A Pinch of Hope in a Bowl of Life

By Veena Sethuraman

Love has many forms. Every seeker may have their own journey towards it, each one filled with its own set of obstacles and life lessons.

For Gayathri, a chance encounter with a Gynaecologic Oncologist reminds her of her own belief in a soulmate and helps her embrace self-love. For Charanjeet, love is about getting over his helplessness and working to strengthen his marriage, building his family. Joseph had to first encounter himself, deal with his own anger and shame to find his expression, before he could accept someone’s love. Ranganayaki’s journey is that of learning to stand up for herself in an unsupportive environment and yet viewing the world through the lens of humour along with her strong faith on her ‘Ranga’. Suraiya had to allow the churning in her to realize that self-care is not selfish, while facing up to her disappointing marriage and walking out of it.

They say Love Conquers All; here are stories of a few common people who had to break the shackles – sometimes of traditions, sometimes of societal norms and at times even their own expectations to reach their destinations. As they conquered, they embodied HOPE.

After all, LOVE is the source of HOPE.

• Language: English
• Publisher: One Point Six Technologies Pvt Ltd
• Release date: Sep 27, 2021
• ISBN: 9789354582592

Veena Sethuraman

Veena Sethuraman is a Learning & Leadership Development Consultant by profession and a Psychotherapist by passion. She loves the art and science behind human behaviours and enjoys the intricacies of life. As a life-long learner, Veena enjoys juggling between her various passions including healing self and others through therapy, facilitating behavioural workshops, writing, binge-watching, reading and traveling.Veena is a proponent of diversity & inclusiveness and mental health awareness. In this capacity, she works closely with LGBTIQ community to amplify their voices and is a board member of the community based organization ‘Queerala’ based out of Kochi. Veena has spoken at TEDxBangaloreWomen based on her observations about trollers. She lives in Bangalore with her family.You can reach her at [e-mail].

Book preview

Umeed…

From ashes, he emerged,

Through words he was reborn,

No. He is not a phoenix,

He is the epitome of Umeed –

The ultimate hope.

Before

Joseph stared at his reflection in the mirror. And his reflection stared back at him.

The tears flowed down his cheeks as he continued his stare.

‘But, why? Why is this happening to me? What am I doing wrong?’

He wanted to scream. Shout at the top of his voice. Throw things around. He was angry.

But all he did was cry silently. Without any sound, his body was shaking. He covered his face with his palms. He was afraid that people in the house may hear him crying. He double checked to ensure his room was locked from the inside.

‘What the hell is wrong with me?’

It happened again at school today. Sujoy, Munojit, Areef and Raman ensured that a few others laughed along with them at Joseph.

"Aey bokachoda…Are you a man? You wouldn’t tease that girl? Who do you think you are? A saint? Hahhaha…no! You are a coward. Coward! You are the biggest coward I have seen. Whom are you scared of? That skinny girl?"

As Sujoy said this, Raman shouted Josi is a coward! Josi is a coward! like a slogan.

Munojit shouted at Sujoy and Raman "Guys…he is not a coward! Stop saying that! Josi …….is….a …Hijra! Got it? He emphasized. HIJRA!!! JOSI IS A HIJRA!" HAHHAHA! What are you Josi?? Adhagodha!"

Areef felt left out of this fun. So, he joined the others, as well, by clapping his hands. He mocked using a seductive tone deliberately… "Haai…Haaiii… Yē balabēna nā…. don’t say that guys…he is not coward or hijra…Heeee…..issss….JOWHRA… hahahha."

All of them laughed louder seeing Areef’s actions. They stood around Joseph and started shouting by clapping their hands, touching him randomly.

Joseph’s jaw tightened. He was sweating profusely. But he continued to look down at his feet and stared at the ant trying to get on to his slippers.

‘I shouldn’t cry here. If I cry now, they will tease me more. How do I escape along with that ant?’

He tried to distract himself from the absurd festivity around him.

He focused keenly on the way the ant was climbing up his leg, while listening to all the voices around him.

He doesn’t like girls.

He doesn’t fight like us.

He is a loner.

He is a coward.

Who is he?

Joseph could hear Munojit’s voice in the background.

I will answer. Sujoy said.

No. I will answer. Raman protested.

"No. Let all of us answer. That gandu is…123…start…" Areef took the lead.

JOSEPH all of them shouted.

Joseph felt like vomiting. On their faces.

He started breathing heavily.

‘I must run. Else, I will die. They will kill me.’

He bent down to pick up that ant.

After ensuring that the ant was on his palm, he closed his fist.

And he ran.

He ran as if this was the last race of his life.

"Oye run….Chood…. run…"

Banchod…

Foga…

Thor boga terra...gandu

As he ran, those hateful name-calling voices in the background became feeble. The faster he ran, the frailer those voices became.

He ran till he could not hear those voices, anymore. Then he stopped, abruptly. He carefully opened his palms. That ant was still sitting in the middle of his palm, petrified.

Are you scared? Me too! Don’t worry. Nothing will happen.

He carefully placed the ant along the wall, nearby.

Almost reaching his house, he stopped running and caught his breath. He took a comb from his bag and corrected his unkempt appearance.

‘Jose…be calm. Don’t panic.’

He walked into his house with an indifferent expression. Went straight to his room. Locked it from the inside. Went in front of the mirror and stood looking at his reflection.

He, slowly, touched his face - moving his hands to his eyes, nose, lips, chin, cheeks staring at his reflection.

He noticed his reflection in tears.

‘Why? Why do they hate me? Why am I not like them?’

‘I don’t like teasing girls. I don’t get excited talking about girls’ bodies. I don’t like to fight with people. I don’t like to tease others. I don’t like to hurt others for my own happiness. For this, I am punished….Earlier all of them were my friends. Now they are my enemies.’

‘Why am I different? They all hate me now. How can I make all of them treat me as their friend? Don’t they see it? I like to be their friend. I want to have fun with them.’

‘But…something is wrong with me….what is it?’

Unfortunately, neither his reflection nor his mind could answer him.

Life was kind, beautiful and normal till about two years ago.

Being the youngest of three kids, Joseph was pampered by everyone in and around his family. From the time he remembered, he had not been scolded or beaten by his parents or his siblings. He has always felt that his Ma loved him more than she loved his eldest sister Cherin and his elder brother George.

Baba had come to Kolkata on his own when he was only 10 years old. After working hard in odd jobs, he had started a small sweet shop in Monilal Shah Lane. He had just married Ma when he opened this sweet shop. Under the influence of Baba’s love for Ma, he borrowed her name for the shop and named it ‘Christie Bakers and Sweets.’

Over time, as Christie’s family blossomed from just two to five members, Baba’s Christie shop, also, blossomed from 410 Sq Ft to 2800 Sq Ft. Now, Baba has 10 people working for him.

He decided to combine a family home and his business. So, he decided to build a 3-bedroom house just above the shop.

‘Cherin Didi teased Baba that he missed Ma when he was in the shop and that’s why this arrangement. Whenever Cherin Didi teased Ma, she would become shy and pretend to scold her and change the subject by asking her to study.’

Baba always told them that their success was because of Ma. From the first day, Baba would give Ma all the money that he earned. Ma used it wisely, to spend and save. She would know the details of every expense while building their home.

‘Baba managed the shop and the business. Ma managed Baba, us and money.’

Ma had not studied much - she had completed the 10th grade. But she read voraciously. Apparently, she got this habit from her parents who had a book shop. In fact, Christies’ mother was so much in love with Agatha Christie, that she named her daughter after her.

Christie did not leave any paper unread. She would read the wrappers when she unpacked the groceries. She would ask Baba to get her any Bengali or English magazines. Gradually from magazines, she progressed to bigger books.

‘I don’t know the names of those books. But I know that Ma enjoys reading those.’

Whenever she got time, Ma would read.

‘Whenever we have visitors, Ma can talk with them for hours about politics, arts and literature. Baba on the other hand is quiet. May be because, Baba does not read, he does not know much, apart from the business.’

The eldest was Cherin, who was 5 years older than Joseph, and George was 3 years older.

Joseph was only 15. Before the drama unfolded in his life, he had an ideal childhood. As the apple of the eye in his small beautiful family, he never had any struggles. He scored well in school exams. He was calm and composed. Ma proudly told others I have never seen Joseph crying or getting angry for anything. He is such a blessed child. He didn’t have any disappointments, heartbreaks or physical wounds. His childhood was almost perfect.

But, now with the sudden turmoil that had hit him in the last two years, he felt tired and older. And the worst part was, he doesn’t even know what has hit him. He just knew that something had changed and his life was not the same, anymore.

It all started when Joseph was thirteen. That was the first time Raman got a porn book to school. During the lunch break, he asked the rest of the gang to follow him to the big banyan tree behind the school. Then, he took the book out as though he was taking out a rabbit out of a hat in a magic show.

WOW! How did you manage to get this? Sujoy was all admiration for Raman.

Do not ask me, what, why and how. Just enjoy what I have got! Raman replied self-righteously.

As they all went through each page with pictures of women posing in partly concealed breasts or revealing cleavages, naked navels and half covered bottoms, there was a lot of excitement and hush-hush.

Initially, Joseph did not understand what this excitement was all about. After a while, the pictures became sexier and graphic, and he could not look at them anymore. Instead of excitement, he felt a numbness. He was afraid to express himself. He pretended as if he was excited.

He was relieved when it was all over.

‘Thank God! I don’t need to pretend anymore.’

However, this routine continued on a daily basis. The episode became a series. He realized he couldn’t pretend to be excited anymore. He started to withdraw.

One day, he told Munojit he would not be joining them for the afternoon session under the banyan tree, Munojit got upset.

"Abae chood…. Do you think we are jokers? When we call you, you are such a big hero that you don’t want to join us?" Munojit came towards Joseph.

Munojit…I…I did not think anything about any of you. I just don’t want to see those pictures. That’s it. Joseph stammered.

‘Why are you taking this so personally? This is not about you! This is about me! Don’t you see it?? I don’t want this!’

"Abae chutia…gandu….you don’t want to see the pictures? Hahahha….to enjoy those pictures, you need a penis! Not a pussy! Haramjadae… Āsā…come….if you have one, prove it. Fight with me. Let us see who wins. And whoever wins is a man!" Munojit was unstoppable.

Munojit…please. Let us not fight. I don’t like to fight. We are friends. We don’t need to fight to prove such silly points. Please understand… Joseph pleaded and stepped backwards.

Oh…for you…these are silly points? Things that we do are silly? Now I know! Saying this, Munojit closed his fist and hit Joseph’s nose.

Tears came rushing to Joseph’s eyes because of the pain. More of a mental pain.

As he collapsed onto the floor, people came running towards them, pulled Munojit away and started consoling him.

‘I am the one to be consoled here. He attacked me! Why is no one coming near me or talking to me?’

He lay on the floor for some time and got up slowly. He went to his seat to pick up his bag and left the classroom.

‘Where will I go now?’

He wanted some peace and time. He did not want to talk to anyone.

‘How about going to the Sacred Heart Church?’

‘No. I am easily recognizable in nearby churches.’

‘The Tipu Sultan Masjid?’

He did not waste time. He started walking rapidly. Every step he took, he felt his feet were getting heavier; unable to lift his feet.

He did not realize that it was not his feet, but his heart.

‘Why is it so important for me to fight to prove that I am a man? Can’t I be a man if I prefer to be at peace? Can’t I have my own opinions and preferences? Why do I need to have everything the same as everyone else?’

He felt frustrated.

He walked obliviously to the buildings, people, and vehicles. He paused for a second at the entrance of the mosque. He had come here twice before, with Areef and Areef’s Dada.

He removed his slippers, washed his feet, and walked towards the meharb inside the mosque. He saw an old mullah sitting on the steps of the mosque.

He sat next to him, and looked at the mullah’s face

The mullah’s face was defined by wrinkles – a testimony to his survival.

The mullah looked at him and smiled. He tried to return it.

"Agar umeed ki chaadar pe silvate hai,

To unhe rehne do…

Kab tak dikhaave ki

Sajaavat karu main zindagi?"

{If the quilt of hope is wrinkled, let it be. For O life, how long can one keep up the décor of pretence?}

The mullah recited the poem with the calmness of a baby sleeping safely inside the mother’s womb. His words pierced through with a power of the pain that a warrior faces in battle. He, who has just seen many a death in front of his eyes.

Joseph could not control his tears.

‘How did he know that I know Urdu? Is he talking about my life? Why is he saying this to me?’

Because of her love for reading and literature, Ma had ensured that her children learnt at least one language apart from their mother tongue and English. Cherin had opted for French, George learnt Spanish and Joseph learnt Urdu. Ma would then learn from them.

As Joseph’s tears continued to flow, the mullah kept a hand on his head, looked at his tearful eyes and said,

Child…You are blessed. In sha’Allah, you will find your blessing.

‘What is he talking about? I am not blessed. I am cursed.’

Tak tak tak……

Tak tak tak….

Shonaa….come and have dinner. I have made your favourite biriyani today.

As Ma knocked at his room, Joseph suddenly woke up from his dream. He had cried himself to sleep. He looked at his watch and was surprised to see that it was time for dinner.

Shonaaa…

Haa Ma…give me 5 minutes. I will join you.

* *

During

It had been a year since Joseph finished his high school. He had come out top of his batch in 10th grade. His school felicitated him. Science and Math were his strong suits.

Ma and Baba could not have asked for anything more. Baba distributed sandesh, Joseph’s favourite dessert, to everyone who came to his shop. Ma did the same to the families on their lane.

Joseph did not see Munojit, Sujoy, Raman and Areef after that. They had joined a different school for further studies.

Joseph continued with his favourite subjects at St.Xavier’s Collegiate School..

It had been 9 months since he had joined this school.

His routine started by going with his Baba for a walk in the morning, visiting the nearby markets to buy fish and vegetables.

Once he finished that, he would get ready for his school, eat breakfast, and leave by 8.15 AM. He walked a short while till Wellington Crossing. From there he hopped on the Park Circus Tram. He carried a book to occupy himself. On the days there was no book, he observed people hopping in and out of the tram in the 4 stops in-between; Maulana Azad college, Muslim Institute, Goltalab and Ripon street. He got off at Ripon street and walked through Allen Park to reach his school.

His classes started at 9 AM. Lunch was home-made, making it easy for him to sit in his class and eat. Going to the canteen alone was out of the question.

Once his classes were over at 3.30 PM, he took the same route back home.

In the evening, he spent some time with Ma. Cherin and George were never at home till 8 PM, as they preferred to spend their evenings with friends. Then, he would go to his room and study, followed by dinner and sleep.

All this continued for over nine months.

These days, Ma supported Dada for a catering service he had taken up. She grew busier in the evenings.

‘I am sick of this routine. Everyone is having fun except me. No one cares. All are just busy with their lives. I am almost invisible.’

This thought had been nagging Joseph, for a while.

It was almost like an unsaid grief - going through pain without knowing what it was for. Painful, irritating and energy-draining. Difficult to ignore. Difficult to shed. Like an invisible burden on his shoulders all through the day and night.

‘I can sense it. But I can’t see it.’

Sometime in February, before the school shut down for study holidays, Joseph came back home joyfully, one evening.

Just looking at him, Ma asked Shona…what happened? You seem to be very happy.

Ma…my Physics teacher appreciated me in front of the entire class today. She said ‘Joseph, you have the potential to become an Einstein. Others, learn from Joseph how to study with keen interest on the subject. Joseph, do help others to study like you.’ This made me so happy Ma.

"Aaha… Sābāśa…Shona. I am very proud of you." She kissed him on his forehead.

Exams were completed in March. Soon, it was time to get back to school in May.

Ma…today one of my classmates got me a samosa from home and thanked me for helping him in preparing for the Math exam. I felt good. Joseph shared this with Ma as soon as he entered home.

Cherin, who was at home that day overheard this and said Dude, that’s awesome. But where is samosa for me? It’s unfair to eat it alone!

Ma laughed, and said I am so happy to hear this Shona.

In June, one evening, Joseph went to look for Ma after school Ma….

Haa…Shona…I am in the bedroom. Come here… Ma responded.

Ma…I want to tell you something…uh... Joseph paused.

Haan Shona...tell me…What happened? Ma sensed Joseph’s hesitation.

Whatever it is…you can tell me…go ahead. She assured him.

Ma…I think someone is following me during the evenings when I am returning home. I sensed this during the last one week. Not sure, who it was. But I felt it. When I turned around, I didn’t see anyone suspicious. What do I do?

Hmm…from when was this? Ma was concerned.

I think it started last Friday. Joseph recalled.

Ok Shona...…let us wait for a few more days…and see if this happens again. Let me know if it happens next time. Don’t worry…. we will sort this out. She hugged him.

On Monday the following week, Joseph ran inside the home panicking and breathing heavily.

MAAAA.......................

He shouted as soon as he entered the house.

Ma came running towards the entrance.

Shona….

Joseph interrupted her Ma….I think I was followed again…. and he threw a stone at me today… Even before he completed this statement he started crying profusely.

Ma tried to console him Shona…let us see what can be done about this. Don’t worry Shona. She cried along as she hugged him.

Ma…whoever it is…I think they are trying to kill me… Joseph said as he continued to cry.

Shona... nothing will happen to you. We are with you. I will speak to Baba today. He will come with you to school tomorrow to identify the culprit. Ma seemed to be searching for the right words.

Next morning, Baba accompanied him and did the same in the evening back from school.

Chris…I did not see anyone following him. I walked a few feet behind to stay hidden. But I did not see any one suspicious enough. Baba seemed to be in a deep thought while sharing this with Ma.

Maybe he or they saw you and knew that you are with Joseph today. Should we give a police complaint? You cannot go with him every day. We have to make him feel safe. Ma suggested.

Hmm… I will go and meet Paromjit Sir tomorrow. He knows the local police commissioner. Maybe they can help find this person. Ma sensed the tension in Baba’s voice.

David…Let him not go to school till we lodge a police complaint... Ma suggested.

Ok…let him stay at home till this is sorted out. I will also feel better that way. Baba said in a worried voice.

Overhearing this, Joseph went to his bedroom.

‘What? Why do they need to go to the police station? Why are they making it such a big problem? If Baba comes with me daily, the problem is solved!’

He tried to sleep with these thoughts.

‘Why am I feeling so restless? If they want to give a complaint, let them give!’

He turned the other side.

‘But, if they give a complaint, what will happen?’

He tried to sit.

‘Won’t