Student vs IAS T20: love is god and mercy divine

By ACTION  & ABHI 

Parents of middle class family dream their children to be a part in Administrative services, without taking least care of their children’s personal interest. So was the case with Rajan, the slum hero of the novel. He had dreams of his own, but something disastrous happened that changed his life. He failed miserably in his high school exam, passing with poor marks that led his father to issue the ‘farmaan’ that he would peruse his further studies with art stream (just opposite to his expectations, anyway he never wished to study art like girls). But something worse was yet to come. In order to convince a girl for his friend, he fell in love with that girl, who was daughter of a devil in man, Kalicharan, the M.P. After passing their graduation, both prepare for IAS exam. He takes it as T20 championship and as Indian cricket team would do, he also lost, but till then he had gathered treasure worth billions. His dream girl overcomes the hurdle but there're more hurdles waiting in their love story and future. There’re two arch enemies, their respective fathers. Kalicharan & Karia Anna are the main obstacles in their way. The former bullies him at their 1st meeting and wouldn't allow taking away his daughter too easily and later who wished his son to be an IAS, wouldn't allow him to get his goal easily. What would Rajoo do when there is no one to back him? It’s a conflict between- Love V/S Relation - Desire V/S Dreams - Son V/S Father - Student V/S IAS T20

• Language: English
• Publisher: Notion Press
• Release date: Aug 20, 2014
• ISBN: 9789384381738

Book preview

..............Action.

PROLOGUE

Nowadays, no one wants to help anyone.

Who are you talking about?

I saw a helpless guy today, He was expecting help from the public.

Did you help him?

I tried to help, but I couldn’t.

Then my hero is better than you.

Who is your hero?

My friend Rajoo is my hero. He never loses the opportunity to help anyone. He helps anyone who asks him for help.

It means your hero is god.

You have understood me wrong. I didn’t mean that.

What did you want to say?

My friend isn’t god, but not less than him. He is god for me.

Do I know him?

No. He is displeased with me and does not want to meet me. Priya informed me about it.

Now, who is this?

Priya was Rajoo’s classmate. She is now his wife.

Love marriage?

Of course.

Your friend really seems helpful.

What?

Well, I am trying to write a novel but I am unable to come up with the story and the protagonist. So please, tell me more about him.

I will tell you everything I know about him but first change your clothes.

After thirty minutes or so…

Please tell me about your friend. I want to write about him.

I can’t give you all details about him but I have some idea.

Okay, tell me.

When I met him for the first time, he was going somewhere and we both dashed against each other. I threatened him in anger but he did not bother. Those days I did not look too good. I was thin like a match stick. Another time, when I was in danger he helped me. The third time was at night, when I was returning from my civil services exam, and my room matekicked me out of the room. He helped me again and I got a chance to know him closely. Rajoo has the ability to cope with any situation. He has forgiven me for my blunders many times. He has helped me so much. It is only because of him that I am an IAS officer today.

And what about him?

He didn’t achieve his goal. He didn’t want to become an IAS officer.

What did he want then?

His goal was different.

That means he wasted his father’s money and betrayed him. Didn’t he?

No, he did not.

He helped us. And when we were studying, he was busy sketching his future.

What?

Would you like to know who he is?

Yes.

He is young fashion designer Rajan Pathak.

What? Really?

Yeah.

Tell me more about him.

I know his address.

I would like to meet him.

Three days later at a shop in Jaunpur…

Bhaiya, can you tell me where this address is?

Of course.On seeing the address… Madam, if you stay here for a few minutes, this person will pass by here.

Thanks bhaiya

Two minutes later…

Madam, do you see that person?

Yes thanks. I know him.

…………………………………..

Hello sir, I am Kumud. I am a reporter.

‘With or without luggage?’

Sorry sir, I don’t want to bother you. But Ican’t help it. This is my profession.

‘All lies.’

What, sir?

‘Nothing, did I say anything?’

Perhaps, sir.

‘What do you want?’

Sir, Satyam told me about you.

Satyam?

Sorry sir. Satyam sir told me about you and his friendship.

"But now I’m displeased with him.’

I know it.

You know it?

Yes, sir. Would you like to tell me more about yourself? I want to write a novel about you.

You first tell me why Satyam told you about us.

As I told you I am a reporter. And sir, you are a designer. I want to do something special…something that is different from my job.

You are lying.

No sir. Believe me.

Okay. I see that you are tired. So would you like to come to my home? I will tell you the whole story on the way.

Great idea. Yes, I am very tired.

Okay. I am going to reveal my story only to you.

EXAM RESULTS

One

I love my country. I love middle-class families and I love their dreams too. Oh, I just love them all. After all, India is mine. I am proud of being an Indian.

Today I am happy because I have a perfect life. I have achieved my goal. Now, I am totally free. When I think back of my life as a student, I realise that I had many problems and difficulties and I wanted to get rid of them the easy way. But then, I did not have the means to mend them or the ideas to solve them.

As a student, I followed this philosophy: More study means more confusion, no study means no confusion.

I did not want to join con with fusion. Con means the art of cheating somebody; fusion means the process of joining two or more things together to form one. When cheating is mixed with fusion, it leads to confusion.

When I was in class 10, I was always confused but I was happy. I had several friends. But they were not very close friends.

On May 31, my exam results were to be announced. I was happy. I was at a computer centre, standing in front of the computer operator. He asked to me, Do you want to see your results?

Yes, I said.

Class 10results are very poor. Many students have failed, he said to me.

First of all, you tell me how what per cent results have come out?I interrupted him.

Only 45 per cent, he replied.

My heart beat increased. It was beating 85times in a minute. I felt ill. Most boys would have faced this condition and can understand how I felt. I was nervous, but I wrote my roll number and gave it to the computer operator.

The computer operator wasn’t a good looking man. He was an elderly man. But his actions were not too full of manners. May be he believed in the ‘ladies first’ policy. He took the girls’ roll numbers first and then the boys’.

It wasn’t fair according to me because girls and boys are equal in my opinion. Leave it for now.

After waiting for long, my results came on the computer screen. I closed my eyes.

Pass, the computer operator said in a heavy voice.

Yes! I said. Wow...

There’s no need to cheer, the computer operator said in an ominous tone.

What? I asked.

Second division, he replied.

Okay, okay…

You would have passed second division with grace marks, he replied.

Oh! No. I said to myself.

Do you want a print out?

Yes, I replied in a mellow tone.

I took the print out in my hand and glanced at it. I had obtained the following marks……….

Sub. Marks Total Grade Grand total

Hindi 1/30 2/27 57

English 1/22 2/33 55

Math 1/08g 2/18 26

Science 1/15 2/14 3/15 44 A

Social studies. 1/35 2/2………………………to be continued

Mark sheet is incomplete from Board…………….

I was the only unlucky person whose results had come out incomplete from the UP board. How did the computer operator tell me that I had passed with second division? I wanted to ask him but I didn’t.

I knew that there is no use in crying over spilt milk but I couldn’t control my feelings. Like most things and people in my life, the UP board too had messed with me and submitted an incomplete mark sheet on the Internet. What was the problem with my results?

I drowned in a deep river of grief. I wanted a second chance to improve my results. What would I tell papa? Were my results too poor? Soft tears fell on the rough ground.

Time and circumstances make even gentlemen take to drinking. I too wanted to drink but I had no money. I wanted to abuse my teachers. And I did so. I did not want to see their faces again and I did not want go to my coaching class. Super Mind Coaching Class, it was called.

Two

I had passed with grace marks. It was the result of my honesty. I had tackled the questions and problems with pen and paper. But I had also played T20 on my paper.

I did not want to go home. But I had to go.

My father, J. B. Pathak, is an advocate. He is my poor father and I am his rich son by heart. Did I tell you I am Rajan Pathak and my nickname is Rajoo? I have three sisters - Priyanka, Seema and Preeti. My mother’s name is Ganga.

My father is a fighter and I am his enemy. He is a light hearted person, but he can also get really angry person. I did not want to tell my father about my results.

My mother is a typical Indian house wife who loves watching Hindi films. My father is like a villain in south Indian films. I call my three sisters the three witches from Shakespeare’s Macbeth. And they call me Kansh and my future wife the fourth witch.

That evening...

My father sat in front of me and I stood facing my father.

How many marks have you obtained? he asked.

He took the white paper on which my results were printed out.

What nonsense? You secured only 45 per cent marks? How? He asked.

I don’t know because I wasn’t the examiner, I replied.

No! That is not the answer to my question. Tell me. Do you have any strong reason for your failure, my father asked me.

I don’t know but I can tell you only the reason for my failure in math. Maybe because I had erased my rough work.

My father’s anger knew no bounds. He slapped me with his slipper on my cheeks. My ear got a severe blow.

I felt ashamed of myself. It was the first time my father had beaten me with his sleeper. He usually only beat me with his hand. I wanted a second chance. I did not say anything to my father and quietly went into my bedroom and wept bitterly.

I wanted to say something to my father but I couldn’t. That time I felt the need for a good friend who could feel my grief. I had several boys as friends but no girlfriend. I longed for a girlfriend. I had always felt lonely in this beautiful world. My friends had many girlfriends. But I wanted only one girl.

I mourned over my results. Then a relative of mine came over to me and advised me not to mourn as this wasn’t the end of life. Don’t abuse yourself as you worked hard. Maybe god has other things in mind for you. Go find your goal. Best of luck! I am your well-wisher, he advised. He also suggested I go to a movie to take my mind off the exam results. I did not want to go anywhere but he dragged me out with him.

After returning from the theatre, I drowned into a deep sea of sorrow. My dream of becoming an engineer was shattered. I said a little prayer to god and told him I would accept whatever he handed over to me with grace. Then I drifted to sleep.

Three

Next day, I woke up early in the morning. I was still low. My exam results were probably due to my over confidence. I was sad but I was happy too, because I was the only student who had passed second division with grace. A few other students had also passed with grace, but they were from the first division.

I came out of my room. My father saw me and asked, How are you feeling?

Not too well.

Oh! Are you displeased with me?he asked in a soft tone.

No! I am happy you beat me. I deserve it. Please beat me up with your slippers again, I said.

Oh! Now, that’s the reason for your grief.

Come on, dad. Don’t try to be what you aren’t.

What do you mean by that? Tell me.

Innocent!

Oh! If I act like your friend, then there won’t be any difference between a father and a friend. I am your father, not friend.

Don’t even try to become my friend. If I had a friend like you, I would have gone mad.

Enough! I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go somewhere for a holiday.

No thanks. The fact that you asked is good enough for me.

As you wish.

I took a long breath.

A week later…

Papa, I want to study science with math in intermediate.

No way. You are weak in both science and math. You passed high school with grace. And you obtained 26 marks in your math paper. And your science marks too aren’t good enough.

Papa, I will try to work harder.

What? Were you not working hard till now?

After a long silence, my father asked me, Tell me, why did you not work hard for your high school exams?

I did. I tried to work hard.

What do you mean you tried? my father screamed. Don’t try. Do it. Don’t take things easily. Your carelessness got you nowhere.

Okay. Then you tell me what I should do. Which stream is better for me?

Arts.

What?

Yeah!

No! Why? It is not fair, father. I said I will work hard.

It’s not only fair but very fair.

Why father? I am saying I will work hard. But you don’t want to listen to me. Why?

What will you do after studying math and science? You can only become an engineer or a doctor.

Oh my god! Father, try to understand. These are modern times and you are living in an ancient period. I don’t want to study art. The spiritual thoughts required for that are beyond me.

No, you don’t have any other option.

‘But father, the arts stream is for girls not boys."

Yeah! But you are no wiser than girls.

‘Don’t say that. I am 16 years old."

I know that, but do you know that?

But papa, just……………

No! It is my final decision for you and your career, he said and went away.

Okay, I said with a heavy heart.

I wanted to appeal to my father’s emotions, but he is acruel man. If only children could give career advice to their parents, I would have advised my father to become a south Indian film villain.

Four

Two days later………..

I was in the T.D. College campus. T.D. College was one of the most popular colleges in my town. I bought an admission form from the counter. Just then a young boy appeared in front of me. He was wearing a Being Human t-shirt.

Hello, he said.

Hi, I replied.

Who are you? He asked.

I wanted to say Ra-one but did not.

I am Rajan. Rajan Pathak.

Rajan Pathak. What a funny name! Like your shoes, he teased me.

I wanted to call him a fool and abuse him but I didn’t.

Yeah! Me and my shoes are funny thanks to my fate, I said.

Fate! Do you believe in such things? Everything depends on your hard work in this world, he said.

"Don’t give me gyan."

Really, what’s your problem? Tell me.

You and your nonsense talk.

Okay. Would you like be friends with me?

‘You are not my type. You made fun of me. I don’t want you as a friend. From the way you look, I know your upbringing is different."

I understand. But I want to be friends with you.

You are a fool. We are strangers. I don’t know anything about you. So, I can’t accept your friendship.

Why? I am a boy and so are you. But you are behaving like a girl.

No! I am not a girl. I am hearing this word again.

It seems that you area girl.

Don’t call me a girl. I abused him.

Do not abuse me, he said.

Now, I am going home.

Go to hell, devil.

I stared at him.

Go, go, devil.

I was irritated with his laugh. I left the place. As I neared Rahat Restaurant, I overheard someone talking about an ongoing cricket match between Jaunpur and Varanasi.

I was keen to see Jaunpur’s boys bat. So, I went to the ground where the cricket tournament was being held. I saw many Sachins and Gangulys in action. I was bored with the batting of the Jaunpur team and the bowling of Varanasi.

Not that I was a terrific cricket player. Once, wanting to prove my mettle in batting and bowling, I had talked to the