Sunday the 23rd December 2012 was a very special day for me. A get together was organized by my readers, the venue being Press Club of India of which I to happen to be a member since 1971. I was given to understand that there’d be a gathering of 35-40 people and some of them will specially be coming for the occasion from Dehradun, Muzaffarnagar, Khamgaon, Meerut, Nagore, and even from Mumbai. One Mr. Sudhir Barak came from Rohtak where he only happened to be to attend a marriage but who actually lives in Australia.
The event was organized in the open lawns of PCI notwithstanding the fact the weather was extremely cold that day, but was still better than the biting cold on road outside as there was some heating arrangement in the lawns. When I arrived at the venue, I was surprised to note that braving the weather all the participants were present outside in the parking to receive me. And received I was – with great fanfare and enthusiasm and was escorted in like a VVIP which I’m not and will never be. Inside, I was garlanded with an expensive looking rose garland and was offered an equally luxurious bouquet. It was an overwhelming moment for me. Never in my life did I wear a garland, not even on occasions of marriage where the exchange of garlands is traditionally conducted among hosts and guests, not even on the occasion of my retirement from my government job of 34 years standing as I refused to accept a farewell for the very reason that I hated wearing a garland on all occasions. But that day, my aversion had no role to play as there was so much love and affection oozing from that ritual that I clear forgot my likes and dislikes in that matter. I was on cloud seven and for the first time in my life felt proud of being an author of a popular genre referred to as ‘pulp fiction’. And to top it all, I was honored with a very expensive gift which due to its huge cost, I refused to accept. But my refusal, my vehement protest was not heard and I had to accept as it had significance as the memento of the occasion.
The only regret of the day is that I could not stay till the end of the get together which I later came to know, extended up to six in the evening. A dear friend of my childhood and school days and also my chartered accountant had expired, and I had to go sit in his Kriya ceremony at 4.00 PM. So, much as I wanted to stay, I had to leave at 3.00 PM.

All things said and done, it was a memorable day of my life which I’ll never be able to forget till the end of my mortal existence. I wish there were more such occasions in the past, however, better late than never. By way of this blog, I again thank all my fans and admirers who contributed to the occasion and honored me beyond my expectations. I’m particularly thankful to Sharad Shrivastava and Vishi who organized the event with unmatched zeal and enthusiasm.

Ehsaan mere dil pe tumhara hai dosto,
  Ye dil tumhare pyaar ka maara hai dosto.