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My book ‘ Leader of Millions‘ is now available on paperback edition.

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First chapter of ‘The revenge of Gandhi’s follower’ 

A Different Kid

Many people know me as a writer, like any normal man while watching any movie I used to relate myself with the hero, I had placed myself in the main character of every story I wrote so far. I am a successful man in the eyes of the society. The social network has seen millions of my followers. Surely, I am the idol to the young generation. But here’s a story where I couldn’t place myself as the leader but only a supporting character. This story I consider him as the leader.


I first met him when I was thirteen. I had passed my seventh standard and had come to my uncle’s house to take admission in high school as our village had a primary school only. It was during the summer vacation. I sat under a mango tree with my cycle by my side. The tree had weighed down by the mangoes; some were ripe, smelling delicious but my focus was over the field in front of me, where a cricket match was about to start. I was new in that city, so I had no friends. I wanted to play cricket but I couldn’t ask anyone because of my egoistic nature.

A skinny boy walked toward me straight and asked, ‘Do you want to play with us?’ I nodded my head excitedly and followed him. In the field, I came to know that the skinny boy was the captain. The total members were divided into two teams, and I was part of the skinny boy’s team. There were many elder players in our team, so I couldn’t understand why our captain was a boy of my age?

‘The boy must be a good player,’ I thought in my mind.

Our team had won the toss, and our captain decided to bat first. It was a limited over match with just twelve overs. The captain summoned everyone for discussion in a circle; we gathered under the mango tree to make our strategy for the game.

‘Generally, the captain sends a new player either to bat first or last in a match, and if our captain doesn’t send me in the opening, then I won’t get a chance to bat,’ I thought in mind.

‘What’s your name, new boy?’ our captain asked me.

‘Rakesh,’ I replied, wanting to ask his name but I didn’t ask him because of my introvert nature.

Our captain sent two other boys for the opening. I lost hope but kept praying to God against my own team’s batsmen, in spite of my guilt feeling. It was a lucky day; as one after the other, my prayers and wishes were being answered. The opening pair fell within the first over. We lost three wickets within five overs. After the third wicket, our captain sent me for batting. I was in form that day and had scored fifty in just twenty-four balls. But from the other end, wickets were continuously falling. At the end of the game, we had managed to score ninety-four runs on our board at the loss of seven wickets. Interestingly, our captain didn’t come down to bat.

‘Captain must be a bowler,’ I thought.

‘Don’t lose your heart. I’ll send you to open tomorrow,’ promised our captain to those who didn’t get a chance to bat.

While bowling, he had almost given chance to everyone including one-over bowling to me. At last, we lost that match by two wickets. Boys of our team were a little upset, and they were analyzing the game. According to them, if I’d have got one more over to bat, then we might have scored more runs.

Our captain seemed happy. He was discussing who didn’t get a chance to bowl, though he himself hadn’t bowled one over. I couldn’t understand his captaincy at all; I had seen his fielding also which was just an average; I couldn’t understand why the boy was the captain. Why even the elder teammates obeyed every decision he took? Why every team members as well as the opposite team members respected him so much? Our captain was talking with everyone amiably, congratulating our opposition team players and challenging them for the next day’s match but in a funny manner. He talked with me and asked some questions to me like where I lived, what I was doing in his town etc. I liked the personality of our captain, and I had never seen a man behaving so coolly after losing a match.

‘You played well, today,’ he appreciated while we were returning to our home on bicycle. It was evening. The west sky was turning into a shade of pink. ‘Your batting style is also impressive.’

‘Thanks,’ I replied shortly. There was a silence for few seconds. ‘You’re the captain of our team but why don’t you go for bating or bowling?’

‘I’ve no interest in cricket. I come here just to relax,’ he said softly, glancing at me. ‘I love to make friends, and in the afternoon, everyone is in the cricket field, so am I.’

‘Oh, that’s why you’re so cool after losing a match,’ I said in a criticizing tone.

‘Yes, I’m not serious about cricket,’ he said it casually. ‘Not only is me, no one of our team is serious about cricket, including the opposition team as well, even including you!’

‘I have always dreamt of being a cricketer and play for the Team India and without knowing me how is this guy commenting like this,’ I had him fired inside my mind

‘Do you know why Sachin Tendulkar is a great player?’ he continued and said, ‘He practices every day for ten to twelve hours. Practice makes a man perfect. A cricketer is not made just by some mere play of one or two hours. We have made cricket a game for our time pass and a mere sport for our entertainment. It is important to enjoy the game as that would create the real interest and so I always try to let everyone bat who doesn’t get a chance. Such players get the first priority in the next day’s match when I’m there. If we win after satisfying everyone, then it is great and if we lose then what’s the big deal. We try again the next day. At the end of the day, no one cared about the number of street matches you’ve won or lost. It is satisfaction that matters.’

His words impressed me. ‘What is your name?’ I asked.

‘Vijay,’ the captain replied.

That day I had no idea that I had met the future Prime Minister of India, one of the great leaders of the world, who would change the life and thought of people, who would show the right path to the people and become the greatest architect of our nation.

I took admission in the school where Vijay was studying. During the summer holidays, I became his friend, and after admission, we became best friends. Vijay had a big circle of friends and a girlfriend. Her name was Priya, though Vijay always clarified in front of his friends that his relationship with Priya was just of friendship, but nobody accepted it.

There are some unwritten laws of friendship. First law of friendship: You are treated as a son in your friend’s house. Vijay’s mother, Shanti, was loving and supportive, and like her name she was always cool and calm. She was a housewife. She studied up to class seven but was a PhD holder in love and affection. She loved every friend of Vijay like her own son. Not only she was the judge of ladies in her neighborhood, but would also solve any conflict or familial issue that would arise there. She always told the truth in the matters of justice, whether anybody liked it or not. Mr. Alok, Vijay’s father, was a government servant; an upper class officer in the Department of Agriculture. He was a great follower of Gandhi. He spent almost half of his salary in social work; he opened a charitable education center for poor and orphan kids where education was imparted free of cost.

The street that led to Vijay’s house was beautiful and aligned with trees on both the sides, most of which were planted by his father many years ago. The trees now became a symbol of beauty. Every man dreamed of living in that area with such natural beauty, but no one tried to make their own area beautiful like that. I made frequent visits to Vijay’s house where his parents loved me a lot and treated me as their own son. In a few years, I almost became their second son.

Second law of friendship: Your friend’s friend is also your friend. This unwritten law was creating a bond of friendship between Priya and me. Well, this friendship was very fruitful for me. Priya always came first in class, the topper of our school. Everyone was just praying to sit beside her in exam as she helped everyone a lot during the exam except Vijay as she considered Vijay her competitor.

Vijay and Priya always came to school together; nobody had ever seen them fighting over some issues. But there was a girl in our batch who had never a day without fighting. She was Ishita, the anchor of every cultural program of our school but not so good in studies. I never liked her attitude. For me, God had made a mistake of making a girl instead of boy.

 Unfortunately, Ishita and Priya were best friends. So according to second unwritten law of friendship, Ishita became my friend too. Initially, I took her as a headache, but slowly I got used to it.


As the time passed, Vijay, Priya, Ishita and I became best friends. For us, Vijay was a psycho. He always read lots of books without any reason, and Vijay’s parents supported him a lot. Vijay’s father bought lots of books for Vijay every month. I also loved reading books but wasn’t as crazy as him.

One day, I had gifted an autobiography of Mahatma Gandhi to him. At that time, I had no idea what I was digging for all. Gandhi’s Clean India Vision had a great impact upon Vijay. Being inspired, he stood in front of the entire class and requested the headmaster to clean school and village by a campaign, ‘It’s our duty to keep our street and school clean. We’re the future. We have to teach the people and parents how to clean our street,’ he announced enthusiastically.

To our dismay, the headmaster loved his idea. He ordered us to join in the cleaning campaign. Initially, nobody was happy including Priya, but after cleaning our school, we felt proud of ourselves. While cleaning our streets, our parents also joined us. Within three Sundays, we were able to clean our school, hospital and our street. Vijay and I collected money from public to purchase dustbin. Ishita and Priya donated all their pocket money. We placed dustbin all over the street after every few yard intervals. The boy who didn’t know how to wash his cloth was responsible for cleanness of our street.

It was his first craziness but not the last. Vijay was against the caste system. On his eighteenth birthday, Mr Alok and Shanti received an affidavit from court in which he had changed his name. He had cut off the surname from his name in order to ignore the discrimination on the basis of caste system. His mother was shocked but surprisingly he got his father’s support.

He used to tear his question paper after every exam. He used to watch movies on exam days. He was never serious about marks. He was never worried even though he scored low marks than his expectation. According to him, ‘Life doesn’t end after one exam. Rather life will give many chances if you give a chance to life.’

Lots of time we discussed about various matters. Our discussions included world economy, business ideas, our system, film, cricket and sex. We discussed as if we were the government and the whole responsibility of the world was in our shoulders. Those days neither had social networks nor too many news channels. We solely depended over the newspaper. Vijay, Priya, Ishita and I had a habit of reading newspaper every morning and at the time of dinner. In Vijay’s colony, only his parents were bringing newspaper that was read by almost fifty people over Vijay’s street.

‘Within a month, result will come. I feel very nervous,’ I said one day being worried. ‘If I get low marks then?’

‘Why do you think about marks,’ he said casually. ‘It’s just a small exam. We don’t give the actual exam in an examination hall under the invigilation of the teachers. Rather life takes our true exam and declares the result as well. That result shows how good you are, how many true friends you make in your life, what you contribute to your society, how many people love you. Nobody remembers your marks; they only remember your work.’

‘But mark is also important for our career. It plays a vital role whenever we face an interview,’ I argued.

‘Nobody asks Amitabh Bachchan how much marks he had secured in the exam. Nobody has ever thought about Sachin Tendulkar’s marks when he got selected in the cricket team,’ said Vijay. ‘Leave all these great people. We always love the snacks of Raghunath, but we never asked him about his qualification and marks.’

I had a wide smile on my lips. Vijay was right. We used to visit Raghunath’s shop for his tasty snacks but never bothered to know about his qualifications. ‘Vijay, in case you fail in exam, then, what will you do?’

‘Then, I will reappear in the exam,’ said Vijay with a cold smile. The answer was simple but it had an inner meaning, for those who break down after facing one or two failures.

One day, our teacher questioned everyone about their idols. We all took some great legendary names as our idols. Some answered Sachin Tendulkar; some said Michael Jackson, and for some, it was Bill Gates or Steve jobs, for me, it was J R R Tolkien and Mahatma Gandhi, for Priya, it was Mother Teresa. But Vijay’s answer was different from others as always.

After the question was asked, he took his own time, stood up from his seat and looked little confused. ‘I have lots of idol in my life. First is Raghav, the man who gives newspaper in our house every day, every morning he delivers the newspaper by six o’clock, no matter whatever happens; winter or rain, everything is meaningless for him. He never fails to perform his duty. I want to be dedicated like him. Second is Harbinder, the milkman. Mom always asks me to buy milk from him because he sells pure milk without adding a drop of water; I want to be honest like him. I want people to believe me just like they have belief over Harbinder’s milk. I want to be like Ashis, a common man, who dedicated his whole life for orphan kids without any publicity,’ said Vijay excitedly. His word created a magic spell over the students and the teacher. He further continued, ‘I want to be a man like Salindra, who rushed an injured man, drenched in blood, to the hospital. Even though there were hundreds of people, but only Salindra could dare to take that man to the hospital. I always want to be brave like him.’

 Nobody clapped but Vijay’s words touched everybody’s heart. Even the teacher was impressed by his words. He was always like that. His thought was always different. His vision was unusual. He denied to compromise; he wanted a perfect society. He believed that such a stereotype system must be changed; he believed that one day this world would be changed. He was a kid with a different thought; he was a different kid.


The revenge of Gandhi’s follower- pre order book available now

Hi friends, My new book ‘ The revenge of Gandhi’s follower’ kindle book is available on Amazon. Com and Amazon. In. It will publish on 7th  July 2017.

Is Mark really important?

‘Within a month, result will come. I feel very nervous,’ I said one day being worried. ‘If I get low marks then?’

‘Why do you think about marks,’ he said casually. ‘It’s just a small exam. We don’t give the actual exam in an examination hall under the invigilation of the teachers. Rather life takes our true exam and declares the result as well. That result shows how good you are, how many true friends you make in your life, what you contribute to your society, how many people love you. Nobody remembers your marks; they only remember your work.’

‘But mark is also important for our career. It plays a vital role whenever we face an interview,’ I argued.

‘Nobody asks Amitabh Bachchan how much marks he had secured in the exam. Nobody has ever thought about Sachin Tendulkar’s marks when he got selected in the cricket team,’ said Vijay. ‘Leave all these great people. We always love the snacks of Raghunath, but we never asked him about his qualification and marks.’

This conversation is part of my book ‘The Revenge of Gandhi’s follower’. It will publish on 7.7. 2017.

A paragraph of ‘The revenge of Gandhi’s follower.’

 ‘How many of you want to be a doctor?’ Those, who wanted to be a doctor raised their hands. ‘Why a doctor? After becoming a doctor, what would you do, die or suicide?’ said Vijay, making a fun. There was a snort of laughter among students and faculties. ‘In India, approximately ten lakh doctors are there and if you also become a doctor, then what’s new on that? Are you going to get Bharat Ratna? Those who want to be an Engineer, will they get Nobel Prize after becoming an engineer? Lakhs of engineers are there in this world. What is so extraordinary about it? And those who want to become manager; can you become the world’s richest man? No, never. On the other hand, to be a scientist is good but what you want to invent? Why don’t you mention it? Can you decide what are you dreaming to invent?’ Taking a pause, ‘Future Doctors why don’t you mention what innovation you want to bring in medicine? No one even mentioned any department in which you want to work in future. Future engineers, why don’t you think of making some greater things that is some machines which can change the life style of human beings. Why don’t our future computer engineers think to invent some machines better than computer?’

There was pin drop silence all around the hall.

‘Many of you said that your hobbies are playing crickets, football, make paintings, dancing, singing and so on. But none of you said that you want to become a dancer, actor, painter, cricket player or football player. Why no one said to become a novel prize winner or to get Bharat Ratna? No one among you said to become Prime Minister or President. Why no one said to become a great writer and win the Nobel Prize in literature? We all discuss a lot about the person who gets Nobel Prize or Bharat Ratna. Then why don’t we think about ourselves? Why can’t we dream to win Nobel Prize? Why we have just small dreams for ourselves? To be precise, why we restrict ourselves within an enclosed boundary?’

My book, ‘The revenge of Gandhi’s follower’ will publish soon.

The superman of my life

Father is the man, who sacrifices his dream to give you a better life, the man who can do anything to keep you safe, the man who has been tolerating his heartless boss to gift you something, the man who brings dress for you, the man who gives you pocket money, the man who can give his entire saving for your smile, the man who has never shared his tension with you to keep you happy. The man who may be never hugged you, but you are the world for him.

You always say ‘I love You and I miss you’ to your mom. But have you ever told your dad, ‘I love you’ in your life?

To whom God loves . . .

Mr. Vikash returned to his village after retirement from his job. He tried to organize people to do some social works, a retired association was formed, which had taken up some service like renovation of tank, supply of drinking water in summer, financial help to poor students, writing materials to poor students, distribution of biscuits and food stuff to patients in hospitals and pay some money to poor students to meet their tuition fee etc. 
 Within few days he had made his name and  get a respectable position in eyes of God. But one day he had done a mistake. It was upset God.

  Mr. Vikash had sleep deeply, God appeared beside. ‘Wake up, I want a conversation with you,’ God said angrily with shaking Mr. Vikash. 

Mr. Vikash jumped up, quickly bowed his head with respect.

“I thought before that you are my favourite but you disappoint me, I’m really upset . . .’

  “But how God, I can’t remember what I’ve done wrong,” defended Mr. Vikash.

  “Just tell if I’ll shout outside your house for all day what will you feel, you will irritate over me or not?” said God coldly. ‘You have arranged a worship of mine where people will pronounce my name day and night up to seven days.”

 “But God it’s our love, we ordinary people respect you a lot, so we have arranged this worship.’

  ” You all are my kids, so you are not ordinary?” said God with a soft smile. ‘Just think why have I sent you to this earth? What is your life’s purpose, don’t waste your precious time in my worship, don’t waste money in such stupid things. Instead of that, help people who needs your support. I don’t feel happy when you take my name, I feel happy when people take your name as a good person, I feel happy when your help reach near a needed person, I feel happy when people consider as a hero of their life.”

“God, lots of people do your worship; spend thousands of money on making of your statue, why don’t you never try to stop them.”

  “I don’t like to waste my time with such Idiots, I am the sun, I am the earth, I am the universe, you can’t gift me anything, because everything is mine. But you can do something, do your work, I love you all, but I’ll love you more because of your work, your helping nature, continue it, you can find me with you in every situation.”

  “Thanks Father to open my eyes, I’ll stop all to do your worship, I’ll tell them they unknowingly irritating you.’

 Don’t tell them anything, they’ll never believe you, they are mad, idiot, rascal, I feel shame as consider them as my son, don’t waste your time with them,’  god said and vanished. 

  Mr. Vikash found it was morning, someone called him to organize God’s worship. But Mr. Vikash didn’t go, he was cleaning the road alone, planning about opening a school where poor kids would freely get education.                 


The dream land

‘How could it possible? How could a village with whole population vanish overnight?’ asked Starish to herself.

 It was a village between India and Bangladesh, she had gone to Delhi before three days.  But after coming back she hadn’t even find out any clue about that village.

She hadn’t find out any clue about the village but she found a four way highway, and electric poles which was not before. She was confused more. How can someone made a four way road within two days. She wanted to ask someone to clear her confusion, so she walked toward the border, it was a five kilometers journey.

  The returning journey was amazing, though scary. While returning from Delhi the weather suddenly changed, there was an earthquake in Indian ocean, the center of the earthquake was just few hundred kilometers away, so there was a tsunami and cyclone. So furious that they couldn’t get time to land in Kolkata, to prevent from any accident the pilot flew the plane was up to maximum height, but the worried was not over, that time there was asteroid rain, fire was everywhere, it was too much difficult to fly the plane in a straight line, their connection was cut from the earth, few asteroid damaged the plane badly, and caught the fire, the plane freely fell up to few meters, power system failed, everything became black, no one could see anything up to few minutes, but when the engine stated again everyone found the atmosphere was claimed a little, their was a crash landing, almost everyone enjoyed a little but everyone was alright. 

  That time Starish saw a bus over the road, she stopped the bus, ‘ Can you go up to the Bangladesh border?’ she asked politely.

 The helper looked confused but answered, ‘ No, it’ll go up to Dhaka, but if you want to go to border you have to change your bus from there.’

  ‘ Dhaka? No I want to go up to Bangladesh border?’

  ‘There is no place like Bangladesh,’ this time the helper answered irritatingly. And signaled bus driver to start the bus. It confused Starish, to get the information she searched goggled,  but she couldn’t get Bangladesh from anywhere,  only she found Bengal, the map showed the united Bengal, how it could be possible she had no idea, suddenly her focus was overt the India’s map, which was showing no Pakistan even. She searched the word Pakistan, but didn’t find it also. She understood a little to know about the history she opened the page of Independent of India, she found in 1946 Aug 15 India got the independent from British, the first prime minister was Mahatma Gandhi, and there was two deputy prime-ministers, Jawaharlal Nehur and Muhammad Ali jinnha.  Vallabh Bhai Patel was the home Minister. Gandhi got Nobel prize for the peace in 1947. 

 She thought about her family now, she found her dad phone number between her contact numbers, it was impossible because her father was died at her childhood. She phoned to her dad with trembling hands.

  ‘ My baby, I am missing you too much,’ her dad replied from opposite end. ‘ come soon my boy, I am missing you.’ 

  ‘ Dad, I . . . love you,’ Starish replied in a wet voice and disconnected the phone, tear fell down from her eyes. She now understood that the time line was changed or she was in a parallel universe.

  It must be really difficult to go back to her own time line, but she wasn’t interested to go back, for her this time line was better, where she had her father, where India hadn’t been faced any partition. She searched India’s GDP and found India was the number one country now, won most of the cricket world cup, including 2003 and 1999. She found videos where Sachin Tendulkar and Shoaib Akhtar was part of one team, where Kapil Dev and Imran Khan was playing together lifted 1983 and 1987 world cup proudly. She found India had successfully invented dark matter particles  and researching about how to utilize it for interstellar travels. Now she was really proud to be an Indian . . .

The effect of time line

Rohan had lovable parents, and a beautiful girlfriend but he was not happy, why he had not idea? No one had seen him with a smile form few weeks.
  ‘Why do you always look sad, have I done something wrong?’ Anita asked one day.

  ‘I can’t understand, I feel like. . . I mean . . . I’m missing someone, but to whom, I can’t understand?’ Rohan replied, looking confused. 

  ‘But whom,’ asked Anita surprisingly, taking sometime to think. ‘I can understand, you are missing Sima, after all she was your first love . . .’

  ‘ I am not thinking about Sima,’ he replied annoyingly. ‘The relation between Sima and me was never two sided, so she was never part of my life. I am missing someone, I can’t explain, but I thought Someone is missing from my life.  When I see my old album I can imagine absence of someone, I can hear someone’s joke and laugh but I couldn’t understand whom I am missing,  I have been seen dreams, in those dream I have found someone standing with me in every  situation.’

  ‘ A boy or girl,’ smirked Anita naughty to easy the atmosphere.

   It brought smile on Rohan’s lips, ‘There is no one in your competition,’ he replied, ‘ I see a man in my dream, not any girl.’

  ‘ Man! That’s the big problem,’ again Anita joked. ‘ Do you lost your interest over girl?’ 

  ‘Shut up,’ Rohan snapped, but with a smile.

 ‘ Look, don’t take any dream seriously,’ Anita said calmly. ‘Sometimes it happens, sometimes we see some unknown faces in dreams to whom we have never met in our real life.’

  Rohan looked convinced but not completely, that night he again saw the man in his dream, he heard the man name was Ashis. They were best friends, even he saw Ashis’s parents in that dream. After he woke up he thought about Ashis, he suddenly reminded something, he had a best friend in class three, his name was Ashis, his home was just few meters away from Ashis’s home, both went to school together, but he couldn’t remember why they weren’t friend anymore. At that morning he went straightly near Ashish’s parents. 

  ‘ Where is Ashis?’ He asked them desperately.

  Ashis’s parents looked shocked, ‘Who are you, Rohan?’ Ashis’s father asked, looking surprise. Suddenly Rohan heard sobbing of Ashis’s mother. ‘Don’t you know that Ashis diad at a road accident?  when you both were going to school, you both hit by a truck that day, you survived but my Ashis couldn’t. . .’

  Tear fell down from Ashis’s father’s eyes.  

  ‘ How could he forget all this,’ Rohan asked to himself angrily, he tried to remind the incident but he couldn’t remember anything at all. He found something was awkward, If Ashis had died at childhood how could he feel that Ashis was always present with him. And how could he forget if any accident had happened with him. 

He tried to focus, that night he again saw a dream, He saw Ashis and him were going to school, suddenly something appeared in front of them from nowhere, he had never seen a machine like that, before they could understand anything the machine ran toward them with a great speed and hit them. He was badly wounded but still he had some scenes.

  ‘The future will be changed automatically, I killed Dr Ashis,’ the machine said to someone. ‘ Dr Rohan is still alive, and I am going to kill him too.’

  ‘ No! D . . . don’t kill him, I am his descendent, if you kill him then I’ll never born,’ a shadow figure warned. ‘But you have to modified his memory.’

  A light flashed, Rohan couldn’t see anything more,  he woke up from his dream. 

‘There must be someone changed the time by the time machine,’ he thought, ‘ If I’ll never born a baby then that man who was responsible for death of Ashis would never born,’ he took the decision and sleep.

  ‘ Rohan, get up quickly, we have to go,’ Anita is waiting for us,’ Someone said, Rohan opened his eyes, he found Ashis stood in front of him . He smiled. 

  ‘ Just give me five minutes,’Rohan  told with a smile, yawning slightly. ‘ you have to purpose Anita today if you really want to get her love, you will never get such a beautiful chance in future.’ 

  ‘ I am little nervous,’ Ashis said nervously. ‘ Will she accept my love?’

  ‘ Why not? You are the handsome most man of our college,’ said Ashis encouragingly. ‘ She will definitely accept your love.’

The time was changed now, Anita became Ashis’s girlfriend, Rohan was never married, even he had no knowledge that Anita would be his girlfriend if Ashis was not there . For him the time was never changed . . .