm, which had offices in all major business centres of the world.  He headed the Dubai unit and took her there with him.   Rashmi’s letters and photographs of her lavish ways of living added fuel to the fire of Kusum’s aspirations.

Tower of delights

When Burj Khalifa, the world’s tallest building at 2,723 feet, came up, Rashmi’s husband purchased a swanky residential suite in it and moved in there.   She invited Kusum to spend a week with her and arranged for her travel documents and tickets.

Kusum was thrilled at the opportunity of visiting one of the wealthiest cities in the world.  For the first time in her life she boarded a plane.   From Dubai airport she was driven to her sister’s home in a six-door limousine.   En route the sight of innumerable skyscrapers in incredible shapes made her feel she was in a world of fantasy.

She spent a full day savouring the delights of Burj Khalifa.  Its 160-plus storeys, extensive architectural embellishments, posh restaurants, fitness facilities, azure swimming pools and dancing fountains amazed her.  She was awe-struck by the Dubai Mall, a part of the Burj complex with over 1,200 outlets for shopping, entertainment and leisure activities.  The Dubai Aquarium and Underwater Zoo, twin attractions of the mall, featured a long acrylic walkthrough tunnel providing incredible close encounters with the marine species and a rendezvous with rare denizens.  The high-speed elevators of the main tower were themselves marvellous.  As she entered one and moved up whisper-free, its floor-to-ceiling glass walls all around enabled her to take an awesome view of the city’s landmarks, the desert and the sea.   At the observation deck at level 124 called “At the Top” she walked along its entire perimeter and felt she was on top of the world.   In the night from her sister’s suite at level 100 she could view sparkling lights of the buildings below and the twinkling stars above. 

The sights and thrills

Rashmi and Kusum spent the next few days sight-seeing.   The famous mosque in the Jumeirah area and Burj Al Arab, the luxury hotel with its unique sail-boat architecture, were picturesque.   Shopping at the “City Centre” mall, Gold and Spice Souks was a memorable experience.   The night cruise on the Dubai Creek, a major salt water channel that divides the city, in an ornately-crafted sturdy Arab boat with dinner thrown in, proved a fantasy trip.  The “Desert Safari,” a roller-coaster drive in a four-wheel land cruiser up and down steep sand dunes, was excitingly spine-chilling.   Watching the spectacle of the sun sinking below the desert horizon amidst fiery colours in the sky was exhilarating.

 

On returning to her village, Kusum became doubly determined that she should do something to change her fate.   She wanted to uncover the secret behind the riches of her neighbours, but they would not oblige her.  She decided to tap her friend Leela living a kilometre away, who had also made millions within a few years.   She was only five years older than her.

Rolling in riches

One evening Kusum walked to Leela’s house, an architect-designed compact but elegant bungalow with a nice garden.  After sipping tea in a silver cup Kusum broached the subject.   Her friend was helpful.   “It is all simple.  But you should have grit, determination, patience and confidence.”  Moving closer to her, she whispered a lot in her ear.   Kusum was flabbergasted.   “Fantastic,” she exclaimed, “it looks like a mantra to roll in riches.   I am sure I can also do it.”

Next day Kusum told her husband:  “I want to take some burden off your slender shoulders.  I am going to get lucrative work in Delhi, thanks to my friend Leela, who has recently become affluent.   Let the mother-in-law take care of our child till I come back.”

The man was aghast.  She did not disclose to him her real plans.   She just told him, “I will let you know everything once I settle down there.  I seek your co-operation.”   The next day Kusum left for Delhi carrying a letter from Leela.

The far side

In Dubai, Rashmi and her husband led a happy life, each caring immensely for the other.  Every now and then they went on a holiday.   They visited all the constituents of the United Arab Emirates and almost every country in Europe.  Rashmi could not have asked for more. 

However, one problem tormented them.  Though they got married several years ago, they were childless.  They consulted a leading lady doctor of Indian origin specializing in fertility matters.   Tests and scans disclosed no physical abnormality in either of them.   She referred Rashmi to a psychiatrist.   After some personality and attitudinal tests, he subjected her to counselling. The first two of five sessions were of no consequence.  During the third one, when he was making a suggestion, she screamed, “Oh, no, I don’t want to conceive.  I hate getting pregnant.  I am mortally scared of carrying and the process of delivery.  That is why I have been skillfully avoiding the advances of my husband during those vital days in a month.  I love him alright.”   The remaining sessions failed to produce any impact on her.

  

The psychiatrist’s report provided details of Rashmi’s confessional outbursts on her attitude towards pregnancy and how the conselling sessions proved futile.   It shocked and angered her husband.  But he kept his cool.  The psychiatrist recommended further intensive treatment.  However, the fertility expert provided a different perspective.   She advised them:  “You don’t have to despair.  You can have a baby biologically born to you two.  But it will be carried and delivered by another woman called a surrogate.  To use the modern terminology, it is outsourcing pregnancy.  If you opt for it, how it actually works will be explained to you at the hospital performing the procedure.”

She pointed out: “For several high-flying women this is currently the preferred mode of begetting a baby, though they and their husbands are perfectly fit physically.  It is like getting one’s own child by placing an order.   Their reason is simple – in this fast age, when they are occupying top positions, they don’t like going around carrying for ten long months.  In fact, it is slowly becoming the fashion of the day!”

Most desired destination

The doctor continued:  “This is one of the miracles of modern medicine.  Surrogate pregnancy has several variations.  The first surrogate birth, a baby girl, was reported in the United States in 1986.  Since then thousands of births have taken place globally.  In India the first one was in 1994.   In recent years the country witnessed rapid progress and is now the most sought-after destination for couples worldwide opting for this procedure.”

The two listened to her carefully.  She went on:  “According to an unofficial estimate, about 1,000 fertility clinics in India out of a large number have developed expertise in surrogate procedures to assist child-seeking couples in this way.  More than 2,000 surrogate births take place every year.  It is currently a highly flourishing industry.  Anand, a town in Gujarat, has acquired the reputation of being the surrogate capital of the world.”

The specialist, however, warned them:  “One should be very careful in choosing a clinic for the purpose.  Bogus advertisements and touts are aplenty.  There have been dreadful failures and untoward developments. If you are interested, I can refer you to a renowned hospital in Mumbai, where the doctors and the staff are really capable and truly devoted.  Without any hassles, you will have your own sweet baby delivered to you.   But be prepared.  It is expensive, though significantly cheaper than elsewhere in the world.”

The procedure

Without losing much time, Rashmi and her husband visited the Mumbai hospital recommended by the Dubai specialist.  After going through their medical reports and subjecting them to new tests, a senior doctor told them:  “In your case it is going to be what we call gestational surrogacy.  Under this procedure, sperms of the husband will be fused in-vitro (in the lab) with the eggs extracted from the wife.   When a fertilized egg becomes an embryo, it will be placed in the womb of a surrogate, who has already been screened and prepared for the purpose.  She will go through the full course of pregnancy.”

The doctor explained further:  “The surrogate mother will stay in our residential homes for better monitoring.  She will get necessary food and medicines, including vitamins and nourishing supplements.  Her own children can stay with her and her husband can also visit her periodically.  She will sign an agreement that after delivery, she will hand over the baby to the biological parents.”

About expenses he said:  “We have different packages, which will cover doctor fees, test charges, costs of mother’s accommodation, food and medicines, delivery and legal expenses.  You can pay the amount in installments also.  A high rated package will ensure a high level of comfort for the surrogate.  You pay nothing else.”

He continued:  “We have on our registers about 100 would-be surrogates, all medically and psychologically screened.   You can meet and choose any one of them.   If you desire, we can also suggest the best woman suited to you.”

Confidentiality sought

Rashmi and her husband opted for the most expensive package of Rs.15 lakhs.   Half of it would go to the surrogate mother and for her upkeep.  They wanted the doctor to select her.  She could belong to any religion or caste.  Even after the delivery, they would take care of her interests.   Money was no constraint for them.  They would meet her at the time of taking delivery of the baby.   Rashmi’s husband was particular that the matter be kept a closely-guarded secret, as he did not want to expose his wife’s reservations on pregnancy at least for a while.  They stayed in the hospital only for the days of the procedure involving them and then rushed back to Dubai.

When they received reports that the entire implantation process went off well and the surrogate mother was making good progress they felt jubilant.  They sent clothes, gifts, sweets and flowers to her.  

Two days before the projected delivery date, Rashmi and her husband arrived in Mumbai.  Early in the morning on the predicted day, they received a call that a baby girl was born to them.   “The infant is very healthy, cute and charming.  The mother is also doing well.   She is waiting to meet you both.”  Their joy knew no bounds.

The climax

The two rushed to the hospital.  The resident medical officer led them to the room where the surrogate and the baby were resting.   It looked like a cosy suite in a star hotel.  They entered the inner enclosure and what they saw there stunned them.   The surrogate mother was none other than Kusum.  She was also shocked.

For a few moments they kept looking at each other in disbelief.  Then smiles lit up their faces.  Kusum kissed the baby, as tears swelled in her eyes, and handed it over to her sister.  The little one appeared to smile oblivious of the mysterious ways of the world around.  

The next day Kusum disclosed to her sister what all happened.  “In my anxiety to become rich at any cost, I applied to this hospital’s branch in Delhi to be a surrogate mother.  After extensive tests they accepted me.  They also called my husband and got his consent. I stayed there waiting for my turn.  Within a fortnight the chief doctor asked me whether I would be interested in moving to Mumbai for a surrogate pregnancy.  I was their choice because I had everything they were looking for.  I accepted the offer as the terms were very attractive.  Immediately I shifted here, though my own child remained in the village.  My experience here has been very pleasant.  The rest is history.”

Soon, at the invitation of Rashmi and her husband, Kusum and all members of her family relocated to Dubai.   One day, while fondling the baby, Kusum crooned, “I am very lucky.  My dream has come true sooner than expected.”   The baby smiled back as if refuting her claim.  The little beauty appeared to convey, “I am the luckiest. I am enjoying the care and love of two mothers!”

September 15, 2012

(2,190 words)   



MINI STORIES MANY -- 03

MYSTERY OF THE MYSTIC

(By Subbaram Danda)

Swami Agnirudra was internationally famous.   The 55-year-old ascetic was known to possess mystical powers.  He could shape the destinies of the men and women at the helm of affairs and change of the course of life of the commoners.   First it baffled everyone.  But in course of time this incredible faculty of the sage came to be accepted as a rare supernatural phenomenon.

  

The sage had his abode in a large abandoned cave not far away from the celebrated Ellora group.  A senior disciple and a junior stayed with him, helping him in his day-to-day activities.   A band of about ten other disciples lived in an adjacent cave.   He would give audience to the people only on full moon nights.   At other times he would be inaccessible.   

The facade of the sage’s cave presented massive sculptures depicting scenes from the Hindu epics.  Some of them were half-finished.   Inside at the far end there was a sanctum sanctorum for Shiva in his aspect as linga.  

Chants and blessing

On those nights of public audience, men and women would congregate in thousands in the large open space in front of the cave.  At exactly midnight, the doors of the sanctum, brilliantly lit by innumerable antique lamps, would open.  Having completed worship, Agnirudra would emerge out of it and walk to the front with a stately gait to the strident chants of “Shivayanamaha” by the devotees.  He would raise the trident held in his right hand and wave it in a gesture of blessing.    The chants would rise to a crescendo.  This was the moment they had been waiting for.  They had come from far and wide only for this and nothing more.  After receiving the blessing, they would disperse.  They believed this was enough for their wishes to come true.

Swami Agnirudra was not involved in any controversy.  His only questionable act was to allow a few selected celebrities to have a one-on-one audience with him.  He had personally identified them through extra-sensory perception.  His reckoning was that they were the people ordained by God to design and direct the future of the country.  It was his duty to interact with them.     

One such celebrity was Desaratna, who headed a vast industrial empire.   He would consult the sage whenever he felt he was in a bind.  The sage’s advice would always put him in the right direction.  The industrialist had done a lot for the common man.  From educational institutions to multi-specialty hospitals he had built.   The downtrodden had benefitted from his munificence.   

Business hostility

Desaratna’s good tidings earned him not only the goodwill of the people but also enemies.    His immediate business adversary was Vajraguna, who owned several industrial units similar to those of the former.  The hostility between them grew relentlessly and reached a flash-point.   Vajraguna sought the services of an international stealth operations firm to get rid of him.  It was a risky move but he thought it was worth it.   He looked forward to meeting one of its top agents soon. 

Operative Kora Tragstone called on Vajraguna at the latter’s personal suite in his company’s posh guest house in Mumbai.  It had all ultra modern facilities.   The plush interiors matched the most luxurious decors anywhere in the world.

A smart hostess in a graceful silk sari offered him a mildly fragrant sandalwood garland and sought to know what drink he would like to have.  “I can prepare for you a special vodka-martini, shaken but not stirred,” she said with a smile.  He was overwhelmed by the hospitality but said he would prefer the famous Indian green tea.   In a few minutes, she brought an ornately crafted tray with a pot of green tea and cups, all sparklingly gilded, placed it on the centre table and left. 

Soon the two plunged into business.  Vajraguna told him:  “As you may know, Desaratna is our major adversary.  He is in almost every line – from pen to petrol, milk to media and cotton to computers.  He makes a huge profit every year and at the same time he shares a large chunk of it with his employees and stake holders earning their loyalty.  He keeps politicians of all hues in good humour.  He corners almost all major contracts of the government and in the process persons like me get only the crumbs.”

Tragstone helped himself to a cup of green tea.   “Splendid.  I love its bitter-sweet taste, especially the hint of honey in it,” he said sipping the beverage.

Operation elimination

Vajraguna went on:   “More important, he constantly receives the divine blessings of sage Agnirudra.  It is believed that such persons will always be successful.  We tried all methods to subdue him but failed miserably.  We want him to be out of our way.  This is our goal.  After careful consideration, we have come to the conclusion that it can be achieved by his elimination.  For this we need the help of your organization.”

Kora Tragstone listened to him carefully and took down notes.  He told him that he would check with his chief and come back in two days.  As agreed, they met again.   His favourite green tea also came. 

Kora Tragstone:  “We are happy to collaborate with you.  First of all I would like to brief you about our organization.  We function from an old castle on an isolated island in the Indian Ocean.   Our agents are stationed all over the globe. We have one of the best repositories of clandestine information on world leaders – politicians, industrialists, scientists, intellectuals, media persons, spiritual gurus, film stars, sportsmen and mafia heads.”

Vajraguna was amazed.  He listened to the operative with rapt attention as he went ahead with his mini speech.  “At any time we can access data on them including details of their health, wealth, likes, dislikes, strengths, weaknesses, passions, habits and pastimes.  We even have the vital statistics of the wives and mistresses of the male celebrities.  We store samples of their urine, blood and other fluids collected from labs where they go for tests.  We pay fabulous prices for the specimens.  They come in handy when needed.”

Tragstone poured himself a cup of green tea and took a sip.  It tasted deliciously different this time with the tingling flavour of cardamom and cinnamon mixed in it holding out.  He gulped it all in one go.

Vaults of death

He continued: “What may be more startling to you is that our special tasks unit holds in its secret vaults highly potent poisons, deadliest chemicals, killer viruses and weapons of silent destruction for field use anytime.  We employ a number of scientists, who regularly develop new products of extermination.  Our operations are result-oriented, smooth and perfect.  Our code of conduct is ruthlessly lethal.   If an operative fails, he will be killed at once.  That is why our charges are sky-high.  In your case, I have been directed to quote a figure of $500 million, nothing more and nothing less.”

Tragstone moved on:  “In our library, we have detailed accounts of Swami Agnirudra and Desaratna.  We have gone through them carefully.   Agnirudra has no bad habits.  It is true that he possesses supernatural powers.  We have a Kirlian photograph of his right palm, which displays a bright luminous halo of energy.  This is something rare.”

Vajraguna interrupted.  “Would you mind explaining what it is all about?”

Fields of glow

Tragstone:  “It is a method of capturing on film in different colours the fields of aura produced by the human body not visible to the naked eye.  Even plants and inanimate objects like coins have their own fields.   The system was developed in 1939 by Russian technician Semyon Davidovich Kirlian and later refined by researchers all over the world.   Spiritually gifted persons, geniuses and highly intelligent people generate dramatically luminous halos around them.  These people are also known to be able to transmit their energy to others, thereby helping them soften their disturbed minds.”

He cut short his speech.  “If you are game for our charges, we have a plan to make you attain your goal.  We assure you it will all be kept under wraps.”  Vajraguna nodded and said: “Fine.  Go ahead.  Your money will be deposited into your organization’s secret bank account within 24 hours.”

Tragstone: “That sounds great.  I have been assigned to this project.  Let us keep the forthcoming full moon day as our target date for accomplishing the mission.”

Stunning strategy

In a whisper he disclosed:  “Our plan is not to touch Desaratna.  Instead, we will eliminate sage Agnirudra.”  This froze Vajraguna.      

The operative elaborated: “Without Agnirudra’s support, we feel Desaratna would be a psychological wreck.  He would commit blunders.  Sooner than later his empire would crumble.  Then you would be on top of the world.”

After Tragstone left, Vajraguna’s mind started working feverishly.   Would the plan work?  A strange fear started enveloping him.

Two days later Tragstone called Vajraguna on a secure satellite-linked mobile line and said:  “We have succeeded in recruiting a senior personal disciple of Agnirudra.  He has narrated to us the daily routine of the sage.  He has agreed to do a job for us.  In the wee hours of the full moon day around 4:00 a.m. he would smear a deadly chemical powder supplied by us on the handle of the sage’s kamandal (a metallic vessel for water with a semi-circular handle at the top).  Agnirudra would touch it at about 5:00 a.m., when he commences his ritualistic prayers.   Twenty hours later -- roughly one hour after his audience with the devotees that night -- he would meet with his death leaving behind no clue.  Nothing would happen to the disciple as he has been instructed to wash his hands clean with a special solution immediately after the job.”  

Grand celebration

Only one day was left for the full moon day.  This time it was a special occasion in view of a rare celestial occurrence.    Vajraguna heard that Desaratna was making elaborate arrangements to make the event a grand affair.   He had also just completed a major project abroad as suggested by the sage and wanted to celebrate its success.  Special devotional music and holy discourses were planned.  Further, every devotee would be given a silver coin blessed by the sage. 

On the full moon day, Desaratna went to the cave abode early in the evening to personally supervise the arrangements.   He was happy that everything was in order.  Devotees started coming in large numbers.   Among several foreigners was Tragstone.  The special programmes began at 7:00 p.m.

At exactly midnight Agnirudra opened the door of the sanctum, walked to the front and stood there as usual.  Unexpectedly, he made a short speech exhorting the people to be good, as God was watching their every movement.   Righteous men would scale heights of glory, while wrong-doers would find themselves on slippery slopes of self-destruction.  There was no escape from it.  He blessed the large congregation with his trident and stepped back.  Desaratna and his men distributed silver coins to everyone, including the stealth organization’s operative.

Surprise and climax

Around 2:00 a.m. Tragstone called Vajraguna frantically and told him, “Our plan has misfired.  Instead of Agnirudra, a junior disciple has died.  I understand that after our man had smeared the chemical on the handle, this disciple in charge of keeping tidy the sage’s prayer paraphernalia saw the powder marks on it and rubbed them off with his bare hands so that the sage would not find fault with him.  It is this man who has met with the death we had planned for the sage.”  

In the morning television news channels carried the news of the mysterious death of the junior disciple.  They ran a “flash” as well:  “A foreigner named Tragstone was also found dead in the bushes near the cave abode with bullet wounds.  Investigation is on.”

(1,990 words)

August 18, 2012

                                                                     ***



MINI STORIES MANY -- 02

SHADOWS OF PLEASURE

(By Subbaram Danda)



Pratima was a brilliant student doing her final semester M.B.A. at a reputed institution in Jamshedpur.  She had just been selected at the campus interview by a renowned multinational corporation for a plum job.   She was sorry that after her examinations she would have to leave all that she loved there -- the sylvan surroundings, broad avenues and classic-style buildings.   Her great consolation was that her job was in her native city of Chennai. 

She heard that her office was in a posh new complex with all modern facilities on the outskirts of the city.   She would have a well-furnished cabin exclusively for herself.   A car would pick her up in the morning and drop her back in the evening.  Her perks, increments and all-paid vacations were the best in the industry.  

Back in Chennai, Pratima joined duty immediately.  Her boss was a decent man and talented too.  An interesting feature was that more than half of the employees were women.  Quickly she made friends with several of them, though she was not against men.    In the first week itself, she completed a task given to her exceedingly well and received a “well-done” note from her boss.  She felt she was in the right place and wanted to enjoy the carefree life of a single as long as possible.

Marriage proposal

She was taken aback one evening when her parents raised the subject of her marriage.   “We are becoming old and it is our responsibility to place you in the hands of a gentleman as early as possible.  Our broker has brought some horoscopes and we have sent them to our family astrologer for matching with yours,” they said.

Pratima had her own ideas about marriage.  It was fraught with problems from the beginning.  She could not totally go by what her horoscope would suggest.  But her parents always swore by it.  How could she join hands with a totally strange man, even if her horoscope talked of compatibility with him?   At the same time, she shuddered at the idea of dates.   

In one shot she replied, “No, let us wait for some years.   I am young and not in a hurry to have on my shoulders the burden of a family.”  For her parents her terse reply came as a bolt from the blue.  She had never retorted like that.   Was there any background to this curt response?  “No, there cannot be any.  We have brought her up in a disciplined way.  She is naïve and she wants to enjoy for a while the freedom of being a single,” they consoled themselves.

The next day she was off-colour.  In the office too, she confined herself to her cabin.  “What is the matter?  You can confide with me,” her close colleague Madhu enquired.   She narrated the whole development to her.

Thrills and frills

“Oh, that’s all!  Remain firm but polite.  Remember this is the best time of your life to enjoy what the world is going to offer – all the thrills and their frills.  If you miss them now, you will never ever get another splendid opportunity like this.   You have the best of age, looks, money and time.   In the past, we were brainwashed into accepting whatever the elders said.   But things have changed.  You can now decide what you want for yourself,” Madhu made a mini presentation.

Pratima was somewhat confused.  Madhu was only a year older than her and she also belonged to her own conservative community.  Yet, she was very daring, unlike her.   After all, there appeared to be some truth in what she said.   

A couple of years passed.  One day during lunch time, Madhu entered Pratima’s cabin and sought to know whether she would be willing to attend a party on the upcoming Friday evening.  It would be fantastic. 

“I am not a party-goer.  Basically, I don’t like such events.  Moreover, my parents would tear me to pieces.   Leave me alone,” she replied.

Credible excuse

“Look, my dear.  I will be with you.  I have participated in such programmes in the past.   You will have exotic thrills.  It will be fun.  You should shake off your reservations.  What is life without some kicks?  We can manage your parents with a credible excuse,” Madhu prodded her.

“What happens there?”

Madhu took a deep breath and said, “My contacts organize four types of parties—cocktail, rave, pheromone and bachelorette.  Each one has its own flavour.  I don’t like cocktails for the simple reason I hate the taste of liquor.  In such events, men and women gather in the evening, smoke and drink, talking rubbish openly.  Sometimes things turn violent.”

“Similarly,” she continued, “I am not for rave parties.  Here in addition to drinks, delirious drugs go round freely.  Under their influence, men and women get hallucinations and their ‘dreams’ get multiplied manifold.  They will have no control over what they do.  Once out of the ‘high,’ their castles in the air collapse.   Sooner than later they become addicts.”

Madhu went on, “The pheromone party is new to our area.  It is a pre-dating ‘smelly’ event.  Eligible girls select their likely partners by sniffing at the garments of boys made available to them.   If a girl likes the scent of a particular boy she will invite him for a date.”

Bachelorette party

“What I like and enjoy most is the bachelorette party – the local version.  All the guests are young women, selected carefully on the basis of information furnished by regulars.  Offering sheer entertainment, it is held once in three months on the eve of a week-end. The organizers add a new feature every time.  You will have to pay a fee to participate.”

Pratima kept quiet.   Madhu wanted to leave her to herself for a day.  Pratima’s mind worked feverishly on her way back home.   Her life had already become monotonous.  By attending a party nothing would happen if she was careful.  Let her take some risk and savour the flavours of life.

At home after dinner Pratima’s mother came to her bed room and said: “My dear, listen to me carefully.  We are your well-wishers.  Wedding should not be postponed.   We have been keeping an alliance pending for a while.    This is the one selected by our astrologer.  The lad Ram Kumar is a computer engineer working in Hyderabad.   We have made enquiries and he has a decent track record.  His office colleagues and relatives are all praise for him.  Here is his photograph and as you can see he looks handsome too.  Don’t reject it.”

Pratima became furious.  “No, let us not discuss my marriage.  I have told you many times.”   Her mother left the room with tears in her eyes.  

On Friday evening, Madhu came to Pratima’s house in her car and told her parents, “We are attending a birthday party of our General Manager’s wife.  We would be back by around 11:00 p.m.  Don’t worry about your daughter.   I will take care of her.”

Majestic mansion

It was a very big mansion, standing majestically at the far end of a large garden.   Parking the car as directed by a security guy, they walked on the beautifully-paved tree-lined way to the main door of the building.   They showed a card to an usher and moved inside.

Pratima was awe-struck. A large hall with a romantic ambience beckoned them.  Pink niches in purple walls displayed white statues of lovers from historic times.  The lighting with a dash of pale orange was enchanting.  A pleasing aroma emanating from the air-conditioned vents lent a dreamy touch to the place.  A circular platform at the centre had around it golden brown tables with red upholstered chairs for about 100 people. 

The two youngsters found their seats near the central stage.  Soft drinks and packets of spicy chips were there on the table.  The hall filled fast.  At exactly 7:00 p.m. the lights dimmed and psychedelic strobes started flashing all over.  A husky feminine voice on the public address system announced, “Welcome ladies.  The fun begins now.”

Extravaganza

Steamy songs by a group of young women kicked off the evening agenda.  The musical score was followed by mystifying magic, crazy comic skits, quirky mimicry and hi-octane debates.  Then raunchy dances set the stage afire.     About two hours passed.

“It is now time for the high-point of our programme,” the voice came back on the loud speaker.  The next second all the lights went off plunging the hall in total darkness.   In a moment blue spotlights focused on the stage.   A six foot handsome man with well-tended glistening muscles appeared with his hands held high in a gesture of greeting the audience.  

The spotlights dipped.  The strobes took over drenching the audience in fast-moving kaleidoscopic patterns.   Recorded high-pitched metallic music reverberated in the hall.  The man in bare necessities started grinding and gyrating.  The guests too joined thumping and clapping.  The hero moved from one number to another non-stop, cheered by the audience.   An hour rolled by fast.

It was a strange experience for Pratima.  She had never seen anything like this before.  She felt her system was getting tensed up.  Her heart was beating fast.  A peculiar fear gripped her. 

“Now is the time for the climax,” the husky voice thundered.

Ultimate thrill

Pratima clutched the hand of Madhu next to her and asked her in a hush, “What is going to happen now?”  “Watch and enjoy it,” was her derisive reply.   This scared Pratima.

The music gained tempo.  The beats grew faster and louder.  The strobe lights flashed with lightning speed.  A whiff of new intoxicating fragrance threw the guests into a near trance.  They stood up shouting “come on, come on.”  Synchronized clapping followed.   Pratima sensed that the man was going to perform something terrible.   Instantly she turned her head away from the stage and closed her eyes.  She tightened the clasp over her colleague’s hand.  Thunderous applause ensued.  Then whispers and murmurs filled the air.  Gradually the excitement subsided.

The speaker was on again.  “Now is the time for our new parting punch.  We invite dashing damsels from the audience to come and shake hands with our special performer tonight.  Each one will get a gift of Rs.5,000.”

Uneasy silence prevailed.  None got up for a while.  Madhu was the first to raise her hand, followed by five others.  They went to the stage and shook hands with the man standing like Michelangelo’s celebrated “Statue of David.”   Pratima watched this in disbelief through the corner of her half-opened left eye.

After the event, the two returned to their homes without talking much.  Pratima did not sleep that night.   “I am not made for such thrills.  I don’t want them, I don’t want them,” she kept on brooding within herself.

Turning point

Saturday was eventless.   On Sunday morning when Pratima’s mother approached her with a cup of coffee the youngster moved close to her and whispered, “Mom, you were talking about a young computer guy, you remember.  If you and father have taken a decision about the alliance, I won’t stand in the way.”  Her mother was stunned.  

Her father immediately called the broker to convey their willingness to go ahead with the alliance.  But, he nearly collapsed when he heard that Ram Kumar had just a day earlier finalized his alliance with somebody else.  Pratima felt she had lost a fortune.   

On Monday at her office she took a decision to keep Madhu at an arm’s length.   Quite unexpectedly, she barged into her cabin with a beaming face.  What she said froze Pratima. “My marriage has been finalized,” she crooned.   “The groom is a computer professional called Ram Kumar based in Hyderabad.”   

 (1,965 words)

 July 21, 2012

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MINI STORIES MANY -- 01

I have pleasure to launch a new series on this blog – MINI STORIES MANY.  Appearing periodically, each little tale will reflect an unusual problem that the society faces and the methods the people adopt to tackle it -- some bold and some queer.   Or, the fiction flick will unearth the secret games that men, women and teens play now-a-days.   Every imaginary yarn will end in a totally unexpected way.   Here comes the first mini story!  Happy reading!!

AGONY, ECSTASY AND SURPRISE

(By Subbaram Danda)

The wedding of Ramya and Prem was a grand affair.  Dainty decorations, traditional rituals, lively entertainment and exotic feasts marked the two-day event. High-flyers of Chennai from every walk of life graced the occasion lavishing on the couple pleasantries and presents.

Ramya’s designer bridal costumes at the reception lent charm to her ravishing beauty.  She was an MBA employed in a multinational corporation.  Prem’s handsome features stood out in the elegant brocade sherwani he wore.   He was an M. Tech in Information Technology from the elite Indian Institute of Technology, Chennai, heading a large team in an international software company in the city.  “Made for each other,” was the comment almost everyone made.

Blessed by gurus and elders, they began their journey of blissful married life with a honeymoon in Shimla.  The resort where they stayed offered all comforts.  The mountain range around and the various tourist attractions appeared mesmerizing.  They felt they were on top of the world! 

A few days passed and an unexpected development shook the couple.  Prem went on a short trekking expedition to a hillock nearby with a group of holidayers.  He hit a rock, slipped, fell, rolled a few feet down but quickly managed to hold the ground.  He was hospitalized for two days.  After treatment for pain in the groin region he was discharged. 

A vacuum

On returning home, the couple wanted to treat the mishap as a bad dream and went about their routines as usual.  The wheel of time moved fast.  Suddenly, they realized that a strange vacuum was building up between them.   Yes, their efforts to have a child eluded them.   However, their love for each other remained undiminished. 

Their relatives and friends started making enquiries why they were postponing having a child.  Day by day the pressure mounted.  Finally, they decided to check with a leading doctor without the knowledge of their elders.  They underwent tests and more tests.  Ultimately, the medical report came and it shattered their dreams.   Prem would not be able to beget a child, on account of the fall he had while trekking in Shimla.     

That night Prem was in tears.   He pleaded guilty before his wife.   But Ramya was courage and confidence personified.  She consoled and comforted him.  “Never mind.  It is not your fault.  We can adopt a child,” she tried to pacify him.  “I promise my love for you will remain the same,” she assured him.   He took her into his arms and kissed her passionately. 

Expert advice

Quietly they both got a transfer to Bangalore and set up their family there.  Days and weeks passed.   One fine morning Prem bunked his office without the knowledge of his wife and went to a famous fertility clinic.  The chief andrologist went through his medical reports, examined him thoroughly and advised him: “Yes, you cannot become a father.  But, there is nothing to despair.   You can adopt a child.   Better still, your wife can receive donor sperms and conceive as in the normal course.   What is important is that you should first make up your mind and then convince your wife.  It should not be impossible.  Think it over carefully.”

That night he was totally distraught.  He did not like his dinner.  Ramya sensed his odd behaviour and asked him inquiringly, “Tell me honestly what happened today.  Whatever it is, I have the capacity to take it.”

As they went to bed, Prem opened up and disclosed what transpired at the fertility clinic.  After a short pause he added, “I feel you should consider the doctor’s suggestion.”   Her reaction was violent.  She threw a pillow at him and shouted, “What do you mean?  I cannot accept artificial insemination.  Let your doctor go to hell.   Though my outlook in life is modern, I immensely value our traditions and practices.   I cannot receive somebody else in my womb. You and only you are for me.  Remember the vows we have taken at our wedding invoking the divinity.  We have to remain loyal to each other through thick and thin.”

The next day they did not speak to each other and went to their respective offices mechanically.  Surprisingly, in the evening when Ramya returned home she appeared somewhat mellowed.  She had a discreet talk with her best friend in the office and also managed to meet a religious guru. What they told her had an impact on her attitude.

Changing mood

She was crying when Prem came back.  Controlling herself she hugged him and said, “More than me you seem to be highly distressed.   I don’t like to see you that way.   You are very important to me.   I have decided to agree to the procedure suggested by your doctor.”   Prem’s face reflected a strange glow. 

The couple had a session with the clinic’s psychologist.  He counselled them:  “Gone are the days when people had reservations about the new treatment.   Our regulations do not allow you to know whose sperms you are going to receive and similarly the donor cannot find out who the recipient is.”

The andrologist joined them:  “We store hundreds of specimens in a process called cryo-preservation at temperatures of minus 196 degrees Centigrade, having collected them from men in the age group of 18 to 40 after vigorous screening for ailments and defects.  The procedure of implantation called “Donor Insemination” is simple in the hands of an experienced specialist and not expensive either.   Specimens received even 28 years ago are being used now with highly successful results.”

He went on: “We can make available to you anonymous profiles of donors listed on the basis of their height, weight, colour, educational background, achievements, blood type, ethnicity and religion.  You can make your own choice.”

Final selection

Ramya and Prem spent a week going through the profiles online and finally selected the specimen of an Information Technology-studied Indian youngster for the simple reason that his attributes matched those of Prem. 

At the fertility clinic on a day suggested by the physician, Ramya underwent the procedure.  “It is a great success.  All the best,” the doctor wished her.  True to his words, she conceived without any complication.

The joy of the couple’s parents and relatives knew no bounds.  They were under the impression that her conception was in the normal course.   A function to celebrate the baby shower saw the likes of the wedding of Ramya and Prem. 

On the predicted day, to the delight of everyone, Ramya delivered a baby boy with chubby cheeks and rosy lips.  “He looks exactly like his father,” many visitors praised the new-born.   The husband and wife received the remarks with a smile but were amused.

Affection unlimited

Ramya and Prem took care of the boy extra-ordinarily well.   They loved the little new member of the family without any reservation.  She resigned her job to be with the child round the clock.  Toys, garments and fancy items of every kind were purchased to pamper the baby.

The boy, named Teja, grew up enjoying the love and affection of his parents in abundance.  From school to college he moved.   An intelligent lad, his academic achievements brought further sunshine into the family.

The boy had an uncle in Chennai.  There was a function in the latter’s house and the entire family of Teja attended it.   After the ceremony the uncle called the boy to his room and told him, “I don’t know whether you are aware of a secret about you.  Prem is not your biological father.  You were born to your mother through donor insemination.  I am the only person knowing this fact other than your parents.   Your mother had confided it with me, as she and I are very close to each other.”

Teja felt he was being lashed and tossed by a storm.  He wanted to cry out loud but controlled himself.  He maintained an eerie silence. 

Search for truth

On returning home, he confronted his parents head-on.  “Is it true?  Tell me the truth,” he cried, as tears rolled out of his reddish eyes.   Ramya took him into her arms, wiped his tears and nodded.   As she opened her mouth to narrate how it all happened, a thunder of grief struck her.  The next moment she swooned. She regained her consciousness after a while and made an effort to disclose everything but Prem did not allow her to strain herself.

The next few days Teja’s mind was a devil’s workshop.   He wondered whether at least Ramya was his real mother.  Or was he their adopted son?  He was in no mood to trust them anymore.  He wanted scientific proof.

He sought DNA tests to ascertain whether there was any biological link between him and the two.  They reluctantly agreed. 

Wonder of wonders

The DNA report startled them.  It stated clearly that Ramya and Prem were both his biological parents!   For Teja, it was like a delightful shower on a sizzling summer day.   His joy knew no bounds.  He swore to finish off his uncle for all the lies he had uttered.  But Ramya and Prem were aghast.   “How could it be,” they wondered in silence.

That night Prem’s mind raced back in time.   It was his final year M.Tech. at IIT.  There was an advertisement in a magazine asking for donor sperms from senior students.   He was one among many who donated.  Could it be his own sperms that fertilized his wife?  But something puzzled him.  His donation was in Chennai and his wife underwent insemination in Bangalore.

The next day, he made enquiries at the fertility clinic citing the terrible havoc that the insemination had caused in his family.   On great persuasion the andrologist, who was still in service, checked old records and disclosed that the clinic had at that time received some samples from Chennai and the specimen used to impregnate Ramya was indeed Prem’s.

At dinner time Prem narrated to Teja, as Ramya listened intently, the story of his college adventures and his subsequent marital voyage with all its turns and twists.   A pall of uneasy quiet enveloped them and then a burst of laughter splintered the silence. 

(1,700 words)

June 23, 2012.

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