Tusnin's law of frustration states that "If you are waiting for the elevator to go downstairs, there is 99% chance that the elevator is either full or going upward and vice-versa." My law of frustration has forced me to think of alternate ways of getting down to the ground floor of my office. I believe training on ' Para trooping' or 'bungee-jumping' is as essential as cotton buds in a Himesh Reshmaya's concert to reduce the traffic on those lazy elevators in my office. How wonderful it would be to tell my manager 'Good Bye! See you tomorrow!' and jump off the balcony with a small bag on my back. Of course, it's the duty on my manager to assume that the chance of my coming back to office the next day is inversely proportional to the chance of the small bag not opening up. Alternate ways of flying have their own hazards unless you have your own wings like birds! A few days back, I saw the advertisement of our office magazine communiqué "Reading gives you wings ... Fly with communiqué." I kept waiting desperately for the next two weeks until communiqué was released thinking that reading communiqué would give me wings to fly. Now you must have realized that I am kidding but what you have not realized is that I have done crazier things in my life just to fly. Let me sum up all my flying escapades for you so that if you see some big fat creature flying in the sky, you should know that it's Tusnin.
I have always been a big fat kid with my dresses struggling to keep my round shape in a humanlike form. But my eyes were always sparkling with new ideas which kept my father on his toes all the time. As an alternative to the butterfly effect, which states that the flutter of a butterfly's wings in China could affect the weather patterns in New York city, my father used to believe that a sparkle on my eyes can result in some unusual weather changes in and around our habitat, resulting in some sort of a havoc. Now after twenty years when I look at my father, I hold the sparkles on my eyes responsible for his beautiful bald look.
Similar sparkles were seen on my eyes fifteen years ago when I first read about the Wright brothers on a colorful magazine with the picture of an aero plane on it. I kept on thinking about Wright brothers and finally thought the VIP Frenchie way "Usme kaya hai jo mujhme nehi hai". I realized that I am short of one brother. So I convinced my gullible cousin Kuttu to be my partner in crime with promises of being so famous like the Wright brothers. The fact that he'll be spared from going to school and solving arithmetic after we became famous, acted as a stimulant for Kuttu to become my faithful partner. The secret project kicked off in my dad's deserted store room with a sketch of an aero plane nicely copied from that magazine. Back home, I maintained all sorts of secrecy to hide the sparkle in my eyes by avoiding my father for the next couple of days.
First thing we did was stealing bamboos and wires from my uncle's place who was constructing his maiden bamboo house. We locked ourselves in the store room for the next two days and managed to give our aero plane some structure way bigger than our stature. Our genius engineering mind faced the biggest hurdle when it came to procuring the wheels and propeller for our flying machine. Two days later the spare wheels of my father and uncle's scooters went missing and so was the fan in the guest room. Now the question was how we get electricity in the sky. So finally, we decided upon providing a long wire to the aero plane whose one end would be plugged into the socket. So we ended up making a huge flying kite in the shape of an aero plane. Our engineering genius came to a standstill when we realized that our flying machine was way too big to go out of the door of the store room. It was like a pumpkin grown in a bell jar. By that time, my disappearance along with that of the scooter wheels and the fan rang a bell in my father's mind. Our project came to a sudden halt when dad caught us red-handed along with the booty, of course; no need to mention the grand treatment at the end. The dream of becoming Wright brothers ended up in being wrong brothers!
The grand treatment kept the shines on my eyes away for sometime, but not so long till I got fascinated by para-trooping. The idea to float around in the sky and coming down slowly to the ground was already bringing the shines back to my eyes. It started with a handkerchief, a few strings, and my sister's Barbie doll. I was completely thrilled at the success of the first prototype. It was time I go for a major, real time project, but I needed a helping hand which I could not expect from Kuttu after my previous project's disastrous experience. I moved my focus on my ten-year old cousin Gabloo, who readily accepted my offer as it was a status symbol in his peer group to work with a scientist like me. This time it was a little bigger project with strings, my mother's shawl, and the bicycle of Moti uncle, and it took only an hour to come up with our second prototype. Two little kids stood on the rooftop, ignoring the scorching summer heat, with excitement on their eyes which can be found only in the eyes of a photographer during a photo shoot with Mallika Sherawat. We managed to throw the heavy bicycle into the air from the roof top and watched it fall slowly to the ground. Our joy knew no bounds and we were in a celebration mood on the success of phase two of our project.
Gabloo asked "What do we do now? Do I tell all my friends about it? "
I thought for a while looking into the open sky, as if solving critical aerodynamics problem related to the parachute, and replied "No. It's time for phase three".
"Phase three! What is that?"
"Now we should be able to apply it on humans instead of a cycle".
"But where do we get humans?"
I looked at him and smiled. But Gabloo looked away and could not smile!
Suddenly, he seemed to lose all interest in the project and started making excuses to go home and study. After a complete hour of perseverance and persuasion, Gabloo was ready to become the first human to jump off the roof with a sophisticated parachute designed by me. But for better safety of Gabloo, we decided to go for a bed sheet instead of a shawl. Our third prototype as well as Gabloo was ready to take the historic step towards flying, fame, and fracture. As all of you have already guessed, Gabloo's parachute did not open for miscalculated aerodynamic reasons, leaving him with a fractured leg and a month of bed rest with not a single dream about flying for this lifetime. The rest of the story was as usual like the previous grand treatment except that it was more intense this time.
This incident shook me up and I had to kill the sparkle in my eyes to save innocent creatures like Gabloo around my vicinity. I grew up to be an intelligent kid and went to do my engineering. But this time the lack of sparkle made me choose Mechanical Engineering instead of Aerospace engineering. During those four years of engineering, I came across some exotic, capricious people who could fly to the farthest galaxy without moving an inch from the ground. I dared not follow their way of flying. I graduated, got a job, moved to Hyderabad but never tried to get the sparkle back to my eyes. It came naturally one night when I was pillion riding with Lokesh on his new bike at a speed of 80Km/h early morning at 3-o-clock. I was very excited because I was supposed to go on a date after a few hours. Lokesh was happy that he gulped two pegs more than me. Suddenly three of us (me, Lokesh and his bike) flew over the cuckoo's nest! Time froze right by me and I could feel every millisecond of my flying frame by frame, till I hit the nearest tree, injuring both my hands. Lokesh flew over me and landed a few meters away injuring his legs and shoulder. All three of us survived. I survived because I had to go for a date, the bike survived because it had insurance, but I had no clues how Lokesh survived that lethal flying experience. It's still a mystery to us how we got back home that night and went to sleep with blood all over our bodies. I woke up early, cleaned myself, and went out for my much awaited date with my twisted hands. When I came back home, I found Lokesh had just woken up and was busy learning to walk.
"How was your date?" asked Lokesh.
"What do you think a date would be with my hands not working" I replied." Want to go to hospital?"
"Is it required? I am learning to walk." replied Lokesh.
After twenty minutes of meaningless discussion we finally decided to go to hospital. The moment we landed up at the hospital, people came running with stretchers to help us go to the emergency ward. Immediately doctors came running and gave us shots of anti-tetanus as if we were brought directly from the site of accident. I and Lokesh were looking at each other blankly, trying to understand what was actually happening to us as the nurses gave us a full dressing, leaving only a small leeway for eyes to be visible. I did not know whether I should laugh as we were looking no less than any living mummy. While coming back home we picked up a carton of beer along with medicine as we realized that we had nowhere to go for the next few days. The shopkeeper was looking at us very suspiciously and must have been wondering from which planet we came from. The next few days were really tough as the pain increased tenfold. With both hands crippled it was tough even to wear my own underwear. It was not the end, there was more to come. Doctor told me that the nerves of my hands were damaged and that's the reason one of the fingers in my hand was not getting straight. So he asked me to go through some medical tests. The test involved attaching electrical probe to hands and passing electrical shocks and reading the impulses. I had heard of shock therapies for mentally disabled patients but shock therapy for hands was quite new to me. I thought, maybe, my hands have lost their sanity and will go out of control in a few days. Anyway, after thirty minutes of electrifying experience the report came out which stated that my hands were perfectly alright to go on a successful date next time. Doctor told me that I could go but I had to pay minimal charges of thousand rupees for the medical tests. It was a wonderful day to remember.
Well, the wonderful day did not daunt my enthusiasm to dream of flying, to have the sparkle in my eyes and to create havoc around me. I still spend a lot of time looking at the floating clouds, the flock of birds flying high, and some lonely feather spinning around in the air. The sound of an aero plane still drives me out of house to look up at the sky like a little teenage boy. Still, I come up with plans of flying every now and then; and I believe that at least one of them some day will translate my desire in to a reality. Till then, the following words will continue to keep haunting my mind …
I am a lonely feather floating in the open sky
I am an aimless vagabond listening to lullaby
A crippling numbness over my frozen eyes
The dance of silence breaking my paradise
I am a lonely feather floating in the open sky …
