9 Days in Rubble.

Part – II

The blood on my wounds had dried up. I was able to breathe a little easy as the gap was now wider. I could not see any spider around me anymore. The insects seemed to have forgotten my wounds too. I was very hungry as usual but I was used to this fact. I thanked God for making me get into this habit of chewing Gutkha. I had to cry again as I was thirsty, I drank the water and missed Ganesh.

I could sense a lot of movements above me. The voices had become clearer now; I was quite thrilled to hear a woman’s voice amongst the noise. I concentrated harder and I could hear my wife’s voice. The same wife I had from my arranged marriage four years ago. I closed my eyes again and decided to entertain myself by playing Sholay in my mind.

They were all there, Gabbar, Jai, Veeru, Samba etcetera. They did what they had to and entertained me for the next couple of hours. By the time it was over I was feeling breathless all over again and to my horror I realized the air gap had been closed. There was no air, no inhaling. “Ganesh! Savitri!” I shouted at the peak of my voice in vain. I searched around and found the spider that had attacked me some days ago there, I somehow got the guts to pick it up in my hands, place it near the air-hole and cover it, so that it had just the passage to move on. The spider panicked and the spider-man was excited. But the eight legged bastard had to find a way out. It started clearing the mud in the passage much to my delight. After a couple of minutes the passage had been cleared by my new friend, my new eight legged friend. He was free and I had free air. I decided to buy a spider-man T Shirt in memory of my friend.

The reason why there was mud through the passage of air was because the bulldozers had arrived. I wanted them to work faster and get me out of there. Cool breeze made its way through the passage which meant that night had arrived. I ate 2 tiny pieces of areca nut, cried, quenched my thirst and slept. I had spent 7 days in that hole. Shah Rukh’s movie had released, the union budget was declared and India had already played 2 ODI’s with Pakistan during these days. I had crapped thrice in these 7 days, played DDLJ and Titanic in my mind and I had missed Savitri a zillion times. She was up there, 30 feet above.

That night I could not sleep. Hunger was overtaking my will power and my legs were in great pain. My back hurt and a couple of flies feasted on my dried wound. I took my 3 ten rupee notes and made them moist with my tears and realized it could be my best dinner. I had a ten rupee note for main course, a couple of areca nut for desert, cried, drank water and slept.

The next day I could hear a couple of voices very clearly as I woke up to more breathing problems. The air gap was now closed but the voices kept me through. There were two voices, I could clearly here them saying “Aur 4 feet, aur 4 feet”. Was I actually 4 feet away from Savitri and the world? I again held Ganapati in my hand and prayed.

After 167 Jai Ganapatis I saw a couple of men trying to remove the stones near my legs. I was there, I made it. I could see my boss and Ganesh standing far. I was alive! I survived! I realized that I had lost my right leg but I did not cry. My tears had dried up and I had new found respect for life. Ganesh gave me a water bottle with cold water in it, smiled and said “Sorry sir, thoda late hua”

I smiled and held Savitri in my arms. She was one of the main reasons why I had survived. I wanted to help her making my house, a home. I wanted to live everyday and acknowledge every single moment I spent with her. I wanted to have kids with her, grow old with her and die in her arms. It might sound too much like a fairy tale but I wanted to do all that. She was my wife. It took 9 days in rubble to change this arranged marriage to a love marriage.

“Spider! Spider!” she shouted as I held her and looked down. I saw a big black spider near my feet as he made his way to the rubble again.

9 Days in Rubble.

9 Days in Rubble.

Prologue

The spider was now within my sight, it was black and big, I felt this was my end. There were 236 species of spiders whose bite meant death. The odds of me getting out alive out of this, was very thin. I tried to move my ankle and hurt it. The spider was now on my chest, I could feel its eight legs through my chest hair, the eight legged bastard had no mercy on me, he moved slowly over my neck and entered straight into my moustache. The air I breathed out seemed to disturb its tempo. That was it! I had to breathe out hard. Huff! Huff! I breathed real hard. The spider held his legs strong but he could not fight me after some time. He gave up. He got down my neck and I was relieved to see his back. Huff!

Part – I

It was 7’o clock in the morning when I got up. Lord Ganapati looked at me from 16 different pictures. I folded my hands, said “Jai Ganapati!” and got up.

“Savitri, Tea?” I shouted as I closed the door to take bath.

My work didn’t interest me much; I was very reluctant towards life in general. I earned just enough for my family which consisted of my wife Savitri and me.

“Tea is on the table” said Savitri as she tried to tie her hair which smelt of coconut oil, with a hairpin. The morning news echoed through the street thanks to Sharma’s over loud TV. I did not own one although it was Savitri’s dream since 6 months. I had my dad’s small radio whose batteries died as soon as my father’s did. Anyway, I wore my pants, shirt and took my helmet.

Savitri had tried a lot to make my house a home after our marriage while all I did was nothing. I was married to Savitri three years back thanks to the concept of arranged marriage. I kick started my moped looked at Savitri who tried to acknowledge my departure. I sighed & went away.

I reached the place after half an hour, parked my moped and walked towards my workplace. I was standing right in front of a board which read “This building is being built by Ratnakar Builders.” I was working here for the last 4 years.

“Santhosh!” said Anand as I wore my yellow worker helmet. “Site No 2 today! Be careful!” Shouted Anand, as he handed me the paper.

“Ok!” I said and took the paper.

I walked towards the site I was assigned and asked Ganesh to get me a glass of water. He was the only person who worked below me.

The site where I was supposed to work was a building with 3 floors which was partially built. My job was to go to the top of the building and make sure enough water had been used to make the building better. I reached the terrace, looked around and stood at a place waiting for Ganesh to quench my thirst. It was after a couple of minutes later that I saw Ganesh running with a Bisleri bottle in his hand. That was the last time I saw him.

35 seconds later

The site no 2 at Ratnakar Buildings had been converted to a heap of rocks. I was stuck below it, still thirsty, very thirsty.

I opened my eyes; I could not move myself which made me think I was dead. I tried to breathe and I could, I was still alive. I tried to shout blowing off some dust on my shirt; I was not able to move an inch. Suddenly all I could think was about my Savitri. I missed her tremendously, I was expecting the rescue operations to start in a couple of hours but nothing happened. I was anyway just a worker there. I was not able to feel my leg. It was dark all around as the thought of Savitri still lingered on.

I tried to reach my pockets and found a comb, a Gutkha packet, thirty one rupees and a photo of Ganapati. I started feeling hungry as I realized that the damn Gutkha packet was my only option to satisfy my hunger. I tried to look if I still had the wristwatch my father in law gave, but it was broken. Obviously I dint know what time it was. To my rescue there was a thin passage of light and I felt fresh air come in. I was beneath a 30 feet high building and all I had was a packet of Gutkha and mud to eat. My legs started hurting; it had been a long time since I was stuck, motionless. Cool air blew through the air gap which meant it was night time. It was completely dark inside and I could not see a thing. I was in tremendous pain; I ate a couple of pieces of arecanut from the packet of Gutkha. I was in tears, and I realized I could drink my tears, so I had to direct my tears to my tongue as my hands could not move. I did it; I drank the water, took a look at Lord Ganapati and prayed. Gutkha and a couple of tears were my dinner that night as I thought of Savitri, Amma, Pappa and slept.

Day 2 and day 3 I had already realized that I had lost my right leg and half of my Gutkha packet was over. There was a mixed smell of sweat, dust, blood and urine in there. I took my comb, held it within my fingers and tried to move some mud from my hip area so that I could make more space for myself. I could occasionally hear noises coming out of my stomach. On the night of the 3^rd day I realized I had crapped in my pants, the extra space I had created with the comb was useful now. It gave me all the space I needed. My “compartment” now smelt of sweat, dust, blood, urine and my crap. I kept the packet of Gutkha near my nose to avoid the stink, had my “dinner” and went to sleep.

The next day I woke up realizing that I had an open wound and I was lying motionless. The wound was open for them to feast on. I wished I had Savitri’s mosquito repelling spray. She had always kept it in the corner of the bathroom but it was away, far far away. Meanwhile a couple of flies were already on my wound. I tried to move my legs and kicked a rock out of frustration hurting my leg badly. I shouted and I cried a lot that day which meant I drank a lot of water. I thought of something, unzipped my pants and let them down to cover my wound. It worked. I cried out “Savitri!” and closed my eyes.

It was four and a half days since I was stuck there and I could hear a lot of people shouting somewhere far which meant that help had arrived. I realized it might be Ganesh who might have told the rest I was in there, stuck. I was happy, I smiled. That smile was a short-lived one as I could feel something moving near my groin area. I tried to bend and see. What I saw was a spider, a big spider.

The spider was now within my sight, it was black and big, I felt this was my end. There were 236 species of spiders whose bite meant death. The odds of me getting out alive out of this, was very thin. I tried to move my ankle and hurt it. The spider was now on my chest, I could feel its eight legs through my chest hair, the eight legged bastard had no mercy on me, he moved slowly over my neck and entered straight into my moustache. The air I breathed out seemed to disturb its tempo. That was it! I had to breathe out hard. Huff! Huff! I breathed real hard. The spider held his legs strong but he could not fight me after some time. He gave up. He got down my neck and I was relieved to see his back. Huff!

That moment I felt the urge to live, I didn’t want to die. I wanted to get out there and ride my moped, sleep on my bed, smell Savitri’s hair, eat the dal roti she makes and listen to Sharma’s TV. I started crying. I held Lord Ganapati in my hands and cried. I did not drink that water. I was in there for 6 days, 6 long days. I closed my eyes and slept.

India Parks

40 Years Later - Present Day.

Today I inaugurated my 25000^th India Park which had a Taj Mahal replica inside it. On Raqeeb’s request I have changed the names of a few India Parks to Pakistan Parks. But there is a small difference here. There are no borders. I feel proud and also very weird to write that 80% of US of A is now called India Parks. All Americans prefer to stay there and have also shown keen interest in changing the rest of the area into India Parks. Naresh and Geetanjali are proud parents of 2 kids Sunil and Bharati. One of the names sounds familiar! Isn’t it?

My children Jaideep and Anusha are married to Michelle and Vijay respectively and the couples now run all the India Parks. They have been very good children to me and Madhu. Raqeeb and Zubeen have 3 children, Usmaan, Abdul and Shabana. Raqeeb now stays in Pakistan and we are very much in touch. Sharma, my engineer has constructed a huge house like the Mysore Palace for himself in one of the Parks and is staying happily with his wife and kids. I’ve heard he still uses PHD. And this is me. I’ve decided to buy a house here in Mysore and settle down, I am tired. Madhu and I need to spend some time together, so I’m signing off folks! Thank you!

The whole of SKCE was now in stunned silence. Nobody moved. Slowly Mr Venkat stood up, wiped his tears and started clapping like a kid. Vintage, that was enough. The whole of SKCE erupted. Sunil looked at the scene, smiled and said Jai Hind! It was 51 years back that he had started this journey from SKCE to IIM to India Parks, from Mysore to Koizekode to USA. This was his finale, he was back in the place he belonged to. Dinner was served in the garden in front of the Administrative office alongside a huge projector which had live TV. The news was running and what the weather man said made everybody smile. “Today most of India Parks will be dry and sunny!” Needless to say the whole crowd clapped again. It was time to leave for Sunil. All the goodbyes were said and Sunil was about to get into his chopper when Venkat came running for his last question.

“Sir, what about the rest of your room mates, the 5 Indians?”

Sunil Verma smiled and said “I don’t know about the rest but I’ve heard Abhijeet is now a writer.”

India Parks

Chapter 6: Geetanjali weds Naresh.

2 years later

I had opened 5 more India Parks all across USA which meant a lot of Indians were getting used to the India there. I sometimes saw a couple of Americans registering in it but prominently I could notice it was the Indian population which seemed interested. I made more money than R & S Consultancy and I could not handle both the businesses. I spoke to Raqeeb about it one day and he gladly agreed to take over R & S. Madhu and I meanwhile had a baby girl, Anusha and that completed our family. The Indian family, which created India Parks.

After 2 years I could proudly say 200acres of USA was taken over by India and I had actually converted that into the India I knew. Now there was an Indian Institute of Technology and an Indian Institute of Management in the 5^th Indian Park that I had built. I had got the permission from the govt. of India to use the names of these Institutes. One fine morning I decided to visit one of the Parts to see how everything was running. I entered via gate noticing the security guard asleep. Ah! My Idea! My India! What happened next hadn’t happened before. I asked the other watchman not to disturb the chap and walked ahead. A bunch of kids followed by a pack of dogs ran across the road. “Sau ka ek, do sau ka teen, sau ka ek, do sau ka teen” someone shouted, somewhere far the songs from the movie Aashiqui were being played loud.

I finally reached the section where people stayed. I looked around, found smoke coming out of houses and a distinct Indian masala smell. Above one of the houses, a girl was folding clothes hung on a wire and smiling at regular intervals. This was strange. I had seen it only in the movies. I looked around for her inspiration. A Shahrukh look-alike on the next house stood smiling too. He was working out on the terrace and showed his biceps to the lady every second to which she generously reciprocated by smiling and making lip movements of “Well done!” I went inside the girl’s house and enquired about them. The Joshis were from Pune, Maharashtra and they were in US since one year which obviously explained their interest in my Parks. The girl’s name was Geetanjali. Mrs.Joshi served me a plate of Poha and a hot cup of chai without knowing who I actually was. In India we do this. In India we always did this. Mrs Joshi had made me extremely happy. I introduced myself to them and extended their stay for a week at no extra cost, thanked them and left.

Now I had to deal with Shahrukh’s family.

“Come in Sunil Sir! My name is Akhilesh Shukla” said the man standing at the door. This is my wife Rinku and I have a son Naresh. This was followed by a minute of “Naresh! Naresh! Where are you?” to which Naresh paid no attention as he kept himself busy impressing his lady love. Naresh Shukla liked Geetanjali Joshi. Geetanjali Joshi liked Naresh Shukla.

Their love story now started bringing me to the Park every day. I would notice how far they had gone in this and was very happy to note their progress. Some greeting cards were exchanged; some cups of coffee, a few songs dedicated, a few lies told, a few walks in the park, it was all very Indian, very very Indian.

After 6 days

I asked my driver to stop as I saw Naresh and Geetanjali walk hand in hand in front of me. I was also very happy to observe that Ph.D was full.

“Hi guys! You are Naresh and Geetanjali right” I asked.

“Yes sir! It’s my pleasure to meet you! Said the young man.

“Geet! This is Sunil Verma, the owner of India Parks”

“Namaste!” said Geet.

“So did they agree in both of your houses to get married to each other?”

“Yes! As soon as we are out of here, we shall be doing that! We want you to come too sir!” said a smiling Geet.

I smiled at her and thought for a while. I looked around and found an empty bench in a park. I asked both of them to come with me.

“I have a proposal. I want you guys to get married here; In India Parks”.

The next couple of hours were spent deciding on the day, rituals, functions that would happen in India Parks. The neighbours Sharma, Kulkarni, Deshpande and Subramanian took a lot of interest in the ongoing proceedings.

After 3days – 20^th May 2009

The baraat came at around 8.30pm that night, a horse was decorated and Naresh sat on it. Crackers were burst and a miniature version of a Maruti 800 which had a board “Pavan Band Company” moved in front of him. The men and women danced, the baraat reached Joshi’s house, the bridegroom’s shoes were stolen, the garlands were exchanged, and a tasty meal which was a combination of both North Indian and a Maharashtrian delicacy was served. I also intended to send an invitation to Raj Thackeray but I could not find him anywhere. Geetanjali cried. Mr Joshi’s shirt was wet with her tears. The mother and daughter hugged each other for 6minutes. Everybody was silent. Naresh walked to Mr. Joshi and said

“Don’t worry Papa! I will take care of her! “And touched his feet again.

It was my India I was in. A couple of tears rolled down my eyes as the bride sat in a decorated car and slowly went away. That night I went home, hugged Madhu for 6minutes, said “I love you!” and slept.

India Parks

Chapter 5: The First India Park.

I found a white dhoti kurta hung in my closet. I brushed, took a shower and got ready. All the elements within me today were Indian. I spoke Hindi with Jaideep and asked Madhu to light a couple of incense sticks. Raqeeb and Zukeen came home at 10.30 and we left together towards the designated spot. The place was an hour’s drive from home which seemed like a day to me. Finally we reached there and found approximately 800eyes waiting for us. Without any further delay, I laid the foundation stone with Raqeeb and hugged him. Everybody present there was given sweets and the ceremony ended with the recitation of my National Anthem.

After 8 months

I was discussing something with Madhu as my cell phone rang.

“Hello!”

“Haan Sir, Main Sharma bol raha hun sir! Jaise maine aapko promise kiya tha aapka “Park” ya job hi kuch aap bolte ho woh ready ho gaya hai sir”.

“Oh!” I was all smiles and Madhu had her question mark expression on. I tried to make the words INDIA PARKS IS READY but she couldn’t get it.

“Haan! Sharma! Hum log aa rahen hain! Abhi!”

By the time I cut the call, Madhu had already grasped the news and went to the kitchen and came out carrying sweets. We reached in an hour, there was a huge gate which still dint read anything. Sharma was standing right next to the door. This Indian import did exactly what I had asked him to do, behave like an Indian! He gave me a big smile as Madhu and I entered.

What we saw inside took us by shock. The houses were of different colors with God names on them followed by the Hindi word Krupa. There was a deserted huge water storage building. I started walking in disbelief when suddenly Madhu shouted

“Watch out!”

I stopped and realized there was a big pothole with dirty water in it. I looked at Madhu, gave a superior smile and stepped into the pothole and said loudly “That’s the point Madhu!” A couple of buildings were created and instantaneously destroyed. A lot of walls were built on which the words “Please do not stick bills” and “Yahan pishaap karna hai” needless to say “Not” word was striked out. Good work Sharma! There were 46 houses that Sharma had constructed. 24 double stored, 2 huge apartments naming them Shantiniketan I and II, somewhere Shobha and Ekta kapoor were smiling. The market area was a pleasant surprise. An Udupi idly sambar stall, a pav bhaji center, a cold drink house, a biryani center and a vacant building stood tall. I turned towards Sharma and asked him “Yeh kiske liye hai?”

“Haan sir yeh maine socha hai!”

“Lekin kya hai?”

“HFC hai, Hindustan Fried Chicken”

It was in our blood. We were all Indians there, Sharma, Madhu and myself. I took Madhu ahead to show her my masterpiece. We were in front of a small shop on which the word PHD was written.

“Let me guess!” said Madhu and thought about it everything from a degree college to a clinic to treat infertility issues.

“Ha! Ha! No”

“This is the official hair cutting saloon of India Parks and it is called PRANAV HAIR DRESSERS”.

Her eyes were moist; she came to me smiled and said “Lets stay here forever”.

“We will” I said, and we went back to the car out of India Park and back to US.

Adequate measures to market and publicize the part were already made. The response was overwhelming. We decided to start with a 3-day package then the 7-day as the Indians in the US were still more US, less Indian. A batch of 120 people were the first visitors to the INDIA PARK. They were 120 Indians none of them were US citizens. That disappointed me but Madhu said that this park would be a bigger hit among the US crowd. The park was a huge hit. All the 120 desired to come back to the park and said they waited for the next long weekend. They were stinking of sweat and carrying rotten bananas in their bags.

Well! That was the point!

India Parks

Chapter 4: Import-Export

I conceptualized and finalized my plan of India Parks on a piece of paper on the flight back home. I felt the urgency to reach, impatience was taking over me but it was worth it. After exactly 23 hours our plane landed, I sent Madhu and Jaideep in a car home, hugged Raqeeb and went straight to the office with him. I had already called all my board members, I still remember the time, and it was 1 a.m. I went inside the conference room, closed the door, turned around and smiled at everybody. I opened a piece of paper from my pocket and read aloud.

1. 25 police officers

2. 35 small size retail shop keepers

3. 20 electricity board personnel

4. 30 maids

5. 15 kids

6. 30 people who know to prepare tea

7. 15 house constructors

8. 10 beggars

9. 30 drivers

10. 20 government officials

11. 15 politicians

12. 25 municipality cleaners

13. 5 doctors

14. 10 security guards

15. 2 poojaris

“I want all of the above mentioned Indian people here in the US, please arrange for their passports and visas. Kindly talk to the American and Indian governments and make sure this happens at the earliest” I said.

“Sir, any particular reason why R&S consultancy would need these guys?” asked one of the baffled employees.

“Yes, I need all of them for a park. A theme park” I said.

“Park?? what is the theme?”

“India” I said with all smiles.

“All these guys need to do exactly what they do in India with exactly the same integrity and commitment. I want the cops to be as corrupt as they are in India. The maid should steal as much as she does in India. Everything should be Indian in my park. Indian homes, Indian people, Indian tea, Indian roads.”

Raqeeb was smiling sitting in a far corner. I asked him what the matter was.

“You did not describe India but you described both India and Pakistan or rather I’d say India and Pakistan Parks”.

I smiled and continued “The people would have to stay for a minimum of 7days in the park by paying designated fees and would get a chance to enjoy true India. They would be given leaky houses, noisy neighbors, zee tv, star plus, the K series, everything they feel once they are in India. All their Indian needs should be satisfied” I said.

“Got you sir!” said John D Cruz, my right hand.

“Yes John! I know you are thinking about money, I will leave it to you to fix everything related to the amount”.

It was the first time that a country was the “theme” for a theme park but India was worth it. It could make an American forget his roots and drool over this tasty dish. Damn you Burger man! Later that night I asked Raqeeb if he wanted to change the name to India Pakistan Parks to which he said “what’s in a name?” and smiled. So in the next few days, a total of 350 people in India who never thought would see the insides of an airplane were brought to the US. A special guest house was constructed for them.

The work on the park was to begin the next day. The invitations for the opening program were sent to all the concerned people. I still remember the date. It was August 14. Tomorrow was Indian Independence Day. I would do my bit too. I’d create a new India. I was excited and scared, I closed my eyes, and thought of scene that I had seen in India of a security guard spitting in the road, stood up sang our national anthem and slept.

India Parks

Chapter 3: India! India!

32 women aged over fifty years, 16 old men, 25 kids and 13 of my cousins had come to receive us at the airport. I was a popular personality already and the government had made good arrangements for my stay. Far off I could see a policeman spit fiercely on the ground. This was the India I missed. I wish I could take it back in a frame.

“This way Sunny sir” said the driver.

“Sunil Verma” I said and got into the car.

My India trip comprised of, visits to all the major metros and meeting various people. I was more interested in the travel than meeting the businessmen. That afternoon the president of India had arranged for a lunch in my honor at the Rashtrapati Bhavan. It was one of the biggest moments of my life, much bigger than becoming the divisional manager and handling over a hundred Americans. I was received with garlands and a lot of respect. We went into a room and suddenly the guards asked me to stand up for the national anthem. That was the moment, I stood up and so did my son. “Jana Gana Mana adhinayaka jayahe…” sang the group of people as my son observed the tears roll down my eyes. The last time I stood up to the anthem was in school, it had been more than 25 years since. Needless to say I cried that night too.

I had to start my journey from the next day. The journey through the various parts across India gave me a very detailed insight into the actual India, its corrupt policemen, cheating retailers, road side pan shops, leaking houses, untarred roads, the countless potholes, roadside jelebi stores, the idli-dosa centres, cattle being sold, over flowing gutters, people spitting, autorickshaws with salman’s picture behind, loud music, vegetables sold on roads, rangolis, the smell or agarbatti, the road side chai wallas ah, I had them a lot. I had been instructed by Madhu not to be all patriotic and turn off the A.C and open my windows, but I could not resist. It was only when I opened the windows that I was connected to everything around me. The air smelt of a mixture of petrol, mud and burnt wood. India had changed a lot. I saw everybody with a mobile phone. A majority of them talking in broken English then were now speaking good English.

“Coke sir?” my driver asked.

“Sure” I said and got down from the car. We were in Mumbai, amchi Mumbai.

My driver got me a bottle of coke, and as I sipped some cold American carbonated water it reminded me of the fact that I had to go back to the US in a couple of days. My driver promptly paid the vendor and we set off. The next evening I was a day away from leaving. Jaideep and I decided to pay a visit to the nearby Dinosaurs theme park. I let Jaideep play by himself, I didn’t want to leave. Raqeeb told me that as soon as I reached US we were going to have a meeting with the Coca Cola Company. I reluctantly said yes, and asked him what he wanted from here.

“Kashmir, get me Kashmir” he said.

We laughed and cut the call. He was probably the only reason I could go back to the US. I was lost in these thoughts when Jaideep shouted “Daddy, look at these dinosaurs, they are so huge. I actually feel like I’m with them”.

BANG! Right then that moment something struck me. I looked around and was amazed. It was my Eureka moment. I could see everything in front of me very clearly.

“Come Jaideep! We have to leave” I said.

“But Daddy I like it here, I want to stay”.

I smiled at this, he was going to be amazed by what I was going to do next, so would Madhu and Mr. Obama, and the whole world.

INDIA PARKS was coming.

India Parks

Chapter 2: Jana Gana Mana

Our business grew well and fast. It had beaten all our expectations and surpassed every record. I was awarded Business man of the year by NY times. 18 kilos of the 20 kilos of pickles had been relished. I had bought a big house for myself, married a Maharashtrian girl by name Madhumala Joshi, though I was a north Indian realizing that Raj Thackery and Co would be extremely unhappy with Madhu. Madhu was a 26% stake holder in R&S consultancy. She was our chief technical officer. Raqeeb was married to Zubeen, an interior designer from Pakistan. Zubeen owned a boutique in New York.

I was extremely happy with my career. I was doing exactly what I wanted to do. I made $10 every second, which meant even when I slept a couple of hours late on Sundays I made $1200. I was surrounded by numbers. It had been 12 years since we had started; R&S now had 200 offices across the US.

I think it was around 2 pm that day when I sat at my table browsing. I searched for my name in Wikipedia and found six pages about me.

“Sunil Verma (pronounced su-nee-l var-ma) is an Indian born American businessman” the words read, the words ‘Indian born’ remained in my mind. I went back home that day and found a pot made of porcelain in my store room on which the letter P was still pretty clear. I went near the pot and held it in my hands, there was a handkerchief in my suit which I took out to wipe the dust off the pot. I read the letters aloud, “P I C K L E S”.

My eyes were wet. A couple of drops fell on the empty pot as I remembered Maa and Paa. All my 20 kilos were over; none of my cells seemed Indian. I went into my room closing the door behind me, stood upright and started singing.

“Jana Gana... Mana, adhinayaka jayahe…” and I could not continue.

I was still crying when I tried to sing Jaya hey, Jaya hey, I knelt down and cried. That day the pickle pot meant more to me than those twelve ‘Business man of the year’ awards I had received in the twelve years. America had eaten me up. It had consumed every cell of mine.

My son Jaideep popularly called Jay by his friends came near me and asked why I was crying , Madhu had followed him to the room saying “Jay, don’t run fast”.

“Jaideep Sunil Verma! Call him that” I shouted at Madhu breathing heavy.

That night I took Jaideep s globe and turned it around to find India, moved my hands over my country and wept like a child. The next day I went to a park with Jaideep. I let him play with his friends and sat down on the benches. I missed India terribly, I had to go there, I had to go back.

I got back home, booked three tickets and after three days was waving my goodbye s to Raqeeb. I boarded my flight and closed my eyes.

“Dad, what are we going there for?”

“To learn a song” I said smiling.

“A song?! what is it called ?”

“Jana Gana Mana” I said smiling and slept.

India Parks

The atmosphere of SKCE was euphoric. Victory came naturally to SKCE but today was different. The banners around the college campus read “Welcome Mr. Sunil Verma”. A few students were sporting the INDIA PARKS t-shirts, few of them smoked, but it was KC, nobody bothered. At around 4.30 pm the principal arrived in his white Maruti 800, the smokers vanished in thin air, couples sitting on the benches departed, a whole bunch of professors welcomed the principal at the entrance.

“Yes, he should be here anytime” said one of them.

“Mr. Venkat, is everything ready?”

“Just one second sir”, said Venkat like he was going to announce the success of Chandrayana -2. He went in, switched on the button and came out.

“Look around sir” said the over built Venkat, the Alexander of KC.

The whole college glowed; it was the most beautiful sight. A few bulbs weren’t working here and there, but then this was INDIA, well, that was the point. After ten minutes a couple of helicopters landed on the SKCE grounds. The principal stood there carrying a huge Indian flag colored garland. Beside him stood Mr. Venkat, the Robin of this Batman, the Birbal of this Akbar. Out came Sunil Verma, a couple of delegates followed behind, the principal garlanded him.

“Thanks!” Said Mr. Verma.

“It’s our pleasure sir” said Venkat realizing another comment from him would mean he’d be in the circle of danger.

“This way sir” said the principal and led him to the stage. Around 2500 students had gathered to get a glimpse of their hero.

“Hello all, today is the day! The auspicious day when we have the man who changed the face of the world, we have amongst us the man who actually changed the world map, the owner of the 25000 INDIA PARKS, Mr. Sunil Verma”. The crowd applauded for the next five minutes as Mr. Verma rose up and walked towards the dais. He looked at the students and smiled. It all came back to him, his journey, from Mysore to New York, from INDIA to INDIA PARKS.

“Let’s take a walk around INDIA PARK” he said as he opened a small book which contained notes. He started reading, while everybody listened curiously.

Chapter 1: Pakistan helps India.

America had always excited me, the tall buildings, the wide roads, the big MNC s, the coke and the Burger man. It was my last day at the Indian Institute of Management- Koizekode and I had an offer letter in my hands.

“Wow, Bank of America!” shouted Ratan, one of my friends as he looked at the logo on the cover.

“Yeah” I said almost shivering at the realization. Bank of America, the words kept growing on me.

“Name: Sunil Verma

Age: 26 years

Occupation: Banker @ Bank of America” I said to myself as I took a shower that night.

I came back and had a look at my offer letter again and plunged into my dreams.

26 days later

“Beta, don’t eat non-veg, don’t drink, and don’t even look at those white women” said my mom, when I was thinking of Fried Chicken, Tequila and Pamela Anderson simultaneously.The Airlines had allowed me to carry 96 kilograms of luggage in which I think I had around 20 kilograms of pickles. After making sure my mom didn’t cry anymore I walked to board my flight. I was going out of INDIA; I was going to the USA. It finally hit me. I tightened my seat belt, pushed my seat back, threw a cheap look at the air hostess and slept.

New York! The big apple! The city was indeed new and big. I shared an apartment with five Indians and a Pakistani; Amar, Mithun, Birju, Srinivas, Abhijeet, and Raqeeb, who also worked for Bank of America. I had totally forgotten about India and my mom. I had relished 23 plates of Chicken steak and 2 buckets of KFC which meant around ten chickens had been slaughtered for me. It was enough for my mom to allow herself a dip in the holy water of the river Ganga.

Bank of America was a nice place to work. Plus the people there were amazed by the INDIA- mathematics connection. Raqeeb was brilliant at economics and proved a prosperous intake for the BOA.

2 years later

730 days had passed by since I joined BOA and I was the divisional manager. 126 Americans worked under me, a feeling of victory. I had improved the overall profit of the bank in the fixed deposits section by following a particular strategy that Mr. Shastry had taught us at the IIM. It had worked wonders; I had also written a mail to him thanking him.

But I was not satisfied, I had realized that my method was actually pretty good and I could make good money if I used it for myself. I needed economic support, I got the financial backing from Raqeeb who loved the idea and decided to support me. It was a good add for all the peace lovers and the UN. A Pakistani had given money to an Indian to start business. But still that night two soldiers from each country had died in an inter-cross border shooting.

So then it began, “R&S consultancy”, our cards read as I distributed it among my friends in New York. It was an India Pakistan venture. It was special.