(picture is from internet)

Dom and Louisa were inseparable. Coming from diverse backgrounds this miracle occurred with head bumps.friendship sprouted. Both were good in their studies and in a healthy spirit of rivalry, their relationship flourished. The only cloud in their lives was the green eyed monster. Both were wildly popular and had many friends of both sexes. This made each one jealous of the other’s close friends. Being of volatile Latin blood, their anger did not take long to boil over. They would not talk to each other for days. Then they would kiss and make up.

In an experiment undertaken by the city’s Education dept, economically weak kids were bused to affluent neighborhoods. Louisa was one such kid and Dom came from an aristocratic background. She was made to sit with Dom. They were both eight years old.

Their relationship began with a bang on their heads and dislike. But gradually they became aware of each other and when Dom rescued Louisa from being mercilessly teased by a bunch of boys, their

When this liking turned to love was hard to pinpoint. Both families were unhappy about this alliance but seeing their determination, they gave in grudgingly.

It is wedding rehearsal day. Elders from both families wil be meeting for first time. Only the parents had met before. Then a miracle happened. When everyone gathered, Louisa’s grandmother stared at an elderly gentleman across the table. It was Dominic’s great uncle David Vargas. Then she asked “Are your parents Louisa and David Souza?’ Seeing the uncle’s nod, she squealed delightfully tears streaming down her cheeks. David realizes he was staring at his long lost sister Louisa. Louisa had runaway from home at the age of seventeen because her family was forcing her to join the convent. She had no desire to become a bride of Christ. So she ran away to America. Luckily on the boat she met a fellow Spaniard and together they found a place to stay and later got married. Now there were no qualms as far as this alliance was concerned. In fact everyone said Louisa was lucky for them. She was the spitting image of her grandma. It became a family affair. Everyone beamed.

The bride and groom said their vows and kissed. The cake was cut. Suddenly, Dominic pulls out a knife from his pocket! Everyone is shocked and stare at him. Louisa’s mouth opens and eyes quizz. Dominic calls out to his best man to bring out the surprise. The best man lays down two green dolls on the table. With great fanfare a boy and girl doll in green color were produced. With a flourish, Dom presents the knife to Louisa and asks her to stab the girl doll to put an end to all their petty jealousies. He does likewise. There is a burst of applause. He starts their marriage without a single dark cloud.

Now they are truly gliding on cloud nine.

Dainty flick of wrist
Quick mental whisk
Salty dew drops

Shared tender love
Tendrils of affection
Kisses, make up

Aching heart heavy
Mourns memory loss
Time robbed us both honey!

picture from internet

“Daddy please  hurry! I am unable to breath! I am scared” she whimpered. 

Lou woke up in dead sweat!   The piteous cries belonged to his beloved Maria.

Maria, Mat, Mark were his beloved triplets.  Lou, Mark and Matt were cops, posted in Lower Manhattan.

September 11, 2001

Horrified, New York and world watched toppling of TwinTowers.  Maria worked on twenty second floor.  Many jumped out of windows, she headed for stairs.

Detectives Lou, Matt, Mark rushed to disaster area.  Frantically they searched the rubble.   Police dogs helped save many.  Clinging to hope on a wing and prayer they searched as buried Maria cried for help :   “Daddy please  hurry! I am unable to breath! I am scared”

Maria was sure her family would save her.  She kept calling from cell every few minutes.  Dogs sniffed following the sound but Maria was buried deep. With bare bleeding hands, they cleared debris like wild men.  Time was running out. 

One last push created a passageway.  Slim Mark crawled inside.  The cell phone beeped for the last time.    Marked  hurried on .  His elbow hit something.  He saw his sister’s handbag.  He moved on.  He reached dead end.

Maria watched as her daddy and brothers searched for her shouting her name.  She was perplexed.  She was standing next to them.

Nightly she whimpers:   “Daddy please  hurry! I am unable to breath! I am scared”

Note: this is based on a true event. A dear friend lost her niece that day.

The Guest

Kitu- as a child:

“Why can I not have my room all to myself? I wish we were not living in Bombay and get this unseasonable rain of guests.”   This was a justified lament that had her late for school, punishments, missed rest periods, adding to her woes.

Kitu-at 14:

“I have a crush on Kip.  Wish he would return my glances sometimes.  I would love to go out with him for movies etc.”  Body changes, hormonal rages were playing havoc with Kitu’s mind and body along with a never ending stream of guests, more on than off.
“This Kip, friend of coz Arun is really cute!  I wonder what made him join the army.  I would not mind going out with him.  Hopefully mom and dad will let me accompany him to sightsee Bombay!”  One evening Kitu was alone and Kip returned home early.   They were together alone and after evening tea they sat chit-chatting.
Kitu’s heart was beating very fast.  Suddenly Kip came and sat close to her. He gave her a hug.  Her heart leapt in her mouth with fear and excitement.  She was aware of the birds and bees and was game for some experimentation as well.  They kissed and hugged each other tight.  Kitu was over the moon.  She had puppy love.
 

Kip-20 something:

“This kid Kitu is sweet but I better stay away or else Arun and her parents will have my hide!  Luckily I will be posted out of here soon.  However, she is cute as a button.  I must control myself around her.”

Kitu: 50 plus:

“I wish the train comes on time.  This waiting room is so dingy and dismal.  Wish I’d brought a novel along to pass the time.  The people here are not very interesting.”
Suddenly a man enters the waiting room and as he sits down on the bench next to her, his book falls on the ground.  Kitu picks it up and sees the name Ranjit Singh Tanwar. Involuntarily she blurts out “Are you Kip?”  The stranger is startled and looks at Kitu closely but does not recognize her.  She tells him that she is Kitu and that he had stayed as a guest in their house decades ago.  Kip recalls the young girl he had fooled around with and suddenly he remembers it all.  They have an animated catch up on news of each other’s families and then Kitu asks him where he was headed?  He says, Bombay.  She invites him over.  Kip agrees.

Kitu is a widow and an empty nester.  Her son and daughter are settled in USA and she is alone.  She is a famous writer under another name.  She likes this anonymity.  She has moved back into the compact flat of her parents that she had rented out.   She is home.

Kip is a nature photographer and has published many travel books and writes articles for National Geographic Magazine.  He was divorced by his wife who got tired of living alone for months.  His only son is married and has a son of his own.

Two lonely souls finally connect, mingle, co-habit after retying the knot.  Life comes full circle.  This one guest moved in for good and All Is well in their world.

**  **  **

Do you know what you call those who use towels and never wash them, eat meals and never do the dishes, sit in rooms they never clean, and are entertained till they drop? If you have just answered, “A house guest,” you’re wrong because I have just described my kids.

Erma Bombeck
American, Journalist

picture from internet 

http://www.binaguptapoetry.com/victors-dream-part-one-1108.htm

 
Amu was very upset.  Her beloved son Victor had lost his mind!  “It was that cursed lottery!  How I wish Vic had not accepted that free ticket from Sen Dada.  How am I going to manage the house all by myself now?”  Her heart sank.  Then she decided that the only way to make her son well was to get rid of the prize money.  In her eyes her son’s life and sanity was priceless.
 
Sen Dada was fuming.   For the umpteenth time he kicked himself for giving away the lucky ticket.  Then he decided that as Vicky had lost his mind, he could con Amu into splitting the fifty lakhs saying it was supposed to be equal shares as a shoe polish did not cost twenty rupees.  Once he had brainwashed himself that he was justified in duping Amu, he hastily bought a box of (sweet ricotta cheese balls) “rosgullas” for the family and quickly left for Victor’s house.

Amu hurriedly pulled out the offending fifty lakhs from under the bed and tied them up in red tablecloth which she had newly sewed from cloth remnants.  The money was wrapped in old newspaper and was now a snug square package in red.  After a quick bath, she left for Kalibari(temple) leaving Victor in the care of the younger brothers.

Sen Dada reached the house and with a great flourish gifted the sweets to the boys.  Then he asked about Amu’s whereabouts.  Upon finding out that she had left for the Kalibari, he ran out after her.  He needed to catch her before she entered the temple.  The chase was on.
It was morning “puja” (prayer) time and the temple was full.  Amu quietly waited in line patiently pleading all the time to the Goddess to take the money and return her son’s sanity.  She reached the priest and bowed low to receive blessing.  The crowd suddenly surged and Amu tripped and fell inside the inner sanctorum and the red packet fell at the feet of the Goddess.  Amu straightened up and quietly left chanting Goddess mantras.  The package lay unnoticed as it was inadvertently pushed behind the deity by the priest whilst performing rituals.

The local doctor had given a sedative to calm Victor and he was lying in deep sleep.  Yogi and Jay the younger brothers had secured jobs in different banks as trainees and their lot had already changed for the better.  Their hard work had paid off. 
 
 
The sun was shining brightly and Victor got up and stretched.  Suddenly he looked at the clock and jumped up shouting Amu!
He was behaving normally and was hurrying with morning ablutions and chores so that he could open his shop on time. Amu was delighted!  Goddess Kali had heeded her prayers and given back her old son.
 

Next morning the priest did the abhishekham (bath) of the Goddess with his usual fanfare and rituals.  Lots of water mixed with Gangajal (sacred river Ganges water) and milk etc. were poured over the deity and then the Goddess was anointed with red sindoor(color) and sandal paste and dressed in gold jewelry and silk sari.  The Goddess was ready for morning “darshan” viewing.
The red bundle of money got a thorough soaking and the money became useless pulp.
Man proposes God disposes

Little Bobbie was in seventh heaven to have the secret room as his very own and wanted to sleep there as well.  His parents decided to make him happy as this way they could keep an eye on him more easily.

Bobbie was an only child and ever since he learnt to walk, he would be all over the
house playing with toys in hand.  His mom Raji tried to restrain him in his room by feeding and playing with him there.  Gradually Bobbie kept to his room and when he was lonely he would start speaking with his friend Kanha.  He would say” Kanha, please come and play with me.  I want to be your playmate.”  Suddenly, Kanha would emerge from the silver statue and they would play for hours together.  Now the sounds of two pairs of anklets would reverberate in the house.    Raji and the maid would hear this delightful tinkle and smile.  It never occurred to them that it was the sound made by two pairs.  After Bobbie got tired and fell asleep hugging his pal Balgopal, the Lord would merge back into the statue.

One day Bobbie woke up early and looked for his pal but he was not there!  Instead there was a lovely peacock feather on his pillow.

He stared at it in wonder!  He had liked the feather on Balgopal’s gold crown and had wanted one also.  Carefully he put the feather in his Alphabet book. 

Raji had finished cooking and was between chores.  She decided to sit early with Bobbie to teach the alphabets and numbers.  On opening the book, she found the lovely peacock feather.  Upon asking the child where he got it, Bobbie said “Mom my pal Gopal gave it to me!”  Raji was mystified and questioned her son further.  She asked “Which Gopal?”  Bobbie pointed to the silver statue in the swing.  He said “He plays with me every day and even sleeps with me.  I had asked him to get me a feather just like the one he has on his head.”   Raji was overjoyed and believed her son!  She realized the room had a very peaceful aura and instead of the usual musty smell, it had a pleasing fragrance of fresh jasmine flowers and camphor.  She hugged her son and kissed him in pure joy.  She joined her hands and prayed babbling her thanks to Him for gracing their home.
It was Janamashtami day and Bobbie’s parents both fasted and broke it only after midnight.  Next day they held kirtan in their home and invited all the neighbors for lunch.  The silver Kanha seated in the swing occupied the place of honor in the living room where one corner has been converted into a temporary temple.  Fifty six varieties of sweets had been prepared for the lord and the house resounded with sounds of bhajans and rejoicing celebrating the birth of the lord.  Finally it was over and the lord was returned to Bobbie’s room.  Bobbie had been excited by the day’s goings on and had played to his heart’s content with the guest’s kids.  He had other playmates now.

Bobbie was often invited to other homes and between play and day school he became busy and hence did not call out to his playmate as often as before.  Their meetings became infrequent and then stopped completely. 
Bobbie was sent home early from school as he was unwell.  Raji immediately took him to the doctor who said he had caught a virus and gave him a mild sedative and medicines.  The child’s fever was very high and Raji sat by his bedside placing cooling cloth pads on his forehead to lower the temperature.  She was weeping silently.  Then as Bobbie settled down into a fitful rest, she left the room.  

After an hour or so, Bobbie woke up suddenly and cried out to his old pal Balgopal.  He said “please Kanha come and talk to me.  I know I have been busy but you know I love you very much Kanha.”  The lord emerged from the statue and sat by his side.  Then Kanha placed his tiny hand on Bobbie’s forehead and in a few minutes the fever vanished.  Bobbie got up and both played as before.  Then the Lord told Bobbie that now that he had become a big boy he did not need him any more and that whenever he remembered HIM he should close his eyes and he would appear as HE lived in his heart.  He said he had to visit other boys who needed him.  They hugged each other and the Lord merged into the statue never to appear again.

Kesar and Rajratan smiled happily in their portraits which hung in Bobbie’s room and which his sons had left for Bobbie along with the silver statue and the swing.

all pictures are from the internet except last one which is mine 

Baba was a cobbler and polished shoes also.  In his skilled hands even old worn out shoes got a new lease in life.    His mom sewed and repaired for the neighborhood on an ancient machine which was diligently oiled and kept fit.  The three children attended the local school as their baba wanted them to find another profession as cobblers had meager earnings.

Shomu always considered himself a winner and often wished he could change his name to Victor.  He was very fond of this word which he had learnt in his English class.  Slowly the family started calling him Vicky to please him and the old name Shomu was forgotten.

After school, Vicky would run home and help his brothers with homework and his beloved amu with household chores before joining his baba.  He relished polishing shoes and make them shine.  Baba would indulge him but only after ensuring that he had finished his school homework.  Vicky would whistle happily and shine shoes to his heart’s content.  He always got a bit more in tips than his baba.  It was mainly his happy face and cheerful manner that pleased their clientele. 

Vicky had just turned sixteen when he was forced to run his baba’s shoe repair business alone as they’d lost him tragically when a bus with failed brakes mowed him down along with others in its path.  After a lot of hue and cry the bus owners had given each victim’s family a large sum of money.  Vicky’s amu had quickly banked the money for her sons’ higher education and in case there was an emergency.  Vicky joined night school so that he could work in morning to help amu manage the house.  He also ensured that his brothers studied hard and did not get into bad company.

Sen Dada was a regular customer of his baba and now Victor’s. He was in the lottery business.  Each month he’d jested with baba that he should buy a lottery ticket as he’d surely win.  Sen Dada always told baba he was a lucky man indeed with three obedient sons and a hard working bahu (wife).  Baba had remained impassive and always refused
to buy a lottery ticket that cost Rupees twenty.  Now again, Sen Dada tried to sell the lottery ticket.  But Victor stuck to his guns and shook his head and continued shining the shoes.  The shoes literally glistened and Sen Dada could see his face in them.  He was delighted and decided to gift a lottery ticket instead of paying for his shoeshine.  Victor in a weak moment accepted the ticket, breaking his baba’s rule.  He apologized to baba in his heart.

On his way home, Victor stopped at the nearby Durgabaari

and placed the ticket in front of Kali Ma asking for her blessing.  He also told Kali Ma that as far back as he could recall he had always felt like a winner and maybe this ticket would get his family out of poverty and a better way of life.  Then he sped home.

The lottery was a bumper one and the prize money was a whopping fifty lakh rupees.  Every Calcuttan who could afford twenty bucks had bought a ticket.  The momentum had built up and the excitement was palpable and could be cut with a knife.  The madness and razor edge excitement was akin to the one when India played cricket with their arch enemies Pakistan.  Next morning was the drawing day. 

Sen Dada always kept ten tickets for himself.  Now he held nine as the tenth one he had gifted to Victor. 

The numbers were announced and everyone rushed to buy the evening paper as it carried the results in print.  Victor had been so busy whole day long that he had completely forgotten about the ticket.    Suddenly he heard sounds of drum beats approaching as a group of ten of so of his friends and family approached with Sen Dada leading them.

Dada came near and embraced him like a son.  He said, “Victor, you are indeed a Victor.  Your ticket has won the prize money.”  Victor’s mouth fell open.  Then pure joy coursed through his veins making him giddy with happiness.  He pulled the ticket out of his pocket and it matched the numbers in the evening paper.  Suddenly Victor uttered the words, “Where should I keep it, what should I do?  Where should I keep it, what should I do?”  He kept muttering these sentences over and over again.  Victor had lost his mind after his victory!

http://www.binaguptapoetry.com/vicors-dream-part-two-1106.htm

all pictures are from the internet disclaimer

Little Bobby loved to venture now that he could crawl.  His mom Raji was usually at her wit’s end turning pots n pans, closets, nooks and crannies for him.  Finally she’d extricate him with cobwebs hanging on curly locks and dust smearing his cherubic face.  His endearing smile melted her anger and she hugged him to her bosom, thankful that he was safe.

Bobby

“Mom is really busy today and now that my tummy is full, I can go and seek new adventure.”  His tiny anklets tinkling, the baby made a beeline for his favorite haunt, that secret room with big brass inlaid doorway and old fashioned chain and lock where happily he gurgled and cooed as though playing with someone.  Luckily the door had been unlocked for mopping and dusting.

“Today I am going to explore that dark corner which has some really interesting jars and pots.  Even though I like that silver baby in the swing a lot but if I can crawl into the rocking chair, then I can have a better look.  Let’s see if I am able to climb on.” 

Pre-Partition of India and Pakistan

Chowdhary Ratan Singh was greatly respected in his town in West Punjab, now in Pakistan.  His family owned a flourishing business in dry fruits.  His brothers and their families also lived in the rambling mansion.  Ratan had one son and two daughters.  He got his girls settled early and was on the lookout for a suitable bride for his son Rajratan(Raj).  Around that time there was a problem in the dry fruit supply from Kabul and he sent Raj to investigate.  Raj went to meet their main supplier Aftab Khan who invited him for dinner.  There he met Khan’s daughter Kesar and fell head over heels in love with her.  Kesar felt the same pull.  She knew her father was ready to marry her off to her awful cousin Kaif who was a mean person and hence knowing their families would never agree, they bolted to Delhi.

Kesar’s mother was in the know and not only approved but had given whatever money she could lay her hands on and jewelry.  She even sent a maid to help them.  Both the fathers were angry and washed their hands off them and forbid everyone from even uttering their names.  Ratan cursed his first born but on his deathbed forgave his son and wished they had patched up. 
Rajratan Singh and Kesar were hardworking and after selling their jewelry and diamond ear-rings they were able to have enough seed money to start they own dry fruit business in Delhi.  Both knew the supply sources and through a trusted hand were able to build up their business from scratch.  Here in Delhi festivals and marriages took place all the time hence dry fruits were always in demand.  They had chosen well.  The couple missed their old homes.  They constructed their new home incorporating the beauty of both ancestral homes.  The doors had brass inlaid work and the windows and latticed balconies had intricate colored glass designs to keep the harsh summer sun out.  Cross ventilation kept their home cool.  They were happy except for the one recurring pain in their bosom for their kith n kin whom they missed dreadfully.    Raj and Kesar each had worn cameos of their parents around their neck and hence got paintings done of their elders and it occupied a place of honor in their diwan khana (drawing room).  The kids would get to know their grand parents in this manner only.

Time sped and Raj and Kesar’s two sons decided to study abroad where they subsequently married and settled down never to return. The parents  grieved for their sons realizing how their own parents must’ve felt.  They reconciled and now took one day a time.      

There was a lot of unrest against the British rule.  Some firebrand Hindus decided to bomb the local prison and set free their leaders.  Raj and Kesar were in the bazaar when the bomb misfired and were killed instantly.  Their horse buggy driver and jack of all cook Bakshi quickly gathered up their mangled bodies and got them cremated before sundown. Then they dispatched mail to their sons overseas to return home and immerse the ashes in the holy Ganges.    The letters never reached as the post office was bombed the next day.  The sons remained oblivious of their parent’s demise.  Finally the family lawyer as per instructions sold off the mansion keeping one room locked with family heirlooms for the sons whom he had informed via telegram.  It was a clause that was agreed upon by the buyer in the sale deed.  Their parent’s curse did not let Raj and Kesar rest in peace and their ashes languished along with the heirlooms.  They lingered on.

This was the room which attracted the baby most.  The keys had been provided to the new owner for mopping and dusting and for this service the sale price had been adjusted.

Little Bobby managed to climb the rocker in the forbidden room.  He was in seventh heaven.  There were so many interesting objects on the mantle above the fireplace.  Also there were those huge pictures of old people.  He scrambled down and crawled into the corner, when suddenly four hands quickly embraced him and hugged him.  He felt kisses being showered on his cheeks and squealed with delight.  The maid was passing by and heard the sound and came rushing in.  She brought out the dirty squirmy brat and then his mother saw perfect lip marks on his two cheeks! She got the fright of her life!  She decided to investigate.  She saw the nook where Bobby had crawled and there under the red velvet cloth lay two pots tied up with red threads.  They looked like someone’s ashes!

So the old people’s spirits were still in residence!  Oh my God! Her hand flew to her mouth in a silent cry.  She quickly called her husband home and showed him the ashes.

Next morning they called the local pundit who knew the departed well and said that they were waiting for salvation at the hands of their sons.  Fortunately the sons were finally in town to tie up the loose ends of the family business and property sale and had indicated that they would like to see what their parents had stored for them.  They were grief stricken and remorseful about their callous neglect.  But it was too late.  Next day they performed “Havan” and all rituals required to speed off their loved ones.  They immersed the ashes in the holy Ganges.  In their dream their parents had asked them to gift their silver swing with Bal Gopal to little Bobby their little playmate whom they had enjoyed during transition.

Bobby was in seventh heaven as now the secret room was thrown open and made into his playroom.  He slept with the Balgopal by his bedside.  His elderly friends no longer played with him.  They were resting in peace.

pictures from internet- not mine

   
 
Sikkim, my beloved home is indeed a Shangri La and it is doubly dear now that I’ve met my love here.  Thank God for the swine flu outbreak overseas that made Sikkim her choice for vacation instead of Europe.

  
 
Sunaina (Guddi) was aptly named as she had large doe shaped eyes with gold flecks, light brown hair to match and a svelte figure.  Her coloring was wheatish with a perfect nose and lips.  Overall her features were well sculpted and hailing from a robust sport loving family from Punjab, she was in fine form and disgustingly healthy.  Even her back breaking routine as a medical student had not made a dent in her stunning looks. She was a beauty in every sense of the word and was used to guys falling head over heels in love with her.  Tom and Jerry as she lovingly called her two older brothers Sunil and Kapil both hockey players kept her under their watchful eyes and no one dared to misbehave with their little sister “Guddi” (doll).  Guddi was effervescent and bubbly and her only fault was she loved challenges so much so that she got into many scrapes.
 
Kunal (KK) was from Gangtok, the capital of Sikkim.  He found the spirit of sports all around him as he was born into a family with many well known sportspersons including Sikkim Royalty.  KK took up the game of Archery at a tender age and emerged as an excellent Archer and his illustrious career culminated when he was honored with the Arjuna Award by the Government of India.  He became a household name after winning the Olympic Gold medal.  KK was quiet by nature.  He was fairly tall at five feet ten and had an athletic body due to a five mile run every morning.  His face had a haunting quality, with dark brooding eyes that had the stillness of a deep thinker.  His looks were swarthy and his eyes had a hint of slant that added to his intriguing persona.  His looks beckoned and held yet did not encourage.  He was an introvert yet once people got to know him they loved him lifelong.  He was true and loyal to a fault.  Unspoiled by his success, he was down to earth and took it all in his stride.  Besides archery, he was a writer and had written many books under the pen name “Shivam”.  His books sold well and fetched handsome royalties.  Besides which his family owned property and a couple of restaurants and travel business in the state.  They were an entity in Sikkim.  He had one elder sister Pema Kusho who was married and lived in Katmandu, Nepal.  One odd thing about him was that even though local girls and others chased him around and sent alluring feelers, he did not trust anyone.  He had a deep seated fear of betrayal in love.   His parents knew better and did not force marriage on him either.  They felt he needed to find a soul mate himself.  They however hopefully rang bells and made wishes whenever they visited Buddhist monasteries.  They were eager for a grandchild.

 
Guddddiiii! Her friends jeered.  “We dare you to make that runner fall in love with you! They had challenged.  None of them was aware of KK’s identity and had only seen him run every morning like clockwork and they had seen his agile body and impassive face and had fallen for him.  Guddi (Sunaina) was here for two weeks with her childhood friends Pia and Sia who were fraternal twins.  Together they created quite a ruckus and folks usually smiled at their boisterous ways.  Guddi said “No Problem. He will be eating out of my hand long before our vacation is over!”  She planned well for her “love game” (shikaar).

Next morning wearing her jogging suit, light makeup and ponytail she ran headlong into KK.  Her onward rush knocked them both off their feet and they fell down in a heap.  Brushing themselves they got up and apologized profusely to each other!  KK said “Please let me make up for this and take you out for lunch!”  Guddi was delighted! Her plan had succeeded.  KK had thought it had been his fault! She shook hands and promised to meet at the nearby restaurant and triumphantly entered her hotel.  Pia and Sia pounced on her and seeing her gloating smile they understood.  She said she had been invited for lunch.  They giggled collectively.  Guddi wanted to look her best and hence pulled out the beautiful sheath dress that she had purchased in the local market that enhanced her beauty manifold.  She was a knockout in that dress and soon went for her rendezvous.

KK could not stop chiding himself.  “Why did I have to call her for lunch? What has come over me?  I should’ve apologized profusely and come away! Why can’t I stop thinking about her? He questioned himself.  He decided to be polite and not give away to his feelings.  He had to collect himself and be calm.  His heart seemed to have a mind of its own. 
Lunch was an eye opener for the both of us.  After I had literally floored him with my brush, why do I feel floored now?  I seem to be drowning in his deep mesmerizing eyes!  He is an exotic bird of this wonderful Shangri La and I know the family back home would be shocked by my choice! But this time, I feel I have really fallen hard.  I have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, my hands and eyes are fluttery and I cannot stop wondering about him.  I wonder how he feels about me. O God! What is happening to me? Is this love?  It is painful, so it must be real.

I was so excited that I was finally going to meet her.  Now my tongue is tied in knots.  Am I psyching myself to shine in her eyes?  Why can’t I string two words together?  And I consider myself a writer.  If this is love then I am surely doomed!

KK and Guddi had a silent lunch broken by intermittent monosyllables
Both felt strong emotional undercurrents.

The only good thing that came about during lunch was that Guddi came to know KK was a national hero and a celebrity in his own right and the restaurant staff and owner felt honored by his patronage.   This fact filled her with joy.  She also felt relieved inside!

During the next ten days, KK and Guddi came to know each other well and shared all their feelings and emotions.  They became inseparable as they were totally in love.  KK’s parents were delighted and came to love and accept Guddi wholeheartedly.  Pia and Sia tactfully left them alone and were secretly happy for their beloved friend.  They too came to know and love KK.  Now all of them were keeping their fingers crossed as the last hurdle was to get a blessing from Guddi’s family.  They felt that would be a hard nut to crack!

http://www.binaguptapoetry.com/the-lovers-part-ii-mirza-sahiban-1022.htm

Guddi was in seventh heaven after she came to know that her beloved author “Shivam” was her KK!  She had read every single book written by him.  She longed for her parents to meet KK in person as she knew they would be impressed by him.  KK and his family were scheduled to arrive in Delhi the following week to attend a formal dinner at the Rashtrapati Bhawan (Presidential palace) that was being given to honor India’s Olympic team and the Republic Day honoraries.  KK’s family was planning to meet with Guddi’s parents during this visit. 

The families met and liked each other but still the Singh family balked at this alliance mainly due to the “Gurkha” hilly features of the Kusho family even though they were impressed by the diluted royal bloodline.
They had reached an impasse.

Guddi quietly took KK to the local gurudwara whose head priest was her friend and right from her childhood had been her confidante and consoler.  She felt he would help them out.

The head priest and seer, a realized holy man was revered by the local community.  His words were treated with due respect and reverence.
He liked Guddi and KK at first glance and knew they belonged together.  He looked into their eyes and liked what he saw.  He gave them his blessings and asked them to return with their parents within the hour. 

The two families met the priest in his private chamber and what he told them, startled them all.

***
  Story of Mirza-Sahiba

The Lord of the Jatts – Mirza Jatt – The Archer of the Archers. The Jatt of the Jatts.
And Sahiba the beautiful love lorn soul.

 
Mirza and Sahiban were first cousins as he was sahiba’s mother’s brother’s son. They fell in love with each other. But she was  forcibly being made to wed Tahar Khan instead, by her parents. Sahiba at once sends a taunting message to Mirza, whom she loves, at his village Danabad, through a Brahmin called Kammu.
 It said:

“You must come and decorate Sahiban’s hand with the marriage henna.”

Mirza Khan was the son of Wanjhal Khan, the leader of the Kharal tribe in Danabad, a town in the Jaranwala area of Faisalabad, Pakistan. Sahiba was the daughter of Mahni, the chief of Khewa, a town in Sial Territory in the Jhang district Punjab,Pakistan. Mirza was sent to his relatives’ house in Khewa to study, where he met Sahiba and they fell in love. Her family opposed the relationship, and instead arranged a marriage with a member of the Chadhar family.

In those times people valued their self respect and love, kept their promises, and sacrificed life for truth. Mirza arrived on his horse, Bakki the night before the wedding and secretly carried her away, planning to elope. Sahiba’s brothers got to know about this and decided to follow them. On the way, as Mirza lies under the shade of a tree to rest for a few moments, Sahiba’s brothers caught up with them.

Sahiba was a virtuous and a beautiful soul who did not desire any bloodshed to mar the one she loved. She did not want her hands drenched in blood instead of henna. She thinks Mirza cannot miss his target, and if he strikes, her brothers would surely die. Before waking up Mirza, Sahiban breaks his arrows so he can’t use them. She presumes on seeing her, her brothers would feel sorry and forgive Mirza and take him in their arms. Now Sials and Chandarhs arrive and surround Mirza Jatt. Mirza Jatt gets his Mighty Sword out and starts defending himself but he is one against many. Despite being alone, he fights like a Mighty Warrior and a ferocious Lion but is eventually outnumbered.  Mirza Jatt is hit on the back fatally by Chandarh Jatts and The Great Mirza Jatt Kharral dies.  Sahiba is grief stricken and mourns the death of her lover.  It is said that she died on the spot out of shock and remorse at what she had done. Other’s say Sahiban slaughtered herself with a sword and thus bid farewell to this world.
 
 
Meanwhile Mirza’s Family, mother and sister mourn as the horse Bakki reaches Danabad without Mirza and they come to know the entire story.  Mirza’s Family soon reach the spot where both Mirza and Sahiba lay dead.
 
Mirza Jatt and Sahiba Jatti were buried together and their graves still exist in West Punjab. Sahiba died on the spot but Mirza the supreme Jatt became Immortal forever, in the hearts and minds of the Jatt People. 

***

Some say that Mirza’s horse Bakki was from Shri Guru Gobind Singh’s (10th sikh guru)horse’s blood line. Mirza sahiba’s story is the only story where the guy’s name comes first and then the girl’s. Mirza’s love was greater like a steady flame whilst her’s wavered for both her family and lover.

Mirza–Sahiban is a treasure of Punjabi literature. It is a romantic tragedy

**   ***  ***

The priest then revealed that both the families were the reincarnated Jatt families of Mirza Sahiban and after many lifetimes it was ordained that justice had to be finally served and the two souls had to united. 

The Singhs were rather shook up and quietly agreed without any further reservations.  The lovers were elated.

Note: mirza sahibaan’s story and pictures are from internet only