Like it happened yesterday pdf in english

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Like It Happened Yesterday - Singh Ravinder - Free download as PDF File .pdf), Text File .txt) or read online for free. test. Read Like It Happened Yesterday PDF. Ravinder Singh - Like It Happened Yesterday Language. English. To ask other readers questions about Like It Happened Yesterday, please sign up. Popular Answered .. Purchased the ebook in But had a chance to.

But I Love end, it is motivating and refreshing. The bicycle would keep moving. Influenced by Minecraft, Dwarf Fortress and Dungeon Keeper, it offers a unique and enjoyable building and playing experience. Dad was there right on time to pick me up, and, as my classmates watched with envy, I quickly put my schoolbag on my shoulders and ran to Dad. It was my first day in school. I wondered how come all their parents had ended up choosing the same clothes as my parents had chosen for me. I cried despite my leaky nose, and I cried till my throat became hoarse.

Besides, I am furious at Veeru, who hasnt yet come back with the ammunition. Veeru kyun nahi aa raha? I shout and leap up, wondering why Veeru hasnt showed up. Just then, from behind the rock, Jai jumps out into the open to pick up an abandoned revolver. Oh no, Jai! I shout and inch closer to the TV set. His body rolls in the dust. A few more rounds of fire are heard.

I am worried about Jai. I pray to God for his safety. He picks up that revolver and walks straight to the bridge. The bandits are advancing from the other side.

Oh God! I say and grab my forehead in my hands. Jai takes an aim at the bomb with his revolver in the left hand. Right then, I see a spot of blood oozing out of his body. Goli lag gayi Jai ko! I screamJai has been shot. An injured Jai shoots at the bomb.

It explodes, and the bridge collapses. A few bandits are killed, while the rest of them run away. The blood-soaked Jai is lying on the ground. Veeru arrives on his horse and calls out Jais name. My heart sinks to see Jai lying like that in Veerus lap. He says that he wont be able to tell their stories to Veerus children. That confirms he is not going to survive. I am about to break down. I still pray to God that my fear should not come true. Jai continues to mutter Veerus name before he finally takes his last breath.

He dies. My hero dies. My Jai dies. The sad tune of the harmonica that Jai used to play follows his death. And I start crying. Tears roll down my eyes. I grieve for the loss of Jai. I finish watching the rest of the movie in a state of deep. If the Thakur wouldnt have finished Gabbar off, I had pledged to find that beast and avenge Jais death by killing him myself.

I spend a sad day thinking about Jai. Occasionally, I cry. Later in the evening, when my father is watching the news in the prime-time bulletin, I spot Jai in one of the news items. I cant believe my eyes. I shout, Jai is alive? Dad looks at me and asks, Why?

What happened to him? And his name is Amitabh Bachchan! No, he is Jai! He died this afternoon, I say, my eyes still focused on the man on the screen. There are a lot of people around him. He is signing something for them and smiling.

He watched Sholay today and the characters death in the movie has made him sad, Mom updates Dad. He bursts into laughter. Dad then explains to me that movies and serials are just fiction. News is for real. I listen to him very carefully. Just before going to bed, I go to Dad. He is in his bed and fast asleep. But this cant wait.

I wake him up from his sleep and ask, Daddy, youre sure Jai is alive, na? If there was anything that I was afraid of as a child, it was the hospital in our town. The hospital building was the biggest structure of brick and concrete in Burlaa light pink colour, and surrounded by tall green deodars and gulmohar trees, with seasonal orange flowers in them.

A never-ending row of bicycles and motorcycles would make a serpentine line in the shade of the trees.

Every time I crossed that building, I used to feel a chill run down my spine. From the outside, everything was just so quiet and normal.

But only the people who would have walked into it would know about what happened inside. I had walked into it a couple of times. I was made to do so, against my will, by my father. So I knew what went on inside. My brother and I had not been given our inoculations at birth or in the few months afterwards, as was the usual practice.

Our tragedy was that by the time our parents realized the importance of those injections, we were old enough to understand that injections hurt. Therefore, we used to run away from them. But they were necessary.

So Dad, very cunningly, never told us when he was taking us to the hospital. He would make the two of us sit on his bicycle and tell us that we were going out for a nice ride. Tinku, as usual, would occupy the front bar while I would sit on the carrier, holding on to the front seat, on which Dad would be sitting. Only when he would miss the right turn towards the Pakka Market and continue to go straight, where the road led to nothing but the hospital, we would be clear of his ill intentions.

And then suddenly my brother and I would start squirming on our seats, knowing what was coming our way. Daddy, assi kitthey jaa rahe hain? It was quite common for our father to not provide an answer to that one. So I would tell my brother, Tinku, Daddy saanu injection lagvaan lae ke jaa rahe hai.

So I would tell him, Daddy ne jhutt boleya si. The bicycle would keep moving. The two of us would keep talking. I always wanted to hold my brothers hand then. He too would want to see me. But the two of us used to be separated by our father. Right at the registration counter, our fear would take a mammoth shape. The clerk at the registration desk knew our father very well. He would smile and fill in half the details on his own.

Our father would take two slips, one for each of us, and we would walk with him, holding his hands on. As we walked up the staircase, I would realize how close we were to the terrible process. The peculiar smell of disinfectant would fill my nostrils and virtually choke me.

The dark galleries of the hospitals outdoor wards would terrorize me. The sight of the green curtains, the nurses in white and the number of sick people around would make me also feel sick. The whole atmosphere in that government hospital was that of a horror story.

That horror multiplied by several times the moment we would reach our ward. As usual, there would be a vampire-like nurse whose business it was to draw blood from peoples fingers or arms, besides injecting poor little kids like us.

We knew her well. She was acquainted with us too. We were a challenge for her. Many times, we had created a scene in front of her and the rest of the hospital, crying, screaming and running out without our pants! Knowing our desperation to escape, Dad never forgot to lure us with items of our interest. Most of the times, he would tempt us by saying that he was going to treat us to Frootia popular mango drink if only we agreed to take the shots.

We were madly in love with that three-rupee drink, which came packaged in a square green Tetra Pak. The front of the packet had an image of two ripe, yellow mangoes, with droplets of chilled water sliding down them. Dad knew very well how much we loved this particular drink.

Insane as it might sound, our deep love for Frooti overcame our fear of the injections, and our father knew how to use that. We would willingly lie down on our stomachs on the medical bed, baring our bottoms for the injections. In our minds, we would see the shopkeeper taking the chilled packets of Frooti out of his freezer, just for us.

In the meantime, the nurse would take out the needle from the boiling water over the electric heater. Our dreams would progress, and we would now be holding our coveted drink in our hands. The nurse was constantly in the process of preparing the injection, pushing in the nozzle to flush the air out of the syringe. And, as we imagined piercing the tiny round foil at the upper corner of the Tetra Pak with our pointed straws, the nurse would pierce our behinds with that injection.

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The reality of that moment, for the next few seconds, would break our reverie and leave us in great pain. But, we knew, the key for us was to keep holding on to our thoughts, to relish them enough to be able to overlook reality.

Soon it would all be over, yet we continued to lie there, exactly in the same posture, happily imagining sipping our Frootis, smiling! Two brothers, lying half-naked on their stomach, with their eyes glued to a daydream and smiles pasted on their faces! And thats when the nurse would shout, Utth jaao. Ho gaya! Its done!

Our experience of drinking Frooti would not just end there at the shop. It was a ritual for us to bring that empty Tetra Pak back home with us. We would blow as much air as possible into it with the straw, place the inflated packet on the ground and ask everyone around us to watch as we jumped over our packets.

It would burst like a cracker. That would mark the completion of our Frooti adventure! If, by any chance, the packet didnt burst at the first go, we would not shy away from picking it up and going on and on, until it finally gave way. One day, Dad took me for a visit to the hospital again.

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He told me that my injection course had been completed, and so I could relax. But how could I relaxwhen I was being taken into that same building?

I was only convinced when he took a different staircase this time, leading to a different wing. I had never been to this part of the hospital earlier. Yet, I was sceptical. After all, injections werent the only thing I hated, it was the entire hospital. Dad took me straight to the dental outdoor ward. There was already a long queue there. Dad handed over the ticket to the compounder, who placed it underneath the stack of tickets on the doctors table.

He then placed a paperweight over the pile, and went back to relax on the stool by the door. I wondered why we were there. I looked at the people around me. They all had their mouths closed, so I could not get to know what sort of dental problems they had.

Which made me wonderWhat sort of a problem did I have? Everything was fine with me. I had neither complained of any toothache, nor did I have foul breath. So I asked my father, Daddy, you have a problem with your teeth?

Tuhadde dand kharaab hain? He laughed and shook his head, Nahi, nahi! Taa fer assi aithe kyun aaye, haan? I asked, wondering why we were there, in that case. My father sat me down and told me the reason why we were in the dental ward. My front two milk teeth had fallen a few months back. The gap should ideally have been filled up by a pair of brand new, permanent teeth. My family kept expecting this act of nature to happen by itself. But nature had been probably too busy with other things, and forgotten me.

So we needed a doctor, who could become natures proxy for me. About half an hour later the doctor called my name: Ravinder Singh! My father flung into action. He asked me to quickly put back on the rubber slippers that had fallen off my hanging feet.

Together, we rushed inside the room. The room was bright with sunrays, which flooded into it from a spacious window behind the dentist. There was a person sitting next to the dentist, with a black bag on his lap.

Once in a while, he pulled out a medicine from it and kept talking about it to the dentist. Dad told me that this man was a medical representative. I dont know what exactly he wanted, but the dentist did not seem even a bit interested in his talk.

The only time the dentist looked at him was when he placed a nice-looking pen set, a diary and a calendar on his table. Looking at them, the dentist asked, The same things again? The medical representative slipped his hand inside his bag again and brought out a plastic torch, which he placed on the table with a huge smile. Soon after this, he left. I wondered why hed spent so.

I looked around. The walls around me had neatly labelled diagrams of jaws and teeth. The words incisor, canine, molar and pre-molar in one of the pictures appeared familiar to me.

I had read about them in my science class. I wanted to show my father my brilliance. So I tugged at his hand, wanting to tell him that we should tell the dentist that my incisors had failed to develop. But he ignored me and continued to explain the problem himself. I continued to look at the decorated walls. There was a poster of a beautiful lady with glittering white teeth. She had a tube of white-and-red striped toothpaste in her hand.

She had a beautiful smile. Now, finally, the dentist looked at me, and asked me to open my mouth. I smiled, imitating the smile of the lady in the poster. The dentist, unimpressed, asked me to look towards him and not towards the poster. Dont smile, Ravinder, open your mouth. Like thisaaaaaaaa! He looked funny. Id guessed the smile was a nice way to reveal my teeth, including the absent ones. However, this time I opened my mouth as wide as possible and sang, Aaaaaaaaa!

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I made my tongue dance to the sound. As I held my mouth wide open for the longest time, my eyes seemed to shrink and my cheeks were stretched. I had invested a lot of energy in sustaining that show. Everyone around me was looking at me. Okay, okay, this is enough, the dentist finally said.

I closed my mouth and turned my attention back to the smiling lady with the toothpaste. The dentist explained a few things to my father, which I completely ignored. He prescribed some medicine for me and asked us to visit him again after two days. The last thing I heard him saying was that the procedure would take an hour when we visited next, so I would have to miss a period or two at school. I checked with Dad if he was going to do anything to me, and whether it was going to be painful.

Dad shook his headall I had to do was to take the medicines and come and show the doctor my teeth, the way Id done today. I realized that after two days I could legitimately bunk school! For the next two days, each meal I ate was followed by a medicine. On Day Three, I looked at myself in the mirror while brushing my teeth to see if, by any chance, the medicines had worked and I had new teeth.

The inside of my mouth appeared, more or less, just as it had two days back. Paagal dentist, I told myself in the mirror. At school, I proudly told all my friends that I would be there for only half the day. I was going to bunk the second half! Dad was there right on time to pick me up, and, as my classmates watched with envy, I quickly put my schoolbag on my shoulders and ran to Dad.

It all started exactly the way it had started the other day. We first got a slip made, took the other staircase and walked through the other wing and arrived at the outdoor dental ward, where a lot of people were waiting in the queue.

I peeped inside the dentists room to see if the lady with that glittering smile was still there on the wall. Yep, she was right there! Shall we start, then? Dad nodded, without looking at me. The dentist called for a nurse and asked me to follow her. I looked at Dads face. His silence rang a warning bell in my head. Though I followed the nurse, there were a lot of thoughts in my mind. She led me to a vacant cabin on the extreme right of the dental ward. In no time, I found myself sitting on a long reclining chair.

The nurse referred to it as the dentists chair, and adjusted it for me. She pulled a lever, it leant back. She pulled another one, and I was above the ground. I asked her what was on her mind.

She didnt say a single extra word.

Meanwhile, the dentist appeared. As he came closer to me, I watched him slip his hands into a pair of gloves. He then strapped on a mask. Watching that made me sure that something terrible was in store for me. I was trapped in that elevated reclining chair. I asked the dentist what was going to happen. We are going to bring your teeth out of your gums, he replied. I asked.

And, when no one answered, I asked again, How? We will have to make a small cut in your gums. And he dropped a bomb into my open mouth. You are going to cut my gums?

Its going to hurt! I yelled. The dentist and the nurse ignored me.

Like It Happened Yesterday - Singh Ravinder

I asked them to call my father. They still ignored me. The dentist and the nurse were now almost ready to dissect my tiny, pink gums.

The nurse adjusted the overhead light so that it fell right on my face. It blurred my vision for a second. The dentist picked up his tools and asked me to open my mouth. I was petrified. No, no! I kept repeating. My legs trembled. I wanted to get off that reclining chair and escape, but it was impossible to get off. The dentist said it wouldnt hurt, because he was going to give me anaesthesia.

As he mentioned that, he picked up a large injection.


It had a long needle that would have been around four inches, if not five. He brandished that horrible thing right in front of my scared eyes. I froze. I couldnt utter a single thing. I was staring at the injection. I cried out. No, I screamed! It was probably the loudest and the longest scream of my entire life. Im quite sure it could be heard much beyond that small cabin, the dental ward, travelling down the staircase right into the parking lot. In its long journey, my scream must have announced my panic to almost everyone present in that hospital, including my father.

In no time, Dad came running into the cabin. He looked at the dentist and the nurse. They had left whatever they had been holding so far. Their hands were on their ears.

It was all only too clear. The dentist looked at my father and didnt feel the need to say anything. My father apologized on my behalf. I looked at my father and begged him to take me away. He patted my back and told me that it was important that I allow the dentist to operate on my mouth.

He explained that if this was not done, I would be left toothless for the rest of my life. I am fine with that! I dont want this! Please, Daddy! I had begun to cry. You wont even get to know. It wont hurt at all after you take this anaesthesia, the dentist pitched in. It took me a minute to frame my answer.

How dumb! This anaesthesia injection itself is going to hurt, na! The nurse smiled. The dentist looked angrily at her. The dentist turned to Dad and announced, If you cant convince him now, you will have to bring him next week, as I have other cases to look after.

I thought of telling him to postpone it. But, right then, Dad recalled that next week he would be out of station. So the operation had to be done that day itself. Half an hour later, with me on that dentists chair, our negotiations and peace talks had failed.

The outcome of this failure was simple. We were at war! United, they stood. Alone, I sat. Dad asked the dentist to proceed with my operation.

The dentist again picked up his syringe and filled it. I took up my attacking position. The moment the dentist came close to me, I punched into the air between us, narrowly missing the injection. Dad shouted at me and asked the nurse to pin down one of my arms.

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He then grabbed my other arm. The goddamn chair didnt even allow me to jump off! I wildly paddled my legs in the air. A few cotton balls, along with a few dental instruments, fell over the big arm of the chair.

And I screamed my lungs out. It was not only difficult, but almost impossible, for the dentist to inject me. He kept shouting that if I didnt stop, my struggling might end up in the needle breaking and getting stuck somewhere inside my gum. But that didnt bother me. I screamed out louder in response. We were caught in a tussle. It was three versus onethe little me, to be precise. The three of them were shouting too, telling each other what to do. Dad then asked the nurse to pin down both my hands.

He twisted my arms and brought my hands together, behind the back of the chair, and asked the nurse to hold them down in that position. He then went to the other side of the reclining chair, to hold down my legs.

He sat on my knees and weighed down my thighs. My legs were now in his full control. I gathered up all my energy and continued to protest. The tight grip of the nurse had almost stopped the blood circulation in my wrists. I was now sweating. I felt suffocatedbut I didnt give up. My eyes had grown big and red. But my idea was not to settle down, and keep continuing my fight. But in no time, I was exhausted. I was breathing heavily.

The three of them knew this. They could see that, every moment, I was getting a little more tired. When my revolt was reduced to intermittent screams, the dentist came closer to me.

My father and the nurse continued to hold me tight. The dentist told them that he was finally going to inject me. I collected all my leftover energy and, now, instead of moving my body, I started shaking my head left and right.

The dentist was now extremely irritated. So was my father. The nurse kept shouting, just out of my line of sight, Kya kar rahe ho, beta!

Aise mat karo. Dont act like this. It's smooth like a well oiled machine and u'll be through with it in no time. Its a simple story and anybody who is interested in reliving their childhood can join Ravinder Singh in his journey. Keep writing. Sep 26, Akshaya rated it did not like it. Picked it up only because an unread book on my shelf wouldn't let me rest in peace. It took me less than two hours to skim through the whole of its incoherent content.

The fact that authors like Ravinder Singh find their place among best-selling authors brings to light the pathetic state of Indian literature today. A string of ill-narrated diary entries woven into a 'novel', which also sells across the country. If authors like Ravinder Singh could place focus on the quality of writing and th Picked it up only because an unread book on my shelf wouldn't let me rest in peace. If authors like Ravinder Singh could place focus on the quality of writing and the impact their words would have on the reader and not solely on filling in a few pages and publishing them under their name, the state of light-reads in here wouldn't be half as pathetic.

Jun 29, Sourav Saha rated it it was amazing. Really makes you fall in love with one's childhood all over again Jul 17, Anu Dev rated it did not like it. Big disaster.. Book is just like pages from my old diary entry Dec 20, Priti rated it liked it. I thought maybe this will be a school love story and every second I would be expecting him to be falling in love. I have read some of reviews in which the people have actually criticized the book too much.

I mean give the author a break.. Nov 05, Gargi Bhardwaj added it. Not a great novel but a light one Jul 09, Jeevan Sharma rated it liked it. A good book, perhaps could have been a lot better, if more emphasis is placed on childhood and teenage memories rather than spending too much time on Puberty and sexual attractions. But I Love end, it is motivating and refreshing.

Overall not a bad read.. Jun 05, Addhaya Anil rated it did not like it Shelves: A story all about childhood days and I found it bit funny initially but got bored soon. This is the 2nd book by Ravinder Singh that I've read. Don't read it if you really want to save your time. Dec 10, Salma rated it it was amazing.

From vaccinations to final exams, the book is filled stories that almost all of us can relate to. The book is popular in metropolitans and B-towns alike. Like It Happened Yesterday takes you through a series of first times, both good and bad. You might find yourself getting lost in your own childhood adventures. Be it the first day of school, the first time you lost a tooth or the first time you ma Like It Happened Yesterday is a wonderful and fictional journey through Ravinder Singh's childhood.

Be it the first day of school, the first time you lost a tooth or the first time you made a paper boat — you'll love the warm cozy feeling that engulfs you when you turn the pages of this book. The author indulges us with the memories of his childhood, growing up in a small town and shows us how the most mundane things can be magical through the eyes of a child. Take a trip down memory lane with this good read, it's a great companion for a lonely bus ride.

At the end of it you will probably feel like your own childhood just happened yesterday. Sep 10, Barani rated it really liked it Shelves: Purchased the ebook in But had a chance to read it only last week. Not sure if it's a real story. But enjoyed it except some areas. May be he is trying to be genuine which is a quality for writing a biography. He is good at narrating and attention-to-the detail.

Narration of Mahabharat intro speech of every episode will take you to the mid 80s. I feel the book is cut-short and I wanted more throughout the school life. At some point in time, I felt like reading my own diary. When I was Purchased the ebook in When I was reading exactly 46th page, I saw some negative reviews on goodreads. Keeping them aside, I moved further. Ending of the story is a typical Indian-Masala type.

Finally, I enjoyed reading it. Feb 14, Shantanu Lakhotia rated it it was ok. I have only one word for this book "POOR". There is not much to expect from the story, no thrill,No big heroic work. The flight of excitment I got from reading the back page of the book had crashed after reading the first 2 chapters. There is no effort on the authors side to make this book interesting.

I had to drag myself to read the chapters. This book is a waste of time, money and paper. I sincerely hope that both the publisher as well as the author realize what a mistake they have done by allowing this book to be published and come up with a much better book to restore their reputation.

Mar 06, Deepanshu Mohindru rated it liked it. Sep 30, Priyanka Lal rated it liked it. A nostalgic trip down memory lane. Far far better from the author's previous works. Deals with the time of innocence to the journey of growing up.

A boy's experience put in simple words which enriches the reading experience. All descriptions could be pictured, enjoyed and one could connect to them. Kudos to the writer and the editing team. A great deal of care has been taken to bring out a quality product.

All will have an easy and fun time reading. Jul 15, Megha Sharma rated it did not like it. Utterly disappointing. Immature writing, no story. Pankaj said: The first thing I felt while and after reading this book: I wish if it had n. Like It Happened Yesterday. Apache OpenOffice Free alternative for Office productivity tools: Apache OpenOffice - formerly. You can also After the period of one month just reinstall the app and enjoy reading: