Sam was cursing his stars for coming down to India’s business capital city of Mumbai; so called epitome of ever growing companies and a global village. 

He really didn’t had any memories of so called Mumbai, as his parents migrated way back to an alien city in USA. He hardly visited India due to scarcity of holidays in father’s account or mother’s constant nagging of narrow minded in laws. In his father’s pink slip duration, he had heard about Mumbai, his father’s native place and had some livid sketches in his mind. Mangesh Bhalerao, his father always took pride in being from Mumbai; a progressive and global industry hub offering amalgamation of all cultures, providing food and shelter to all without discrimination. But either Sam’s dad got suddenly busy in his projects or Sam was way lost in his thoughts; they stopped talking about Mumbai. Once Sam did tried to ask him about the city, matter was shirked away in no time; something must be wrong, but he dare didn’t ask him. 

It’s been 10 years; his parents met with an accident and left him alone to fend for himself in this cruel city. He did odd jobs with everybody for completing his study; including a Pakistani, Bangladeshi and fellow Indians from other unheard parts of India. He never had time for religious activities, never went to a temple but people referred him as a Hindu. When he topped his University, awarded a gold medal; he first thanked his Part-time employer, a Bangladeshi. When he called all the names from all different parts, he wanted to thank; people rose on their feet and clapped for him, he became famous overnight for being a global citizen holding no bars.  

Sam got a job with McDermott Inc. and after a successful stint in UK, South Africa and Nigeria; requested to be posted in India. Request for Indian posting was result of reading a famous book for managers “A monk who sold his Ferrari” and attending so called Indian Yoga. However, he also wanted to taste spicy Indian curries, as described by famous food critic, Himanshu Manroa.

Sam was sure his father’s stories about cosmopolitan culture of  Mumbai, may also help him in earning more money for him and the company and he will be able to buy his sea facing flat on all cash basis in NY. 

He got down at Mumbai airport but surprisingly the language written everywhere was alien to him. He remembered his father’s words, everybody knows English and it’s never a problem; Sam knew English, Spanish and a bit of Hindi. He tried stopping some people and talking to them for directions or taxi but nobody paid a heed to him.

Before coming down to India, he had a lengthy discussion on the strategies with Pooja, MD, India, McDermott. She did mention something deadly as ‘Bandh’, where every industry gets down on their knees and do no work. Sam also remembered Mauna Varta (people following it, don’t utter a single word). However it was beyond his capabilities to understand, what’s happening around him and why the heck, nobody cared a dim for him. 

Suddenly some people came armed with bamboos and sticks and thrashed him badly. They were speaking a language alien to him but their intensity showed, they were not saying kind words. Fortunately somebody called an ambulance,when he could open his eyes; it was paining like hell, he was in hospital and the date was 28^th September. In other words, he had already spent around 7 days in hospital; now he was worried. 

He tried talking to doc and nurse; still nobody cared a dim. He tried finding logic, may be overnight some disease spread and all Indians are deaf; he shouted vigirously “Aaaaaa hhhhhh” and to his surprise, everybody out there, kept hand on their ears. Sam’s mouth was now wrapped with a tape but he was happy and hopeful; Indians can hear, so somebody will hear him. 

At last his company officials in India were able to locate him in the hospital but surprisingly they didn’t talk to him. He tried talking to them, even threatened them with suspension and dire consequences but to no avail. He was suspicious, are they people from his company but logo did portray their affiliation; and thankfully it did match mine. 

He was discharged from the hospital and taken to his office, 4 floors below the ground. Here suddenly he could hear some heavenly words, “hello! Sumatra, how are you?”

He was taken aback, everybody tried speaking with him and he could understand; they were pleading their cases and asking for forgiveness for my sufferings. He was confused, how things changes so soon; he thanked the elephant face god, it was heavenly.

“Drastic Changes have taken place in using any other language anywhere, now other Indian languages can be used 2 floors below the ground and non- Indian languages needs to go beyond 3^rd floor”, taking a sip of coffee, Pooja made me understand. 

She also explained me few draconian laws

1. If any person found speaking any other language, people are free to kick him anywhere anytime and there is no law to save him. People saving him / her will be branded anti national.
2. Corporate companies who have English speaking staff, pay additional 70% tax.

He took early morning flight back to his hometown, NY with his mouth shut close.

Sam was at comfort with everyone; he could relate to his father’s last words, you are a resident of NY and this is your country.

“A dead man walking out from his funeral procession” this sensational news was getting wide media coverage.

The dead man stood in a queue, took a bus to Dadar and waited outside the lift of Sai Pride Apartments. It was funny to see people scared and running away from him. He was on TV, Radio and virtually everywhere, riding on people’s mind and topic of discussion in all talks.

He took lift, reached 8^th floor, opened lock and rested on Bed.  He can see 27 years of his age passing by just like a typical Karan Johor film. It had everything happiness, sorrow, obstacles and a happy ending.

“Stand in a Queue” instructed Mr. Bose and kids as always obliged by forming a straight line. Mr. Bose was very enigmatic and energetic athletics teacher, he taught students a way to healthy life. He was in class 5^th; empty stomach wasn’t helping him in physical exercises either. It’s not that he didn’t bring breakfast or lunch, he did but other children bullied him and always ate his homemade food.

Mr. Bose told them passionately “If there is no passion in your life, then have you really lived? Find your passion, whatever it may be. Become it, and let it become you and you will find great things happen FOR you, TO you and BECAUSE of you.”

A big frame duffer looking guy was constantly kicking him on his back; he could instantly connect with his athletics teacher’s saying and found a passion. He was a lean frame guy, he knew he won’t be able to kick big frame guy ever; but standing in a queue can be avoided. He has his own passion now “AVOID QUEUE”. Now, he hated standing in a line, forming a queue. This hatred also came from his being last one of triplets to touch the earth; at that time it was suffocating, he wanted to come out first but other two bullied him in.

Some of his friends told him “Master Ji never stands in a queue so once you get older, you can do things your way; no queue”

It brought him immense pleasure; he was closure to his passion and hopeful of getting rid of long serpentine queuing exercise.

He was getting older and life taught him, older he gets, more lines he has to fall in. Only difference was the motives behind the queue; previously it was to get in the school, now is to get in the bus to go to work. Wherever he goes, he could saw people forming a queue. He took a pledge; tomorrow no queue whatsoever.

Now the day of decision; he left from home, took staircase to avoid the lift queue and smile score was one. Now, he has to avoid the queue at bus stop; he tried taking auto or cab but road was full of vehicles queued up. He couldn’t walk to work as it was nearly 10 kms away; but he wasn’t the one, who goes down without putting up a fight. He removed all his cloths, removed a gutter cap and entered into it. He walked towards office but it was dark and smelly and after a while some strange smells forced him to come out of another open gutter; he was unconscious in no time and he died instantly besides the road.

A Gentleman standing in a nearby hair cut queue took him to hospital; he was declared dead on arrival. For getting their medical dues cleared, pretty nurse called up his family and gave them the bad news.

He could clearly remember being with Yamdoots and standing in a queue for people, who died unnaturally, outside the Heaven door. The air was so polluted, it smelled horrible. Road was full of potholes; which humans refer as black hole (Ozone layer depletion). I called God; he told me there is waiting period of 365 days for heaven so they have a special offer, whoever wants to go back shall be allowed. There was one condition; your corpse has to be there on earth in one piece.  I still remembered; I hated queue. I relented out of the queue; came down after forming a small queue. Fortunately there was long queue at Funeral House so I could find my corpse intact with my near and dear ones worried. My friendly Yamdoot taught me to be alive again and I walked out of my funeral procession.

If I have to join a queue even in heaven then why not to enjoy the life at earth and go to heaven without waiting period.