Life Is for Living

By Shailesh Kumar

Step into the world of Shiva and experience his journey from a young schoolboy to a JEE aspirant in a tale of resilience, love, and self-discovery. Set against the backdrop of the early 90s to the mid-2000s, this heart-touching story delves into the intricate web of familial bonds, friendships, and the bittersweet taste of love. Follow Shiva's transformation as he navigates the complexities of adolescence, finding his voice and confidence amidst academic and personal challenges. In the pages of this book, you'll encounter a tapestry of genuine moments – laughter echoing through corridors, contemplative nights under starlit skies, and poignant encounters that tug at your heartstrings. This nostalgic ride isn't merely a tale; it's a vivid, immersive experience that will take you on an absorbed tour through the lives of the characters who’d seem like people you already know from your daily life. As you turn the final page, Shiva's story will linger in your mind, leaving you with a profound sense of nostalgia and a renewed appreciation for the transformative power of family, love and determination.

• Language: English
• Publisher: One Point Six Technologies Pvt Ltd
• Release date: Nov 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9789358833133

Shailesh Kumar

The Author, Shailesh Kumar, is a B.Tech. from IIT Kanpur. He spent his childhood in the city of Allahabad. From a very humble and financially middle class family he became a rank holder in IIT JEE and completed his B.Tech. from IIT Kanpur in the year 2006. He built his career in Operations across different industries like Oil and Gas, manufacturing and E Commerce. He currently works as a Senior Operations Leader in Amazon, Canada. He is 39 years of age as on Oct 2023. He lived his childhood with his parents and his two elder brother and one elder sister and a very few very close friends. This book is a work of fiction and based on some life experiences ofhim. He feels passionate about the story to come out for the readers.Email: [e-mail]

Book preview

Index

Chapter 1: Why Are You Always Behind Me?

Chapter 2: Sorry Boss, Your Loss

Chapter 3: The High Point

Chapter 4: Until We Meet Again

Chapter 5: When We Met

Chapter 6: Cricket-hood

Chapter 7: Clinging Precariously

Chapter 8: The Envelope

Chapter 9: Oxygen for Plant

Chapter 10: Small Tank- Big Shark

Chapter 11: Turbulence

Chapter 12: First Marriage in the Family

Chapter 13: Belly Laughter

Chapter 14: Motichoor

Chapter 15: Happy & Sad

Chapter 16: Rahul Fails the Board Exams

Chapter 17: The Final Sprint - Part 1

Chapter 18: The Final Sprint - Part 2

Chapter 1:

Why Are You Always Behind Me?

It was becoming difficult to breathe anymore. Completely submerged in the water now, I could see nothing. I was trying hard to come to the surface of the river but was struggling to resist the strong currents. As I began to drown, my heartbeat started increasing. The noise of the crowd bathing near me was fading away, and I was struggling to give myself a push to come up to the surface. Gathering all my energy, I gave myself a big push to reach above the surface of the water and saw that the crowd bathing was now more than 100 meters away from me. I had managed to put my head above the surface of the water for just a fraction of a second and soon I was submerged again. I hardly had any breath left to even shout and call for any help anymore. The bright water started becoming gloomy, and I became desperate to come up to the surface of the river and see the sun again. But it felt like the more I pushed, the further I sank towards the river bed.

Drowning and fighting against the strong currents, every second now felt like hours. It is said by some that when you are this close to death, you see in front of your eyes the flashback of your entire life. But I was just seven years old and there were not much of flashbacks that I could have summoned to flash in my mind.

I was always afraid of going for bathing in the strong currents of the holy Ganges river, but my father always used to take me along to bathe in it along with my elder brother, Veer.

I suddenly located a wooden pole in the river. I held the pole as tightly as I could and started trying to climb the pole. It was very slippery, and so I tried to entangle my legs with the pole to push myself up. I kept holding my breath and tried to come to the surface. I somehow managed to climb on top of the pole and put my nose above the water. I spit some of the water that accumulated in my lungs and took a deep breath. I could not see my father anywhere but could see other people bathing near the river bank, which now seemed to have become even more distant.

I started feeling numbness in my hands and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep on fighting against the current while also, at the same time, holding on to the pole. There was a rope attached to the pole which was further attached to another pole. This was actually the danger marking boundary for the devotees who came to take baths in the Ganges.

I gave my body a push to float myself nearer to the surface while holding the pole with both hands. But gradually, as numbness took over one of my hands, I was compelled to take it off and kept holding the pole with only one hand. Realizing that I would soon lose my grip, I entangled one leg with the rope as I continued to hold onto the pole as tightly as I could with my only working hand. I had put myself in an awkward and painful body posture, but this position gave me some much-required stability against the strong currents. For a while I just closed my eyes and cried and then, when I opened them, hoping to finally see my father, I again was met by disappointment as he was nowhere in sight. Then suddenly, amidst the lashing of the water against my face, I spotted a man in the water, away from the riverbank. While that man was trying to swim towards me, he was almost drowning. My hopes of getting help were fluctuating with that man as he tried his best to swim towards me but was finding it hard to maintain his direction. With constant splashes of water crashing against my eyes, it was hard to identify the man.

All of a sudden, I felt a jerk and someone squeezed my other hand. It was Veer bhaiya (Bhaiya is elder brother in Hindi) who was holding my hand and shouting something. He pulled me towards himself and started swimming with one hand against the current. I was almost tucked under his armpit and could not imagine how was he able to pull both himself and me against such a strong current. I felt a deep sense of relief wash over me as my feet touched the side of the river. I immediately stood up and fell again in the water, then got up again and stabilized myself to walk towards the river bank. Bhaiya by now had left my hand and was walking alone towards the bank, where he sat down with both legs still inside the water. I quickly walked up to him and sat down beside him.

It was the auspicious day of Makar Sankranti of Kumbh Mela, and so the Ganges was overcrowded with devotees who had come to take a dip in the holy river.

We started looking around for papa and saw him still taking the bath. I looked at bhaiya and saw him looking towards the sky. He was panting heavily and was looking extremely tired. He had swum for almost 200 meters against the strong currents while pulling me alongside.

How did you see me, I asked bhaiya. He did not reply and kept staring at the sky. He seemed relaxed now. I asked him again. He turned towards me and said, I did not know who it was when I started but, on the way, I realized that it was you.

So you would have risked your life to save anyone, I asked.

It was your life and not mine which was at risk, bhaiya said with a smile.

You know, two days ago, three devotees drowned in this river because of the strong currents. Why did you go that far? What if I would not have come? bhaiya asked in an annoyed tone.

I did not go far. I was moving on my own and, after a few seconds, I could not feel the riverbed. I was trying to come close to papa but was taken far away. Also, mummy (mummy is a Hindi word for Mother) had told me that the Ganges will never harm me, I replied in an innocent tone.

Shall I tell mummy what all has happened? Bhaiya asked, looking deep into my eyes. He always had a smart way of dealing with me.

Before I could respond, I looked up and saw papa standing next to us. I looked at bhaiya with a scared face and, pulling papa away from him, started walking with him to the plank where we had kept our towels and clothes. I kept looking back at bhaiya.

He suddenly started running towards me. He came very close to me and grabbing me by my arms, pulled me up. Then he said with a smile Don't worry, I will not tell anyone.

I laughed, jumped out of his arms, and ran towards papa.

We have not had jalebi for so many weeks now, I said, when I came in front of papa, while walking in reverse. I was waiting for 's response when I hit the plank and fell on the sand.

I quickly stood up though and grabbed the towel from the plank before bhaiya could take it. We all wiped our bodies one by one with the same towel and changed to a fresh dry cloth. I was keeping close to papa to keep reminding him of Jalebi. (Jalebi is a well-known sweet dish in India and it was my favorite thing for breakfast)

papa took out his wallet from the back pocket of his pants and gave 20 rupees to Veer Bhaiya.

Both of you can visit the Mela for the day, but take care of Shiva. He is very small and it's very crowded today, papa said to bhaiya. He is a big man now, he doesn't need any care. bhaiya replied with a witty smile. I just wanted the moment not to elongate even for a second. I started laughing loudly. Papa looked at me with surprise and rode away on his cycle.

I am Shiva. I am seven years old and the youngest in my family, which comprised of my parents, my two elder brothers and one elder sister. My eldest brother, Anil, was twelve years older than me and was already pursuing a diploma from Lucknow while I was in the 2nd standard. He used to come home once a month for two days only. Since my childhood, I have spent little time with Anil bhaiya. Veer bhaiya was eight years older than me and was in the 10th standard while my sister was five years older than me and was in the 7th standard. My mother was a housewife.

I snatched the 20 rupees note from bhaiya as papa began to ride back home.

I will keep it in my pocket and will give you whenever you need it, I said, suddenly stopping my fake laughter. Bhaiya was already holding my hand and now he moved his grip downward to grab my fist, in which I was tightly holding the money. I made my fist even more tight. He tapped on my fist and then left it as we started walking.

Where are we going? What all will we do today? I asked in excitement. Magh Mela is pretty big this year. Let's see what all is there. We have an entire day today, bhaiya replied. He was looking excited too. Magh mela was distributed in over 1000 acres.

Bhaiya, stop, there is a jalebi shop. Let's go there I shouted. Bhaiya signaled the shopkeeper for Jalebi in a way as if he had known him since childhood. We sat on the wooden bench lying next to his wok. He fried some hot Jalebis, and soaked them in the sugar syrup. I couldn't wait anymore and stood up and asked the shopkeeper to give us first. I and bhaiya both even picked a small piece with confidence as if we wanted to taste it before deciding the order quantity. It was superbly crispy and perfectly sweet with an appropriate quantity of sugar syrup soaked in it.

Please give 200 grams Jalebi and 50-gram Curd with it, bhaiya asked the shopkeeper, without looking into his eyes. This time the shopkeeper was looking at us as if we had already eaten those 200 grams. I sat on the wooden bench lying there. Bhaiya kept the plate beside me on the bench and we started eating. I tried to make a halfhalf partition but, very soon, bhaiya's half-part was almost finished. Within no time, the plate and bhaiya's mouth were empty and my mouth was full of Jalebis. I made sure that bhaiya did not get even one gram from my part of the plate.

This is how I was, growing up in the city of Prayagraj in the eastern part of Uttar Pradesh in India. In those times, the city was known as Allahabad. Allahabad is known for Triveni Sangam the three river confluence of the Ganges, Yamuna, and Sarasvati rivers. Allahabad, in the late Vedic period, was also known as Kosambi. The city is popular for the fort that Akbar built which is right at the Sangam, and is also known as the city of Prime Ministers because seven out of 15 Prime Ministers of India since independence had some connection to Allahabad. In those days, the city was most famous for its Magh Mela, which happens every year.

I gave the shopkeeper the 20 rupees note, and he returned the balance in coins. Bhaiya took it and kept it in his pocket.

How much money are we left with? I asked bhaiya while trying to put my hand in his pocket.

10 rupees, He replied, holding my hand. I could easily say from his face that he was lying.

There was a very high scaffold very close to the river bank and one policeman was standing on top of it to keep a view of the entire Magh Mela area.

Can we go on top of that scaffold? I asked bhaiya. But he simply denied.

I, however, jerked my hand out of his grip and ran towards the huge scaffold. But before I could reach the steps, the policeman stopped me. The policeman was not allowing anyone to go on the top. I again ran back to the jalebi shop, which was just next to the loft, and asked bhaiya if he could buy another 100 grams of Jalebi. Bhaiya thought I wanted to eat more so he bought it.

I grabbed the jalebis and, running back to the policeman, offered it to him. The policeman was old and he smiled looking at me. He took the jalebi, and I just stood next to him for some time. By Now bhaiya also was looking at me and was standing very close to me. The policeman, whom I was by now calling ‘police uncle', asked me if I also wanted to eat some jalebis. No, I said, I have bought these for you. He put his hand on my head and gave me his blessings. I kept standing there waiting for him to finish the Jalebi.

Uncle, can I go to the top to see the entire Mela from there? I have my elder brother also to take care of me. Can you please allow us to the top? I said in the most innocent voice and expression that I could make. Police Uncle smiled and called another Police and asked him to take us to the top.

Bhaiya gave me a surprised look but immediately came to me and we went to the top. The stairs were not very sturdy, and the wind was blowing heavily. It was the first time I had seen things at this height. We were almost running on the stairs but saw bhaiya holding the railings of the stairs and taking very careful steps, one at a time.

The sound of the wind had started dominating any other sounds as we approached the top. There was straw laid on the top platform. By now, we were panting heavily. One police officer was lying on a bed of straw. We sat on the farthest point from him. The policeman who walked with us upstairs, woke him up and took out a thin cigarette from his pocket. He asked for the matchbox from the other police officer. While he was searching for it where he was lying, bhaiya went near to the police officer and offered him a matchbox.

The view from the top was mesmerizing, but this scene was becoming more and more interesting to me. Holding a cigarette in his mouth, the police officer looked at bhaiya with his eyebrows up. Bhaiya lit the match and made a closed shape with his two hands in such a way that only a cigarette would go inside that. Within a second, the policeman got his cigarette lit from this cave of fire made inside the two hands of bhaiya. I could see a sudden respect and friendliness between bhaiya and the police officers.

Bhaiya was intermittently looking at me to read my expression on his phenomenal performance. Initially, I thought, he was seeking appreciation from me as well as he was getting from Policemen, but then I saw some fear in his eyes. How is he so perfect in lighting the cigarette? This question gave a sudden happiness inside me and I smiled at bhaiya's confused face.

There was a continuous sound of the bell in the temple. The devotees were queued up in front of the main entrance to Akbar Fort and at Hanuman Temple. The queue appeared to be a kilometer long. The entire Magh mela area was covered with tents. Devotees came from all parts of India and were staying there in those tents. Various saints and religious groups had arranged many big tents. We could hear loudspeakers wherein people were doing recitations and discourses of various Hindu scriptures.

I looked towards the River, and it was looking giant even from this height. I tried to look for the wooden pole which saved my life this morning an hour ago. Now I could see a few boats beyond those danger-marking points continuously patrolling for rescue operations. Thousands and thousands of people were taking baths in the Ganges and the river looked like molten gold in the orange lights of the sun. The view was very mesmerizing and me and bhaiya just sat there for some time and kept watching it.

Ghats (River Bank where people were going for baths) were created in multiple numbers. Hundreds of Pundits were sitting on the (Chauki) Wooden Planks and were conducting different sorts of rituals for the devotees.

Would you guys spend the entire day here today? The police uncle came and said sarcastically. Bhaiya stood up, pulled me up, and we started going downstairs. We started walking. On our way, we saw some of the exhibitions and noticed that some recitations were happening and groups of saints were engaged in prayers. The mela was set up on the river bank and on the delta of the River Ganges. Long metal plates were put on the sand for motor vehicles to run in the mela areas. There was a bridge on the river made up of huge metal casks. The bridge was fun to walk on. It was swinging up, down and sideways on the water's surface.

This side of the mela was dedicated more towards temples, bhajans, spiritualism, exhibitions, etc. Many people from villages came there and were also shopping for things which were being sold on the side of the pathways. There were also many foreigners who would spend months in tents at the bank of the Ganges.

Apart from taking pictures of the mela, they also loved to connect with the villagers and take their pictures as well.

We spent over two hours there and then moved to the road which was connecting to the other part of the mela. The road was sloping up and then sloping down towards the other part of the Mela area. At the top point of the road, I