Money matters !!

Many people envy upon the way, I handle my finances. Though, I'm not a die hard money maker or a materialistic fellow, in a very short period, I had managed to strike a perfect balance between expense, savings and investment. A very few knew that this wisdom did not came by birth.

My dad is a govt employee (electrical engineer) and he spends whatever he earns. Till 10 years back, the salary was hardly able to meet the expense. He had loans for house, vehicle etc. Though my mom had been responsible, all through, she didn’t had the acumen to make the money grow. She had put our education as priority and always strived to give the highest quality education for me and my two younger brothers. She gives a decent pocket money, which I used to spend on my will. I didn’t have the good habit of saving till recently.


The company called for medical examination. From Karaikudi, I took roughly around Rs. 700/- (in 2001) and left to Chennai by bus (around 9 hours of travel). The company insisted to stay for one more day in Chennai as they wanted to issue the appointment letter, immediately after the results of my medical examination that is to be received the next day.

[ I still remember that particular medical examination, - a beautiful nurse asked me to strip off my shirt in an isolated room for taking ECG readings. I was 21 then and had a great physic, thanks to the sports, I play. But I generally feel shy to strip off the shirt before any girl then. (Yeah, an instinct opposite to Salman's.... ) But the nurse insisted to strip off. my shirt. As I laid down with my bare chest, she applied a jelly cream on many places including hips, ankles, chest etc. While the scented aroma from her body was intoxicating, I was feeling tickled at the mere act of application of the jelly. She smiled on my innocence (u know, I rarely enter a hospital those days. I was experiencing ECG measurement for the first time). She studiously took the readings, and after the completion of recording, she showed the first sign of that animal instinct. She took a cotton and slowly (seducingly, pressing her vital parts against my body) wiped the cream off from my body. I was a virgin then, and was yielding to her in steps, just then, the doctor yelled for her. She gave me a smile and ran behind the sound. I got up and dressed.]


I didn't plan for staying the second day. I had very limited money to stay in a hotel. Also, I need money for returning back. The cheapest bus fare is Rs. 111/- The medical results were fantastic and I got the appointment letter for my first ever job on 28th of June (thursday). The company told my to report at Kolkata office on July 2nd (monday). I was nervous as well as excited. I had only enough money, just to reach my home. I took a town bus to go to the bus stand. I bought a ticket for Rs. 5/- and was seated in the last seat. I was mentally transported to the act of reaching kolkata, a distant and foreign place then, and the adventures waiting for me to face there.

Before the bus reached the bus stand, a couple of ticket checkers entered in to the bus and checked for tickets. When they asked me, I shoved up the crushed ticket that I was tightly holding in my fists. The ticket had become wet off my sweat and even crushed enough such that the start point and end point is indecipherable.

The ticket checker got me out of the bus and fined Rs. 50/-. I was startled as well as embarrassed by his stubbornness. If I give him that money, I wouldn't have enough to reach my home back. As he was not yielding for my innocent requests, I offered to give him my gold watch, instead of that 50 bucks. I actually handed over the watch to the ticket checker. He thought for a second and returned the watch. He spared me. oh!! That one moment, I really felt empty, a kind of a feeling that's hard to express. Even few tear bubbles appeared on my eyes. I swore myself to keep emergency cash, then onwards.


I reached home early in the morning next day. I conveyed the good news to my mom and the urgency to start my trip to kolkata. Those days, the flights were reserved for richie rich and they were not even in the sight. After a nap, I checked out for the tickets to kolkata in train (say around 9:00 AM, on friday.) Surprisingly, There were tickets available in trichy - howrah mail, that's starting at trichy (about 2 and half hrs from my home) at 3:00 PM same day.
The train reaches on sunday morning. It was around 10 AM, and I hardly had time to tell people and friends. Even my mom didn't have much time to react, (That's good in some sense, otherwise, she would have stuffed my bag with 10 kgs of eatables for me to use for next one month in Kolkata.), she just gave me a cash of Rs. 5000/- for me to survive the first month in Kolkata. I called up dad over phone in his office and left for my adventure trip from Trichy. My mom waved her hands off in tears (the typical mixed feeling, son becoming great, but going far off.) But she didn't had any clue then, that she's not going to see her son for next one and half years.......

Let me narrate my kolkata experiences later. Just after 15 days of induction in kolkata, I was posted at lucknow. The first day, I went to the lucknow factory was incidentally my birthday, and I carried dairy milk chocolates with me. The very first day, the General manager of the factory handed over the sunday classifieds and asked me to settle down at a house convinient for me. That was quite a dismay for me. A city, I haven't heard of earlier, all in the midst of strangers, a school boy has to settle himself ( I refused to accept that I've already grown up). Incidentally, I didn't know hindi too!!

I looked up to the challenge, - sometimes these are softer yet worth enough kind. I endup finding a PG accomodataion at Mahanagar, owned by a Bengali. There were a couple of guys already staying there. One is sandeep, a smart engineer working in a Geo-satelite company. The other one is Akilesh, working in SAHARA. Akilesh is short (may be 5 feet),an MBA, and had a Maruti 800 then. Akilesh was one of a kind, I haven't seen another one of the same kind yet. He drinks 3 bottles of bear a day, except thursdays and sundays. Sundays, He goes to his house and therefore, no drinking. Thursdays because he thinks that day is auspicious day in a week. Come winter, he switches over to Whiskey, that too, measured, 2 pegs a day. Everyday, before he starts his drink, he washes himself thoroughly, and prays god for 15 minutes.

In a couple of days or so, I also started giving company for his drinking. But i used to readily give the share of money, for the share I drink.I believe and has experienced, that money (taken for granted) gives great trouble to the relationships and even friends. One day, he said let's go to the pub. I didn't see any point in that, but made sure that all three are sharing the cost. Just as we were heading to the pub, he stopped the car in a beer shop. He reasoned that, we all drink a quick beer here and will head on to the pub (for drinking the two more bottles). I drink only Haywards 5000 (a brand concious fellow then), a strong beer, while others resorted to light bear. Prior to that day, I never had beer more than 2 bottles. The pink panther is the only air-conditioned pub in Gole market. We took a corner seat and was engrossed in the kick.

Next day morning, I woke up on my cot, stiff. I checked my purse immediately, It had only Rs. 10/-. The last thing what I remembered was the first glass of second beer. It was 10'O clock, and the others had gone to office. It's only around a week in my new job at lucknow factory, and I'm reaching at 11:00. Unlike offices, factories follow strict timings. In the evening, I went upto Akilesh and enquired straight about the money (Rs. 1200/-) I had. He behaved smart and gave a teaser back.

" U damn stupid, What will we do if U had drunk so much and fainted? I've paid for the beers, we drank on the beer shop. U got to pay in the bar, but U were out of senses."

"So??"

"SO what??"

It was a cheat, a planned cheating. He had paid 160 bugs for three beers in the bear shop, but he had taken 1200 for the beers we had in Pink panther.

I was taken aback, but couldn't do much. For me, it's a strange place, with strange language, and the first friend I run into has evolved as a great cheat. I argued and taken a couple of hundreds back, but that's all I could. I swore this time, to drink only on saturdays, and drink with great caution, especially with strangers.

After few months, I was really missing my bike. With one of my friend’s suggestion, I bought a Hero Honda passion, by loan from ICICI at 9% interest rate. Following me, another friend of mine bought the same bike (a loan at 16% interest rate). Interestingly his EMI is far less than mine. On discussion, with him, I came to know that the interest quoted by ICICI (9%) was actually flat rate, which actually means 24% of reducing interest rate. For a loan of 35K, I paid 5K more than my friend. Prior to that insight, I didn’t even know that interest rate is negotiable. (Even the bank advertises as “best deals” and not as “Low interest rates”. ) I resolved myself to understand more about interest rates, and the way they are calculated.

Soon after, I took loans after bargaining for the lowest possible reduced interest rate. Surprisingly, ICICI gives the lowest rate also.

[ Typical conversation goes like this:

Razigan: What’s the interest rate?

ICICI rep: 9% interest rate and not negotiable.

Razigan: Flat or reducing??

ICICI rep: the EMI is this much. It is very low for such a kind of loan.

Razigan: Flat or reducing??

ICICI rep: !! flat…..

Razigan: That means 24% reducing…… I’m getting 14% reducing at UTI. Thank you.

As I move,

ICICI rep: that is not possible sir. They cannot give so low…..

Razigan: Thank u!!

ICICI rep: OK, wait a minute, let me speak to my Boss and get back to u……..

After few seconds, My boss have agreed to give u 14.5%.

Razigan: Why should I give u 0.5% more, actually unless u give 0.5% less, I’m going to UTI.

……… ]

So, I’ve become smart in taking loans, but yet, at any point of time, I was paying a handsome amount of money as EMI for every silly reason.

With time, my salary was going high. I was looking for good tax savers. Mutual funds were the fastest (3 yrs lock in period). I locked the money in Mutual funds. Soon I have grown greedy about earning money from stocks. I put a bit more of sense in stock market. At times, I used to pay three EMIs, and also invest money in stocks.

I know there was a lack of clarity in my understanding. Though I was having lot of investments, my networth was always negative (i.e., Outstanding loans are more than my assets). I looked out for understanding investments, savings and loans……, I picked the best seller book, “RICH DAD POOR DAD” from Roberto Kiyolski. That book became the starting point of my financial acumen.

All through my life, I had never been stingy. I live the life and strive to live the life with colors, with a subtle effect for money and what money can buy. It had been fantastic yet.

Four years from the day, I took the book, here I’m – A millionaire.

Survival instincts

It was the eve of diwali (festival of lights and crackers). I was only 11 then. Our home was situated in Pasumalai (a hill near madurai, Tamilnadu), as a part of state electricity board quarters. I set off on a ride on the bicyle that my uncle has parked on my house. I was just learning to ride the big size cycle then. Twenty metres from my house, the connecting road slopes down at 45 degrees for hundred meters. Then it takes a sharp and flat left turn (failing which it leads to free fall of twenty meters). Then again a slopy right turn (about 20 degrees) follows for another fifty meters to reach the ground level. As I pedaled the cycle through the slope, the cycle picked up good speed. Suddenly, when I tried to have the speed in control, I noticed that the break was missing. I didn’t have much to think anything else. I somehow succeeded in turning the first turn. But the second one was very sharp and there was a big speed breaker which toppled the cycle in a second. I fell flat on the road with chest rubbing down the slope of the road. My uncle and my dad rushed to me and admitted in the nearby hospital. Everybody there ignored the failure of break and was scolding me for riding the big size bicycle. I was feeling a burning sensation allover the body. The whole front part of my body had bruises, even the skin got peeled off at many places. (Forehead chest, stomach, thighs, knees etc.). The doctor applied medicine all over, and dressed with white bandage. On the day of diwali, I couldn’t even fire a single cracker. All of my friends and brothers were dancing, and feasting while I was crimping at one corner of the house like a specimen in a medical hospital. But the point to be noted is: As an amateur driver of the cycle, driving at high speed from the hill top without having breaks, I was very much vulnerable to death against any vehicle that could appear on front. Fortunately, no other vehicle was on the road when the whole incident was happening.

That was not the first time. Earlier (say six months back), Me, aravind (naughty neighbour) and karthik (my younger brother by 5 years) got in to a government van that was standing idle at the slope, in gear. Aravind and me were playing with the steering wheel, while karthik was on the back side of the van, sitting cool and composed. Suddenly, the van started to move in the downward slope. (the gear has fallen to neutral, when we were playing in the driver’s seat). The slope leads to a twenty metre deep valley, which could easily take our lives. We shouted, tried pressing the pedals at the bottom, one by one first, then all together, but in vain. We were so small and ignorant, we couldn’t stop the vehicle. Just when the van was about to fall, it stopped. We held our breadth and got out of the vehicle and ran away. My dad and the driver searched and finally caught hold of us. The vehicle had stopped by hitting on a mile stone on the rear wheel. Thank god, milestones have other benefits too. But when we were enquired, both me and aravind instinctly blamed karthick (taking advantage of the age) for getting the van move on the road.

During college days, I drove an old and abandoned bike (Yamaha RXG 135) of my uncle. That vehicle drinks a litre of petrol for every fifteen kilometers and roars a sound equivalent to a Jetliner. Close to midnight, Godfrey, prabhakar, 6 other friends and me were returning from the bear bar in three bikes. We had just a bottle of bear each, but that was enough to give the cloudy effect. The college road is a straight, smooth two lane road for 5 KMs. At the end of the road, is the infamous Allagappa University and the college of arts and science. As our campus is on the left side of the alagappa college, we have to take a sharp left turn at the end of college road. Godfrey had Vespa Select, prabhakar had his Honda splendor and my Yamaha – 3 persons in each vehicle, was driving steadily till we touched the college road. Knowing the road conditions, suddenly God (as we call Godfrey) picked up his speed in the scooter beyond 80 kmph. A strong vibe took control of me. “How can a scooter lead YAMAHA RXG 135?” I too gave my accelerators a full throttle. As the competition picked up, all the three bikes were riding at the maximum speed designed for them. The speedometer needle of my bike touched 140 Kmph once and become defunct. The needle went back to zero. But the bike was racing with huge sounds and throwing away black soot from the condenser. In a jiffy, the end of college road appeared. We got to turn left. The two other bikes by then accepted the defeat and reduced their speed. The bear and the winning spirit in me had taken a few seconds more to reduce the speed, and by then the left turn was very close. I pressed the brake strongly and the bike started skidding. At a high speed, the bike took a higher radius of turn and moved across to the right side, just in front of a Government bus horning (sound) and beaming (headlights) heavily against us. I thought we are finished. As my legs were very firm on the breaks, the bike continued skidding and it somehow crossed the complete width of the bus. The bus went ahead of us in less than a inch gap from my forehead. The bike went on skidding and landed up in the 2 feet dry and deep drain on the side of the road. My headlights broke popping as the bike fall vertically in to the drain with the load of three people. All the three of us escaped with a minor scratch on the knee. All these happened in a much shorter time, like a fast forward action of English movie. I still remember that night afresh and consider that night as the first night for my second chance to live.

As we got up, I saw my petrol tank was empty. (at high speed, this damn bike has consumed one litre of petrol for just 5KMs). There was a burning smell all over my bike. We rolled down the bike back to college.

Even after the incident, my style of riding bike did not change. I drive at the maximum speed possible, frequently changing the gears, and showing off a great control on the bike. Many juniors from my college got inspired of my driving and tried to imitate my style. Many well-wishers used to advice me to drive slow. I really didn’t mind them, because I had enough control on driving even at that high speed. Only the courageous and daring people preferred to sit at my back while was driving.

I thought “The best driver in the world is to drive at a very high speed and at good control”, as we seen in the movies etc. Recently, may be a three years back, my attitude towards biking changed once for all.

While I was going for an evening walk with my pregnant (3 months) wife, we were discussing about the cute baby boy and his future etc. I noticed a biker coming close to us at high speed. From his face, I understood he is in complete control and he is coming so close, only to take a right turn for the gully. But my wife didn’t. She was afraid as if he is going to hit her and the baby. As he came close and took the turn, my wife felt a big shock and fainted. Fifteen days later, the baby boy (my first son) was taken out dead from her body. I’m not very sure, whether the bike incident was the reason for my son’s death, but I’m sure that the biker has made my wife to faint. I have been driving more rash and close than him, but I haven’t realized the impact of the fear and trauma felt by the people. From there on, I have considerably reduced my driving speed.

Even after, in one of those hot days, my clutch wire tore into pieces while changing gear in a busy road. It didn’t run into any major accident thanks to the slow speed. I wonder, in a decade of biking, I had only one sudden malfunction (other than tyre punctures) of the seven hundred and fifty spare parts used to make a bike. Nowadays, I ride only in 30s and 40s (KMPH).

My well wishers had been telling the same thing to me. Sometimes, we are influenced so much by some other factors and we tend to overlook the obvious. And, life takes its course and makes us realize the obvious. I’m taking pain to describe all these; just because of an accident happened last week. He is my colleague and had a severe accident fracturing one of his legs driving at high speed. Hope he change his course atleast from now on.

Thinking of the accidents, I recalled two more incidents………….


1. Another night at my college, I was heading to my home from hostel. My bike did not had the headlight, but I managed to drive slow and steady (around 40KMPH speed). From a distance, I saw a fellow crossing the road with his bicycle. I reduced the speed to let him cross the road. As I came closer and felt that he should have been crossed, I again accelerated the bike, only to hit his cycle at the rear end. The cycle toppled down and the fellow fell down. I stopped my vehicle and went to help him. Oh no!!, he was a police constable. As I was about to run from the place, he promptly caught hold of me, and took me to the police station (I had hit him just before the police station). He allowed me to go out only on the next day morning after grabbing the 300 bucks I had. The whole night I was in the police station (most of the time witnessing other interesting cases…) – What a shame!!!

2. It was Valentine’s Day. That was the final year, and we decided to see a movie with all the college students. We organized the event, and arranged two vans to go to the movie. I and some more friends resort to our motorcycles (we always demonstrated heroism for no reason). While we were returning from the movie, I tried to overtake one of the vans. Girls seated inside got excited, shouted and waved their hands seeing me in the bike. I too waved my hands back, just to hit directly over another bike, who abruptly stopped the bike in the road just in front of me. I didn’t get enough time to react as I was curiously waving hands to the girls seated on the van. Actually getting in to accident is not a problem, but having it when the girls have your eyes on you is a serious problem. As I came to the senses, I saw my bike broken in many parts. We just dropped those broken parts to the nearby mechanic shop, and reached the college before the Van reached the college in another (friend’s) bike. When the Van entered the college, I stood there welcoming (hiding the bruises at the elbow) them. The girls were happy seeing me alright.

An another perspective, This is only a potential accident.

7 Habits of highly effective people

One of my well-wishers gifted this book, about seven years back. This was one of the most boring books, I have ever read. This book was written by Mr. Stephen covey in his sixties, targeting the audience belonging to 30s & 40s. Many examples cited in this book are about family and children, exactly converse to my life style then - a hardcore bachelor. At every page, I had to spend atleast 15 to 20 minutes to understand and analyze what's written and how's that related to my life. All the seven habits, this book is speaking about, is given in the contents page itself, that too in plain English. Then, why should I read this book from page to page. They don’t even sound great. I thought most of the habits listed in the contents were already with me. And rest of them I can practice anytime. Actually I haven't read the book till recently.

Oh!!, I had greatly misunderstood about this book.

This book does have the seven great secrets, (hidden in that esoteric literature). These are sure-shot means to success. I'm not speaking about hard work, honesty, patience etc here; - these are much simpler than those. Few time tested tactics. Honestly speaking, I felt a feeling similar to that of reaching the 15th floor by lift, while everybody else is walking up through the stairs. But merely reading a list of these secrets or getting it known from somebody is not going to help. You got to understand, analyze, and inculcate those secrets in your lifestyle, which eventually let you reap the fruits.

Ok, if that is so, everybody who have succeeded in life, must have had those habits?? Actually, I don’t know.

But I know, - “Whoever had these habits, had definitely succeeded in life.”


Best of luck (to read the book, hope u don’t take so many years).

The Making of my son

I bought the first pack of KS condom, after 3 days of marriage. We carried out all kind of sexual experimentations, (referring books and internet). Our regular routine in the evening is to go for a long walk around the boothnath market, chatting, flirting and sharing each other about our pre-marriage life. We discussed about school days, friends, crushes, tastes, errands, cinema, sexual know-hows and the achievements. She was going through her first ever winter at North India. The jackets, woolens etc, etc are making her cozy as well as lazy. When she appears in the early morning fog, she looks even more beautiful, with her libs shaking in chill. We used to relish the Sundays. After having a brief breakfast around 9, our rounds of making love start (generally 5 times at different places). We used to have the lunch (An one by two clear soup, Keema parata and chicken masala) at Indranagar Royal café. The hazratganj visit after the afternoon nap completes the day. Occasionally she used to give an annoying look when I stare at other girls. She had developed a bit of complex on the fair and pinkish complexion of lucknow girls. My wife is a kind of fair on the medium side (the colour of the skin of actor priyanka chopra. Oh, she resembles her by physic also.)


On the republic day, we visited the bulbulaiah (the gigantic maze) of Bada Imambara. As I have already visited the place many times, I knew the cheat code. But it was compulsory to take a tourist guide for a couple. I really regret to miss an opportunity to show her, how I solve the maze and also to spend 150 bugs on the guide even after knowing in and out of the maze. We end the day with dinner (Parata, seekh kabab and tandoor chicken) in Naushijaan. My wife confessed that, this was the best food, she ever had.
She had not been that innocent as she looks like. She narrated the escapade to the nearby theater from school. She had signed her dad’s in Progress report. The girls’ hostel code words were really amusing. The bizarre nick names for their teachers and the gully boys who sneak around. We had a great time together enjoying each other’s company.
We were in a flow - flirting with each other. A time came, that I committed the major blunder, may be of my life. I disclosed about the relationship with my girlfriend. She had been smiling all along and gave her views too. But after two days, she showed her first signs of retaliation. She had read all the SMS in my cellphone (though I’ve deleted most of them), and started asking intriguing questions about her. I perceived a cocktail of absolute possessiveness, insane suspicion, and a sense of being decieved from her behavior, though, not candid.
A few days later, I don’t know why,… my x-girlfriend called up once. Incidentally, my wife was just on my side and noted the call. I briefly answered “I’m fine, how r u, fine. Will speak later” and closed the call. This is enough for my wife to kindle a big fight. The romance between us took a big turn. The clash lasted for a week, characterized and influenced by a brief interruption by her mom on phone. After lot of assurances from my side, the issue subsided.

After a month or so, my wife insisted to have a baby. I asked her to be patient for atleast 6 more months. Let’s enjoy this (couple) life for some more time before getting into a family. She started pestering without giving any proper logic. Later I realized that the base is her mother. Her mother had known that we are using condom and had propelled her daughter to stop using condoms. (Her perception is such : a baby boy would bring peace, love and harmony in the family, resisting the split of the couple, atleast for 3 to 4 years. Then, get another baby. Beyond that it’s ethics for the family to remain in peace and harmony.) I still resisted.

For everybody’s great surprise, my wife promptly got pregnant. She didn’t get the periods. OH!!!!!!!!!! , The first three days without condoms had already been working against my plans. I resolved myself and started caring my pregnant wife. But somehow, the pregnancy did not last. She had miscarriage. The three month old dead baby boy was taken out from her body and disposed. Both me and my wife were a bit traumatized of the condition, but not for long. We got to know that miscarriage in first pregnancy is not uncommon.

After the incident, I promptly started using the condom from the first day. I got the doctor’s view in my favour. She had asked us to defer the next child atleast for three months, so that, my wife can regain the health and have the capacity to hold the next child. It was really difficult to keep her mom shut for 3 months. Fourth month, condoms stopped, my wife is pregnant again. It’s a real wonder. Many people in this world crimp about child, while we are getting a baby, the moment we stopped using condoms.

This time we were literally careful. I practiced celibacy for the health of my child. I read pregnancy related books and child care. I gave the best of food, fruits and the best of comfort to my wife. My wife and her family were really pleased by the way, I took care of them. I myself had wondered about the recent developments in my sense of responsibility.

Meanwhile, I was transferred from the plant to R&D. Though Kolkata is a busy metropolitan, we were not used to the city then. We enquired and landed up in BCD hospital for the regular checkup with gynecologist. It was 7 months, and my wife typically looks like a cute doll. The doctor came up with another breath taking report. He reported ‘placenta previa’. (The placenta is the feeding tube joining the navel of child and mother). In this particular case, the placenta had occupied the exit point for the child. This will cause rapture of the tube, when the child is moving towards exit, resulting in death of either the mother or the child, if the case is not attended within 4 hours of rapture. The safer option is to operate and take the child out before the rapture of the tube, and keep the child in artificial incubation. That too, can be done only after eight and half months of pregnancy.

The doctor also denied any kind of travel either by train or air, which may aggravate the issue. This was completely against our plans. We had decided to have the delivery at home town amidst her well-wishers who speaking mother tongue. That’s our tradition too.

Kolkata had very few hospitals that have the incubation facility. The best one is bhagirathi hospital at Park street. However, I could not reserve there, as that will take one hour to reach from my home in normal times. A traffic jam or a rain can kill either my wife or child on the way. The nearest one was woodlands – 20 minutes from my flat. As I checked out the tariff, they were really expensive. I got to give 5 months of my salary for booking the incubation setup for 2 months, another one month salary for the operation and may be another one month salary for the miscellaneous expenses. But I had no choice.

I took my wife to woodlands, for the local doctor to check and recommend for the booking. Thankfully, a tamilian gynecologist Mrs. Rajalakshmi addressed my wife. This has lessoned most of the worries. (Because, it was very likely that the nurse or doctor might tell something in Hindi, or Bengali during the operation for which my wife doesn’t know ABCD and may result in some other disaster.) The doctor assessed situation and recommended for booking. She also told us to come and meet her every 15 days from there on. I reserved the bed for 3000 bugs in the hospital. In another couple of meetings, the doctor reported some distinct improvement in pregnancy and also said that she can be carried through a flight to Chennai, providing arrangement in a hospital very near to airport, in case of emergency. She gave a certificate and we landed smoothly through spicejet.

The plan is to meet my parents in Thiruvannamalai (4 hrs from Chennai) and have a brief function (valaikappu) and head on to madurai (her home town, 10 hrs from chennai) through a hired land cruiser. The function was grand. Many of mine and her relatives have dropped in. One of them was my dearest friend (he is also my cousin) Pems. Pems is the short name, I have kept for him. I used to admire him for his rich practical experience yet a completely composed person. At 27, he had started and closed two businesses – one in computers sales and training, another in borewell. He is an electrical engineer by education, but knows and does all sorts of projects. He has surprised us many times in making expert models (engineering). He is one of those rare real life heroes, who have saved two children from drowning at a time. Every time, I learn something from him, he reaches to another level. He is also a gadget freak. You can see his room filled with lots of gadgets, some may be required only when we land on moon. Unlike me, he is an introvert. He has very few friends and I’m one of them. The only bad thing I can think of him is that : ‘ He hate books. He seldom reads. It was a marathon effort for him to get his degree after 8 or 10 arrears. He believes only on practical understanding. ’

I was glad to see him after a long time in the function. We chatted for almost the whole day sharing our experiences. My wife somehow does not like the closeness between us. I don’t know why. Shouldn’t I have a good friend after marriage? She had and even now, tries to pin point some or other problems with him. She even had candidly complained that he is a selfish person. Once, her mother also has behaved the same way. I have dismissed them all, because our 20 years old friendship is beyond perceptions. From the age 6 or 7, we know each other very well.

After the function, everybody started to leave. My plan is to return back to kolkata from there. My wife along with her mom and dad will set on to Madurai in the landcruiser. While Pems was about to leave, I stopped him and suggested to go along with my wife (as his place is very close to Madurai). My wife was furious about this move. She even called me alone and demanded to let Pems go separately. I overruled. (I don’t know why, may be because I’ve already told Pems.)
As I reached Kolkata safely, I came to know that, their travel to madurai was not easy. In the midnight, in the mid way, the driver fell sick. He was continuously vomiting and couldn’t drive anymore. My mother-in-law has confessed that they were really frightened by the darkness and the condition of the driver. Her dad does not know how to drive. Then What next? Pems had taken the charge. He has parked the driver on the back, and drove the vehicle for 6 hours from there. My mother in law also has confessed that If Pems had not been there, they would have been in a deep trouble. She even suggested giving a gift in gold for his timely help in return. Though I readily accepted for the idea, you know what was running on my mind.

A fortnight later, I got a phone call, that I’ve become a father for the first time ever. I reached madurai, through the next flight to see the infant still under making. Closed eyes, tiny limbs, pinkish white skin softer than the softest thing in the world, he fitted well when I joined both the fists of mine and took him over. He greeted me with a smile without opening eyes. My thoughts were hovering on the fact that, “a baby boy is born out of me (Ok, my semen) and it’s a new beginning for the world to watch. – A wonder of wonders”

My wife still proudly claims, “He is a perfect Indian - conceived in Lucknow, cared in kolkata, born in Madurai, and being grown in Mumbai.”