I am an Independent Creative Consultant dealing with Advertising, Direct Marketing, Viral, Digital & Interactive Communications, et al. I primarily function under the banner of MeSushovan and provide ad agencies, communication network, brand boutiques, creative shops and the like with Creative Solutions as a Creative Outsource to them. The Brands, so far I have handled, are Microsoft, Samsung, Sharp, Pepsi, The Times of India, Airtel, Aktel, Reliance India Mobile, Apollo Hospitals (Dhaka), Wild Stone Deo (for men), Anmol Biscuit, Olympic Energy Plus Biscuit, Dhaka Bank, Allahabad Bank, etc. to name a few. And the agencies, I have done my stint with, are Mudra, Wunderman (Y&R), ARC Worldwide, A Positive Euro, and others. I also co-own a first of its kind designer studio Brand called YOUnique... because you are unique. And unless you visit www.itsyounique.blogspot.com, you are sure to miss on something that's really unique! For more details on me and my work, feel free to shoot your mail to: rana12feb@gmail.com In case you want to read my Blog, simply visit http://kidntramp.blogspot.com/ If you wish to write with me, anytime, anything, just take a peek into http://dowr8.blogspot.com/ And to view a selected set of interesting TVCs of mine, all you got to do is click http://www.youtube.com/user/mesushovan
While returning home, I was thinking about Fakir. My friend Fakir - whose corpse was burning behind at the crematorium. For those with raising eyebrows; Fakir was Muslim but he preferred fire to soil. To him there was no difference between Lord Shiva and Allah.
Fakir happened to be a very simple guy. Very simple, indeed. As his name suggests, the guy never had any greed whatsoever for any earthly possession. It was always music and writing that would tug at his heartstrings.
My association with Fakir was for long. Pretty long. If I say correctly, it was for no fewer than 37 years. Yes, we were kind of born together.
Fakir lost his mother quite early. Then his father. He made himself almost on his own. The only asset my dead friend inherited from his departed parents was a heart – that was simply matchless, priceless and very true, for sure.
Unfortunate, that the fire in the pyre won’t spare this heart unlike his naval.
Honestly, I have never seen anyone like Fakir – who just used to believe in the power of love and honesty.
Fakir was a very good singer in fact. And that was the quality, which attracted and then attached Rani to him.
The two fell in love in a flash, crossing each other’s path for the first time in life. Of course, there were love and passion between them, so was their conflict of education, upbringing and culture. The formation of their respective beliefs, principles and morals was not in conjunction at all to say the least.
But they were in love. Madly. (Or should I say badly and sadly, as Fakir is no more.)
The drift between Rani and Fakir started when Fakir visited Rani’s place to meet her parents. Rani’s family members, precisely her mother, made sure that Fakir got humiliated, hassled and heckled by them like anything.
Why so? Because Rani’s parents were moneyed unlike Fakir – to whom money never counted.
From there, many dramas took the stage one after another at Rani’s place, so that Rani dumped Fakir.
Many tags such as Satan, Hypnotizer, Urchin, and the like were assigned to Fakir as the easy and prompt descriptors of him. The poor guy never knew or understood what his fault was.
He kept asking Rani about it. He cried. He lost his temper on this issue. He lost his sleep. He almost lost himself.
Still, Rani said nothing.
Days were flying off. There were ups and downs in their relationship. However, they managed to cling onto the side of their rocking boat in order to stay together in the sea of their emotions that had become quite turbulent by then.
Intelligent Fakir asked Rani to help herself slip into the life-jacket and leave him. For, the guy realized Rani was actually keener to harbor inside a safe cocoon than fighting against the odd tides by being beside Fakir.
But, Rani said nothing.
Instead, Rani hanged around. She insisted they tied up the knot in a hurry. She literally forced Fakir to perform the event. In the midst of a high current situation, their marriage was solemnized.
Immediately after the wedding, Rani went back to her place for a few days leaving behind a promise that she would come back. Soon.
Fakir found another job to get himself indulged in. That was counting days for Rani’s arrival.
Fakir was happy. Very happy. He thought, honestly, that Rani also turned happy as a result of their marriage. Thus, to add respect, amplification and shine to their happiness, Fakir began to acknowledge Rani as his wife. In private as well as in public.
And to share his happiness with all and sundry, he never felt like taking any permission from his wife Rani.
So, Rani said nothing.
On the contrary, the poor chap was accused of bringing insult and disrespect to Rani because Fakir told and exposed the truth to the world that Rani became his wife.
Fakir lost his speech. His eyes went blurred. His heart was almost chocked. And he didn’t know what to do next. The guy fell sick. Seriously.
He kept trying to reach Rani. Everyday, in every second.
Though, Rani said nothing.
After that episode, suddenly, two guys from Rani’s place came to Fakir. One of them literally challenged Fakir by saying what the hell Fakir could do in case Rani didn’t turn up.
Fakir did nothing but gave the petty person a walkover with a plate of sweets.
Following their visit an eye-wash reception was arranged to accept Fakir as a mere compromise, as if thrown upon Rani and her RICH family. To prove this point and instill more pain into Fakir’s injury, Rani’s father made sure that Fakir’s late mother’s name got dropped off the invitation card.
Fakir got upset. Terribly upset. He asked for a proper clarification from Rani.
Yet, Rani said nothing.
Rani’s family reached at Fakir’s city to organize the party. As planned, they visited Fakir’s siblings just a day before the event. And pursuing her ulterior motive, Rani’s mother left no stone unturned to perform a well calculated rudali-show or sobbing drama to express her helplessness on conceding Fakir as Rani’s husband.
Because she knew it for a fact, when Fakir would come back home and listen to it, he would blow off his mind’s fuse. And if it happened, she had a chance to call off the party by taking Rani in her confidence holding Fakir responsible for every mess.
Clever Fakir got it very clear. So, quite willingly he walked into their well laid out trap. He reacted strongly and vehemently to the ongoing fracas – as brought to him by Rani and her family and relatives.
As expected, they latched onto this provided spark of Fakir. A big fire ball was created by blowing off naked lies, manipulated stories and fabricated tales simply out of proportion, in tandem with Fakir’s residual wrath and frustration
The reception got cancelled.
And, Rani said nothing.
She along with her family went back home. Prior to that, she asserted that she was INSECURE with her husband Fakir.
Got to be! If a husband always wants his wife beside him how can a wife be secure?! LOL.
A few days were spent.
Then a letter of false allegation greeted Fakir. He was charged of executing unbearable mental and physical torture on Rani. He was blamed to bring insult and disrespect to Rani’s parents and family members and relatives.
This letter entailed the Petition for dissolution of their marriage on mutual consent.
Each paper was duly signed by Rani.
Nevertheless, Rani said nothing.
Fakir signed on the papers. Arranged an advocate for Rani. And gave the green signal for the legal proceedings.
Rani was elated. So were her family members and all other relatives. Seeing them happy Fakir also felt good. Quite relieved.
To celebrate his peace, he called me up. I went to his place. We talked. We sang. We boozed. We enjoyed, together. Whole night.
At dawn Fakir had to catch some sleep. So had I.
We slept. After a few hours I woke up. But Fakir kept sleeping…
In the evening the hearse car came.
The pyre was all set to welcome my friend Fakir.
I said, “Goodbye!”
Rani said nothing.
After all, Fakir too said nothing.
The moral of the story is: "Say nothing to feign humble and live long!"
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