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    All is Well
    All is Well
    All is Well
    Ebook118 pages1 hour

    All is Well

    By Raja Sharma

    ()

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    About this ebook

    In the present book:

    All is Well

    A Wet Evening

    Hello, this is Sonu

    Inevitable Bonds

    Image on Ripples

    Chapter One

    Chapter Two

    Chapter Three

    Chapter Four

    Overnight Guest

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRaja Sharma
    Release dateJul 14, 2011
    ISBN9781465932051
    All is Well
    Author

    Raja Sharma

    Raja Sharma is a retired college lecturer.He has taught English Literature to University students for more than two decades.His students are scattered all over the world, and it is noticeable that he is in contact with more than ninety thousand of his students.

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      Book preview

      All is Well - Raja Sharma

      All is Well

      By Raja Sharma

      Copyright@2011Raja Sharma

      Smashwords Edition

      Chapter 1: All is Well

      Though five decades of existence in this world has taught me a few things, yet, I feel that there is a lot more to know about, and, in fact, I believe that this one life is going to be too short to know all about those things which appeal to me the most. One such thing is love, yes, the four letter word which has mesmerized writers, poets, singers, kings, queens, and almost every human, including some of the animals, who have ever experienced the slightest of it.

      Love being a temporary madness is often heard and it is also heard that it erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. Undoubtedly, the subsiding emotion resulting from love brings a pause when you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is! A love Guru, highly esteemed and widely read has said ‘Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being in love which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossoms had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two…’

      I believe that only at the time of my last breath would I be able to resolve the mystery of love, for I am still in the process of experiencing it in one or the other form.

      Why I am trying to teach you all this has a story behind it and it goes like this:

      Like an obedient public servant, my father got transferred from city to city, consequently not giving me enough exposure of any one place in particular. Frequent transfers happen to be a part of life if one is honest and does not misuse one’s power in government jobs. My father was the incarnation of honesty and hard work. My mother and I tagged along wherever he went. My mother did not like shifting from city to city but I liked it because, now I realize, it added immensely to my knowledge of the places and people.

      After his retirement, my father bought a piece of land in a village, Chamanpur, and settled down there. About twenty acres of land was enough to have a big house constructed, surrounded by a small garden. Many of his former colleagues have their houses in the neighbour hood and they live like a big family. My father’s house is quite comfortable and almost everything is at his disposal, even after his retirement. He was a Senior Officer, A Grade, and the pension is more than he requires in that village.

      Inspite of all the comforts, he has at least one thought always haunting him and it brings him sorrow. I, his only son, am the cause of his worry. He believes that I am a useless fellow and I won’t be able to do anything worth in my life. He wanted to see me as an officer on a high government post but I have not fulfilled his desire. Not only my professional career, but my one particular decision hurts him very much. I refused to marry my childhood friend, Sunayana, for the reasons which will be made known in the ensuing part. According to my father, Sunayana was the best girl to become my wife. He might be right because she is highly qualified and she is very beautiful but I have never given importance to these virtues.

      Sunayana is the daughter of my father’s best friend, Mr. Chaman Lal. His house is next to my father’s house. They wanted that Sunayana and I should get married so that their friendship could be changed into family relations.

      When we were school students, Sunayana and I spent most of our time together after the school but when we grew up, she went her way and I followed mine. She wanted to go for higher studies and I was worried about a way which could provide me substantial income.

      Fortunately, I got a very lucrative job and our meetings got rare because she had joined a college for her higher studies. Whenever I came back home, my mother and father compelled me to change my decision. They literally forced me to marry Sunayana but I did not relent.

      My father often said, She is not going to wait for you any longer. Get married soon.

      I have not thought about it, father.

      When will you think? You are past thirty now… my father was really worried.

      Where is she nowadays?

      She is studying in Calcutta. You can at least call her. Here is her phone number, said my father and handed me a piece of paper with Sunayana’s phone number on it.

      Having come back to the city, I began to think seriously. After all I had to marry. What is the harm in marrying Sunayana? I decided to meet her. I called her one evening.

      Hello, Sunayana…

      Hello, who…

      This is Sajan. Don’t you recognize my voice? I laughed.

      Sorry, Sajan, after three years, so suddenly…I had never thought that you would call me, her laughter was the same which he was habitual to tolerate when she teased him in the years gone past.

      I want to meet you.

      Since when have you become so formal? she laughed again.

      Finally, I told her to meet me at Victoria Memorial, the following evening.

      The first thing which struck me was her glasses, almost hiding her beautiful eyes.

      When did you start wearing these glasses?

      About two years…

      You never informed me…

      What is so special in it?

      I felt quite uncomfortable for the reason which was quite obvious to me. She was not a school girl; she was a young woman with all the qualities which strike a young man. Then here glasses were standing between us like the biggest impediment. It was quite different when we were children, we used to talk, quarrel, tease, and sometimes shout at each other, but now everything had changed. I did not know how to begin and what to say. My mind began to work in a high gear. She was observing me very minutely. Her smile was constant.

      It was my duty to break the ice since I had invited her. Our growth as a young man and a woman had erected an invisible wall which separated us. I could sense demureness on her face as well.

      I rallied the courage and began, How are your studies going on?

      What studies?

      You are doing M. A., aren’t you? I said casually.

      Where have you been? I passed M. A. last year, she began to laugh.

      But your father said that you remain busy studying? said

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