The boy who cannot return

                        THE BOY WHO CANNOT RETURN

Today morning I received the invitation.

It was beautiful. In the background of roses and jasmines, it contained an invitation to the ex-students of class VII of the Infant Jesus High school, Bangalore.

It depicted the photographs of 28 young boys and girls brimming with innocence and happiness.

The photographed encircled in the borders of the invitation. The Head Master and the faculty who

Has never seen us have taken pains to collect the addresses of the students of the 1990 batch and

Invited us for a get together assuring us that they all will join us in the fun of reliving those happy days of our childhood.

I went through the photographs and a broad smile spread over my face when I could recognise most of them.

Karthik whose hair never budged to the commands of the comb!

Sravankumar whose dentures could never be shut by his lips!

Arunkumar whose eyes were always covered by the blonde locks of his forehead hair!

Maanasi Gupta who used to

 weep for any small threat by anybody!

Manjunaatha sastri who is a target of everybody with a long tuft!

Mohammed Abubacker whose stammering is a source of great fun and which every boy enjoyed mimicking!

And so on.

I almost forgot the present day and was immersed in the pleasure of recollecting the small and big events of those days.

English language calls it Nostalgia.

Nostalgia is a sentimental feeling for something occurred in the past.

I thought that my feeling is different because so far rarely I remembered the past days and only this invitation caused me to remember all about my childhood.

As in medical terms Anaesthesia is for brief durations, may be my nostalgia is also for short duration.

Anyhow, today after seeing this invitation I found fresh blood flushing through my veins and my heart started craving to meet all those old friends and share pleasantries and mirth with them.

I mailed my consent to attend the function on the scheduled day.

                                     ------

Geetha was busy in preparing Rohan and Jyothi to school.

“These two monkeys are replicas of your patented behaviour! Every day I have to toil for hours to make them get into the school bus. You never care to admonish them and you always smile at their naughty endeavours.” Geetha told me while Rohan was running away from her.

“Geetha! This is not the age to control them and admonish them. Probably after two years when they will be able to understand what we say, you will succeed in your army drills!” I patted her shoulder soothingly.

Suddenly she saw the invitation on the table. She read the contents and said “Oh dear! This is from your school for a get together of your childhood friends! Will you go there on that day?”

“Yes, by all means! From yesterday onwards my mind is full of memories of my childhood. I think it will be great fun provided all my classmates turn up. I am really happy that the present Head master has taken the initiative to arrange for such a get together. Will you join with me with our children?”

“it is a good idea! But I think that our presence may hinder the joy of getting together with your friends of childhood because you all will be travelling back to the period of your childhood. Hence let us have a lunch on some other day at our home with some of your selected friends!”

I was very happy with her idea and could not resist hugging her warmly.

The ringing sound of my telephone disturbed my romantic mood.

I attended it with reluctance.

“Hello! This is Sam. I want to meet you immediately. Can you drop-in at New woodlands at 3 p.m.

Today? Seat Nos..34 and 35 Hall 1 “

He abruptly disconnected the phone.

“Who is that?” asked Geetha.

“A friend. Okay Geetha! Today I will go out at one p.m. and I’ll be back around 7. I have to meet a friend”.

Geetha did not reply. I was in deep thoughts and suddenly felt that I am all alone.

Anyhow, I have to go. No other go.

                                        -------

Evening 3 p.m.

I stepped into Hotel woodlands and looked around.

Even though it was a holiday and the area are a busy area, there was not much crowd in the hotel.

Only a few pairs sat in a few seats. The music system was also silent. I saw Sam sitting in the left-hand corner at the end of the row and walked towards him.

He was wearing thick black goggles, and looked minacious in a red safari.

I sat opposite to him.

“Welcome Agent 32!” Sam shook my hands.

“Sam! Is this place safe to talk?” I asked.

“Absolutely! There are no CCTV cameras. I have already checked for presence of plain clothed cops of

Indian Intelligence. We are safe. I have switched off my cell phone and hope that you too have done that”.

“Yes!” I handed my cell phone over to him.

“Well! For the past one month there was no communication from you. I am daily checking my mail

And for the past one month you have not reported any information in our coded language regarding the technology employed in the latest missile Arjun. You know Russia never rests without knowing the technological secrets of any country. Your access as the close friend of Top three technocrats of

This mission is an advantage for you. Why there is no communication?”

I sighed heavily.

“It is because of one new security guard there! He is over zealous and somehow got suspicious about me. Hence to create confidence on me I have stopped going to the vicinity of the missile area and just end my trips with just friendly chats with all there including that security guard. It will take another six months to find out the secrets.”

“Yes! I understand. I also know that a new security guard has joined and he tries to impress his bosses. I trust you. However, please remember that you are just a bullet away from death and

If ordered I never hesitate to send the bullet to you from my gun”

He shook my hands and finishing his tea, walked out steadily.

I was sitting looking at the door for a long time.

We always think that we are good. Very good.

But circumstances only decide whether we are as good as we think about ourselves.

Nearly a decade ago as I was socialising with the elite top brass of various walks of life, as a reporter,

I was approached by the representatives of KGB of Russia and just for the sake of and fun and thrill,

I became a spy. True to my character, I till today remain a successful spy sharing secrets of Indian 

Defence to KGB.

The money, the comforts and the valuable assets I get are unimaginable and untraceable too because they are all deposited in secret accounts and in names only known to me.

This life is thrilling and troublesome both at a time.

My life may come to an end at any time by getting shot by Indian Intelligence personnel or by personnel of KGB.

In case of spies, if a country knows about the existence of a spy, the country will not make it public.

It will not take up the matter with the country that engaged the spy. It will eliminate the spy and that is the message to the country that is spying. The message is simple. Your espionage traced by us and thwarted by us. End of the game.

Similarly, If the spying country countries comes to know that the spy is under trap of the country where he is spying, their priority is to ensure that the spy is not caught by that country. Hence even without alerting the spy, it will shoot him to death.

I know that one day or other I have to meet one of these consequences.

At 7 p.m. I reached my home.

I played with my children. Talked sweet nothings with Geetha. Watched cricket match.

At around 10 p.m. went to bed.

For the past one decade, the training I received and the will power of mine I could behave normally with everybody without giving an iota of doubt to anybody in my vicinity.

Suddenly, at around midnight, I woke up.

I got up and went to the table.

The invitation from my school was lying on the table.

I took it in my hands and read it all over once again.

Yes! It is a get together with all my friends! 

Every one will tell everybody about his true life. About their real life, real struggle, real successes and real emotions.

But I cannot.

I have to tell lies or half-truths.

Suddenly I remembered that in this life, one has to be true to at least one person. Otherwise he ultimately gets defeated by his own conscience.

They will meet. They will talk. They will all be happy.

I have decided. I tore the invitation into pieces and threw into the dustbin.

Yes. All my friends will meet. 

But they will not meet a boy, the boy they loved much, the boy who was adored by them because they do not know that the said boy cannot return.

That boy cannot return at all because he is searching for the lost values.