ection>
Once Upon A Coin
(Travelogues of a coin)
Aditi Varun Bhardwaj
Copyright 2012 Aditi Bhardwaj,
All rights reserved.
Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com
ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-1294-8
Published by:
Power Publishers,
Swabhumi Residency,
P-12 Motijheel Avenue,
Block 2, 1st floor,
Kolkata 700074
Cover Design: Showvhick Nath
First Published: November 2012
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the publisher and author. The views expressed in this book are those of the author. The publisher is not in any way responsible for the views expressed in this book. All legal actions are subject to the jurisdictions of courts of Kolkata, India.
Thanks,
Varun Bhardwaj, my life partner, for enlightening me and guiding me. It is your love, support and brilliance that have made our dream-come-true.
To us and our dreams-
‘Once Upon A Coin’ is our first baby.
The product of our love, dreams, hopes and prayers!
XOXO
‘Once Upon a Coin’ the story as it goes,
Crossing many life making friends and foes.
Life came surprising walking silently on toes,
Embracing happiness, braving the woes.
For My Parents
Mrs. Shashi Joshi & Mr. Bishan Datt Joshi
Introduction
Once Upon A Coin is all about life, its variations and spontaneity. It begins with the dramatic birth of the coin and leads to its journey into life of many people.
Like every one of us, a coin emotes its feelings ever since it is born and crosses over the life of different people – it could have been me or you or someone we all know and people who are unknown.
It is fascinating for me to realize, how life through a coins eye could be. How the coin feels elated when it feels its contribution in someone’s life and feels dejected the same moment when it realizes that no one is realizing its value and importance? We all feel the same way many times, isn’t it?
The coin experiences joys of sharing and buying someone happiness, it suffers from self guilt when it is misused and causes pain to someone, it feels the pressure to perform and deliver its true potential. It is bubbling and innocent, it is weary and tired, it feels the competition, and it suffers from falling face value and dullness that encompasses it over years.
It exchanges hands and travels across distances; it is a travelogue full of life and feelings.
You may many a times feel like travelling with the coin on speeding trains and rickety buses, you may even smell of the stinking lanes and alcohol, like it does. You may feel the hot air and cold winters on your face as the coin strides its journey across the seasons.
Prologue
To the generation of – One Rupee
Whenever I meet my old friends from college and school, we always end up admiring the age we had lived – the generation of one rupee.
Sitting in swanky cool coffee shops and sipping expensive lattes and milk shakes we always talk about the days when we shared a cup of tea for a mere one rupee.
Silly reminiscent of days of flavoured ice candies, spicy digestive powders and tangy tamarind sauce sold outside school gates always brought smiles that we never had despite earning in thousands and spending in hundreds.
We are always nostalgic about that ‘One Rupee’. A friend of mine was narrating his experience of buying his new born-gifts and toys worth a fortune and remembering his childhood days spent happily stained with mud from the community garden and some paper kites, marbles and a wooden top all bought within a rupee.
Those joys were different; those memories have stayed back with us. There has to be a reason why.
May be the web of your life connects you with the journey of a coin – that was born like you, that grew up like you, that in all humility stole pages from your life and made it its life story.
For all the people who remember the One Rupee coin and its role in their life!
Happy Reading!
CHAPTER - 1
Coin of Destiny
My Birth: Destiny’s Child – Survival of the Imperfect!
It was a rainy day, and the clouds were in full roar. Lightning danced vehemently through the charcoal sky, leaving trails of silver and smoking the sky with glistening red coals. Outside the foundry gates, water raged like the waves of a stormy sea and as it shook the gates - the mighty ferrous guards trembled like a fawn caught in a chase by a hungry tigress.
Water shoved like a rain water spring from the overhead projector light lamp. With the water drowning almost all the visible things in the guard’s room of the foundry, it seemed that the nature had unleashed its wildest fury.
Radios and televisions flocked stories of a possible flood threat, and advised people to be cautious of the raging clouds and fuming water clogs.
At this weathered hour I was delivered out of the womb, sealed with proud, engraved with strength, moulded with passion out of the 12 hour labour. Here I sprang out in the storming rainy night, with as many as 10,000 siblings.
We were all the same, shinning, solid, new, breathing our existence, inside the secure and warm hug of the RBI foundry walls - protected
