LOVE ALL - Episode 1

varalotti · Nov 12, 2008

LOVE ALL

A Serial By Varalotti Rengasamy

Episode 1

Though they were sitting in a noisy, crowded restaurant there was an unusual calm about them. They were talking to each other in a barely audible whisper. For them it looked as if they were sitting in a vast, green park with virtually no one around. They did not want to raise their voice lest the silence of the park should be disturbed by their presence.

As they were talking they were looking into each other’s eyes in a manner possible only for those who were deeply in love. The communication channel that their eyes had created was far more faster and efficient than the one their mouths participated.

The eye-to-eye channel was like an 8 Mbps broadband connection whereas the word of mouth was like the old fashioned dial-up connection with a speed of not more than 56 Kbps.

She was a brilliant software engineer who loved efficiency and so she abandoned the dial-up connection and switched over to broadband. He followed suit.

The love that passed between their eyes was so overwhelming that she could not bear it. She shivered for a second and her eyes welled up with tears. He placed his coffee cup down and softly brushed her tears with his index finger.

And in doing so he did something which would have been almost impossible for any one who was not as soft as him. When he touched the large tear drop that was about to fall from her right eye his finger just touched the tips of her eye-lashes. True love is always subject to a strange paradox. Lighter the touch, greater the effect. And she was no exception to that rule. Her whole being shook in unbearable love.

She wanted to melt in love and flow like water beneath his feet. As she was trying to do that she heard some high pitch music very close to her ears. The music was not that of the customary hundred violins playing in a love scene in a typical sixties’ Bollywood movie. It was the signature tone of one of India’s major telecom companies.

Startled, she woke up. From her sleep, from one of the sweetest dreams she had had during the recent past.

varalotti · Nov 12, 2008

Part 2!

“Good Morning, Yamini. I heard the alarm from your mobile. Came here and saw you sleeping. Wanted to put off the alarm; but you woke up before that. Sleep for some more time, dear. And it’s only 4 30 now.”

“Good Morning, Pa. Sorry, I didn’t hear the alarm. I’ll rather get up. Have lots and lots to do.”

As Ramamurthi was watching his only daughter Yamini struggling to get up from her sleep his mind went back to the day when he first set his eyes on his only daughter.

varalotti · Nov 12, 2008

Part 3!

Ramamurthi vividly remembered the scene that happened twenty five years ago. He was restlessly pacing the verandah outside the Labour Room in which his wife was shouting in pain.

His astrologer had sworn before a dozen pictures of God, that he would have a boy. He had even thought of a name – Yagnesh. That was why when the nurse came out to announce that a baby girl was born to him he was a tad disappointed.

Not that he hated girls; but thanks to the astrologer he had been expecting a boy and that expectation had been frustrated.

But his disappointment lasted precisely for thirty seconds – the time he took to run into the room and receive the newborn in his hands. His wife Parvathi smiled at him weakly and went to sleep.

The baby was so soft that Ramamurthi was afraid that even his holding her in his hands might hurt the child. The child had a clear and blemishless skin which was almost a shade of rose. Unlike most of the newborns who will be crying or sleeping, she was all alert and was raring to go.

Or it so appeared to the doting father. Then the child twisted its lips in such a way that appeared like a smile to the already bewitched father.

At that very moment Ramamurthi was ready to buy the whole world and place it at his daughter’s little pink feet.

And the happiness in his face never changed after that. Even when the Doctor took him aside and told him in a grave voice that his wife could not have any more children, he had the same smile on his face. Frankly after seeing that angel, he was not interested in having another child.

Something told him that this daughter would be more than a hundred sons. And that she would be someone special not only for him but for the whole community which was fortunate enough to have her in its midst.

varalotti · Nov 12, 2008

Part 4!

Yamini was beautiful and intelligent. But these days this description could fit many girls. But there was one feature that was quite unusual - Yamini’s sense of values. They were as deeply ingrained in her system as her bodily reflexes.

One day when she was in Class Six, she got way too busy with her toys and games that she forgot all about her homework. Of course there were nine other students in her class who gave her company.

When the stern teacher, armed with the ruler as a punishing tool, pulled them up for their lapse, all the other nine students showed their ingenuity in building up stories that would have put a producer of TV soaps to shame.

All of them were hanging down their heads while their mouths were lifelessly muttering some cock and bull stories, which they themselves found hard to believe.

When it was Yamini’s turn, she stood up, looked straight into the eyes of her teacher and told her that she forgot to do her homework. And that she would never let such a thing happen again.

The whole class giggled. But not the teacher. She came near Yamini, placed her hand affectionately on her shoulders and told her,

“I am proud of you Yamini. You have got two things which can never be taught from outside. Number one, honesty and number two, the courage to display it. You are going to be a great person one day. I don’t want you to lose anything in life, because of your forgetfulness.”

Yamini promptly reported the incident to her father. She also asked his help in winning over such small lapses. Ramamurthi had a large white marker board fitted in her room.

The board acted as her PA and her PDA till she moved on to more sophisticated organising tools like Microsoft Outlook, a Nokia N 17 instrument and finally a software created by her.

varalotti · Nov 12, 2008

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Part 5!

The incident made her an expert in organising things. She did her Bachelors in Engineering, majoring in Computer Science. When her college organised a huge students’ festival, the organising part was left to Yamini.

She developed a full-fledged program with dot Net and SQL Server exclusively for the event. The system automatically generated reminders and sent messages to the mobile phones of the concerned persons.

Even the minutest nitty-gritty like dropping off a student in the station at <st1:time hour="3" minute="0" w:st="on">3 AM</st1:time> in the morning or giving sugarless tea to the IIT Professor who was chaperoning his team was taken care of thanks to her fool-proof system reminders and alerts.

That program got her the first prize in an All-India competition among Engineering Colleges for the “Best Event Management Tool”

In her final year Infosys invited her to their Bangalore Site for a project on Software Project Management. When she completed her project, handed over a copy of the Report to the Chief Delivery Officer of the company and walked out of his room, the HR Manager was waiting for her outside the door to deliver an offer of employment
.
She would be paid a starting salary of Rs. 7.50 lakhs per annum, more than three times the salary offered to fresh Engineering graduates.

She was required to undergo their much talked about 18 months of grueling training at their <st1:city w:st="on"><st1lace w:st="on">Mysore</st1lace></st1:city> facility. Instead she would be absorbed as a part of a core operations team that was reporting directly to the Chief Operating Officer.

Yamini liked the culture in the company. She promptly accepted the offer and told them that she would be joining as soon as she got the results.

But then Destiny intervened. And that too in an unimaginably cruel way. The ways of Destiny are often cruel; but its intention has never been so. Destiny just wanted to ensure that Yamini was not stuck up in some ordinary occupation intended for lesser mortals and that she was kept ready for her true calling.

varalotti · Nov 12, 2008

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Part 6!

Yamini’s results had been out. She had topped her class, her college and the University. She called up Infosys and told them that she would be reporting to duty within two weeks.

Then Yamini and her mother Parvathi went on a shopping spree. They had conspired to completely replace Yamini’s wardrobe.

Parvathi had done her Bachelors in Literature. She loved cooking, worshipped her husband Ramamurthi and doted on her only child, Yamini.

Parvathi had a keen eye for dresses. Whenever anybody in their family circle got married Parvathi would be the honorary Costume Designer for the bride, and if the family is close enough, for the bridegroom as well.

Unlike those ladies who spent days and days shopping for a saree, Parvathi would finish off her selection in fifteen minutes flat and unlike most of them she would never go back to the shop for return or exchange.

Her “blink” decisions endeared her so much to the textile shops’ employees that she always got a warm welcome and a royal treatment at all the major outlets in the city.

As they were shopping for designer Chudidhars in a boutique in <st1:street w:st="on"><st1:address w:st="on">GN Chetty Road</st1:address></st1:street>, Parvathi looked at her daughter with admiration.

Yamini was just an inch short of six feet. She was not plump. Nor had she ever suffered from anorexia nervosa or bulimia. If her height and a healthy figure that matched that unusual height were intimidating, the soft features of her face were always reassuring.

When they had an inter-collegiate festival at her college and Yamini was at the Reception answering the queries of students from across the country, her friend remarked, “Yamini, we know about the user-friendly feature in software. You are so to say “stranger-friendly”.

“I have been watching you for the past one hour. People who come to you with a question go back not only with the right answer but also with admiration for you. And that includes that girl from Kohima, Nagaland, whose English none of us could understand.”

Parvathi was short and lean unlike her daughter. But her facial features were remarkably similar to her beautiful daughter.

They did not behave like a mother and daughter. They teased each other, assigned marks to the men they saw on the road, had nothing but five bowls of ice cream each for lunch, tried dashing dresses, even bought a few and returned home happy and exhausted around half past eight.

Ramamurthi had just returned from his work. He had been an Assistant Commissioner of Income Tax and opted out of the Department on Voluntary Retirement. The Tax Department had a serious problem. None of its honest officers were efficient. And none of its efficient officers were honest.

Ramamurthi was almost the solitary exception to this cardinal rule. Perhaps that was why he could not stay any longer in that ambience.

As soon as he walked out of the Department a leading software company retained him as its tax consultant paying him more than three times his last drawn salary. For the first time in his career Ramamurthi got what he loved on the work spot – absolute honesty and ruthless efficiency.

The family had a happy dinner together pulling each other’s legs. As they were about to retire for the day, Parvathi screamed and fell down. She had a paralytic stroke.

varalotti · Nov 12, 2008

Part 7!

Life came to a standstill. Emergency rooms, ICUs, Ambulance, Scans, Doctors, long periods of waiting, a numb pain in the heart, endless hours of agony, mindless medical bills – that was their life for almost a month when the final picture emerged.

Parvathi’s left side was practically dead. She had to be in bed. By constant medication, continuous physiotherapy there was a small chance of recovery. But that was after years. Right now Parvathi needed somebody to attend on her.

Of course money was not a problem for them as the software company for whom Ramamurthi worked absorbed a major part of the medical expenses. But everything else was a problem. Though they had a domestic help Parvathi had never allowed a cook to enter the family’s kitchen all these years. Yamini had never learnt to cook. And somebody had to be constantly by the side of Parvathi.

Ramamurthi had already appointed a live-in nurse and was frantically searching for a cook. Meanwhile Infosys had called Yamini a dozen times about her joining date.

When the father and the daughter had the night dinner in relative silence Ramamurthi told her in a flat voice.

“Yamini, I have decided to give up my job. I want to be by your mother’s side. We do have a nurse and a cook will be here soon. But your mother will feel better if one of us is around. I am fifty one and I am at the fag end of my career.

“Whereas you are just entering your career and that too with a job that’s the envy of every engineering student. Call Infosys and tell them that you will report to duty on 14<sup>th</sup> July. That’s an auspicious day.”

Yamini looked at her father with love. It was only after he took up this assignment with the software company that he was happy with his work. With good health and clean habits, he did not look a day older than 45. He had been a very active person throughout his life.

Right from four in the morning till eleven in the night, he was very active doing one thing or the other. Why should he opt for a life by her mother’s bedside? Just to make sure that his dear daughter had her dream job.

“Let me sleep over that, Dad. We’ll take a call on that tomorrow morning.”

Of course Yamini did not require a whole night for that. When she dozed off to sleep around Eleven her decision had been made.

varalotti · Nov 12, 2008

Part 8!

<o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-comffice:smarttags" name="place"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-comffice:smarttags" name="State"></o:smarttagtype> In the morning Yamini walked into her mother’s room with two cups of coffee in her hand. Her father was sitting by her mother’s side. He was holding her hand and was talking softly to her. Though Parvathi could talk that meant a great strain to her. She was silently listening to her husband.

Yamini gave a cup of coffee to her father and another to the live-in nurse. Parvathi would have hot milk a little later.

Yamini pulled up another chair and sat by her mother’s side. She placed her right hand affectionately on her mother’s forehead.

“How are you doing, Ma?”

Parvathi smiled at her daughter and nodded.

Then she turned to her father.

“Dad, I have been thinking about what you told me last night. I have made some decisions and now I want your unconditional acceptance, please.”

“I can promise only an earnest consideration of your proposals, Yamini. But not an unconditional acceptance. That depends on what you are going to tell.”

“You go to work, Dad. I’ll stay home. I will be by mother’s side. It’s like this, Dad. When I was in bed with common cold, cough or a mild fever –just 99 degrees - mom would be my side for the best part of the day. And don’t you think that this is my chance now to do something to her?”

“But Yamini…”

“No Dad. I am not doing this out of a sense of duty or obligation. I just want to be with my mother. Period. “

A loud sob escaped from Parvathi’s mouth.

“Its okay, Ma. You are going to be fine.”

“Yamini… Yamini.. we should have done penance in our previous births to get a child like you. But please think again. Why should you sacrifice your career for her?”

“You are wrong, Dad. Do you think Mom sitting by my side when I was ill was sacrifice? No,Dad. Is it her duty, then? No, again. It’s love, pure and simple. The same force which has led me to this decision. I am doing what I love to do. If I leave her like this and go to office, I can’t focus on my work.”

Parvathi sobbed again. Ramamurthi tightened the grip he had over his wife’s hand.

“See Parvathi, what a fine child, we have got!”

Tears were rolling down Parvathi’s cheeks. Her healing process started at that very moment.

Being assured of selfless love from one’s spouse and child – pharmaceutical research labs around the world are yet to come up with a medicine half as powerful as that to cure paralysis.

The live-in nurse took her eyes from the magazine she was reading and was looking at the family with awe in her eyes.

“You asked for my unconditional acceptance to your proposal, right? No Yamini. I can’t accept that. I have my own conditions. The deal is off unless you agree to all my conditions.”

Yamini wore a puzzled look. Even Parvathi had a look of surprise in her face. The nurse was looking at them with an open mouth.

“I will get you a a SONY VAIO Laptop, the latest one – 15” monitor, Intel Core Duo Processor, 2 GB RAM, 160GB Hard Disk, a Sony digital camera, a scanner and a laser printer. And I’ll upgrade the speed of our Internet connection to 8 MbPs. I want you to set up your desk right here in this room by your mother’s side.”

“Thanks, <st1:state w:st="on"><st1lace w:st="on">Pa.</st1lace></st1:state>”

Yamini was about to get up. Ramamurthi held her hands.

“I am not yet finished.”

Ramamurthi continued with a benign smile.

“This lady will continue to be the live-in nurse. And by next week I am bringing in a live-in cook. You should not be doing any of the cooking or household work. Every morning I will get myself dropped at the office and send back the car to you.

“You should go out for at least two to three hours every day. You may shop, eat out, just go around and do whatever you want. But you should not be at home for minimum two hours every day. I will open a joint checking account with you and give you the ATM card. I will also give an add-on credit card. So that you can spend whatever you want to whenever you want to.”

Yamini flew in to his arms.

“You are the bestest Dad in the whole world, Dad.”

The atmosphere of love was so strong that even the live-in nurse had to take Herculean efforts to muffle her sobs.

varalotti · Nov 12, 2008

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Part 9!

Thus started the next phase of Yamini’s life.

Yamini explained her situation to Infosys. The HR Manager was so impressed with her that she was placed in the panel of free-lance experts which Infosys used to brainstorm for mission-critical work

Yamini divided her time between her mother and her system. She got up around <st1:time hour="16" minute="30" w:st="on">half past four</st1:time> in the morning and spent the first two hours checking her mails, surfing the Net and planning the work for the day.

Around <st1:time minute="30" hour="18" w:st="on">half past six</st1:time> she would gently wake up her mother. The nurse will take care of her mother’s morning routines. Yamini will make her sit up in the bed and have a glass of hot milk. And while she drank she will sit by her side talking about everything under the sun.

She will let her mother decide the breakfast, lunch and dinner menu for the day. Yamini made the cook visit her mother’s room and take orders from her. These small acts of kindness had a profound effect on Parvathi’s health.

Her father would go to work around <st1:time minute="30" hour="9" w:st="on">half past nine</st1:time>. Yamini would get ready around ten for her ‘mandatory outing’. She will come back by <st1:time minute="30" hour="12" w:st="on">half past twelve</st1:time> and would have lunch along with her mother in her room. Post lunch her mother would go for a siesta. Yamini would spend the time reading and browsing. Around <st1:time hour="20" minute="0" w:st="on">8 pm</st1:time> every day all the three had dinner together in the same room.

Unknown to them, Ramamurthi and Yamini were giving the best therapy to Parvathi – something which money could not buy, something which the world of medicine had not yet thought of. In almost all the cases stroke victims would be marginalized and swept off to the corner of the house where nothing important happened.

Ramamurthi and Yamini were doing the polar opposite. They moved all the happenings of the household to Parvathi’s room making her the focal point of their lives. Parvathi’s healing process accelerated.

Yamini used the ‘mandatory out’ time mostly to visit bookshops and libraries. That was when she came to know of the young writer, Arvind. Someone recommended his debut novel “Nothing But Love” to her.

She started reading it on an eventless Saturday afternoon when she did not have anything better to do. Even before she completed the first ten pages she knew that the book was a great work which could only be conceived by a great mind.

The story line was deceptively simple and there were just six characters. And with that Arvind made her cry at every other page. Arvind used only the simplest of words and the commonest of expressions. Yamini did not have to reach for the Dictionary – not even once - while reading the three hundred and odd pages of the masterpiece.

Arvind’s expressions were not, as the critics loved to rave, “out of the world”. They were the expressions of many a man and woman. He just expressed what millions wanted to but only in a more intense manner. His books could be enjoyed even by someone who can barely read and who had a vocabulary of not more than two thousand words.

He was one of the very few authors who could make his readers cry even while describing an intimate love scene. His lovers did not even touch each other; but when they talked, when they saw each other and when they exchanged small acts of kindness,the reader was transported to heaven.

When she kept the book down after six hours of continuous reading she was in a paradoxical state. She was sobbing shamelessly and at the same time bursting with happiness. She wanted to share it with somebody. From the next day onwards she started reading the book aloud to her mother.

When she read out the chapters in the book she saw her mother continuously shedding tears. Arvind’s powerful words joined Yamini’s and Ramamurthi’s love in hastening Parvathi’s healing process.

Yamini fell in love with those writings first and then with the man behind them. In a month’s time she had read every word written by Arvind. She called his publishers and sweet-talked them into giving his personal mail ID.

And then she wrote a four page mail about what Nothing But Love did to her, meticulously edited it and sent it across. Arvind’s reply was just three lines. But with that he was able to melt her heart. She then became bold enough to request him to send his picture with his autograph on it. Aravind couriered it to her the very next day.

Her love for the soft-looking handsome writer deepened. She did not have the courage to talk to him. What if he was already married? What if he was in love with some one else?

She was now sure that she was deeply in love. Ever since she saw that picture he was the only man who was visting her in her dreams almost every night.

varalotti · Nov 12, 2008

Part 10!

Yamini ought to have been happy under her newly established routine. She did what she wanted to. She surfed, read, shopped, ate out, wandered in the city and even did some hard core professional work on the side. Added to all that she was neck-deep in love.

She had everything which money could buy and also had something which money could not buy – her parents’ love, her intelligence and her moral scruples.

Yet in spite of all that she had a vague feeling of listlessness. Not that she wanted to abandon her choice and go back to working for Infosys. But there was an inescapable feeling of frustration which she tried hard to hide from her mother.

Parvathi knew her daughter like the palm of her hand. One day she asked in a shaky voice, “Are you all right, dear?” Yamini answered the question with feigned enthusiasm. But she could feel in her bones that her mother did not believe her.

Little did Yamini know at that time that the vague feeling of emptiness she had was felt only by those chosen few, probably one in a million or even less, when they were away from the calling Mother Nature had intended for them.

Destiny which always helps the good and the loving was gently nudging her towards her calling. It was like the soft nudge of a master golf player when the ball is pretty close to the hole.