80

Dear Readers,

                     Just finished reading Khaled Hosseini's And The Mountains Echoed last night and in the name of Christ, what a story this book carries. The close resemblance of its characters with the real life offers a vivid travel across the changing faces of Afghanistan over the last century, through credulous twists ad turns in the chain of happenings. At times there are passages which evoke strong emotions out of you as you feel your blood become warmer under the skin and the elegance of such prolific writing rests in the quality that the author manages to touch you so deeply without unnecessary allusions to Soviet harshness, Mujahideens, the Taliban, Bush or the war on terror. In short, the story is like having a peek into other's life led in a country about which a lot of misinformation goes around. 

                  During the course of my thesis research, I unraveled the deep ties that the north-western part of the Indian sub-continent has had with Central Asia. I have written this down also that for places like Jaisalmer and Amarkot, Kabul or Peshawar were as close and important as were Agra or Lukhnow. After reading this book, this contention is further bolstered up in my mind. Rushing through the pages of this novel, there were moments when the narrative made my sub-conscious level feel as if all that was described is a part of me.  

               At times, the words and nouns used in the story remind us of the long forgotten Indo-Islamic syncretic culture which once dominated much of Hindustan or northern India. The food, the dresses and the mentalities are all in tune with what we undergo in our day to day lives. Personally, the most striking resemblance that I felt was the barrenness of the landscape and its openness. 

79

Dear Readers,
              It is highly amusing, inspiring and fascinating to hear about the tales of the glory of an institution as grand as the University of Rajasthan. I am in the habit of talking at length to veteran officials, clerks, peons and gardeners of RU and during the course of our conversations, so much light is shed on past anecdotes, events, traditions and high benchmarks set up by great people. I would like to share a few stories that I heard today.

                  When RU was at its peak and was one of the foremost Universities of India, every nook and corner of this palatial campus was spotless clean with neat trimmed loans, gleaming buildings and pristine green cover. There was a handsome dress-code for special workers like the chaprasis would wear starched saffron turbans over dark sherwanis with buttons that had the University emblem embossed on them and the gardeners would wear blue or khaki colored uniforms.

                As told to me, It once so happened that during one of the convocation ceremonies, President V V Giri, the Maharaja of Patiala and other distinguished guests were highly impressed by the welcome speech delivered at the function. They later found out that the  person who spoke was Mr. Giriraj Singh Hada who was a peon in the establishment but was none the less, educated at Mayo College, Ajmer.

            I also heard stories about legendary higher officials who made this institution what it was: diligent, genius Vice Chancellors such as Prof G C Pande, Prof Unnithan etc and also many other efficient Registrars and HOD’s. Ahhh!! Even before I catch my breath my heart pounds with the inflammable zeal to trod in the foot steps of these giants….   

                      

78

Dear Readers,

                    After ages I laid my hands on a brand new bicycle today that I can now call as mine. The whole experience of going to a cycle store, selecting a model and then finally owning it sent me back to my childhood. Twenty years ago, my father and my mother took me on a similar shopping spree and purchased my first mode of transport for me. 

                          As soon as I entered the bicycle dealer's shop, that strong smell of bicycle tyres and tubes and other accessories rung a bell in my head. I remembered that evening when my parents fulfilled a promise that they made to me on my birthday. On the day we were supposed to go to the market, I was in my best behavior and had become a paragon of virtue and discipline looking down upon my 'disobedient' brother who thus, stood vindicated for not deserving any such similar gift.

                        After finishing off my homework dexterously ( along with flaunting the 'V. Goods' in my notebooks awarded a day before), I hopped into our car's rear seat fully aware of the fact that one awry step may scuttle me away from my prized gift. By God's grace, all went well and we reached the spot. There I got lost in the world of shining metal, nice smelling rubber, a shimmer of colors, imported electronic horns and memory of TV commercials which glorified the same machines that stood before me. 

                        India in those days was quiet different from what it is today. Liberalisation was about to yield its results and we were living in an economy which was  still, by many standards, closed. Cash was not free flowing. I had set my eyes on a very expensive kids bike but had to ultimately contend with a lesser option because my parents said they could not afford it. On our way back home, my papa and ma taught me to be happy with what you get and forget about what you cannot obtain. While they were delivering this lecture,  I was least interested and was holding on to my new steel firmly but today, I realise that the dint of their lesson guided me through many lows of my life.......