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Our Life N Our Space Our Life N Our Space Mukherjee Nagar - Part 2
Our Life N Our Space Our Life N Our Space Mukherjee Nagar - Part 2
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This is in continuation of the earlier part - Mukherjee Nagar Part 1 But he is not the one to take anything for granted. Immediately after the interview he starts preparing for the next year preliminary. The rationale is “karmanye badhikaraste, ma phaleshu kadachan” and UPSC journey teaches him that. The result declaration day is nearing, and everybody is demanding a party to our Mr Cynosure-of-all-eyes. But ever humble he is, he does not pay any heed to any such pre-party plans. In fact, by know, our friend has already known that the only one who understands him is his books and the cutting tea that has become his perpetual friend in the last 3 and half years. Finally, the day comes.
He goes to a temple at Mukherjee Nagar and prays Lord for the favourable result. The priest says, “Bhagban ke mathe se phool gira hey, aapka sab asha purna hoga.” Our Mr religious, gets overwhelmed and pays a hundred rupees as the ‘dakshina’ to the priest. Then he takes the local bus and rushes to UPSC. Like last time, he reaches UPSC office by 2 PM. But he thinks, this time is inauspicious as last year it has not been lucky for him. So he goes to the tea vendor at the rear side of UPSC. The tea vendor vaguely identifies this Mr Tea Lover, and wishes him very best of luck. Our Mr Tea lover, gives him 10 rupees extra ‘baksheesh’ and as a return gesture the tea vendor gives one piece of cookies. At around four in the evening, when the results are going to be pasted, Mr Anticipation runs to the notice board like a kid, tearing through the sea of students. Here we see one different angle of the serene and saintly ‘him’. Today he is like a little kid full of excitement to see his results and more precisely see his name in the list. He has already planned; he will leave Mukherjee Nagar immediately, rush back to his parents and show the results to them. He is so enthusiastic, but the UPSC peon is taking umpteen times to paste the results on the notice board. He thinks, if he becomes the administrator, he will do away with this kind of lethargy and make the government function super fast may be as fast as a bullet train running in Japan. And why not! He has not decided to come to the system, to be a part of it, rather a harbinger of change. And finally, after a heart stopping delay of fifteen minutes the results are finally pasted in the UPSC notice board.
What is this, our Mr Anxious name is not in top ten, not even in top 100, not even in top 500 and not even among the 637 qualified students. The earth comes still, Mr anxious is crest fallen. What went wrong he cannot understand? Why it has happened again? What is his fault? He has given each and every second of last three years to the UPSC examination. He has done exceedingly well in all the three parts of the examination and still he is standing at nowhere. Last year this time, there was sea of tears in his eyes, this time it is not. He is silent, silent like a rock, unable to move. His mobile phone is ringing. He is unable to hear the loud ring. Somebody reminds him of it. Our Mr Silent sees the caller. It is his anxious father. What reply will he give to him? A lowly government servant, has dreamed of his son to be a collector and his dreams are shattered for the second time in row. What answer shall he give to the poor soul? When your dream is broken you can recover; but when your dream is interwoven with the dreams of many, then recovery is next to impossible. And you feel guilt perpetually. What is guilt? Guilt is a misnomer for the fundamental human feeling. The fundamental human feeling is fear. When you say you are guilty, it means you are afraid that you have done some great blunder. Same is the case of happiness. When you are happy, you are feigning that you have kept your fear in abeyance for some time. And now our Mr Anxious has become Mr Fearful. He cuts the call. The phone rings again. He cuts the call and puts it switch off.
The adjacent rooms to the room no-4, 2nd lane Mukherjee nagar starts witnessing new things. Every day morning they see bottles of old monk rum lying in front of room no-4. The days of cutting tea have been replaced by the nights of old monk. The room now rarely opens in the day time. Many have tried to see what is going on there, but nobody gets a clue. The preliminary exam is scheduled to be on May 14th and one hears loud music played on a laptop and breaking of glass bottles from the room on 12th evening. Of course people are getting disturbed all this unsocial behaviour but nobody has the guts to go and talk face to face with our Mr Arrogant. On the morning of 14th may we see the ghost of a person coming out of the room no 4 and boards a taxi to UPSC examination centre. Now nobody in Mukherjee Nagar seems to care for this Mr Arogant, who is now our Mr Failure. In the evening he returns with a full bottle of rum. The ‘chaiwala’ asks “saab cutting?”, our Mr Arrogant gives him a very dirty look and the boy runs without saying a word.
When the doors of room-4 close with a creek, everybody gets to know that it will not open in the day time at all for months together. And it is not completely unwarranted thought. The heaps of old monk bottles in front of room-4 are increasing day by day. But no one seems to care. The Mr Magnanimous of yester years has been branded as utter failure, just because he is not able to clear one examination. Everybody knows, no examination can ever judge one’s intellect, one’s knowledge or one’s capability; but it has become a measuring yard in Mukherjee Nagar that clearing UPSC examination means the person is a success. This construed definition of success has parochialised the mindset of people all over India. So long as an UPSC aspirant does not find his name in the “List”, he is a nobody and suddenly after the result comes he becomes ‘somebody’. Though everybody in Mukherjee Nagar fail to realise the sudden transformation from ‘nobody’ to ‘somebody’ overnight, nobody seems to go into finer details. The perceived success seems to have overtaken the real intellectual capital and a mere examination of pen and paper and two hours, with all its vagaries of subjectivity and all, has become the determinant of a knowledgeable person. This view of knowledge is quite contrast to what we hold “sa vidya ja bimuktaye”. Today knowledge means nothing but to be bound in chains everywhere. It is no more salvation, but a media of perpetual slavery to the forces of unknown. And who else other than our Mr Failure knows it better.
Times flies and the heap of old monk bottles increase. Then on August 4th the preliminary results are announced. Contrary to any body’s weirdest expectation, our Mr Failure passes the examination. The whole of Mukherjee Nagar is surprised that the spark still lights. While everybody is preparing for the mains examination, Mr Failure was taking rounds and rounds of movie theatres, shopping malls, railway stations, travelling aimlessly in metro rail and gazing aimlessly at the sky. Nobody remembers the last time Mr Failure who is now Mr weird has ever spoken a word. Nobody in last 4 years has ever entered his room. Nobody has ever seen him having food at canteen or hotel or in cafeteria. What he does or what kind of life he leads, nobody knows and nobody seems to be interested in that. While the residents of the hotel were burning midnight oils, Mr Weird’s frequency of roaming in the city increases. The young lad has changed to a grunting heavy man with uncombed head, unshaved beards and unironed dirty clothes. We see, the examination has taken a toll in his life. There is no sign of the suave English Hons student of St Stephan’s college. Life has changed so much. The support from family also seemingly decreased because Mr Weird has sold his cell phone and nobody ever seen him visiting his parent’s home or his parents ever coming to Delhi. But nobody is sure how he is managing his stay in the hostel. The gossip mongers say, he enjoys the old boy privilege!!
The mains examination comes and goes by. People are feeling the heat as the result day draws nearer. But our Mr Weird is unperturbed. Talks are round the corner that Mr weird is a liability in the Diaspora of UPSC aspirants. And our Mr Hero of yester year also knows that. So this time round, he does not go to UPSC office to look for the results. Miracles do happen and Mr Weird clearing the mains examination for consecutive third time is not a small miracle. The whole of Mukherjee Nagar is talking about the weird looking person roaming aimlessly. People come to congratulate him, only to run away seeing his fearsome figure and deadly silence. And our Mr weird is thinking, how one simple examination changes his personality. The hero turns into an utter failure and now rechristened as a Hero again. Is there no life beyond the UPSC examination for aspirants? This is one examination of paper and pen and not the examination which differentiates life from death. Why so much emphasis is given to it? And who are the causalities, the aspirants themselves. The only beneficiaries are the coaching institutes and the hostel owners. Mr Weird who has become Mr Philosopher has a strong dislike towards the mushrooming coaching centres which are run by those who have not cleared UPSC examination during their time of struggle.
The interview date draws near, and our Mr Philosopher goes to the interview a little bit decently dressed. We see, the aura has not completely tarnished, it is still there but lot more subdued. The dark circles around his eyes, and the receding hairline suggests, the young lad of 22 now has become a man of 27. Our Mr philosopher gets the most liberal board. His interview lasts for forty long minutes and nobody knows how he performed. He comes out of the UPSC and hits to the nearest bar for alcohol. What is our Mr Philosopher’s action plan now? Nobody has ever dared to ask this. But most know it is a momentary flash and our Mr philosopher is a spent force. The result day comes near and our Mr anxious of yester years has no mood to go to UPSC office to look for his results. He is unperturbed and goes back to his old monk.
Finally, we hear the talk that Mr Philosopher has finally done it. His name is present in the UPSC reserved list. Once the Supreme Court decision is made, the reserve list candidates will be getting posts. But Mr Philosopher knows his luck very much. He knows the court order are not going to be declared any sooner and reserve list candidate means as good as failure and he has seen so much of failure in the last 5 years that things seem to very easy for him. Our Mr philosopher, who has become Mr Sadist, thinks if he becomes successful he will be more nervous and tense than he is now. He decides he will finally give a visit to his native place.
The people in Mukherjee Nagar thought, Mr Homebound will never come back again; but to their utter surprise he comes back the next day and the door again closes to be opened after eternity. Nobody has ever seen when Mr Sadist, who is now Mr Lonely has appeared the prelims, nobody knows when he appeared the mains. But when the mains results are declared, it runs like wild fire throughout Mukherjee Nagar that our Mr lonely has again cleared the mains, the fourth consecutive time. It is no mean achievement. But our Mr lonely, like always the looniest person on earth, does not think of it at all. He silently readies for the interview.
Today is the interview day. Mr Lonely, unlike the past three interviews, decides to go by public bus. In the bus he is thinking, this is what he is waiting for. The game is finally going to get over. The perpetual cycle of prelims-mains-interview is now going to get over. Success or no success it matters nothing. The ebb is going to be finished. What he has gained in life, what he has lost is too frivolous a question to ask. He enters this Pandora’s Box at the age of 22 and now he is all set to get out of it at the age of 28. The best productive years of his life are over running behind a mirage, so near yet so far. Now what lies ahead for him? He has spent half of his productive life and he is at the same position where he was six years back. He has buried himself into books and books and nothing else. Life is not about giving examinations. Life is for living and living it to the fullest. What good does this make either he becomes a collector or he does not? He has lost his six best years of life running and running. Never has taken a moment’s rest to enjoy the world, enjoy the life he has. Is it worth? A white ambassador with red light atop can never return the last six years. Human life is so precious and wasting it not for nothing is the weirdest possible thing a man can ever do. There is life beyond UPSC and that life is as good and as serene as like anything divine. But why to crack head on this examination, whose subjective disposition is beyond any rationale. Still it is like opium, once you are into hardly you can get out. Success or failure makes a great impact on your mind. Forever you are a war torn hero. But whilst the success promises you the royal white ambassador, the failure destroys your life like nothing.
They failures are the pillars of success, but it is hardly an argument any rational person could buy for. Failures are heart burn and a failure in UPSC examination leaves you perpetually psyched. And failing consecutively third time, is not something that can be easy to digest. Now the last chance, one more interview to face, one more wait for result and who knows may be heart break once more. But it’s ok till this. But when the last attempt gets over, what lies ahead? The journey of a life time is over. No knowledge of what the outer world looks like. Long forgotten are the social responsibilities. Now thrown back to the society is as good as thrown back to solitary confinement. Life has been there for ten years, moving around a loop, but when it is finally the time to come out, there is nowhere to go. The so called vastness of life now seems so narrow. But life is to be lived, be IAS or not.
Our Mr Lonely reaches the UPSC office. Same scene he has been visiting for the fourth and final time. Same anxious faces, some new, some old. Same UPSC officials and same waiting hall. Only change is the newly installed tea vending machine. He remembers his dalliances with the cutting tea, which he has left in favour of old monk shorties. He wants to feel bad but he can’t. He is now devoid of the feelings like good bad ugly. He knows he exists therefore he thinks and there is absolutely no need for thinking at all in life. All through the years he has learnt, “thinking is such a waste of time.” And here comes his call for interview.
In front of the interview room, he sees the name of the panel head. Some new panel it is. He has never cared to enquire the panels and he is least perturbed about this either. He enters the interview room for the final time, wishes the members good morning for the final time and gets ready to answer their questions one last time. The clock is ticking, time seems to have stopped and our Mr Lonely does not have any idea what questions are being posed to him and what answer he is giving. But the interview is going on...for one final time.
After 38 minutes he comes out. Now he feels free, feels all burdens are lifted. He can roam around like a free soul on this beautiful earth. It has been six and half years he has enjoyed this world. He will do it now. The thought of “What next” no longer troubles him. Now he can fly in the sky, very high, higher than anybody ever imagined. And once you go so high, you can’t look down and you don’t need to get scared. Once you reach a definite height, you can never fall down and our Mr Bird is about to take off his flight. He does not want to introspect. And there is no point in doing that. It is a new birth for him. He is finally free from the war between “me” and “me”. There is no more hope, there is no more disasters; no more aim, no more fear of wandering; there is only one path before him to fly higher and higher. Results will be declared in next ten days, but who cares. It is time to bid final good bye to Mukherjee Nagar, but who is concerned. It is time to go home after so long, only to see a crying mother and a helpless and silent father; but who is bothered.
Is he a failure or is he not? Question so difficult to frame but so easy to answer. He is neither success nor failure. He is beyond that. Today success will not bring happiness into his lips; neither can failure bring forth tears. He is undisturbed by the praise or sarcasm of people. His essential truth is he exists. He is absolute and not the UPSC. How can some non-absolutism contradict A is A? And now as everything is finally over he still exists and that is the only absolutism.
Then nobody has ever seen our Mr lonely, who is no Mr, absconded. The owner of the hostel occupied the room and sold all his belongings. Nobody seems to care, where Mr absconded gone. Some say he has gone back to his native place, some say he went to Himalaya and even some say, he has committed suicide. But within a couple of days people forget somebody has ever occupied room no 4 for seven long years. And gradually, his existence becomes a faint memory within a week.
The results were declared on May 6th. People rushed to UPSC office, some glued themselves to internet and searched for their names. As the results are generally published roll number wise, it is difficult to know who the top ranker is. But somebody came across the top ranker, and it is MANAS M. MAHESHWARI. Who is this fellow?
Within no time, the news spread like wild fire. The weird fellow in room-4 is topper. The Mr Absconded, the Mr Lonely, the Mr Weird, the Mr philosopher, the Mr Genius and the fragile lad that set his foot first in this hostel 7 years ago is the topper. Everybody, the whole of Mukherjee Nagar rushes in to congratulate him, but...HE IS NO WHERE TO BE FOUND!!
p.s. Of course he is nowhere to be found physically, but he is the absolute, his existence is reality supreme. He is there everywhere around us looking at us, laughing at our perpetual struggle to clear UPSC examination, he tells us life is beyond UPSC, life is not an examination all through, but we hardly seem to understand. So finally I ask, is it worth to waste so much of precious time to clear this examination? I sincerely believe, one should give this examination once and only once, success or failure notwithstanding.
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