The Return Of The Swamiji I

I was looking forward to our course meet. 32 years had passed since we took the last step on our way to serve in this gigantic army. Along the way some of my course mates got married - and procreated early.They were the cause of envy of many of our other friends who by comparison had younger children and were staring retirement in the face. Understandably they were worried about settling their children. Others realized in the midst of serving the nation that army was not for them . They carried out a mid course correction and joined the civil stream. They were also doing well for themselves.Many like me consciously continued serving in the army. Amongst us many retired without achieving their full potential - either due to laziness or due to the fact that they took a stand against irresponsible and pig headed seniors and refusing to toe the line. I had not met many of my friends after being commissioned. The get together promised to rectify this anomaly.

One person I was most anxious to meet was the person who I was not even sure would attend. But something told me that he would be there today - call it intuition or sixth sense. And that was the reason that I was looking forward to this meet.

Once in a while life takes a funny turn. While most of my other course mates were involved in the humdrum of daily life my friend went on a totally different track altogether. Even while in the academy he was known for his intensity and determination to see a task to its end. What brought us together was that we both belonged to the same platoon and were neighbours. Over a period of time we became close friends. After the academy we drifted apart . An occasional phone call in the beginning and a sporadic call were all that kept us in touch. He joined the infantry and I joined the aviation. To top that he joined the special forces. Any how life limped along . I got married and my two children were the cynosure of my eyes. With the advent of the mobile I thought that we would be in communication to a larger extent. But my hopes were belied . If anything we were more distant from each other. Probably early in life he saw the futility of killing and watching his close friends fall one by one along the way. I realised that something was different when the next time we spoke . “ I am planning to leave the ‘fauj’ Suraj”; he said. "When I see the suffering around me – I want to help alleviate it. And I am not talking about poverty and other associated problems. I am talking about mental health and problems created by loss of mental stability". Part of me wanted to dissuade him from taking such a drastic step so early in life while the other part of my brain informed me of the futility of such a fatuous  argument. Be that as it may I knew that he was set on doing something drastic.

It was a long wait for me to hear about him. And then the news was far more shocking than I could ever imagine. My friend had made a name for himself , and his ashram was in  the foothills of the Himalayas at  Dehradun.. He was fondly known as the Swamiji. His reputation was very good and people from all strata of the society visited him for seeking solace for their problems. My desire to meet him did not arise for quite some time. But all along I was keeping a track of his activities.

Personal problems have a way of intruding upon your daily life in such a manner that by the time you disentangle yourself from them you would find that the world has gone by and that you have a lot of catching up to do. My father was already in an ashram in Haridwar. Since my problems were refusing to sort themselves out I decided to take a break to visit my father to get away from it all. My father is a no nonsense  man . And he roundly criticised me for being stupid and incapable of dealing with my inadequacies. A few days in Haridwar and I felt that I needed a new perspective towards life. It was then that I remembered my friend . The idea which started off as thought slowly took root in my mind very quickly. I had to meet him.

The next day saw me speeding towards Dehradun in my car. My mood was uplifted at the thought of meeting my friend and course mate – and more importantly, The Swamiji, after such a long time. What would he be like? Would he make me feel welcome? Or would there be awkwardness between us? How would I broach upon  my problems? Soon afterwards I was in Dehradun . I was quite wary about about the reception I would get at the Ashram. The Ashram was away from the main city with no indication as to its whereabouts except for the fact that one had to deduce that in a uninhabited area the populace was heading only in one direction. Further inquiries proved that I was on the right course. The ashram occupied a huge area. Since it was still early in the day, the congregation was yet to begin. The volunteers were seating the people quietly in front of a huge podium. The subdued and pious atmosphere affected the children also. Some of the restless ones were crying in undertones. I was immediately struck by the discipline shown by the people. Unlike other religious/ prayer congregations that I visited in my life, here I found people sitting quietly and with dignity.

Prior to meeting my friend – the Swamiji – I decided to attend the congregation. Somehow the fact that my friend had become a Guru was something I still could not digest . I had to see it for myself. After waiting for a short time I could feel the undercurrent of excitement travel through the crowd. Chantings of “Swami, Swami, Swami......” first started on a subdued note and slowly the frenzy of seeing the Swamiji in person took over as the chants grew louder and louder. I held my breath. Would he be in saffron robes? Would he have a long and venerable beard? – These were some of the thoughts that were going on in my mind. Soon the Swamiji arrived on the stage. He looked totally different from what I had visualised. He appeared much shorter and he sounded different.

My spirits sank and I was under the misapprehension that I had come to the wrong Ashram. But the way the Swamiji spoke compelled me to continue to listen to him. Soon it was my turn to meet the Swamiji. When I went to him and mentioned to him that I was a friend of the Swamiji who was also my course mate he told me that the Swamiji left for the Himalayas for Meditation. However Swami Guruvananda invited me to stay in the ashram as long as I desired. A few days later after an intense course of meditation I left for my home.

Now we were meeting as a course. Though there was no intimation of the Swamiji attending the get together I was sure that he would be there. I was looking forward to meeting him....

Choices

The day when she was prematurely released from the hospital would forever be etched in her mind for times to come. When her daughter told her that Neeraja's father passed away she was struck dumb. She did not know what to say or do. Tears eluded her and thus the emotional release she craved for was denied to her. All she could remember was her silent castigation of her dad when he did not visit her in the hospital when she was ill. Little did she realise  that her dad was in no condition to visit her during her hospitalisation. She went through the rituals of appeasing her father's soul like an automaton. Her life as it was had reached the nadir. Now the only recourse left for her was to bring some normalcy into her otherwise shattered existence. One thought was foremost in her mind - she would never ever let herself slide back into the depths of helplessness again. To this end she embraced her continuing treatment wholeheartedly. She set herself small goals . It was like learning to walk again. Soon she started reintegration into normal life. One day at a time was her motto . Somehow she could never regain the relationship with her daughter. Their conversation was stilted and  and awkward. The mental breakdown reared its ugly head in their relationship.

As time passed her daughter became more reticent about her activities. So it was no surprise when she brought home Vangipurapu Narayan Rao and introduced her to her mother as her life partner. Neeraja was shocked at her daughters decision. But then she rationalised thinking that her daughter was very much capable of making her own decisions. With a pang she knew that it was only a matter of time before her daughter left home.

The marriage was a quite affair. Her brothers were still not on talking terms with her. But now it had to do more with inheritance than with the past intransigencies. Sadly Neeraja realised that life would now be full of such tensions with no buffer between her and the workings of the world. 

Her son on the other hand was not improving. Having cleared his intermediate exams he was becoming more erratic and uncontrollable. When he got bored at home he resorted to violence against his mother thrashing her black and blue. The thing was it seemed like he enjoyed beating her up. Soon Neeraja dreaded meeting her son. She started avoiding him and only came out of her room to cook and clean up when the boy was out of the house.

Finally in desperation she contacted Dr Shiv Narayan Sharma. That too when Ramona hounded her over the phone to do so. ShivNarayan indicated to her that she should put her son in the National institution for mentally handicapped. Neeraja thought long and hard about the possibility of putting her son in the programme . On the one hand her maternal instincts were aroused and she pictured her boy lonely and helpless in an alien environment and on the other hand she wondered how long she would be able to bear the physical abuse her son was meting out to her. In the end she decided that if her son continued to stay at home then it would not be long before she would succumb to the physical abuse - the consequences of which would be too terrible for her son.  Her maternal instinct for the safety of her child and her own desire to survive in this world to see her son settle down to do something worthwhile won out . It was with a heavy heart that she bid adieu to her son.  Her son was actually happy to leave home and visit new places. But then mothers will be mothers.
Neeraja was now all alone. Time hung heavy on her hands. She was at loss to do something gainful. Though she taught the impoverished children in the school her father had established, it was the rest of the time in which she had nothing to do which bothered her. She made efforts to get back into the daily activities of  the apartments - but the apartment dwellers still looked on her with suspicion and distrust. She backed out of this project voluntarily. The idle time played havoc with her mind and there were times when she contemplated suicide. To be embraced by the welcoming arms of death seemed to here as a viable option. She smiled remembering the old adage " An idle mind is a devil's workshop";  There was a time when she would complain about the immense amount of trouble her children used to put her to.Now she hated being alone with nothing to do .When these attacks became severe she was forced to re-examine all her options, in sheer desperation.

During a conversation in the past she recollected someone mentioning the Ashram of Swamiji in Deharadun. He was reputed to be a no nonsense person who was caring and sincere. He was known to be particularly good with people having mental issues. After a  lot of contemplation she finally decided that since there was nothing to hold her back at home , this seemed to be the best option. Having dealt with all her pending issues she left for the Ashram in the hope that it would provide her with the elusive mental peace that she so much craved for.....

Recovery

She hated the incarceration at the hospital. And she fought it every inch of the way. She gave a hard time to the nurses and at one point of time she remembered biting one of them. Not that they were very sympathetic towards her. It was like no other hospital she had been to before in her life. Through the nights , the attacks of terror continued. She felt sorry for herself and for her poor lonely children at home. This did not deter her from being a difficult patient. She only ate the hospital food when she felt weak from hunger. She craved for something sweet . She had a sweet tooth and her cravings became worse as the days passed. By the third day her non cooperation became a major irritant for the hospital staff.She was left alone. Not even her daughter was allowed to visit her .This solitude somehow gave her time to reflect on her actions in the past few months. finally she started coming to terms with the fact that something was seriously wrong with her. The sheer frustration of the solitude made her want to end it all. She was handicapped by the fact that she was under constant observation - and even if she wanted to do something drastic she did not find anything suitable to assist her in ending her life.

By the sixth day she realised that the only way she could get out of this hell hole was to submit to the treatment. She indicated as much to the nurse who came to check her vitals. But when they started treating her she rebelled. She could not help herself.

The doctors finally decided that the only way to treat her was to submit her to shock therapy. That morning Neeraja was treated extra nicely. The nurse led her to a room where she was suddenly immobilised and tied dowm . She felt something like headphones being placed over her head. Then she felt extreme pain and her body loosening up all over . The last thing she remembered was the horrible smell of burning flesh - and then she lost consciousness. When she came to the nurse shoved some pills in her mouth - and held her nose closed until she gagged and swallowed the pills.
She came to dread the shock treatment. Her whole time was spent dreading the next shock therapy.
As the time passed - rather than suffer further  shock treatment she started cooperating with the hospital staff and submitted to the oral treatment. Slowly but surely she was put on the path to recovery. Now her daughter came to visit her regularly and brought her home cooked food. In spite of all these happenings her brothers never came to visit her. She  accepted the fact that they were a thing of past. But what did hurt her was that her father never came to visit her. When she was a growing girl, Neeraja was her father's favourite .Now in spite of suffering her father maintained a continued silence.

The treatment had eased off and all that it now contained of was a few pills in the morning and night and group therapy to condition her to ease into normal day to day routine , once she got out of the hospital. She looked forward to getting out. She had spent about 45 days in the hospital. And the atmosphere at the hospital was starting to pall on her. Her release came sooner rather than later. That day her daughter came to the hospital looking rather grim and puffy eyed. Neeraja did not dare to ask her daughter what was wrong. But she felt it intuitively. She felt terrible and all sort of thoughts were running in her mind - the foremost being something was wrong with her son.

She berated herself silently for not cooperating with the doctors earlier. She would then have been home much earlier. Now because of her stupidity her release was inordinately delayed. While she was letting her imagination run wild her daughter came to inform her that she was going home. The time had come for Neeraja to take that final step to recovery - re integrate into the day to day humdrum of daily life.

It was when she was with her daughter in the cab that her daughter started crying. Neeraj's relief at being released was short lived. She wanted to reach out to her daughter to comfort her . But her memories of hospitalisation and the daughter's behavior prior to hospitalisation came in the way . Finally her daughter said " It is grand father - he passed away this morning...

Incarceration

Bouts of paranoia interspersed with moments of sanity. That is how she remembered her path to recovery. In her heart she knew that she had rubbed a lot of people the wrong way. She could not recollect much that had happened. She did remember though, that as time passed she did not like going out of the house. It was her poor daughter who had to bear the brunt of all the work. At times she was very nasty with her going so far as to imply that the girl was involved in secret trysts with her boyfriends. Even as she made these unreasonable accusations she knew that she was wrong. But she could not stop herself. It was as if something external was controlling her. She felt a sadistic pleasure when she accused her,  reveling in her daughter's discomfiture.

She also had recollections of unreasoning terror - during the nights - when everything had fallen silent and the whole city was sleeping. Fear that she was being spied upon. That she was being overheard and that the aerials outside her house controlled the radio waves emanating from her house. She would suddenly wake up in the night to bouts of terror, screaming silently. Things had reached a stage where she started suspecting her neighbours of being part of this whole spying game.
When she first moved into the apartments she was welcomed as a young widow with two children to bring up. Everyone was sympathetic to her and would go out of their way to help her. Soon she developed excellent rapport with all of them. She was particular about her surroundings and ensured that the menials did their job properly. So much so that the apartment dwellers were only too happy to appoint her the secretary of the society. Her husband's past contacts were also very helpful and assisted her in getting a job in a semi government organisation. This helped augment her savings and look after her children.As the time passed her children grew up. And along with it her fears. As she looked at it, her daughter would find her life partner and soon go away. She would be isolated and left alone to look after her son. Her greatest fear was - what if she fell ill? Then who would look after her son? These negative thoughts kept her awake during the long winter nights, affecting her work and her sang froid. Would her neighbours be as patient with her as they were now? Would her friends come to meet her as before? What would happen when she got old?

All these thoughts and the helplessness of the situation made her lose sleep. Soon she started becoming depressed. Her stomach was always in a tight knot. Everything she did - every interaction she had - somehow did not feel right. In her depression she started eating more and more and put on weight. She started doubting every single action of people around her and started picking up fights with her neighbours. She accused them - illogically - of plotting to rob her. Her fears progressively grew worse and she stopped going out of the house even to buy vegetables and daily necessities. She trusted no one. At home things were no better. She doubted her daughter and ignored her son. This led to frequent fights. Over a period of time the quarrels got more and more bitter.

Then on that fateful day Ramona came to visit her. Ramona her classmate from school. Of all the classmates only Ramona kept in touch with her. It was probably because they both went to college together. But on that day she could only feel bitterness for Ramona. Neeraja felt that everything was going right for Ramona. She had moved abroad, had cute children and a loving husband. The thoughts just would not go away. Finally she told Ramona that she had come to rob her jewelry and that she was a witch. The shocked look on Ramona's face only made her want to hurt Ramona more. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind she knew that what she was doing was wrong. One part of her grieved at her own stupidity in ruining a perfectly good relationship and the other exulted in her new found ability to look at things independently. The outcome was far from satisfactory though - Ramona made her excuses and left early.

A few days later another of her classmates, Dr Shiv Narayan Sharma came to visit her. Along with him was Venkatswamy. At first she was puzzled as to why they were visiting her after such a long time. It was almost 30 Years since she saw them both at the passing out from the school. Any how they clarified that they were passing by and had dropped in to say hello. Neeraja thought it odd but she let it go. After they left she did not remember much about what they talked. Her life since then was restricted to the confines of her home.

This time she was in a murderous rage.The origins of her fight with her daughter slipped her mind. But what she did remember was that she wanted to beat sense into her daughter. To this end she started belaboring her daughter mercilessly - that is - until her daughter locked herself in her room. While she was contemplating as to how to get at her daughter and complete the task of knocking sense into her, she heard the doorbell ring. Dr Shiv Narayan and Venkataswamy were again making a visit . She was civil with them and looked in askance at this visit of theirs. Venkataswamy told her that since during the last visit when she told him about her diabetes, they had found a good reliable doctor who would help her work on controlling her disease. Though she did not buy their story, with much persuasion Neeraja agreed to go to the doctor. Her daughter was called from her room and they proceeded to go to the doctor.

Neeraja knew that something was not right when she saw conspiratorial looks pass between her daughter and her classmates. That is when she decided to jump out of the moving transport. The difference between her thought and her action was minimal. She felt the shock of pain as she landed on the road. In spite of her wanting to run away from the spot she could not do so. Her legs were paining.As she consistently refused to go further in spite of her daughter and her friends insistence. Just as her classmates all but gave up her daughter walked up to her and slapped her hard on the face. All her daughter's pent up frustration came to the fore and translated itself into that powerful backhanded slap. Neeraja could taste blood on her lips. Possibly the shock of her dear gentle daughter turning violent did something for Neeraja. She quietly got into the vehicle and  the journey was resumed. The last thing she remembered was that she was being dragged into the hospital kicking and screaming.

Friends

Neeraja's behaviour was causing concern to her friend Ramona. However due to her impending trip abroad she is unable to do much. Then she remembered that Another classmate of hers and Neeraja's, Dr Shiv Narayan Sharma was in town. If anyone could be of help it would him - considering that he was a renowned Psychiatrist. Read on ......


Dr Shiv Narayan Sharma was in deep thought. His mind was wandering aimlessly. But foremost on his mind was the thought about how much he hated people with tonsured heads. It was beyond him to understand why people shaved their heads. When he had worked in the gynaecology ward he used to detest new born babies who had no hair on their heads. Their whole aspect was one of an evil goblin. In addition to hatred of bald heads, it was his biggest grouse that as he was growing older he too was losing his hair. One of his worst  fears was that he would frighten himself to death one day when he woke up and looked at his image unexpectedly in the mirror. His Peladophobia would be the death of him.

Then his mind refocused on the problem at hand . Ramona - called to request him to have a look at another classmate of theirs - Neeraja - whose behaviour at best could be termed as erratic. Ramona  was very sketchy with the details. This was quite frustrating but the problem piqued Dr Sharma's curiosity. On the one hand he was angry that he was left holding the baby and on the other he was alarmed that a classmate of his was unwell and required help. He gave a sigh and went inside to call Neerajas daughter to find out what exactly was the problem. The girl seemed relieved that finally someone was taking interest in her problems. Not withstanding the girl's narrative Dr Sharma decided to visit Neeraja to gain an insight into her problem. He had not met her in thirty years and was wondering as to how he would explain his sudden manifestation to Neeraja. Then he remembered that another of their classmates , Venkataswamy was in town on a holiday to meet his relatives. It would be a good idea to take Venkatswamy along. There was always safety in numbers...

Venkatswamy and Dr Sharma , had kept in touch over the years. They made it a point to meet every time that Venkataswamy was in town.Once in a while (the dirty men they were) they used to leer at attractive girls.After explaining the problem to Venkatswamy it was decided that both of them would visit Neeraja.

Venkat's Narrative

When Shiv told me that we needed to meet Neeraja I was naurally surprised. We had not met her in thirty years. I did not understand the good doctor's sudden desire to meet her after such a long time. On the appointed day, while we were travelling to Neeraja's house he told me the whole story as gleaned from Ramona. He said that all his training indicated that Neeraja was suffering from a psychotic episode. In any case we would find out soon enough.We reached her place in due time and as we reached her place , her daughter opened the door. We were struck by the uncanny resemblance that the young girl bore to her mother. We were transported back in time. On introducing ourselves the questioning look on the girl's face cleared up. She let us in . The house was tastefully decorated and pleasant. The girl then started telling us how a few months back her mother started behaving erratically. We were soon to have a first hand experience of this aspect, when Neeraja walked in .
At first it was all okay, She remembered us from school and insisted that we have muffins and tea, And when we demurred she became rather insistent and became aggressively hospitable. Then to gain her confidence we talked a bit about school and then she asked us in a rather pointed manner as to why we were there. While we were deciding as to how best to reply to her she called her daughter and told her to close the windows as she feared that all the antennae outside were being used to spy on her and her visitors. Then she asked us to talk in low tones so that no one could hear us. She also told us that she could not switch on the fans as the ash which was on them would come down upon us. That something was wrong was never in doubt . But what it was, was what the good doctor had to analyse through his diagnostic skills.

When we left the doctor confided in me that all the symptoms pointed to paranoid schizophrenia. At the moment we needed to chalk out a plan to induce her to go to a hospital. As to when that would be was anybody's guess.... That moment came sooner than we thought it would. That day morning the daughter called Dr Shiv Narayan . The call was desperate. The girl told the doctor that at the moment she was locked up in her room as her mother was attacking her over some minor argument that they had had that day. The Doctor called me immediately and we went to Neeraja's place immediately. The problem as analysed by the doctor was to persuade Neeraja to go to the hospital, In her present state of mind this seemed impossible. We chalked out a plan whereby one of us would gain the trust of Neeraja and ensure her going to the hospital. The plan worked to an extent - in that Neeraja did get into the auto Rickshaw but on finding out that she was going to the hospital, immediately jumped out in the middle of a very busy intersection.

Desperate situations demanded desperate measures. And this was one of them as by now a crowd had gathered to witness this unexpected drama which was developing on the road. People thought that it was a case of spousal abuse and were shouting encouragement to the lady to make a break for it while she had a chance.The situation was becoming desperate and we knew that it would not be long before someone decided to call the law enforcement agencies. So while one of us was explaining to the crowd that it was a trivial matter, the other, with much persuasion and threats  somehow convinced her that we were visiting someone and managed to get her into the auto rickshaw. In the autorickshaw it was a matter of clinging on to her for dear life to prevent her from making the great escape again. Much to our relief and that of everyone concerned she was finally committed to the hospital. The treatment was not easy. She was pretty far gone and extreme measures had to be resorted to for bringing her back on track. She was an uncooperative patient. The treatment which involved a series of shocks and medicines. It was a very tense time for all of us. Especially for the daughter. Who had no one to depend upon.Finally after a month Neeraja was released from the hospital completely cured of her affliction. I am sure she had some introspection to do - as to what she had to do with her life from now on....

A Different Neeraja

Life till then was going well - considering... that - a few years back when her children were still young her husband had passed away. He was a brilliant scientist who was working in one of the top projects of the country. As a young man who had joined the government research lab , his genius was spotted very early. Things started moving fast . He was soon offered and - subsequently accepted the job at the secret facility. She was a starry eyed young girl who considered herself lucky to net such a brilliant person. Like all geniuses he was an impatient and sensitive person and easily frustrated when things did not go his way. In the process to deaden his feelings he started drinking heavily. The consumption of alcohol gave him a feeling of invincibility and creativity. according to him some of his best work happened when his senses were heightened with alcohol . Often in moments of sobriety he used to marvel at his own creations when he reviewed them. Soon whenever he felt that he was caught up in a problem he started drinking to find the solution.
As was inevitable he began to start his day with alcohol. He found that partly it reduced the hangover from the previous evening and this in turn helped him face the day with renewed vigor. Along the way he did not notice the unhappiness that his drinking was causing his wife and child. During one of his drunken gropings his son was born - an autistic child. The wife brought up the children single handedly with little or no help from her husband. There were fights - with the wife insisting that he desist from drinking and he trying to reassure her that it was a pastime which he could give up anytime that he felt like... She had no one to turn to. Her mother passed away at an early stage due to cancer. After her marriage, she had in her arrogance belittled her father and her brothers. Now when she could have done with help and support of her relatives, no one was willing to support her nor help her. Her life had become a living hell. Even in such circumstances she was too proud to seek assistance from them.
And then the expected happened. Her husband, while at work - one day suddenly collapsed. He was immediately removed to the hospital. where it was diagnosed that he had suffered from a severe heart attack. While immediate life saving measures were instituted, the effects of prolonged alcohol abuse started manifesting themselves and from there it was totally downhill with him dying due to multi organ failure.
Were it not for her close school friend Ramona, she would have given up a long time before. Her friend helped her to overcome this personal tragedy. With the money from her husbands office she relocated to her home town of Hyderabad . She invested wisely and bought a flat close to her parents' residence. Not that it made any difference to her relations with them. The bitterness and alienation was complete. In small ways she tried to make amends. Her father came round after a few years. The lure of the grand children was too strong for the old man to resist. She started teaching in the school her father had set up. However the funds did not last long. She was forced to take up a job at a reputed semi government institution.People were nice and considering her plight, they were sympathetic and patient with her.
It was a difficult task of juggling her job,and bringing up her children alongside. But somehow she managed to do it.The years passed. Ramona her best friend settled abroad. The children stopped depending upon her for everything. At least the daughter.She grew into a comely young women who had inherited her mother's looks and her father's brains. The son was a different story altogether. From thee childhood he was slow on the uptake and was diagnosed with autism. With his mother's patience and extra attention,he, however managed to scrape through the classes and had reached his senior secondary class.
All through this period the only person she was in touch with was her friend Ramona. Whenever Ramona was in India she always made it a point to visit her friend. As a  result of these visits,a warm friendship developed between Ramona and her friend's daughter. She always made it a point to guide the child and at the same time enjoin upon her to look after her mother and brother. One day in a year and conversation over the phone was how Ramona kept in touch with Neeraja. But that one morning brought back so many memories. It was the same every year.
Until that fateful day in 2010. As was her wont Ramona went to meet her friend Neeraja that morning. That day was different. The moment she entered Neeraja's home she knew that something was different. Her friend did not greet her with the usual effusiveness. In fact she seemed withdrawn and distant. "Probably work pressure" thought Ramona. But then the visit went from bad to worse. When Ramona in her forthright manner inquired what was wrong, she was in for a shock. Neeraja accused her of  coming there to rob her jewelry and went on further to say that she was encouraging Neeraja's daughter to consort with unsavory elements, To say that Ramona was shocked was putting it mildly. Somehow she managed to keep her counsel to herself and escaped from her friend at the earliest.
That day she was very restless and kept wondering as to what had happened to her friend and why she was behaving in the manner that she did; Whatever the cause she resolved to get to the heart of the matter . The only drawback was that she did not have the time to do so.  She was scheduled to leave the country soon....  

The Encounter

"He is an interesting person said my friend." We were on our way to meet a friend of my friend. Over the past few years he has been busy with his photography. He is self taught and has gained repute  as an excellent photographer. He has the capability to bring his photos alive.He is in great demand for his ability to add vibrancy to the photos he clicks. How did you meet him ? I asked. My friend said    " oh he is a very eccentric character and when I met him first, it was hate at first sight. He thought I was an inefficient and stuck up person and I felt that he was overrated.  We were both young and still finding our feet in this big bad world. I was jumping at any opportunity to make money.A project for a photo shoot came our way . He was looking for a creative mind with the ability to tell a story and I was looking for someone who would bring to life my ideas. "so how did you two gel?" I asked; My friend laughed and said " oh we did not gel at all. But one thing was sure - we both realised that we require each other if we were to make the project at hand a success. When we first met, it was with barely concealed contempt that we regarded each other. Since it was a small project we did not have many people involved to begin with. And so started the uneasy relationship. In the beginning we shot down each others' ideas and dismissed them as stupid and laughable. There could not be two people who were poles apart. I preferred planning things down to the last detail - he wanted to jump into action impulsively. I wanted things in place in advance and he wanted to start off and tackle the obstacles as they came along. I wanted to be in charge of the execution and he wanted to be the executor and the planner all rolled in one. I did not mind a few faults as long as they were manageable . He used to get pissed off with the smallest mistake. This would lead him to bad mouth all and sundry. And it did not make him popular with the workers at all. We had already run through three coordinators. The first left in a huff when she was brutally tongue lashed by my friend. The second could not take the pressure of our differences and the third left in tears cursing us both roundly for our egos getting in way of the completion of the project.

Things were getting out of hand. The deadline for completion of the project was fast approaching. And the end was nowhere in sight. The fact that our disagreements were getting in the way of completion of the project was not helping at all. The time for burying the differences was near at hand if we wanted to make a name for ourselves in the Market. The returns in terms of  cash was not much. What was important was we would be established in the market. I was determined to work out the differences that morning . By the afternoon it was clear that we were nowhere near what I set out to do. Was it not for the presence of the third party we may have come to blows.

My father told me that when you are banging your head against a wall it is best to come back with better weapons to destroy the wall. I had reached the end of my tether and there was no other option but to leave the scene with as much dignity as I could muster. I needed an outlet for my frustration. By evening, to unwind I went to the local pub 10 Downing street. Was it my fault that my friend also came to the same Bar that evening? When he entered I was already down a few. I did not think twice about baiting him. A whispered comment about him to my companion (loud enough for him to hear) and raucous laughter thereafter got the desired result. My friend came at me at full tilt. I was waiting for him. All the pent up frustration of the past few days boiled over. We were soon at each others throats, punching each other on every exposed part of the body. The other revelers joined with great enthusiasm. Each scoring punch progressively diminished my anger and my intoxication. Soon neither my friend nor I were trying to avoid each others blows. We were just punching each other with the intent to do maximum damage.The bouncers who were in a stupor suddenly came alive and efficiently separated us and threw us out of the Bar. The ignominious exit cooled off our ardor somewhat and we went our separate ways.

The next morning when we met again it was as if nothing had happened the evening before. We were very businesslike. In the following days we ironed out most of our differences with regard to the project and - surprise of surprise - we completed the project in the given deadline. Our work was duly appreciated and in the next few years our symbiotic relationship - My organization and his creativity - earned us lot of projects. Along the way our animosity gave way to genuine friendship. Not that my friend or I changed ourselves much. He was still an impatient man who did not tolerate stupidity and inefficiency and I was always wanting to experiment...

Over a period of time he became a reputed photographer with a client list which read like the who's who of the celebrities and glitterati and I went my own way all over the world. I meet him most of the time when I am in town. And we still laugh at our first encounter.
"Why are we going to meet him?" I asked tentatively. You must meet him because he has lot of ideas which if they fructify will yield phenomenal results. When we reached his place he was alone in the house. I could understand why my friend took the trouble to explain about his friend. The moment we sat down to a cup of tea he immediately formulated an opinion about me. And then went on to dispassionately dissect the performance of his son at a recent cycle race. But i could see that in that dissection there was also pride in the performance of his son. We threw around a few ideas and soon it was time to leave this feisty person and chew over the ideas that he had thrown at me.
Hoping to meet him soon...Again...