tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25028491155721296502024-03-12T22:48:22.537-07:00History, Mystery, Daal and BiryaniAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.comBlogger43125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2502849115572129650.post-66850154229238571462016-04-24T19:10:00.001-07:002016-04-24T19:10:38.923-07:00Accident<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i>*********************************************************</i></div>
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<i> </i></div>
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<i>Present</i></div>
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"How bad is it?" asked Shalini.</div>
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"Very bad. She has sustained pretty bad head injuries and is currently in coma. We are trying our best, but what we really want is a miracle." said the doctor.</div>
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Shalini looked through the hospital room window at her mother, with wires attached and computer monitors showing myriad graphs and numbers that somehow said something about how her body is coping up. It was 4 am, about an hour before it would normally be time to wake up and get going with her day. Will she get up at the usual time today, as if nothing ever happened and it was all a bad dream?</div>
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Shalini sat across the table from the police officer in the doctor's cabin. Her fingers fiddled around the car keys while the police looked at the papers in front of them.</div>
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"We are very sorry about your parents ma'am. So far it looks to be a hit and run case, possibly drunken driving. From the look of the car, the speeding vehicle hit the driver's side and your father, who was driving died on the spot. It looks to have been quick."</div>
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"What about the CCTV cameras on the street?" asked Shalini. "There was a lot of talk in the media about the new cameras being put up everywhere in the city. Surely you must be having some footage that would help you catch the person who was driving the speeding car."</div>
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"It turns out that the cameras on that street were not working." the officer replied. "Most probably it must have been the street kids hitting stones at them that must have damaged. We are canvasing for possible witnesses to maybe get the registration number or at least the make and model of the car. It is a difficult task since it was really late at night and the road is usually isolated."</div>
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"So what you mean to say is right now you have nothing? Not even somebody who could have seen the accident?"</div>
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"As I said ma'am, its a very isolated road and it was late at night. We are still searching for people in the surrounding areas who might have seen any speeding vehicle. Looking at the damage caused by the impact, we think it is a big vehicle, an SUV or a truck. We'll contact you once we find something. We are releasing your father's body and you can claim it later today."</div>
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*********************************************************</div>
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<i>2 months earlier</i></div>
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"Why not, Papa?" Shalini shouted. "I'm sick of this place. I've got this new job and I'm taking it."</div>
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<i> </i></div>
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"How will you manage on your own? All your life you've lived with us and now all of a sudden you want to leave?"</div>
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"Yes I do. I'm old enough to take care of myself. And you call this living? It would be good for you once I leave. At least then you can continue your drinking without having to worry about the so called taking care of your daughter. You never wanted me anyway."</div>
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"Think about your mother at least beta. What will she do without you?"</div>
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"Don't you dare bring Ma into this. Do you think I don't know what you do with her? I don't sleep at night because I know the next morning I'll see her with bruises. You are just a monster pretending to be a father and a husband."</div>
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The slap hit her hard on the face and she stumbled.</div>
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"Get out. Go wherever you want. You were never wanted in this house anyway. Don't show me your face again."</div>
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<br />*********************************************************</div>
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<i>10 years earlier</i></div>
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"Are you sleeping, beta?" he asked as he entered the room.</div>
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Shalini crawled deeper into her blanket. She had heard the noise for the past 30 minutes. His shouting, her mother's cries, the breaking of the glass. All of it.</div>
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"I'm not angry now, beta. I know you don't like me doing all this, but you will understand once you grow up. Fights happen between grown ups, but you don't be scared. Nobody is angry at you."</div>
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He sat on the edge of her bed and gently patted her forehead.</div>
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"My doll is feeling scared. Papa is here for you beta, don't worry."</div>
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He slowly slid the blanket off her face. There were tears in her eyes.</div>
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"How are you feeling now, my doll? Is your stomach feeling better now? Let Papa check."</div>
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He felt her tummy. He also felt the muscles tightening.</div>
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"Relax beta. Papa will make you feel better."</div>
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She closed her eyes tight as his hand slid further down.</div>
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<i>*********************************************************</i></div>
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<i>Present</i></div>
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<i> </i></div>
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Still fiddling with the keys, Shalini walked out of the hospital. Her father was a monster, he got what he deserved. But why Ma? Why were you with him that night? If she hadn't accompanied him in the car, at least she would have been okay. She never hurt anybody.</div>
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Shalini sat in her car. She always found peace while driving. Thank God for easy car loans, she felt. They enabled her to buy the SUV she always wanted. </div>
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But now the long drives will have to wait. At least until the dent in the front of the vehicle had been repaired. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2502849115572129650.post-18202270532358528842015-09-02T22:03:00.000-07:002015-09-02T22:03:00.484-07:00The Last Heavy Walk<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Holding her in my arms, slowly and very carefully I climbed down the stairs. She was very weak and could not stand up by herself, let alone walk. I had to be very careful in the way I held her so as not to hurt her more than what she was already going through. Sally gave me an affectionate lick expressing her gratitude. I pressed my forehead against her's, something I had been doing for the seven years since we got her as a puppy. I never understood who or what God is, but at that moment I was praying, as hard as never before, with the utmost sincerity I could muster in my 12 year old heart to God to turn the tide and prevent the inevitable. A reluctant tear dropped from my eyes on to her cheeks. Before she could sense my emotions, I laid her down in her favorite corner of the garden where she could relieve herself.</div>
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Sally was my friend, a confidante with whom I could share anything. I would tell her my worries, my fears, and she would listen patiently without judging me. I have spent entire evenings playing with her. I have cried on her furry shoulders while she would try her best to lick my sadness away. It was all going to end soon, much sooner than any of us wanted to. I could not share my sadness with her. I needed to be strong for her. To be there with her in her final days. I lay on my bedroom floor looking at her, my mind flooding with all the memories that we'd shared in the past 7 years. There were our little secret which would never be told to anybody else. Who will I talk to once you are gone, Sally? She opened her eyes meekly. I think she sensed my sadness. You are going to get through this, I tell her. But her resigned look told me that she also knew what was coming. </div>
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We first noticed something was wrong two weeks earlier. I had taken her for her daily evening walk, and we did a small jog on our way back. Being the lazy dog that she was, she didn't like jogging much so she was lagging behind. When we reached home, she suddenly froze for a moment and then collapsed on the ground on her side. I didn't know what was happening. She was up within a few seconds, but the sight of her falling like that scared me. Her heart has become weak, the vet told us. She does not have much longer to live. Our world was collapsing around us. What do you mean she does not have long to live, I wanted to ask. You are a doctor, you are supposed to know how to cure these things. What is the use of being a doctor if you can strengthen a weak heart or save a life?</div>
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I was angry and I didn't know whom to blame. Was the vet at fault because she wasn't able to make Sally better? Was Sally to blame for being in the state that she is? Or was I the culprit for forcing her to run when I knew she did not like it? Later that night, I snuggled to my mother and hugged her tight. You are also a doctor Ma, can't you do something for Sally? She patted my head in the way only mothers do. We can give her some medicines which would make her live a bit longer. But she is going to get very weak soon. And the longer we keep giving her the medicines, the longer she will suffer. It is a tough decision we have to make.</div>
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Sally's last day had finally arrived. I wished that the night would never end. Let morning never come, dear God, let this night remain dark. But it didn't. Daylight broke and I was all ready for school the earliest I could be. Sally would be taken to the vet one last time while me and my siblings were away at school. I wanted to spend as much time as I could with her. Her head on my lap, we sat without any words being uttered. The silence and the finality of the situation did all the talking. My father put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it. Its time for you to go or you will be late to school, he said. Just one more minute Pappa, just one last minute more. I kissed her cheeks for one last time. No more of your fur on my clothes Sally. No more will I be welcomed home with that black wagging tail. No more will anybody beg me to share the snack I'm eating. Will you miss me as much I will miss you Sally?</div>
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It was the toughest walk to school. I wanted to go back and be with her. I wanted to cry without anybody seeing me do so. You could not make it rain, could you God? You could not do anything to wash away the tears that wanted to come out but could not. Do you even exist God? Why are you so sad today, my friends asked me. My dog is being put to sleep, I tell them. They laugh at me. Look at him, they say. Crying over a dog. Just get another one na, some suggest. How do I explain to them that you can't just get another dog? How do I tell them that it isn't a toy, where if one is gone you buy another. She is my Sally for heaven's sake. She will always be my Sally.</div>
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When I reached home in the afternoon, everybody was sad. We ate our food in complete silence, as if the first word spoken would shift the delicate balance of our universe. Will you take me where she is buried? I asked my parents. Yes, we will go there today evening.</div>
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I plucked the biggest flower from the garden before going. Sally was gone, and all we had left were the beautiful memories. She will always be there in our hearts, Ma said. Try to remember the love we shared for 7 years more than the last 10 days. I told them to leave me alone near her grave for a few minutes. I'll miss you Sally. Wherever you are now, I know you must be sharing your love because that's what you always did best. I placed the flower on the stone marking her resting place. I have got you your favorite biscuits Sally, will you eat them? I opened the biscuit packet I was carrying and held the biscuit forward in my hand. I could not take it any longer. My eyes pinched close as the tears finally started flowing. My mind couldn't keep them inside any longer.</div>
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Suddenly I felt a tiny mouth attempting to pick the biscuit from my hand. I opened my eyes and there was a little brown puppy with tiny floppy ears looking at me in anticipation and wagging it's tail. Are you hungry? I asked the puppy who started wagging even more furiously. You are so dirty, you need to have a bath. Come with me, let me clean you up a bit. I picked up the puppy and went back to my parents who were waiting for me. Somewhere deep beneath the ground, Sally smiled.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2502849115572129650.post-14589971505968295082015-06-21T21:36:00.000-07:002015-06-21T21:36:06.702-07:00House-Husband<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I scraped the last bit of scrambled eggs from the pan on to the plate. The bread was in the toaster and the coffee was ready. Archana entered the kitchen as I was just finishing laying out the plate for her. She had just showered and had the fresh morning look which amazed me every time.</div>
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"That does smell and look good. Any special occasion, dear husband?"</div>
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"I'm in a very good mood today morning, dear wife. Especially after last night." I winked.</div>
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Didn't I love seeing those cheeks turn red. We sat on the table for our breakfast.</div>
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"Looks like Mili had a good night's sleep yesterday, so you should not have much trouble today morning."</div>
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"I actually love the fact that I get to spend more time with our daughter than you. How many fathers can say that eh? We always have a blast together without you around."</div>
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"Some people also say that I'm an irresponsible mother, working while my child is yet to even start walking. What do you say to that?"</div>
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"Just that those people don't realize the joy of switching roles from time to time. You just worry about bring home enough money for us to pay our bills and I'll worry about taking care of the house."</div>
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She squeezed my arm.</div>
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"You do know how much I appreciate you doing this, don't you?"</div>
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"You are doing the real hard work, I'm just sitting at home lazing around and spending time with my daughter. So if we are done with all the sentimental talk, off you go to work."</div>
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"Before I go, I want to remind you to do something about that compost pit you have started in the garden. Its beginning to smell bad."</div>
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"It is a compost pit. It will smell bad for some time. But then you just wait and see how well our plants turn out. Shoo now."</div>
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Archana left for her office. I checked the baby timetable that she had kept for me. The next feeding was due in a couple of hours.</div>
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I liked this feeling of not having any work pressure and the time that my situation gave me. It was a tough decision, but I was glad for it. Traditionally a mother gives up her career to care for a child. In our case, Archana had a better job and a better salary than me, so it made some sense for her to continue working while I could care for the baby. And I insisted on it.</div>
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Sitting on the sofa, I opened the newspaper. All depressing news as usual. Economy is down, blasts occurring in some remote corner of the world, a burglary here and there. My eyes stopped at a news article about a missing corporate tycoon, Karan Joshi. Wasn't that name familiar? Of course it was. We were in college together, in fact we were at that time thinking of starting a venture together before life happened and things didn't turn out the way we thought they would. The article said he was last seen going out for lunch from his office and did not return. His phone was found in a dustbin next to the office building. It had been a week now but there was still no trace of him. There hadn't been any ransom call yet but the police weren't sure of ruling out kidnapping.</div>
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Did I feel bad about it? I wasn't sure. He was my best friend in college, my only confidante. The idea on which he built his company was my idea, and I ended up not being a part of it. While I was trying to make my ends meet, he was pitching the business plan to various investors connected to his rich father and managed to get an initial investment. One thing led to another and he became one of the youngest business heads. All of it, started with my idea, not his. And now he was missing. Did I feel bad about it? Maybe a bit for his family, but not for him.</div>
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I remembered Archana had told me to do something about the smell in the compost pit. Maybe I should put more soil on it to reduce the smell. As I shoveled soil into the pit, I felt a surge of anger. It should have been the both of us who would succeed together. My idea did not benefit me. You son of a bitch Karan, you stink. Literally. I do hope the worms and insects are feasting on you right now. I hope they finish you fast so that the smell can reduce before Archana gets more inquisitive about this compost pit.</div>
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I washed away the dirt and checked the time. It was time for Mili's feed. I took her bottle and went to her. She looked at me with a twinkle in her eyes. I love you my child, and I will make sure that nobody plays with your dreams ever.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2502849115572129650.post-1993329816734127672015-01-04T20:11:00.002-08:002015-01-04T20:11:48.383-08:00Always Late!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I checked my watch yet again, as if the more I check the time, the faster my bag will arrive. I was pretty sure that I could identify at least four different bags that had circulated the carousel more than five times but my bag did not turn up even once. What the hell were those airline ground staff paid for?</div>
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My phone rang. It was my sister Sayali.</div>
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"Did you fall asleep in the plane? What is taking you so long?" she barked.</div>
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"Is it my fault now that my plane gets delayed and my bag refuses to arrive?"</div>
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"Give all the excuses you want, you are always late for everything. You know the memorial service starts in 30 minutes right?"</div>
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"Yes my dear, I know that. I will change at the airport itself and come directly to the church. The airline has already pissed me off quite bad, I don't need you to make me feel worse."</div>
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"Blame me for every damn thing now. I hope you know where the hall is. It is behind....."</div>
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"Stop it now. I also grew up in the same town as you. Okay, I see my bag now. See you in a few minutes." </div>
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I cut the phone. Do all sisters like to micro-manage everything? She may be older than me, but I'm 28 now and she still treats me like a five year old kid.</div>
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I rushed with my bag to the restroom to change into more formal attire. Damn, I should have worn the suit before taking off. I quickly changed into the suit and was sitting in the cab in 10 minutes.</div>
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On a normal day, it should take about 10 minutes from the airport to the church, but since Murphy's law applied to the situation, there was a big traffic jam. My phone rang again.</div>
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"Where are you now?" Sayali asked.</div>
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"I'm sitting on my ass in the cab and there is a big traffic jam."</div>
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"Why do I have a feeling that you are still at the airport?"</div>
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"So I'm a liar now? Wait, let me open the window. Can you hear the honking outside? Or do you need more proof?"</div>
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"Its no use yelling at me. You were one of his favorites, not me. Couldn't you have come a day earlier?"</div>
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"Listen, its no use talking in retrospect. I'm trying my best here. So please cut me some slack."</div>
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"Fine" she said and cut the phone.</div>
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One word "fine", but it can have different connotations when it is said by a girl, none of which is the actual dictionary meaning of the word. But she was right. I was one of Francis sir's favorite. </div>
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Francis D'Souza was my high school teacher, though mentor would be a better word. He literally held my hand through all my struggles grasping math, often staying after school hours to provide me individual tutoring. If it wasn't for him, I would never have had the courage to become a teacher myself later in life. He made me fall in love with numbers and that was the basis of everything else in my life and career. We kept in touch even after I moved out of the city to work, though the past year it regressed. His health was failing him with age and I was too busy with my work to pay him a visit. That was till I got the phone call two days back. He had passed away. All the guilt of neglecting him came crashing on me. I hadn't seen him for over a year and now the only way I would remember him would be sleeping peacefully in his coffin.</div>
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Finally the cab reached the destination. I hastily paid the driver and rushed towards the church with my bag tagging along. Oh wait! Where was the hall exactly? I saw a priest walking by.</div>
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"Excuse me, Father. Can you please tell me where Mr. D'Souza's memorial service is being conducted?"</div>
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"Sure. If you go towards the front entrance of the church, then its in the hall on your left."</div>
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I thanked him and hurried. Luckily I was only 10 minutes late.</div>
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I entered the hall. The coffin was right in the front and there were about 8 people sitting on the benches. I could not see Sayali there. There was a slight sense of victory here. I'm the one who is always late, it it?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I had never met his family before. I approached the old lady sitting in the front, who I assumed would be his wife.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Mrs. D'Souza, I want to offer my deepest condolences for your loss. He was a great man."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Thank you, child. May I ask who you are? Sorry, but I've never seen you before." she said.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"I was his student. One of his favorites in fact."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The man sitting nearby came over. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Really?" he said tersely. "What exactly did he teach you?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Everything that he knew. He loved his job. I used to struggle a lot earlier, but he made me feel comfortable. He was my inspiration and I followed his footsteps into my career. I owe him my life, my career, everything."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The man gave me a disgusted look and walked out of the hall. I could not understand what I had said that offended him. I sat down next to the lady and held her hand.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Ma'm, if there is anything I could do for you, please let me know. It would mean a lot to me." I said.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
She pulled her hand away and turned her back towards me. I looked around. Everybody was looking at me suspiciously. Nobody said anything.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was the priest who had given me directions earlier. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Can you please come with me for a moment, son?" he asked gently.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We walked out of the hall.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Now, I see that you have made these people very uncomfortable." he said.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"I don't know what is happening. I just told them that Mr. D'Souza was my teacher and how special he was to me."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Trevor taught you, is it?" </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Who is Trevor?" </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Trevor D'Souza, the man whose memorial this is. He used to be an actor, you know. Not the normal theater or movies. He used to work in those .. umm ... adult films. You know what I'm saying? The family did not like his profession, so they do not talk about it."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Oh my God! I am here for Mr. Francis D'Souza's memorial. He was my school teacher."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Oh, that is being held in the hall behind the church."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I thanked him and hurried towards the correct hall. Well, that explained the looks that I got. Hell, what was I talking?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The hall was almost full. I scanned the crowd and located Sayali who was sulking. She had kept a seat next to her empty for me. I quietly went and sat next to her. I knew what was coming.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Thank you for coming before they finished the service. What is your excuse now?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"I don't have any excuse. You won't believe what just happened. I reached the church and ..."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Just shut up. Excuses and more excuses. I don't want to listen to any of your stories. You are always late!"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Based on an incident in the book "The Skin Collector" by Jeffrey Deaver.</i> </div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2502849115572129650.post-43230385302928504702014-12-27T14:34:00.000-08:002014-12-27T14:34:40.668-08:00Love to Hate<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Why do we love to hate so much?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This question comes to my mind every time I open any form of social media. We hate politicians, we hate animals, we hate our neighbors, we hate this, that, everything. Not a single day passes without some form of hatred being posted on every social platform. Let me put it in another way</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
If x is an object to be hated,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
y = hate (x)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Now somebody that loves x, will hate y</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
hate(y) = hate(hate(x))</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Next somebody will hate the somebody hating y, because maybe that somebody likes x.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Therefore hate(hate(y)) = hate(hate(hate(x)))</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
If x = hate(y)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
hate(x) = hate(hate(hate(x)))</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Substituting further we get</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
hate(x) = hate(hate(hate(.......hate(x)....))) </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Can you see where this is going? </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
One single hate gives rise to multiple hates and there is simply no end. Any person with a bit of familiarity with computer programming knows what this is. Classic stack overflow in recursive functions (Okay, I had to put some geeky stuff here).</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Which brings us to the question (once you forgive the senselessness of my mathematical model). Why do we hate everything so much?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The most recent episode, that actually prompted me into writing this post, is about the scathing criticism of the new movie PK. Assuming that you have watched the movie in addition to reading and listening to all the praises and brickbats, I want to give my opinion.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The movie raises questions, lots of them, some might be viewed as controversial. Most of the criticism that I've read is that it singles out Hinduism as a religion for questioning beliefs. Why not Islam, Christianity or Sikhism? This reminds me of an incident when I was in school. The teacher was reprimanding a student for some bad behavior. The student's argument was, why do you pick on just me? I'm not the only one behaving badly, there are many more in this class. Why have you singled me out? The teacher replied, even if everybody else in the class is behaving badly, does that mean your behavior is fine? We are focusing on behavior, not who is doing it!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
By now it should be clear, which side of the coin I'm supporting. The movie did raise some big questions, but the so called protectors of religion are evading the actual questions and instead resorting to redirecting the focus. I'm a Hindu myself, and no, I did not feel that my belief was questioned in any manner by the movie. The questions raised were logical ones. If God loves his children, will he tell them to roll on the floor or beat yourself before he shows love? When he is so powerful, will he be hurt by somebody asking him a question?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
What is the whole point of religion? All of seek peace of mind. Some find it in work, some in art, some find it in religion. It is all in the mind, in a very personal space. Nobody can force you to believe in something until and unless it comes from within. It isn't necessary that what we believe is correct. For example, didn't mankind believe once upon a time that the earth was flat or that the sun revolved around the earth? If questions were not raised about this, we wouldn't have discovered the truth. When we are unable to answer questions on what we believe, somewhere in a remote corner of this personal space in the mind, doubts begin to rise as to maybe, just maybe there might be more to this than what meets the eye. It is not the faith that is being questioned, it is the logic behind the practices that is questioned. We seek to rationalize every thing, then why not religion too?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A few years back, the same people made another movie that questioned the educational system in engineering colleges of India. Nobody said, why only engineering, why not arts, commerce, law colleges? All of us enjoyed the movie and went home with a smile. Why not do the same here?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
What I'm most happy about is that the movie has given rise to widespread discussion on a topic that is being demonized. We need to move away from the "my religion is better than yours" debate. Religion is a personal preference, just like the brand and type of clothes we wear. Just because I like wearing a particular brand does not mean everybody should. Just because I prefer playing cricket does not mean a person playing football is wrong or ignorant. If you feel that questions are being asked about your beliefs, answer them using the same beliefs. If you think the questions don't make any sense, explain why they don't make any sense.Sometimes the question is more important than the person asking the question.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And please, for once. Can we stop hating each other? If you don't like a person, don't talk to them. Simple! There is so much more to life than hating somebody just because that somebody does not believe in the same thing as you do. If you don't want to hear the questions that the movie asks, just don't watch the movie. Is it so difficult to "not spend" your money on something that you don't want to watch?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Opinions are like assholes. Everybody has one and everybody thinks that the other person's stinks. I like mine.</i></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2502849115572129650.post-77586454929693567092014-12-01T21:14:00.000-08:002014-12-01T21:14:03.404-08:00A Lonely Birthday<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Thank you"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Thanks a lot :)"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Haha ... thanks"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Replying to all those meaningless wishes on Facebook is the last thing I want to do on my birthday. I want to go out, I want to celebrate. Alas that isn't going to happen. A man struggling to find a job in a new city has very few friends, if not none. These are not the type of friends you would want to go out with and have a party. I know who I want to go out with and she is right next door. But Meera would not go anywhere with me, not now.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
People have called me a lot of things over the years, shy and introverted being the most decent of them. They never understood me and majority did not even try to understand me. Yes, I had a problem and the problem was that I found it extremely difficult to convert my thoughts into spoken words. I always had answers to all the questions in my mind, but they refused to come out of my mouth. I was going downhill with my inability to communicate, almost on the verge of contemplating suicide, and that's when I met Meera.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
She turned my life around. Finally I had found somebody who understood me. She introduced me to writing and that gave me an outlet for all the thoughts that were flooding and overwhelming my mind. She made me realize that I wasn't totally useless and in fact I was pretty good at something.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Don't think about those times, I tell myself. Things have changed now. People come into your life, change things around, and then they leave you, as if they weren't even there. You are on your own now and its high time you got your shit together. Nobody cares about anybody other than themselves, so learn to live with it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Okay okay fine. I get the point, but thinking about the good days makes me feel better. It is like a tiny spark of light in a dark tunnel. It does not do much, but it does give you something to smile about.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Smile like a fool the entire day if you so like. Anyway, nobody is going to celebrate your birthday for you. Not Meera, nor any of your family. You don't even have any friends. Don't tell me you have 347 so called friends on Facebook, they don't count. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My head is about to burst, I don't want to think anything.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Yes, you don't want to think. That will stop everybody else from thinking that you are an idiot, is that right? That will stop people from making fun of you behind your back. Your stopping to think prevented that Raj in school from sticking that paper on your butt saying "Here is an Asshole". Your stopping to think prevented you from losing your jobs, is it? Your stopping to think will prevent you from overhearing Meera making fun of you?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Stop it right there. I like her, hell I love her more than anything else.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Yes you do. But what does she feel about you? I don't think she even wants to wish you on your birthday.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
She doesn't know it because I never told her. Go to hell, I am going to tell her right now, and nothing is going to stop me.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I pick up the key to her apartment from my table and walk to her door. Will it be rude to go in without knocking? I knock on the door but nobody answers. I unlock the door and enter. Everything is too dark. I turn on the light and there I see Meera sleeping peacefully in her sleeping bag. I open the zip of the bag and hold her in my arms. I like holding her when she is asleep. The blood on her clothes has also dried up now. Why Meera why? Why did you say mean things about me? I liked holding you better when you were awake, but it is fine. I will take whatever I get in this life. An asshole cannot make big demands. I hope you are sleeping soundly Meera. </div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2502849115572129650.post-14568649916590798472014-06-25T22:58:00.000-07:002014-06-25T22:58:36.887-07:00Late Evening<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".8i.$mid=11403558719460=2a47b1679138808e110.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">Never...Never again am I going to multi-task, thought Sapna as she hastily picked up everything that was fallen on the footpath. Never search for something in your purse while you are talking on the phone. In compliance with Murphy's law, the purse will choose that very moment to overturn and spill all the assorted contents all over.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".8i.$mid=11403558719460=2a47b1679138808e110.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">It was quite a crowded evening and the people around her looked on as she gathered her myriad collection. Too much to expect a bit of chivalry and decency from the men standing around, she thought. None of them came forward to help her, they just stood their ground and stared. One particular man with a rugged unshaven face stood out. His stare was weird to say the least. Maybe stared was the wrong word, leching would be more appropriate. Sapna realized that she was bending down while picking up her things. She adjusted her top so that the neckline came up a bit higher. Bloody men, she thought. Always out to get a glimpse wherever and whenever they can.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".8i.$mid=11403558719460=2a47b1679138808e110.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">In a hurry she stuffed everything in the purse and walked away. The sun was going down and she was already getting late. As she hurriedly crossed the street, she looked back and saw the unshaven man behind her. He waved out to her smiling. The smile revealed tobacco stained teeth. Creepy!</span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".8i.$mid=11403558719460=2a47b1679138808e110.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">She quickened her pace. There was still about a kilometer to walk before the bus stop. She glanced behind and saw that the man was also walking faster now. He would easily catch up with her before reached the bus. The alley in which she was walking was very less crowded now and it was dark. She broke into a run. If he was going to catch her anyway, she was not going to make it easy for him.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".8i.$mid=11403558719460=2a47b1679138808e110.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">Everybody had told her that the city is not safe for women, especially after dark. She had conveniently chosen to ignore these talks. Afterall she was a strong, modern, independent women and had more important matters to think of. Who worries about all these things until they happen to you? She now regretted not heeding the advice.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".8i.$mid=11403558719460=2a47b1679138808e110.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">She had to lose him somehow, maybe give him a slip. As she was running she saw a broken wall on the right. Maybe that would hide her till he crossed and then she could double back and take another route. She ran behind it and crouched down. A bead of sweat trickled down her neck as she pressed her back against
the wall. With her heart pounding in her chest, she peeped from the side
and saw him approaching. It was quite apparent that he hadn't seen her go behind the wall as he seemed to be looking around for her. Maybe he will just keep going and she would lose him. In the tension she miscalculated the strength of the wall. A couple of loose bricks fell down with a thud. He noticed the sound and ran towards the broken wall.</span></span><br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".8i.$mid=11403558719460=2a47b1679138808e110.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null"><br /></span></span>
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".8i.$mid=11403558719460=2a47b1679138808e110.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">Sapna was standing defiantly before him now. If she was going to get it anyway, she won't make it easy for him. She would put all those self-defense lessons to use. He gave his stained smile. His hand went into his pocket as if trying to take out a weapon, but Sapna was too quick for him. A kick on the shins, a punch on
the jaw and another kick between his legs. He lay sprawled on the
ground. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".8i.$mid=11403558719460=2a47b1679138808e110.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">As she was about to move away from the scene, she saw something
clutched in his hand. It was her wallet that had fallen out earlier.</span></span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2502849115572129650.post-27501434091704865012014-05-04T13:07:00.000-07:002014-05-04T13:07:02.477-07:00The Past Few Months<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
After a series of dreams where I was fighting grizzly bears (for some reason that I don't remember) I woke up today. I checked the time and it was 11 am. I walked out of my room and saw my roommate sitting on the couch and watching some sitcom.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Do you know the time?" He asked me.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Yeah. 11" I replied.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Welcome back to the normal world." He said with a smile.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Thats what my last few months have been. Abnormal, because normal is too mainstream.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The euphoria of having cracked the interviews in a software biggie quickly died down as I just realized that I had miscalculated my academic gig. In late December, it dawned on me that in order to graduate I would have to complete a thesis which I had planned on avoiding. To put into perspective the gravity of the miscalculation, a thesis is a research project that one does which has to be unique (never been done before by anybody else) as well as useful to a certain extent. From what I had heard from other students, it takes approximately one year (at least) to complete it and get it approved (if you manage to do it at all). One year of extreme reading and frustration. One year of strong caffeine. I had planned to graduate in May. That gave me 4-5 months. F##k!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
With this realization began a barrage of thoughts in my head. Will I graduate? If I don't, will the job be still available if I did not get my degree? Why did I come to this university? What was I thinking when I decided to do my Masters? What am I doing with my life? Bang bang bang!!!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
God has a weird sense of humour when it comes to me. He loves to put me in situations where I feel that I cannot make it. And when I am at my lowest, he brings people in my life who just pull me up with a snap and all the pieces of the puzzle fall into place. So far my parents have always been among these people and this time it was no different. One fine evening when I was talking to them cribbing about all the problems that I had, I got a pretty stern talk as to when I would stop cribbing and start working. Why was I focussing more on the problem when instead I should be working on the solution? Hadn't I faced challenges before? Was I a coward? Ouch!! That one hurt my ego.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This got me working. Took a look at the different projects I had done so far, extensive search for material on Google (I owe you my life!), contacting the Professor who would be my advisor, and by the second week of January I had a rough plan for what I was going to do for a thesis. It is actually a miracle how things start falling into place once you shift your attention from the problem to the solution. The road was still long and if I had thought it would be a smooth highway, I was sadly mistaken.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I began my work in gusto, and my idea took form. Stuff was fitting together, and pretty fast that too. Maybe a thesis is not so difficult after all. But Murphy had other plans. Around the end of February, while searching for some reference material, I came across a research article which, believe it or not, described EXACTLY the same idea that I was working on. I was devastated. The main criterion of a thesis that it has to be something never done before was not satisfied now. All my work was in vain. To rub salt on my wounds, that article was published in January 2014, just about a month back. I had lost about 2 months of the precious 4 months that I had. Could it get any worse?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My advisor suggested that I look into something called "Ontologies" to use in my project. I don't have much idea about it, he said, but it might be useful. Off I went to my saviour (Google!) and the material was mind-boggling. How will I manage to learn about this and then think of ways to use it in my project, that too in 2 months? This period was by far the worst of the season. All my confidence was crushed and I was pretty darned sure that I won't be graduating any time soon. But again, God had other plans in store.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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While at work (yeah, I was working in another group at the same time for a miniature income), my supervisor (who was a PhD student herself) asked me how my thesis was getting along. This triggered my negative rant about how I wasn't going to graduate, how I could not understand those bloody "Ontologies", how I was lost and so on. Turns out, she had done quite a bit of work in that topic and she spent about 45 minutes explaining it all to me. She went to the extent of sharing a chapter which she had written for her dissertation with me. I was given a breath of fresh air. It took all my self control to stop myself from jumping and hugging her and maintain a professional etiquette. This actually kick-started my entire project again, and I still can't thank her enough for it.</div>
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What followed was me working with a renewed vigour. I still can't believe that I managed to put in all that effort. My days would begin around 7 in the morning. A quick shower, some breakfast with coffee (an extra spoonful stronger) and off I would go to my lab where I would spend the rest of the day in front of the computer and numerous sheets of paper. Come back home after 10 pm, a quick dinner and off to bed. Repeat. Every night I would get nightmares that I am giving a presentation and it would get rejected. Finally everything culminated in me defending the thesis successfully (though the defence went for an hour more than expected and more difficult than I had thought it would be).</div>
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Yes, I survived. I managed to do what almost everybody around me told me was impossible (and I believed that too). It may sound self-centered, but I am proud of myself for pulling it off. But did I do it alone? No way. It would not have begun if my Mom and Dad hadn't kicked my butt and made me start working instead of cribbing. It would not have taken any shape if it hadn't been for Julia (the supervisor) who gave me the right direction. Nothing would have gone anywhere if it wasn't for my awesome advisor Dr. Huang who held my hand while I was struggling to walk (figurative). I would not have had any sanity left if it wasn't for all the amazing friends who would patiently listen to all my rants (with more beeps than words) and keep me going. I would have been drowned in self-pity if it wasn't for some people who reminded me that I wasn't the only one having a shitty time, that Murphy's law did not apply only to me. If you are reading this, and in the past few months if I have ever ranted about my thesis to you, then you have helped me a great deal. If it wasn't for the awesome chemical called caffeine, I wouldn't have been able to concentrate. And finally, if it wasn't for Google, I and millions of others wouldn't have been able to call themselves engineers.</div>
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So what's the whole point of this post? Not to show how hard working I am (though its an added bonus :P). If you are a person back home in India, this is to tell you that life is not roses when you are doing post-graduation in US (though the pictures people put up on facebook gives that impression). If you are a prospective Master's student, be ready to slog it out. Do a thesis if you are passionate about a subject. Plan early if you want to do it and you won't land up in a soup like I did. If you can work hard, then it is possible to finish it on time and not delay your graduation. Don't listen to all the negativity around it. I was also scared of the prospect initially, but once you begin to like something and find it interesting, you can easily do it. Thesis is not a monster that it is made out to be. You just have to work hard in a different fashion and trust me, the satisfaction you get out of doing it is all worth the effort. This difficult phase also showed me the importance of having a rock solid circle of friends and family who have faith in you and know you well enough to give you a hand when you need it. To all the people who supported me in the past two years and beyond, I can't thank you enough. I love you all. To all the people I had arguments with in the past few months, I am extremely sorry. I was too stressed out and wasn't thinking straight. Initially I had thought of writing this as a thank you post for all the individuals who helped me, but realized that the list would be too long and out of context most of the time.</div>
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So just a few days before I wear the robe and walk on the stage to receive my degree, it feels great to have successfully completed a milestone along with hundreds of others. A couple of months long vacation to look forward to before I rejoin corporate life. Yes, life has never been better. I am happy to be back to normal ... :)</div>
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<i>P.S. : I did not use names of any friends since I did not want to miss anyone out by mistake ... :P</i></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2502849115572129650.post-54133505644578224562014-03-16T18:56:00.000-07:002014-03-16T18:56:15.933-07:00Bibliophile is the Word !<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Today I am in a fairly good mood, after a really long time. A project that I have been working on endlessly since the past few months has finally started showing some results. Today I don't want to use my brains. I don't feel like thinking much. I want to relax a bit. What can I do? Sleep? Naah. I do that everyday. Watch a movie? Sounds good, but then when most of your day is spent in front of a computer screen, your eyes start giving the middle finger to such ideas. And this brings me to one of my favorite hobbies ever since I was first introduced to it as a kid (reluctantly, if I may so add). </div>
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Reading!!!!</div>
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Now before you start labeling me a "nerd" or a "bookworm", wait for a moment. I already have those labels so you won't really be adding anything new. The correct term is Bibliophile. </div>
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The other day, I entered my apartment (which I share with a few other people) with a heavy bag. I was beaming with joy at what I had managed to lay my hands on. No prizes for guessing that it was a book. I took out a hard-bound 900+ page novel and was ready to dance with it. </div>
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"What the hell is that?" my roommate asked.</div>
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"Dude, its the second book of the Century Trilogy by Ken Follett. Had been looking for it for ages!" </div>
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His expression was as if I was speaking Latin.</div>
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"It is an amazing series that I wanted to read." I added, trying my best to convince that it was an awesome catch. Didn't really work.</div>
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"When the hell are you going to read that giant? Its the middle of the semester." he asked.</div>
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"This is my way of relaxing after studies." I said. </div>
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He thought I was the biggest idiot in town. After all, who in their right minds would read for relaxation, when you also have to read as a part of academics? Isn't relaxation something that you do for your mind to feel different from what it was feeling all day?</div>
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For me, reading is and will always be one of the best mode of relaxation. This post is my attempt to convince you why.</div>
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Everybody is fairly familiar with Harry Potter. The book described the Hogwarts school as a big castle with vast grounds and a lake that housed a giant squid amongst many other things. Now if we keep aside the visuals from the movie, what do you imagine it to be? Hard to imagine something different from what you have been shown in the movie, right? I will try giving another scenario. Imagine a beggar sitting down in the corner of a street in the heart of the city. What do you visualize? Is the beggar in your mind a man or a woman? Is the city Mumbai, Delhi or Chicago? What else is there on the street? How many vehicles are moving about?</div>
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In the first case, since most of us have watched the Harry Potter movies, our mind is already filled with the visuals from it and even if we read the whole series again, it is difficult if not impossible to get rid of them. However in the second scenario, our mind was an empty canvas that we filled with our imagination. We did not know who the beggar was or in which part of the world he belonged to. Each person's visualization would be different, and each as valid as the other. Remember the high that you got when you painted your first painting or cooked your first dish? That is the exact high that I and so many other bibliophiles like me get when we read a new book.</div>
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The sad part of our education is that in majority of the cases, reading is equated with studying and implicitly that is not supposed to be fun. As a child I was a huge fan of the Famous Five series by Enid Blyton. I had my own versions of each of the five cousins and I always felt a part of each and every story. My imagination knew no bounds and such stories made me believe that if the characters could achieve feats like these, I can too. And it was hell lot of fun letting your imagination loose.</div>
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I am lucky to have a family that loves the smell of a book and still reads for fun. Reading for fun does not involve trying to grasp the meaning behind each and every sentence (which is what we do while "studying"). Sometimes you even skip some of the boring sections of a book and you don't really miss out on much. You live the characters of the story rather than watching them from a distance like we do while watching movies. Reading is a very intimate experience with your mind and it is very personal. The author describes his version of a character in the book and you paint your own version in your mind, how it looks, how it expresses emotions. For example, when I read the HP series before watching the movie, the version of Hermione Granger in my mind was completely different from what Emma Watson looks like. But once I saw the movies, I always visualize Emma instead of the version that I earlier had. Not that I mind visualizing Emma (my not-so-secret crush), but it disappoints the reader in me to not be able to use my own brush to paint a picture.</div>
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Some of you may get the high that I was talking about in other activities, like music or sports. But equating reading with "studying" or "stress" is something that I vehemently oppose. Each child needs to be exposed to it at an early stage to see if he/she can see the fun part of it before they start relating it to boring or stressful activities. Because once you get it, it is an addiction that can only enrich you. Any bibliophile can tell you that it is difficult to leave even the most boring book in the middle. You get good ones, you get bad ones. But its the journey from the first page to the last that gives the experience of having lived through a story. Even an emotional wall like me had a tear in his eye while reading the letter written by Hassan to Amir in Khaleid Hosseini's "The Kite Runner" because I could feel the emotions being conveyed. Movies rarely give that feeling.</div>
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So if you've reached reading till here without calling me a fool in your mind, I can congratulate myself. Give it a try guys, it can be fun. I can only wish that in today's world of 120 something characters (yes, I do mean Twitter) people can experience the joy that the 400+ pages can give.</div>
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Today I want to relax. So off I go. A cup of coffee, a comfortable bed, and a book. Heaven is definitely on Earth! :)</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2502849115572129650.post-6573756359014522112014-02-23T21:59:00.002-08:002014-02-23T22:08:51.909-08:00From a Desi in Amreeka<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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At the last leg of my journey of pursuing the Master's degree, my mind wandered off to a day about 3 years back when the same mind felt that it was not done with education yet. I resigned from my fairly well-paying job and had a horde of people telling me that I'm committing career suicide by resigning even before I gave the entrance exams for post graduate studies. Even my managers who just about a month before my resignation were less than encouraging during the appraisal sessions, now offered me reduced workload so as to accommodate time for my study preparations. But my mind was made up and I was ready for a one year break for answering the required exams and pursuing my dreams. That part of the dream is almost achieved and with a job offer I am more than keen to take up, I couldn't help, but compare it to a similar situation when I had completed my bachelor's degree. </div>
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<a href="http://thecareercafe.co.uk/blog/wp-content/uploads/2012/08/stressed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://thecareercafe.co.uk/blog/wp-content/uploads/2012/08/stressed.jpg" height="249" width="320" /></a></div>
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The four years spent in obtaining my undergraduate degree had been stressful to say the least, and whatever confidence and self-esteem I had when I entered college was drained out by the time I left. The system did not agree with me and I did not agree with it. The result was that a person who wanted to learn the marvels of technology and had a passion to build, was totally changed and what came out was a guy who in rest of the world's eyes had one of the best pedigree that India had to offer and could conquer the world, but in reality he was just tired of trying to fit in a system that did not allow him to be himself. Comparing that to the present day, my graduate degree has been equally, if not more draining. But there is a feeling of satisfaction inside that I have actually learned something instead of cramming up what others told me to. A new confidence has built up which tells me that if I have managed to come through this, I can handle anything. Why this difference? Living in US has been more challenging than living in Allahabad and way more expensive too. But still I feel studying here has been one of the best decisions I ever took in my life. Why did I not feel the same when I was leaving Allahabad?</div>
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I have always been curious ever since I remember, and my parents encouraged it. Though highly introverted, I wanted to explore and learn new stuff. And inherent with that was my questioning behavior. I have never been able to take things at face value and have been ridiculed by classmates for asking too many questions in class. The worst was in an Electronics lecture in my first year at MNNIT. The Prof after finishing an explanation asked if anybody in the class had any questions. Promptly, yours truly raised his hand, and it was the only one in the class of 60. He asked the whole class if anybody else had the same doubt as the one I had asked. Nobody said anything. The Prof's conclusion was that I wasn't paying attention in class since everybody else had understood the concept, that I had a wandering mind and I should control it and focus during the class. I was made to stand up so that everybody could see me and humiliated for 5 minutes. In all these 5 minutes, he did not bother answering my question. The system had shown me my place. </div>
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There were many more incidents like these, each time with me getting convinced that maybe I was a bit stupid and incapable of grasping things fast. The exams were the biggest nightmare. Everybody expected the answers to be exact replica of what was given in the notes and anything written in a different way (though it meant the same) was given a big fat zero. The plummeting grades ate up my confidence, though the effort was always there. Slowly I began to accept that maybe I wasn't that good an engineer and that I should have tried some different career. It was even more reinforced during the final project presentation when our project report was thrown in our faces because one line on the index page was out of alignment. And this was a project that had been called for an international conference. The worst part was that I was in one of the top ranked institutes in India and this was the state. I could only imagine what people in other colleges went through. My belief has been that education is a journey in which teachers and students take part together. If we were on the same side in the beginning, at what stage did it become teachers versus students? And it wasn't just the teachers. The cut-throat competition ensured that friends turned into enemies in the illusion of a "competitive" world outside. Each student was trying to outdo the other in a totally unnecessary race. There were people who would spread rumors about certain chapters being included in the syllabus in order to scare the hell out of their classmates. So instead of studying together, it was more of studying to beat each other, and in this crazy melee I was guilty of trying it too and failed terribly.</div>
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Contrasting that with the two year experience in Arizona. I was again one of the few people asking "too many" questions, the Profs encouraged it. Even for the silliest of the doubts they would spend time explaining in different ways till the person understood it. They never hesitated in admitting if they did not know the answer to a question. Never ever did I see any student being humiliated even though they did not understand something or did not score decent marks. The assignments were tough, way more tougher than in undergrad and most of the time you had to take help from your friends to complete some tasks. Collaborative effort was encouraged but any form of plagiarism was severely dealt with. I even know some people who have been deported out of the country for plagiarizing some assignments. Grades were hardly the basis for any form of selection, including jobs and internships. The scores were confidential and nobody would know my grade if I chose not to reveal it. Slowly, as my understanding of the tech world increased, the lost confidence began returning. The only sad part here was that many of my fellow Indians still had that cut throat spirit which they forgot to leave back home.</div>
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The US education system is very effective in making you challenge yourself. The strict rules against plagiarism ensure that one tries to do the work honestly, the end result being that you have a better understanding of the material. I am very patriotic and I love my country and people. But it really makes me sad when we end up pulling ourselves down because of the system that we've grown up in. An example would be in selection of courses. Here, unlike the rigid structure in India, the selection of courses is totally up to you, and you can study whichever subject you want, decide your specialization as per your interests. Inspite of this flexibility, I have seen a crazy herd mentality among Indian students here. Everybody wants to go for the so-called easy courses where getting higher grades is easy. Most students don't even know which subjects they are interested in and enroll in courses just because everybody does that. To top it all, when new students come in and ask the seniors for advice, the same advice is passed on and the vicious chain goes on.</div>
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Some more points that I would like to make as to why the system in US is better </div>
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<li>It encourages innovative thinking rather than rote learning</li>
<li>Teacher's are more approachable.</li>
<li>There are a lot of resources and facilities for learning. The research labs are well equipped and new ideas bring in new funds to get new equipment.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">No caste based reservations. There are a lot of scholarships though for the "minority" communities which help them pay the fees, but seriously nobody is denied an opportunity because of the caste or community that the person belongs to. </li>
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Maybe it is unfair to generalize based on my own individual experience. After all our country has given rise to so many people who are considered successful and geniuses in their respective fields. I would like to point out that there are an even greater number of people who did not become successful because of the same system. No system is perfect, but every system can be made better. Instead of living in denial, we should be accepting the flaws and working towards improving it. And we, as students are also equally to blame. I would be blunt and say that as students we rarely cared about learning. If we did, we would have complained against teachers who did not teach, we would have tried to do our homework ourselves instead of copying from various sources. We just cared about getting a good grade, a good degree and a good job at the end of it just so that we can display it to the world as an indicator of our worth. Hardly anybody in India does engineering because he or she wants to be an engineer. The most common reasons are that an engineering degree helps to get a plum job or that their parents forced them to or that it helps the guys to get a bigger sum in dowry (sad, but true) when they get married. If the students themselves lack any passion for learning, can we really blame the teachers for not wanting to teach them?</div>
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Most of the Indians that I know here want to go back to India eventually. The main question is, does India want them to come back? Everybody wants to contribute to a positive change, but before that the system has to change to allow them to contribute.</div>
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I just realized that this blog post has turned into more of a rant than a structured argument. I have long wanted to write about these things but never came round to it. Some people may disagree with my arguments and that is totally fine since everybody has a right to their opinion. My opinion has been based on my experiences so far. Everybody's journey is different and hence the travel is different. Will be back with the fiction next time... :) </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2502849115572129650.post-88419126733460813812014-01-19T15:49:00.001-08:002014-01-19T15:49:39.108-08:00Drawn Into a Shell<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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What a relief it was to be finally back home on a hot summer day. Rina was pleased to have the cool sensation of getting into an air-conditioned house from the furnace that was outside. It was a Friday evening and she had the entire weekend to look forward to now. But more importantly, she was excited about the party that she was hosting that night. A few of her college friends were in town and it was a kind of get together for all of them. It would be great, meeting your friends after 4 long years. How nice it would be to behave like college kids again!</div>
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"I am glad you are back. It was getting lonely here." said Rohan from the kitchen.</div>
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"Yes, I am back little brother. But we have less time. We need to prepare fast for tonight's party." </div>
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"You have to prepare, don't include me."</div>
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"Why do you have to behave like an asshole every time Rohan? Try and enjoy yourself for a change. It would be fun, I guarantee you. You will like these people. Even our cousin Atul is coming. And weren't you just saying that you were feeling lonely?"</div>
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"You know I don't like meeting people. Why do you always try to force me to? You have a good time with your friends, I will try to enjoy myself in my room." Rohan went into his room and locked the door.</div>
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How she wished she could get him out of his shell. Ever since their parents had died in that terrible car crash, Rohan had withdrawn completely from the world. Rina was in her final year of college and the trauma had taken its toll on both of them. She took up a job and along with it the responsibility of caring for her younger brother who would not talk much since. However much she tried, she could not get him to talk about what he was going through. She was suggested to try psychiatric help, but Rohan refused violently and she decided it was best to try herself. With his constantly changing moods, their extended family also kept their distance from them. Even though Rina was protective of her brother and would not abandon him at any cost, she also yearned for a social life outside of the house. She would not date fearing how that would affect Rohan's condition. That was one of the reasons she had organized the party, the other being trying to get Rohan to socialize a bit. The latter part would not be so easy, she realized now.</div>
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***</div>
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Everybody came home by 8 pm. Atul had called to inform Rina that he would be a bit late since he was stuck in a traffic jam. Clinton, Samir, Prerna and Tanvi arrived together loaded with booze and snacks and it looked all set to be a great night.</div>
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"You have no idea how good it feels to see all of you after so long. Man, we have a lot to catch up on." Rina said, welcoming them into her modest home.</div>
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"Anything for some drinks and free food, Rina. Smell's good and my appetite is even better." said Clinton. </div>
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"Still the same forever hungry man, eh Clint? Haven't grown up yet?" asked Prerna. </div>
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"Why change perfection?" Clinton replied with that mischievous smile.</div>
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"Yeah right. An engineering graduate who is now singing full time in city clubs. How perfect is that?" Samir asked.</div>
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"At least it is more perfect than doing MBA after engineering and then sitting in a bank counting money."</div>
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"Guys, if you are done with your bickering, our host is also present here." Tanvi turned to Rina. "How have you been girl?"</div>
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"Not too bad actually. The new job is keeping me a bit busy these days, but things are way better now."</div>
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"I remember how bad it was after the accident." Prerna held Rina's hand. "You have come a long way, and you did it all on your own. How about we drink to that now, eh?"</div>
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The bottles were popped open and everybody relaxed on the couch and chairs with their glasses.</div>
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"Is it just us or are we expecting more people too?" asked Samir.</div>
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"Well, its us, and my cousin Atul who stays a few kilometers away. He would be a bit late since he is stuck in a jam. The city traffic is too horrible."</div>
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"Remember the time when we were caught riding triple on Prerna's scooty? How innocent we had acted with the cops and got away with just a warning."</div>
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"Thats right Tanvi. You girls have an advantage over guys where that is concerned. Just imagine if the same had happened to us. Damn, my guess is we would have to pay double the fine. And they say that women are oppressed in this country."</div>
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"Hey you have a brother too right Rina? What is he doing now?"</div>
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"What do I know. He has become a recluse since that accident. Right now he is sitting in his room doing God alone knows what. I will try getting him out."</div>
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Rina kept her glass on the table and knocked Rohan's door. There was no response.</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
She opened it and went inside. He was lying on the bed covered in a blanket. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Hey are you sleeping?" she asked him gently.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"No I am dancing." Rohan snapped back.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"You don't have to be rude every time, you know" </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Why do you ask stupid questions every time?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"My friends are sitting outside, and they were asking for you, so I just thought I will call you."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Tell them I am not here."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Atul knocked on the door of Rina's apartment. Not that late, he thought, considering the traffic that he was stuck in. The door was opened by an unfamiliar person.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Is Rina there?" he asked.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Yeah, she is inside. You must be Atul right? I am Clinton." </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Atul shook hands and entered the house.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Somebody care to put this ice cream in the freezer? I hope it has not fully melted yet. Horrible jam it was. Nothing moving for miles together."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Can understand." said Tanvi, taking the ice cream from Atul. "Rina was just telling us that you got delayed because of that."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Why are you hell bent on embarrassing me</i> <i>in front of everybody. Why does it hurt you so much just to come out and say hello?</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The sound was coming from inside. Everybody's attention turned to the door.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Why is it that every single time I have to plead and yell my head off trying to convince you and you don't give a damn? I too need a break sometimes. You always think about yourself. Why won't you consider meeting other people, maybe for a few minutes, if it would make me happy and bring a smile on my face?</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Atul brushed aside everybody and went to the room. The door was closed.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>"</i>Rina open the door. Its me Atul."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>"</i>I am sorry for shouting Atul. But Rohan is once again acting like an ass."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"You open the door. I will talk to him."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The door opened and a flustered Rina came out. Her hair was mangled and there were tears all over her face.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Why does he have to do this everytime, Atul?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Atul hugged her tight.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"You need to lie down a bit now. Take your pills and sleep. Don't worry about anything. I will take care of your friends. You just rest."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Atul took a sip of the drink. It made him feel warm.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Whats between Rina and her brother?" Samir asked.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Its a tough thing to explain. When the past comes to haunt you, its very difficult to identify it. It comes in various forms and you don't know when it hits you."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"I don't get you." Prerna said.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Let me try to explain. What do you guys know about the accident in which Rina lost her parents?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"We know that it was a car crash and the fuel tank of their car caught fire and her parents were burnt to death. Rina was in college with us and it was very hard on her."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Did you also know that her brother, Rohan was in the car with them?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"What? So that means he survived the crash? He saw his own parents getting burnt?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"No, he didn't."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"He didn't see his parents burn?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"No. I mean he did not survive the crash."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
*** </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i> </i></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2502849115572129650.post-44187983979279418342013-06-28T16:52:00.000-07:002013-06-28T16:52:26.387-07:00The Termite in the Wood<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Jerry was lying on his bed, filled with dread and anticipation of what was coming. He hated it when his mother was away from home, not because he felt lonely, but because he would be left all alone with his stepfather. Light streaked into his room as the door opened and the big man entered. Instinctively, Jerry's legs folded upwards and he held them tightly in a fetal position. He was shivering. The big man came and sat beside Jerry's bed.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>"Are you feeling cold, my boy?"</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Jerry curled up even tighter.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>"Don't worry, your mother will be home by tomorrow evening. Till then I will take good care of you."</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>He stroked Jerry's hair. The shivering increased as the hand moved slowly from the head to his back. He patted his back for several moments.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>"Do you want to come with me into my room, boy?" he asked Jerry. A few tears rolled down Jerry's cheeks. The big man gently lifted the shivering child and took him to his room.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>********</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Robert let out a huge sigh of relief as he finished pitching the tent. It was a long hike through the hill and forest and they had reached the water hole at last after walking for close to five hours. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Victor was a young and athletic man who could give any fitness freak a run for their money. Robert liked Victor ever since he had interviewed him for an analyst position for his finance company. This guy had a tremendous amount of confidence and energy. Robert had predicted that if Victor could channelize his passion and zeal properly, then he was sure to go places. Under Robert's mentoring, Victor blossomed into an asset for the firm and was now indispensable for them. Robert wanted to share some good news with Victor, but wanted to do it informally before making the actual public announcement. He invited Victor for a hiking cum hunting trip in this popular water-hole where he planned to break the news while gathering some good game.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Victor put down the tools and laid himself down on the cool ground of the forest.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"This is what I call a job well done, boss."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"That's what you get when you have the perfect blend of experience and youth."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"You call yourself old, boss? Sometimes I feel older than you." </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Stop buttering me kid. You don't need to. I wanted to discuss something important with you. But before that get a couple of beers from the icebox first. Both of us can afford to relax now."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Victor went inside the tent where they had kept the icebox, and pulled out two cans of beer.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"So you said you wanted to discuss something important with me?" Victor asked as the liquid spread warmth in their bodies.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Yes. What have you thought about your future Victor? Where do you want to go from here?" Robert asked.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Well, as of now I don't feel like going anywhere away from this beautiful place. But once our stocks get over, I guess both of us will have to go back to the city."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"I was talking about your career, kid."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"I know, boss. I don't keep any long term plan, you know. As long as I can pay my bills and feed my family and enjoy the work I do, I guess I would be happy."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"What do you think about being a partner in the firm?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Are you kidding me boss? I have been with you for just six years. There are people who have been there longer."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Yes, there are many more experience people. But none are as innovative or energetic as you. I don't want the company that I built to stagnate. I can only take it so far, I need someone who has the will and passion to take it even higher. And I think I know who that someone is."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Woah. I mean, it really feels great that you feel like that, boss. If you think I can do it, then maybe I can. Cheers to you!"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"And another news is that the papers are all ready and signed back in the office. We just need to make the announcement. So, cheers to you!"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The beer cans clanged together.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"You know, boss, my mother would have been really proud. I miss her so much."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Yes she would be. I can assure you that she is very proud of you right now, wherever she is. You never talk much about your family, do you? I mean in the past six years, this is the first time I have heard you talking about her. What about your father?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"I lost my father when I was a little kid. My mother married another man after that. He is still living, but not for long."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"What do you mean? He's got some ailment or something?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"No boss, he is pretty fit and fine."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Victor picked up a piece of wood lying next to him.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"You know, boss, wood has always fascinated me. I mean, this is a natural organic thing, but it still remains so strong even if the living thing it was a part of is long dead. And it remains strong until you allow it to remain strong."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"I can't see the point you are trying to make." Robert said.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"The point is, we are like this wood. We can remain strong even if the soul is dead. We still remain alive. But then we all have the termites inside us. These termites eat us from inside. They sap whatever strength we have left and leave us brittle."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Is it you talking or the beer talking? I still don't understand what you are trying to say."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"It is neither Victor, nor the beer talking, boss. It is a little kid called Jerry, whose soul was ripped apart twenty five years back."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Robert looked at Victor with shock. But before he could say anything, the block of wood landed on his face and he fell unconscious.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When he regained consciousness, it was night and a bright moon was out. Robert's head hurt very bad from the blow. But that was not the only body part that was hurting him. He was tied to a tree and could not move. He looked down and found his groin filled with blood. There was a letter stuck to his thighs, and the moonlight enabled him to read it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Dear Boss,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>I hope you are feeling great. I hope I have made you as comfortable as you made me many years back. The Jerry in me died a long time back, thanks to you. I ran away from home that time so that Jerry could die and Victor could be born. By now you must have discovered that the tools you used to destroy Jerry have gone missing and it is all a bloody mass left there. I do hope that the animals of the forest like the taste of your blood. Your tools have been strategically placed to help them find their meal for the night.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Thank you so much for all the guidance that you have provided Victor, the result of which I am now a partner in the firm that YOU created. But a partner is someone who shares ownership with another person right? But what if the other person is lying in the belly of some wild animal? I guess the partner can become the owner.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Thank you for your faith in me. I hope I have returned you the favor.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>As a parting note, if you ever get born again, which I definitely hope not, I hope that your soul remembers this lesson and does not become a termite for another Jerry.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Regards,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Your once-upon-a-time stepson,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Jerry</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>******</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Note: This story is not fully original and is based somewhat on a short story titled "Triangle" written by Jefferey Deaver in his book "Twisted".<i> </i></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2502849115572129650.post-68491725585751079162013-06-22T12:33:00.001-07:002013-06-22T12:33:16.773-07:00I Was Only Having a Gulaab Jamun<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So I just happened to take a look at my blog the other day, and found some fungus developing. Right now the stories for the blog have kind of taken a back seat since I am exploring another aspect, i.e converting the stories into a visual form. I have no idea if I can do a good or even a decent job for it, but I have always dreamed of trying it out one day. So while I try my hand at it, I just thought of sharing a small story/article I had written a few years back. Hopefully the point I want to make can go through.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="mbl notesBlogText clearfix" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span><div>
Dear Ma,<br />
<br />
I
really miss you. I wanted to meet you so badly today, to share the news
that I had topped my 5th standard class. I was so happy, and I know you
would have been too. I wanted to hug you the moment I saw my report
card. I felt like talking to you at that time, but I know we cannot
afford a phone right now. I promised myself that I would, one day become
a big man, someone successful and drive away our poverty. I would
become a doctor/engineer and then you would not have to clean other
people's houses or wash their dishes. I would build us a new house and
you would live like a queen. I won't let Baba come inside the house. Let
him go and drink himself to death. I would be big and I would stop him
from hurting you anymore. We would be so happy, just you and me away
from all worries and strife.<br />
<br />
I was really happy Ma. Dinu
got the second rank and we decided to go to have some sweets to
celebrate. I know you had told me to come straight home Ma, but I was so
happy that I really felt like eating something sweet and I knew that
you would be tired after your chores to prepare something. I was also
going to bring you some. I had saved all the pocket money you had
managed to give me. We had gone to a mithai-wala near the railway
station where there is always a crowd. You remember that place Ma? We
had gone there to buy me new shoes when I had joined school. We were
just eating Gulab Jamun Ma, me and Dinu. We weren't troubling anybody.
Everybody was so happy. But then why???????<br />
<br />
Why did they
blast us Ma? I never hit them or took any of their stuff, then why did
they take my life away from me? I just wanted to grow up and do
something to make you proud. I wasn't going to hurt anybody. All my
dreams have crashed and all your aspirations have gone with the smoke.
What did we do to deserve such a fate Ma? Why was I killed when as you
say, there are many bad people in this world who hurt others, why
weren't they hurt or killed? All the people there looked happy. You
always said God loves his children especially those who live happily and
do not hurt others. God loved me when I got my report card, so why did
he suddenly hate me when I was celebrating just that Ma?<br />
<br />
I
am sorry Ma. I am sorry because I did not listen to you and did not
come straight home. I am sorry because I won't be now able to fulfill all
those promises of happiness that I made to you. I am sorry because I
won't be able to stop Baba when he hits you. Will you forgive me, Ma?<br />
<br />
Yours lovingly,<br />
<br />
One of the souls of the victims of 13/7/2011 blasts</div>
</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2502849115572129650.post-55571560606418065842013-03-21T21:58:00.000-07:002013-03-21T21:58:26.368-07:00I Have a Dream!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
I had a dream yesterday night.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It was dark and my both hands were tied to poles on either side. They were tied too tightly. I could not move them. My feet were bound together, so I could not move them either. It was a cold night and I was stark naked without any piece of cloth to cover any part of my body. I felt vulnerable. I was struggling with all the strength that I had, but it was of no use. And then they came....</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I don't know who they were. They were fully covered in dark grey coats. I could not see their faces because they were covered in hoods. There were three of them menacingly coming towards me. I tried to scream, but one of them covered my mouth. They smelled bad. I had a sudden urge to vomit. The others started exploring my body, touching me where I did not want to be touched. I felt like a tiny pebble in the sea, rolling away with the wave, having no control over where I was going. They took a black cloth and blindfolded me. Now I could only feel their horrible presence, not see. One of them said that they can experiment on me. The others laughed, I could feel their happiness as any sense of control that was left in me was being taken away. They took a rod and inserted it in my rectum. I scream, but the scream never left my mouth. I was gagged. The rod went deeper, cutting through me as it went. My body was being damaged, why, I don't know. But it wasn't the bodily damage that hurt more. It was the feeling of helplessness where I wanted to resist but wasn't able to that was worse. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I woke up suddenly with my face full of sweat and my heart beating very fast. It took me a while to realize that it was all a dream and that my body was still intact. A few gulps of water helped calm down my pulse and I slept again.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Now just this dream was enough to shake me up and make me write about it. But recently this ghastly dream was a reality to a poor girl in Delhi, the nation woke up, but very soon went back to sleep. After all who has the time to ponder upon the problems of the common man!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A few days back I was disturbed by the attention given by the media to the suicide case of the main accused in the infamous Delhi rape. A suicide by a self-confessed culprit woke up our so-called leaders to set up "inquiry" commission to look into these "security lapses". It is with great sadness that I note that a similar prompt action was lacking when a common human being was brutally raped and murdered. I won't even call it murder, it was much worse. I will equate this to the inhuman crimes committed by Nazis and Japanese military during WWII. Am I exaggerating?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Our media also conveniently forgets the main issues that need to be highlighted, and our news channels are now bombarded with discussions on whether Rahul Gandhi will remain a bachelor for the rest of his life. Has the media forgotten the power it has to change the nation? It did not forget this power when they brutally followed up the Jessica Lal murder case and proved to the country that even if witnesses turn hostile and powerful people are accused, our Judiciary can still work. Can we expect a similar commitment for a powerful anti-rape law that would enforce stricter punishments?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It is a fact that the law alone cannot change the attitude of the country. Only when each and every one of us pictures himself/herself as the victim, will the things take turn for the better. I read a very nice conversation on social media about a guy telling his female friend about his experience in a taxi ride which he shared with a homo-sexual male. The co-passenger was touching him in a manner which he felt uncomfortable. The female friend then calmly explained that that was what all women go through each and every day. Every man is either totally harmless or a potential rapist. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In a way I feel it is good that the brave girl (aptly named Nirbhaya by our media) did not survive this ordeal. Consider the scenario if she had. The society would practically ostracize her for being a victim. Even if her family supported her, the society would make sure that she is reminded of her trauma each and every moment of her remaining life. This would keep going till either she turns mad or commits suicide. Nobody keeps reminding the culprit that he was a perverted loser who felt that this was the only way he could show that he was more powerful. Nobody refuses to hang out with the rapists after they have committed the crime. Sadly it is just the opposite with the victims.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Apart from this dream that shook me up, I have another dream which I dream every single moment. I dream that one day I would be able to walk any street in my country without fear of getting robbed or murdered. I dream that one day, everybody will realize that you receive only as much respect as you give, that life is too short to spend it hating anybody. I dream that one day, all of us would realize our true potential and achieve the greatness that has been long denied to us.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So at the end of another rant, I bid adieu to all those who managed to read till the end. May be one day we all would be truly safe and happy! </div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2502849115572129650.post-16714741115942921572013-02-10T19:00:00.000-08:002013-02-10T19:00:09.225-08:00Little Karen<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Jane had woken up very early that day. After all, it was her Karen's first day at school and she wanted everything to be perfect. A single unmarried mother, Jane had come a long way since her boyfriend abandoned her after she was pregnant. Outcast from her family, she had to fend for herself, and for her child. The world is a harsh place for anybody to live on their own, and being a pregnant woman, Jane had learnt it the hard way. And she had fought the odds and won. Taking care of Karen along with doing the odd jobs for survival had robbed Jane of her youth, but she had no regrets. The faintest smile and the smallest chuckle from her little daughter was more than sufficient to drown all the weariness that she felt. They had carved their own lives together, Jane and Karen. A little world for themselves which none of the wolves outside could penetrate. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
No, she wasn't going to let the bad memories of the days gone by to spoil this day. Her Karen had now grown up and would be taking her first step into the outside world without her mother for the first time. Nothing should spoil this day, for this was their day. Karen was very excited about going to school. Since Jane kept Karen with herself most of the time, Karen didn't really have many friends of her own. She was looking forward to meeting other people of her age and making friends. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As she readied Karen for her big day, Jane marveled at her creation. Hardly a few years ago, she would not have thought this to be possible. Some days she had to go without food which was very hard to get considering her meagre income. There was this constant fear that they would not survive their ordeal. The nagging guilt that she was not able to provide her daughter with the basic necessities in the most formative years of her life. But the bad time had passed. From crashing at one friend's place to another, now they had rented their own little apartment, a home they could call their own. Jane had a steady job which paid her enough to live comfortably. She had finally proved to the big bad world, and more so to herself, that she could survive on her own. That a single woman outcast by her own society could survive, and survive well.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Jane walked with Karen the small distance between their home and the school. Karen held her mother's finger with her tiny hand and walked along. The excitement was apparent in her footsteps. Her eyes were brightly lit up and she was looking forward to meeting new people. The air was cool, the sun was out and it was a perfect day. Jane looked down at her chirpy daughter and a tear went down her cheek. Maybe this is what happiness really was.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
They stood together outside the classroom. It was finally time to say goodbye for a few hours. For the very first time, Karen would be without her mother or any familiar face for a few hours. As the excited Karen let go of her mother's hand, Jane felt an emptiness around her. Would her child be alright without her looking over? More so, would Jane be able to manage without those tiny fingers curled around her finger? Suddenly she did not want Karen to leave. School can wait a few months more. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The teacher came over to Jane and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"She would be just fine. Don't you worry." said the teacher.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Going against her maternal instincts, Jane turned around and walked out. The tears were increasingly becoming uncontrollable. This was not correct she felt. Something was terribly wrong. Her heart pulled her back, but the brain urged her to walk away. Is she old enough to be on her own, albeit for a few hours?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The weather had changed. It was cloudy outside now. There was a gloomy feel to the entire climate. It was just not right. Wasn't this supposed to be her happiest day? Even the weather gods weren't helping cheer her up. There was a loud clap of thunder. It sounded more like a gun-shot. Then there was another, and somehow the clouds were all too excited. Too many thunders all around. Or were they really thunders? Why was it not raining when there were so many thunders. Did thunders really sound so much like gun fire?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Jane turned around and looked back at the school. All she saw were screaming children running out in total chaos. She yelled Karen's name and ran towards the building but strong hands held her back, not letting her go to her Karen and rescue her.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Control yourself Jane, let us get you inside now." someone said.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But Jane was not going to relent so easily. Her Karen was in grave danger.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Come on Jane, it's about to rain now. The time for outdoor activity is over." they repeated.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The two pairs of strong hands lifted her off the ground and carried her inside the building. The mental health care facility was a big place and they had to walk for several minutes till they reached her room where she was sedated and allowed to sleep. Next to her bed, on the table was a newspaper clipping which read<i> </i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>"Twenty children and six adult staff members killed in a shooting incident. A twenty year old man carrying a gun trespassed into the school premises and began shooting randomly .................. "</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><br /></i></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2502849115572129650.post-59157433157191990802012-11-22T22:43:00.000-08:002012-11-23T08:27:22.774-08:00The Day I First Met Her<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<br />
I was waiting for the bus that day. The sun beating down, and a few drops of sweat trickling down my face. It was one of those usual boring days. I checked my watch. The bus would be arriving any time now. Little did my bored self know then that that day would change my life forever.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Excuse me, could you tell me what time it is?" I heard a voice say. I looked back at her and I felt my heart skip a beat. Never before had I seen anybody as beautiful.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Hello, I am asking you for the time." she repeated.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I gathered my senses.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"It is almost 8:30 am." I replied. "You waiting for a bus?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"No, I am waiting for a plane at a bus stop. What are you, an old man?" she snapped.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"I was just trying to make conversation. Sorry for bothering you." </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I felt bad. The first meeting with this lady was not going well. Better luck next time, I told my heart.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The bus arrived soon and both of us got on to it. I was slightly quicker and manage to grab a seat. She came and stood next to my seat. I looked up at her just to catch her stern gaze back. I felt sheepish and took out the newspaper from my bag and began reading it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"You are totally shameless, aren't you?" she said softly.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Pardon me. How could you just say something like that?" I asked her. This was getting annoying.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"A lady is going towards a seat and you just come and grab it shamelessly. Don't you have any manners?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I got up.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Ok. Just have it and shut up. I don't need to listen to nonsense early in the day."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
She sat on my seat with a smile and I went to the other end of the bus. I was boiling inside. How could anybody call me shameless? </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I glanced towards her and she smiled back at me. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Why? Why do beautiful women have such lovely smiles? </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I tried looking away in another direction, but my gaze always ended up in hers. After about five minutes, the person sitting next to her got up as his destination had come. Smiling beauty looked at me and gestured me to take the now vacant seat. My mind was being torn apart. One part of it wanted to go and sit next to her, the other part was too insulted to accept the invitation. Obviously the first part won the contest and I ended up being seated next to her.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"I am sorry for being rude earlier." She said, flashing that smile which was diminishing my ego continuously.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Is this sarcasm or honesty speaking?" I asked cautiously. I did not want to get insulted again.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Take it as a simple sorry. I know I have behaved badly with you and want to apologise. I am Deepa." She extended her hand.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Apology accepted. I am Rakesh. So may I know the reason behind your attitude, if you don't mind? Just curious since I have been at the receiving end of it since morning."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"You can call it just plain frustration. Things haven't been going my way you know."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Such as?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Such as, my alarm did not go off in the morning which made me skip breakfast in order to catch the bus on time. I ask you the time since I forgot my watch at home and you stare dumbly at me. I get into the bus finally and you grab the sole available seat before me. And work pressures to top that. Who can be in a good mood after that?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Me staring dumbly at you? You seriously gotta be kidding me." I said.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Don't worry, I usually have that effect on guys and I am used to it. And before you get any ideas, let me tell you that I am already married."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"No issues. I'm not interested in dating you, though I must say you are very beautiful and your husband is one lucky guy."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"I wish he would remember that. May be you can tell him if you happen to meet him. He is very forgetful, you know. So where do you work?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Still looking for a job actually. I have a degree in journalism and have done a few itsy bitsy pieces here and there. I have an interview with the Times in about two hours, hoping to crack something there. What about you?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Now you have to be joking. Are you sure you haven't been stalking me?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"What do you mean? I was waiting at the bus stop first, remember?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"I am assistant to the chief editor in Times and I am headed the same way. So here's the deal. I will buy some breakfast for both of us and then we can go to the office together. Let me complete my apology that way."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Now this was too good to be true. This beautiful woman was asking me to have breakfast with her and she worked at the same place that I was going for an interview. Two birds in one shot?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We reached our destination and headed to a nearby cafe. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"I am really hungry." She said. " What will you be having? A coffee I guess, with maybe some upma? They make it really well here."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"You seem to know my taste very well. Perfect suggestion." I smiled back. Coffee and upma was actually my favourite combination. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
"I guess I should, the same way I know how to irritate you." she replied.<br />
<br />
"What do you mean you should know?"<br />
<br />
"Forget it."<br />
<br />
Just then the waiter came and took the order.<br />
<br />
We were sitting next to the window of the cafe and the morning sun was streaking in from it right across her face. A cool breeze was blowing that blew her hair softly. With a gentle motion of her fingers, she brushed the loose strands of hair aside and smiled at me.<br />
<br />
"You really like me, don't you?" she asked.<br />
<br />
"Why do you ask me that? We have just met." I replied.<br />
<br />
Her eyes filled up for a split moment and she recovered her composure quickly. The food arrived soon and she busied herself into eating.<br />
<br />
"Let me change the topic. Since you were late, why didn't your husband drop you?"<br />
<br />
"I wish he would just remember he has a wife for a change. Maybe I should have married you instead."<br />
<br />
"What the hell are you saying? It isn't funny if this is your idea of a joke."<br />
<br />
"Rakesh, don't do this again please. Don't you remember anything?" Those tears were back again and this time she made no effort to hide them.<br />
<br />
"What do you mean?" This was getting weird.<br />
<br />
"Don't you remember this place? This was where I took you so many years back when we met for the first time to apologise for being rude. Try to remember Rakesh, please make an effort."<br />
<br />
"I think I am having enough of this nonsense. Thank you for the meal, I think I should be going for the interview now."<br />
<br />
"Look at yourself Rakesh. Just have a look in the mirror. Do you even think you are young enough for an interview?"<br />
<br />
Ironically there was a mirror right across where I was standing. I looked into it. Was my hair really white? Did I actually have those wrinkles on my face?<br />
<br />
"Yeah, look into that mirror. Look into it the way you have been looking in it for the past few months. Neither are you going for an interview, nor am I working at the Times. I have been your wife for the past 54 years. I know the ailment is eating your memory, but try to remember something please!"<br />
<br />
A sharp pain emerged in my head. Everything looked too bright, so much that I could not keep my eyes open. I closed my eyes. The pain kept on increasing and it spread to the rest of my body which could not hold me any longer. I fell on the floor grabbing my head with both hands. Images were flooding in my brain. A much younger me graduating from college. Me receiving the best journalist award. Me looking into the eyes of my newly-wed bride. Me holding the tiny hands of a baby girl, my daughter. It was too much to bear. I tried opening my eyes, everything was blurred. I could make out Deepa leaning over me telling me to hold on. Those eyes were familiar. I had seen them on my wedding day. I could make out some white clothed men holding me up and taking me somewhere. Somebody held my palm, and this time I did not need anybody telling me who it was.<br />
<br />
"Deepa......... " my voice trailed off.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
********************************** </div>
<br />
<br />
It was a normal day. I woke up early in the morning and made myself some light breakfast. I had an interview that day and I wanted to reach the office before time to make a good first impression. As usual, I walked to the bus stop and was waiting for the bus, when a hand tapped my shoulder and asked,<br />
<br />
"Excuse me, could you tell me what time it is?"<br />
<br />
I looked back at her and I felt my heart skip a beat. Never before had I seen anybody as beautiful. </div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2502849115572129650.post-89161016836661310832012-08-27T22:58:00.001-07:002012-08-28T10:22:37.155-07:00Outside the Comfort Zone<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
This blog of mine has been
neglected too much. If it was a wife, then I would have been divorced long
back. But thankfully blogs are much better, they remain faithful and as they
were when you last saw them. So what was I up to?? Nothing much, other than
packing as much stuff as I could into as many suitcases as I could hope to
carry on an international flight. Taking as much of my country with me as an
airline would allow me to. And as expected, it wasn’t enough. Once reaching
Arizona, I was getting adjusted to the arid and hot weather, the usual
apartment hunting tensions and once everything was done, I was busy having a
gala time with all the university welcome events which are like almost
everyday.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
So, if I am enjoying myself so
much, where did I find the time to attend to this blog of mine? My relationship
with my blog has been a typical one that a person has with their
boyfriend/girlfriend. There’s the initial excitement at discovering something
new, then you show people what you have, and enjoy the sight of their awestruck
faces (a bit exaggerated), you take in the compliments and ignore the
criticism. Then comes the stage where you are comfortable with it and get used
to it. There isn’t anything new to discover. So you start neglecting it, and
when you are at your loneliest, it again comes to your rescue. I love my blog,
maybe because I may have poured so much of myself into it, more than I have
done with any person. So here I am, whether I like it or not, posting once
more, hopefully for the better. And no, I still haven’t come up with a story
but hopefully the block would pass and I would be back with the usual fiction.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Getting used to another country,
a totally different culture has been a real adventure. Some of the old
followers of this blog might recall one of my earlier post titled <a href="http://ashwinverleker.blogspot.com/2010/04/cast-away.html" target="_blank">Cast Away</a>,
where I had posted about my first experience away from home into a hostel. It
is the post closest to my heart since it was all totally true and heartfelt.
Today I am writing a similar one, but this time the person writing it is 6
years older than what he was during Cast Away, and this decision of going far
away from home to pursue my dreams has been a calculated one and wasn’t hurried
like that time.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
So how is USA? That’s the first
thing people ask me. I say it is a really good place. I see more discipline
here as compared to my own home country. The people are more well-mannered and
polite. No job is a shameful job here. For example, the maintenance guy in my
apartment complex owns a car and drives down to Las Vegas every weekend, and
cleans the swimming pool, sweeps the complex, does the repair work in the
apartments during the weekdays. The people here take their job seriously.
Another thing I really admire here is the traffic discipline. I have rarely
heard a car honking even in the most horrible traffic jam. In a jam, there’s a
difference of at least 4 metres between every car, unlike in India where a jam
means all cars are sticking their noses up the front car’s rear end.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Now that doesn’t mean that I
don’t miss my country. I do. I miss the utter chaos, I miss the crowds and
obviously I miss the food. Luckily for me, my mother had made sure that all her
children are comfortable in the kitchen and can cook for themselves right from
childhood. It used to feel a real pain to be helping Mom in the kitchen when we
were kids, but I can see, or rather feel the dividends of that training now. In
this country, where we keep converting the dollars into rupees mentally, it is
very difficult to survive without cooking yourself at home. It is way too
expensive to eat outside and even then the food here is not easily digested by
our gut which used to spicy food. There are Indian restaurants but imagine
having to pay $10 for a plate of daal-chawal.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The best thing about staying away
from home is that one learns to appreciate his/her parents. You realize that it
is not easy managing a daily routine all by yourself. But then, our mothers
easily manage the entire family’s routine, don’t they? You realize that keeping
a hold on your expenditure is very difficult, but Dad does it without any
problem right? You realize that your cooking doesn’t taste all that great, but
then you used to crib about your mom’s preparations (not in my case, I was told
right in the beginning that if I crib, I would have to do it all myself). </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
It is very difficult staying all
on your own, even if you are with friends. More so, if you are in a foreign country
where the culture is totally alien. Initially it is the awe that you feel when
seeing something you’ve never seen before. Then is the acceptance stage, where
you decide that you are going to like this place since you are going to be here
for a few years anyway. Next is the homesickness, especially when you start
missing the home-made food, so you dig into the reserves packed into your bags.
Once the reserves finish, then there are the desperate calls home to ask for
simple recipes which don’t turn out as they are supposed to, however much you
try. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
And once all this is past, you
realize that life cannot be more awesome. It’s awesome to be on your own. You
are more willing to take chances and experiment. You are away from your usual
peers, so there is more scope to develop new aspects in your personality
without the fear of being ridiculed. Your horizons are widened; life is calling
you with open arms, with a platter of opportunities laid out for you. Yes, the
entire platter is for you. You may not be able to finish all of it. You have to
choose. And the choice you make would define your entire life. You make
mistakes, you learn from them. Some situations sweep you off your feet, you
learn to retain your balance. You get overwhelmed, but your upbringing gets you
back on track. If not for anything else, I love Christopher Nolan’s Batman
series for one tiny dialogue, which literally defines every human being’s life.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Why do we fall, sir? So that we
could learn to lift ourselves up.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I just read all that I have
written. This makes me wonder, did I really have to leave my country to realize
all this? No, not really. Then it struck me, was it just now that I realized that
life was waiting for me, or had I known it all along, under the mental stacks
of self doubt and low confidence? Yes, I knew that I was destined for something
big, something I may have never imagined when I built my first Hydro-electric
generator at the age of 16. I knew that if I could build something like that
all on my own, I could do whatever I set my mind to. Then came the stage where
I made it to the prestigious NIT. I struggled all those four years. I
discovered myself more through those struggles than any other way. Luckily for
me I had a rock solid family that never let the self doubts go above dangerous
levels, they made me understand that a creature meant for flying should not be
afraid to walk, and this is what has defined me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
As I am at the beginning of
another marvelous phase of my life, a new platter laid out before me, I would
like to tell you all one thing. Somebody who has never tried anything new in
his/her life, somebody who has always been afraid of taking risks, afraid of
falling, that somebody can never support you when you want to take a plunge into
the deep sea. Don’t fear getting hurt, time heals all the wounds. Don’t fear
falling, for there will always be someone to give a hand in case you can get up
yourself. And most importantly, never ever hurt those who are close to you.
Your ego will be forever with you, but it may not be the same with people.
Choose what you value more.</div>
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So at the end of a random post, I
would like to tell you all that I might have thought of a new short story for
the next one. The writer’s block is slowly melting………………………………….</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2502849115572129650.post-56231619863304443852012-07-13T23:54:00.001-07:002012-07-13T23:54:50.586-07:00Rape of Shame<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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"<i>Don't walk alone on the streets, it's not safe."</i></div>
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<i>"Don't wear skirts, you may provoke somebody."</i></div>
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<i>"Don't talk to boys, you may give them wrong ideas."</i></div>
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<i>"Don't speak out your mind, you may be wrongly labelled."</i></div>
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Common sentences, aren't they? These are the instructions given to all females belonging to "respectable" families so that they maintain that "respect" and "honor" of their family. Sometimes it makes me wonder, what do "honor" and "respect" really mean?</div>
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According to wikipedia, honor is an abstract concept entailing a perceived quality of worthiness and
respectability that affects both the social standing and the
self-evaluation of an individual or corporate body such as a family,
school, regiment or nation. In more simpler terms, how you yourself, as well as others perceive you.</div>
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It is common on the papers these days to see at least 2-3 rape or molestation cases daily. These are only the reported ones. There must multiple others which are not published in the media. There would be even scores of others where the victim keeps quiet or rather is forced to accept her fate and close her mouth to uphold this so-called honor of her family. Which leads me to the question which has been bothering me and countless of like-minded people. </div>
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"How is it that the victim of a rape case is dishonored while the perpetrator is still honorable?"</div>
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The mindset has been also fuelled by our film industry. In so many movies we have seen or rather heard the dialogue "<i>Balatkaar se ladki ki izzat loot gayi." ("The girl has lost her honor/respect as she has been raped."). </i>Does that mean the victim of this horrendous crime is responsible for bringing upon herself this fate? Does that mean just because she chooses to dress herself or behave as she deems proper, it gives the perverts out there on the streets the right to sexually assault her? Who's really lost his/her honor here? The person who can't control his sexual desires, or the one who chooses to live the way she wants?</div>
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Many argue that most of the rape cases involve the victim dressing "provocatively", displaying portions of anatomy which are best deemed hidden. Though I don't agree with this point, even if we deem this to be true, how then, do you explain the rapes of children, the minors who haven't even reached the stage of puberty yet, some not even touching 5 years of their lives? What is so "provocative" about a little child, who now would have to grow up with the world around her telling her that she is unclean and dishonored, just because some pervert out there vented his sexual frustration on her.</div>
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The latest shame is the incident that occurred in one of the most busy places of Guwahati in Assam. Just because a girl in her late teens protested against a drunk man filming a video of her friend, she was molested by a group of 20 men in full public view, the proof of which everybody must have seen by now either on the internet or on the news channels. She was groped, slapped and stripped openly and what everybody did was just stand and enjoy the "scene". </div>
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News channels spent hours debating whether the journalist who filmed the entire crime was correct in doing so, making a public show of the girl's plight. But thanks to his presence of mind, all the guilty have been easily identified, their photos have gone viral on facebook and even hoardings have been put up in Guwahati with their faces. While morally it may be wrong to film such a scene, if he hadn't done so, the guilty would have been moving around scot-free while the victim would have deemed as an object of shame by the society.</div>
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A news channel asked the question, <i>"Have we become a nation of onlookers?" </i>Sadly, I have to say yes. When such crimes can happen in the busiest of areas in full public view, and it takes the police 30 minutes to reach the spot after being notified, and a further 4 days before any arrests made, it shows a very sorry state of affairs. One cannot point fingers only at the law enforcers. All the people who stood there watching without moving a muscle are equally guilty. Some people tried to help her (including the journo who filmed it) and were beaten and abused themselves. Still the gut-less public stood and watched. Why?? Because it's not our job to help those in trouble, it is the police's, in the meantime let me watch the show live.</div>
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The power of the internet and websites like facebook and youtube was flexed, and 3-4 days after the incident, the "let-us-condemn-it" virus spread among our "honorable" leaders. So what if the administration does not have the balls to implement the laws, everybody can easily redeem themselves by condemning these incidents.</div>
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<i>"The incident was unfortunate. We condemn it and strong action would be taken."</i></div>
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<i>"It is the rarest of rare cases. We thoroughly condemn it."</i></div>
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<i>"The perpetrators will not go scot free. They will pay for their crime. The public must condemn it."</i></div>
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Now that scientists have discovered the God-particle, it's time they discover the power of condemnation and develop a way where criminals would be punished just by sheer condemnation. Easy and quick way of justice, isn't it? So when the crime is reported, the police can just pick up a phone and call the politicians, who would just utter a statement, <i>"I CONDEMN IT" </i>and whoooshhh....the criminal disappears to the lowest levels of hell.</div>
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I wish things were as simple as that. </div>
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We have become a society with the <i>chalta-hai </i>attitude. It is okay if a third of our MP's have criminal cases including charges of murder and rape against them. But if a victim of a crime chooses to move-on, he/she is pulled back by society and reminded continuously of their fate. We are helpless when it comes to punishing the guilty, but we love to further victimize the victim. Lay all the blame on the victim, after all she brought it on herself, she asked for it.</div>
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To those making irresponsible statements, I would like to ask you, what if it was your mother or sister who was the victim and not some unknown female? Would you have said the same thing?</div>
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As a society, we turn to our leaders for inspiration. And such strong leaders we have. They provide such strong condemnation. Dumb-asses the public are who underestimate the sheer power of condemnation. How can the Singh who is supposed to be the king bother about such trivial cases when he's busy following the orders of his Mem-saab and plotting new ways to screw our economy. How can you expect the elder sister who's occupied by the ghosts of opposition conspiracies and Maoists to have time to look over incidents in Park street? It's tough being leaders you know. But despite their busy schedules, they provide such strong condemnations, isn't that enough?</div>
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Since all the leadership is totally busy, it comes to the police, the protectors of law and order to salvage some pride. C'mon guys, we know that you have it in you to bring the guilty to book. Show some balls, which obviously the "leaders" lack, and punish the criminals. If you can't catch them, when you have full video proof of the crime (mind you, the faces of the criminals are razor sharp in the video) then I feel sad to say that it is of no use paying our taxes so that they can pay you your salaries. I mean, why should I work, so that you can relax?</div>
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Sometimes I feel that the public should be allowed to take law in its own hands. But that would be an irrational option as it can set a very bad precedent. The law takes its own course at a snails pace, but it is one of the few systems in this country that works. It is high time now that the tag of being "dishonored" is shifted from the victim to the criminal. Keep harsh punishments for harsh crimes. A death sentence would be too easy on the criminal. Castrate them and make it public news. Let them be the ones to face humiliation instead of the victim. Let it be a deterrent, so that the next time when a pervert even thinks of raping a female, he should know that what he is about to do can make him lose his balls.</div>
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Now that some of my anger has been vented out, I would like to state that this rant of mine is a result of sheer disturbance that I felt when I saw the news yesterday evening. I am NOT sorry if I have hurt any sentiments, because my own sentiments have been continuously hurt when I read such news daily. If a certain Kapil also wants to censor this, go ahead, we will censor you when the election time comes. Some people need to know that you cannot take the public for granted. Women are responsible for bringing us into this world, and if we cannot learn to respect them, well, we don't deserve a place on this planet.</div>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2502849115572129650.post-1263966571010270382012-05-27T07:25:00.001-07:002012-05-27T07:25:07.314-07:00KIDNAPPED!!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It was 7 am and I was fast asleep. Usually Ma or Papa did the job of waking me up at 6 in the morning to be ready in time for the school bus. Today it wasn't so. Both of them were not at home. Instead, our labrador, Simon woke me up with his wet licks. He wanted his morning biscuits. I saw a note on my table which confirmed my guess about my parents' whereabouts.</div>
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"Sorry Arjun. I had to leave in the middle of the night as Ma had started getting the pains. I will collect you from school and then you would be able to see the baby too, if all goes well. All the best for your last paper. Do well, and then we would enjoy the summer vacation.</div>
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Love,</div>
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Papa</div>
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Thankfully my schoolbag had been packed the previous night. I hastily made myself a sandwich and gobbled it as fast as I could. The bus was to arrive in 15 minutes, so I decided to skip the bath and just washed my face.</div>
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I was just in time for the bus. It was the last paper of my final exams and my favorite subject, Maths. Pretty happy with the way I had written it, I exited the exam hall with a smile on my face, much to the envy of my classmate most of whom had very grim expressions. Now that the exams were over, I felt very light as I waited at the school gate where Papa would come to pick me up. I waited for half an hour, but he didn't arrive. Papa was never usually late. What would I do if he didn't come? Or even worse, forgot to come? An 8 year old boy couldn't walk for 5 kms and I had already missed the bus to wait here. Was the baby so beautiful that he had forgotten me totally? My friend Suresh had told me the other day that once a younger child is born, the parents tend to ignore the older one. Was this the beginning of the end?</div>
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Just then, a black Qualis stopped right in front of me and a man wearing dark glasses emerged from it. He had a thick moustache and broad shoulders.</div>
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"You must be Arjun Naik, right?" he asked me.</div>
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I nodded meekly. Ma always said that I must never talk to strangers or eat anything that they give.</div>
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"Your father sent me to pick you up. Come on, get into the car. He is waiting for you."</div>
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He seemed to be a friendly person. He even took my bag and placed it in the car. I climbed on to the rear seat. The windows were tinted and closed. The man sat on the driver seat, closed his door and pressed a button which locked all the doors. He took out his mobile and made a call.</div>
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"Yeah, I've got him. See you soon." Through the rear-view mirror, I could see him smile. I noticed that his teeth were stained dark.</div>
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"You don't mind me putting on some music, do you?"</div>
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I shook my head. He started the car and soon we were wading through the city traffic. The windows of the vehicle were tinted dark. My mind wandered off, and I just realised that nobody could see the inside of the car from outside, and I didn't even know who this man or what his name was.</div>
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<i>Never take a lift from a stranger or take anything to eat from them unless I or Ma is around. </i>Papa had once told me. Had I committed a mistake by sitting in this car? But he said he knew Papa, right? I felt a chill inside me.</div>
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The man lit up a cigarette and began puffing smoke.</div>
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"You must be pretty hungry. I only have a bar of chocolate for you." He said.</div>
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My brain refused, but my rumbling stomach made my hand reach hout and take it from him. Here, I had broken another of Papa's rules. But how could I refuse chocolate? I ate in silence.</div>
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"You don't talk much." He said, puffing some more smoke. "It's a 1 hour drive and would be pretty boring in silence."</div>
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1 HOUR DRIVE!! But my house was hardly 5 kms away.</div>
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"Aren't we going home?" I asked him.</div>
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"Yes, we are." He chuckled, displaying those nicotine stained teeth. "We are going to my home, not yours."</div>
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"Who are you? I want to go to my home!" I was genuinely scared now.</div>
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"Now, now. We don't want to create a scene here, do we? You sit behind quietly there, and we can reach our destination peacefully." His tone was stern.</div>
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I looked around, trying to think of an escape. The windows were shut tight and they were tinted. The doors were locked.</div>
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C'mon, I urged myself. You've read almost the entire set of the Famous Five books. Act like Julian, be calm and think on your feet.</div>
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Very quietly, I reached out and unlocked my door. I pulled the lever that would open the door. Jumping out of a moving car would be preferable than being tortured in a dark room. I pulled the lever, but the door wouldn't open.</div>
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"Kid, you ever heard of something called child lock?" he laughed. I realised he had been watching all the time through the mirror.</div>
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Plan A unsuccessful.</div>
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"Don't you start thinking of an escape now. The repurcussions would be too hard for a child to bear. Sit quietly or I'll have to tie you up."</div>
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That left no scope for Plan B. O God! Why did Papa have to forget today, of all days?</div>
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After about fifteen minutes we turned into a narrow alley. There was garbage strewn on both sides of the road. At the end of it, there was a house. The man drove inside its compound and parked there. He opened my door and clasped my arm with his burly fingers and dragged me inside.</div>
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I wasn't going to give in easily. What would George, the bravest amongst the Five, have done? I bit his hand as hard as I could. He was taken by surprise and his grip loosened. I broke free and ran as fast as my legs could carry me. I didn't know where I would go, but I had to get away from him.</div>
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In my haste, I tripped over a wire lying on the ground and fell hard on the gravel. By the time I recovered, he was standing besides me.</div>
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"You are a tricky little prey. No more games now, I've had enough for today."</div>
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He held my collar and easily lifted me up in the air. I struggled with all my might, but all in vain. He took me dangling thus inside the house. It was dark, and darkness scared me. He opened a room. It was pitch black.</div>
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"You are going to stay here till my demands are met. You play any games, the result would be far worse than skinned elbows."</div>
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He dropped me hard on the floor and went out closing the door behind him. Animals and insects never scared me a bit, but when it came to dark rooms, the fear of the unseen gripped me. Sweat broke out on my forehead and my heart was racing fast.</div>
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HOW CAN I ESCAPE??</div>
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Suddenly, the room was flooded with bright light which blinded me and people screamed. I shielded my eyes with my hands and was shocked to see the scene unfolding before me.</div>
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"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, Happy birthday dear Arjun, Happy birthday to you!!!!!"</div>
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Everybody was there. Ma, Papa, Kaka, everybody. I ran and hugged Papa, tears streaming from my eyes.</div>
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"Where were you? Why didn't you come? I thought I was kidnapped." I cried.</div>
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"My son cannot be kidnapped so easily." Papa said. "And I guess you must have met your Uncle Raghav, my cousin. He has a strange sense of humor, but he is alright. You'll like him once you know him better."</div>
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Raghav came inside the room carrying a cake.</div>
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"Sorry for the scare, little fella. Cut this cake and let's be friends." He smiled at me. Those stained teeth weren't so scary now.</div>
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Papa nudged me.</div>
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"Arjun, I want you to meet someone."</div>
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He took me to where Ma was sitting on a chair, apparently weak and holding a little bundle, he face radiating with a smile.</div>
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I went and had the first look at my little sister.</div>
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May be life won't be so bad after all, I thought as Ma held me tight. Maybe I would even love to share things with her, now that I had managed to share my birthday.</div>
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Moments later, I went ahead and cut the cake, the first of the many more I would cut together with my sist</div>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2502849115572129650.post-10011620104355853072011-12-14T02:41:00.000-08:002011-12-14T20:35:20.506-08:00The Stranger in My Room<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">It was very comfortable. The bed, the pillow, the room. The air-conditioning was set at a comfortably cool level and the fan on the ceiling whirred slowly. Waking up from a really deep sleep, I opened my eyes slowly. The world was a blur around me. I could make out the white walls and assorted tables and chairs around me. I tried to reach out to the nearest table to locate my spectacles, but I could not move. My hands and feet felt tied down.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Where the hell was I?</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">This surely wasn’t my room. There never was an air conditioner in my room and my bed was never so soft. I looked around desperate for some semblance of familiarity, but my myopic eyes failed me as they usually did without my spectacles.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Why am I tied down to this bed? Who has held me captive?</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">All of a sudden I heard footsteps. Out of nowhere, a figure appeared close to me. Despite my myopia, I could make out outlines of objects, though the details were blurred, and this was definitely a male figure. He walked slowly towards me, his footsteps echoing in the room.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“So you woke up at last eh?” he said in a sinister voice.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“Who are you? What am I doing here?” I pleaded.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“Calm down. You will get all your answers in due time. How are you feeling now?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">His calm composure made me angry.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“Oh I am f**king great. What else do you expect? I love being tied down to the bed.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“Tch tch. Still the same foul language. I thought the sleep would have improved you a bit.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“Why have you tied me down?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“Oh, did I tie you down?” He chuckled.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">I summoned all the strength I could muster and struggled to break free my hands. They didn’t move even a millimetre. I was tied too tightly.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“You can struggle all you want. It’s of no use.” He told me, in a voice that was irritatingly calm.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">He came and sat on the chair next to my bed. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“Now stop this silly struggle and let us have a chat.” He lit a cigarette and began blowing the smoke in circles.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“Mr. Sunil Sethi, son of a hotel baron, an MBA degree holder and now about to get married next month. Do I have my facts correct?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">The hell you do, I thought to myself. I nodded in response.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“This girl, your fiancée, Sonali right? Do you love her?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“What does she have to do with all this? Or for that matter, what do I have to do with all that’s happening right now?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“You will understand what is happening and what everyone has to do with it. For the time being, just answer my questions. So do you love her?” He said sternly.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“Yes I do.” I replied.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“In that case, I have some really bad news for you. She is with me now.” He smiled.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">My blood was boiling now.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“You should look at yourself in the mirror.” He laughed. “But I’m serious. We are together in our own small world now, and there is nothing you can do about it.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“What the f**k are you saying? And who the hell are you?” The suspense was killing me.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“Oh, sorry I forgot to introduce myself. I am Sanjay Kadam, clerk in the Post Office. Rather, I was a clerk. Not now, thanks to you!”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“So this is some kind of a revenge for you, is it? Lost your job for some screw up from your end, and now you blame me and kidnap me for ransom from my father. Is that what this is all about?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">He started laughing much to my bewilderment.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“Get down from your high pedestal, rich boy! I don’t want anything from your father or anybody for that matter. I can’t get back what has already been taken away from me. I just wanted to have a chat with you, that’s it. So, how do you feel now that your fiancée is no longer with you?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“I don’t believe you. I don’t need to believe you. I know Sonali and she will never leave me. How do you know about her anyway?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“To be honest, I didn’t know about her till yesterday night. How I wish that night had never come.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“She was with me yesterday night. We had gone to the discotheque together. What are you talking about?” I asked.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“That’s right. Both of you were at the disco together. But what happened AFTER you came out? Don’t you remember anything?” He started blowing more smoke rings.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“We were dancing together, and she pleaded me to stop the booze. After much debate I reluctantly agreed and we came out and I drove her back. Where do you figure in all this?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“Is this what really happened or is this what you think happened? Let me make it easier for you. Do you remember dropping her at her house?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“Listen mister. I was high with all that alcohol. I remember driving back with her, nothing else. And you are saying that she has left me for a post office clerk? Dream on!” A tiny headache was creeping up in my head.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“So you think all this is a joke eh? I’m not laughing and you won’t too very soon. This ego of yours is not funny. Getting drunk that night and making a fool of yourself was not funny. Driving a car in that condition was not funny. Killing me and my entire family was not f**king funny!!”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">He got up from the chair and moved towards the window. My headache peaked as the memory streamed in. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><i>“Drive slow Sunil, please. You’ll hit somebody.” Sonali was saying.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><i>“Don’t worry baby. That bloody Merc driver thinks he can outrun me. Just want to teach him a lesson.” I said as my foot pressed harder on the accelerator.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><i>“Just forget him okay. Please slow down.” She pleaded.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><i>I looked at her. She was looking all flushed.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><i>“Okay sweetheart. For you I will slow down. See, I am taking my foot off the accelerator and placing it on the ............................. “</i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">The conversation was interrupted by a bang. The headache now threatened to split my head. My heart was working extra hard and I could feel my pulse rising.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“Remembered something eh?” he said. “I remember everything. I remember lying down on the road unable to move in the pool of blood. I remember my son calling out to me for help and not being able to respond to him. And I remember watching my wife breathing her last before I did so myself.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“Sonali...” I stuttered. “You said.............”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“Yes, I stand by what I said. She’s in my world now.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Realization dawned on me. I wished I was seeing a bad dream. I wanted to pinch myself, but my hands were unable to move.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">“I think our chat is over now.” He said. “Goodbye, and I sincerely hope you would live this life of regret. Thankfully, I don’t think you would ever be able to drive a car again or kill someone else.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">He placed my spectacles on my face and his outline vanished in thin air. There was nobody in the room. Only the beeping sounds of assorted machines around me. I looked at my arms and legs.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">They weren’t tied up, but however much I tried, I would never be able to move them again. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2502849115572129650.post-1833671129308613682011-11-11T04:59:00.000-08:002011-11-12T03:01:57.144-08:00Sunrise at Dusk<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Hi fellas,<br />
<br />
This time it's a poetic update for the blog. Not that I'm all that great at poems, but this one was an attempt I made during a long and boring train journey. Hopefully you'll like it. :)<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Walking on the beach, his feet pressing the sand,</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>The gentle breeze stroking his hair, brushing his hand</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>So much of loss, his life at stake,</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Lonely by tomorrow, to live for his own sake</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>He steps into the water, waves splash his feet,</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Wasn't this the place, where her did he first meet</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>So long ago, the time seems so far,</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>But now it didn't matter, he would be on par</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Life seemed perfect then, but why didn't it last,</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>They were looking for a future, but now it was all past</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>When amongst the love, did rise the hate,</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Why did she leave him, when he was her soul mate</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>The water rises to his knees, he wants no more,</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Of this life, the false dreams, that left him all sore</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>The ocean called him, it's arms wide spread,</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Nothing was on his side, not even the dread</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>He turns around for the one last time</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>And sees a beauty, much in her prime</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Her hair on her face, kissing her cheeks,</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Hiding the smile charming, which any man seeks</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>The tide's unsafe, she calls out to him,</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>It would take you away, even though you swim</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>As though a magnet, he retreats to her,</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Her concern a magic, his heart feeling lighter</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Each talks to the other, falling to the attraction</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Understanding each other, listening with attention</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>The coffee is over, a new bond is struck,</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>He looks in her eyes, maybe life won't suck</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>The sun sets down, as they again walk the sand,</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Beckoning a new future, together hand-in-hand</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>To give another try, to the vows unfulfilled,</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>The house full of dreams, again they would build</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Cheers, and hopefully I would be back with a proper story the next time :-)</div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2502849115572129650.post-28340136135399250162011-09-21T01:47:00.000-07:002011-09-21T01:47:44.523-07:0015 Minutes into The Spirit of Mumbai<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: justify;">So here I am, back after a pretty long hiatus. I think I even saw some fungus developing over this blog when I saw it today. So, what do I have to offer this time? Some more gory fiction? No, not today. The fiction would be coming soon as I am in the process of completing a story I began ages ago. Today, I take you on a journey I took a few days back, which gave me an insight into a totally different kind of people, what the spirit of a city really is.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was a regular morning in Mumbai and I had come only for that particular day. It was a journey I had to take to Andheri on Friday and to cut short any prospective delays, I decided to take the local train.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"You are crazy." My brother told me. "Just spend some bucks and hire a taxi. Why the hell do you want to get into those insane crowds?"</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"What if the taxi gets stuck in a traffic jam?" I argued.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB1YWMs_qATGbKI3Q83G8CuMWlUdZm_MsGvkF6kMKVW4jSytIenAHQpNvnPL09Zy6Bk_ydTyWERCNZ__hiDWd72MJKZSXMFUkXGAs4F1sut897nWLWVoUuCRrVR5t3oIecNwd0XgF2jYio/s1600/mlt4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB1YWMs_qATGbKI3Q83G8CuMWlUdZm_MsGvkF6kMKVW4jSytIenAHQpNvnPL09Zy6Bk_ydTyWERCNZ__hiDWd72MJKZSXMFUkXGAs4F1sut897nWLWVoUuCRrVR5t3oIecNwd0XgF2jYio/s320/mlt4.jpg" width="225" /></a>Nevertheless, I had decided that local train it was going to be. As I approached the Churchgate railway station, it was a sight to behold. I was standing across the road facing the station entrance, and the scene in front of me looked like one of those Hindi movies (I later came to know that many movies were actually shot at this particular location.). There were two crowds, both equally crazy. One was desperate to get into the station and another rushing to get out. It was quite an illustration of the condition of our bowels during a case of acute diarrhoea, or in short, total chaos. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Struggling with my bag, I somehow managed to squeeze in along with the crowd into the station and inside it was an army that would give the Rajnikanth army in 'Robot' a run for their money. They were all different people of varying age, cultures, language, sizes. But an invisible force bound everybody together and there was to an extent a monotony in their actions. To a person not used to crowds, it would have seemed like a riot. Waiting in the queue to get the return tickets, it felt like I was in a movie that was being played fast forward. No person waited more that 5 seconds before taking their ticket and zooming off to catch their respective train. Suddenly I also realised, that sub-consciously I was also doing the same. My feet were moving faster and my mind was in a hurry. For what? I fail to understand even today.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Well, I boarded the next train that would take me to my destination. What I didn't know that this journey would completely change my impression of Mumbai and especially the trains of Mumbai. Entering the train, I couldn't help feeling apprehensive since this very mode of transport has been the target of so many terror activities. Luckily I managed to get a seat (never expected that in the crowd) next to the window. Within seconds of arriving at the station, the train took off with people taking their regular positions inside. There is some kind of magnet near the doors that always attracts a majority of the people. Even if the seats are empty, the people there always love to cling on to the doors, maybe more than clinging on to their wives.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDJEXj8_s4lbFKqbeG9vQdks1AuE_DA4P8xOQLlwuwFWmrvadcp9NPLUh3d7RSvN6yCO7lEejjt1v3l20hai6DANGCAZVlsP3WbJAFpS1bWNLQYFGzQF6eUVlKWrM3Nrou8Sxp1xxoNyX1/s1600/mumbai-train.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDJEXj8_s4lbFKqbeG9vQdks1AuE_DA4P8xOQLlwuwFWmrvadcp9NPLUh3d7RSvN6yCO7lEejjt1v3l20hai6DANGCAZVlsP3WbJAFpS1bWNLQYFGzQF6eUVlKWrM3Nrou8Sxp1xxoNyX1/s320/mumbai-train.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">These very people were only recently at the receiving end of mindless fanaticism and Government apathy. Despite being wounded so many times, the city just clicks. Within a couple of days after any attack, the people are back to their feet and go about their daily routine. Many people in and outside the country label this as the "Spirit of Mumbai". Some even go ahead and state that the people here have now learnt to "adjust" and move on. Some say that the Mumbaikaar does not care.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I saw a labourer board the train at Dadar loaded with his tools. The poor man looked to be a daily wage worker. Maybe he was present when the recent blasts happened in Dadar market. Maybe he had lost someone in the carnage. What should he have done? Stop going to work in protest? Move to the streets shouting slogans against the failure of the Government and security agencies to safeguard their people? If he does, who is going to earn money for him and the remainder of his family to survive? </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">And it is mostly the same case with the common man in this city. It is not easy to live in a city like Mumbai. It may have its positives, but I for one find it very difficult to warm up to it despite being culturally close to it. For those who label these people as un-caring, do they really have a choice? The common man cannot afford to protest at the cost of his daily earnings. He does not have a father who has left him riches so that he can shun work and protest. So what does he do? He can only thank God that he lived through and pray that no more such incidents occur. With no guarantee that he would live another day, the common man of Mumbai carries on.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">At another station I see a hoard of people waiting to board the train as it entered the platform. An equal number was waiting by the door (in addition to the usual door lovers) to alight. The train normally stops for around 10 seconds at a single station. As if programmed, the people de-board the train within a couple of seconds, and the ones on the platform climb inside with amazing efficiency. There isn't much pushing around or the chaos that I normally witnessed in the Delhi Metro, especially at the Rajiv Chowk station.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Some time back, a world-wide survey labelled Mumbai as one of the rudest cities. True, that people usually don't talk much with strangers. It is also true that they may not say "Please" or "Thank you" all that often. But there is one thing for sure, whenever any tragedy hits the city, these very people are the first ones to help each other out before even the police or rescue teams reach the venue. It does not matter whether the perpetrators of the crime are Muslims or Hindus or Christians. What matters is that victims are always human beings, the very people with whom they travel daily in the trains, buses without speaking a word. And that, I feel is the real "Spirit" if you feel the need to label it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">As I descended from the train at Andheri, my mindset was changed. This was my first ever proper journey in a local train in this city. May be I don't like it as much as I like my hometown of Goa. Maybe I would never warm up to the city in my entire life. But one thing was sure. This is one city that needs no definition. It doesn't require that the people be only Marathi. It doesn't require that everybody follow only one religion. The common man who lives here drives the city to what it is, an economic hot-spot. The common man, with whom the people who rule us have lost touch with.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2502849115572129650.post-2562555542226915332011-07-29T10:26:00.000-07:002011-07-29T10:27:45.500-07:00For Those Who Made My Trip<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: justify;">Yes, I'm back writing on this blog after around 3 months. But this time its not fiction, nor is it a political rant. This post is dedicated to some people who are really special to me and have been an integral part of my journey into the corporate world. Today was my last working day in MakeMyTrip (India) and now I know what a "heavy heart" really means. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Though I was given an opportunity to speak today, I didn't, not because I didn't want to. But because I knew I wouldn't be able to express myself by talking. I can convey my feelings better by writing. So here's a message of thanks for some very special people</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><b>1) Amlesh Sinha</b></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;">My reporting manager, my mentor, my guide and a father figure for me. I can proudly say that I could not have a better mentor to begin my career with. You held my hand and guided me through the various facets of my professional life. You patted me on my successes and helped me correct my blunders, both always making me grow in the positive direction. I really cannot thank you enough for all the guidance and especially the patience that you showed.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><b>2) Virender Bisht</b></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The person who removed my notion that senior people are usually "khadoos" and are not bothered with the junior guys. A cool customer with an ever smiling face and quick decision maker, you are really the pillar of strength of the entire team. Thank you especially for all the encouragement you gave me.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><b>3) Ashish Srivastava</b></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Hamaare apne Balia ke "Aasees" sir. The troubleshooter of our team. One of the best programmers I have seen and a real expert debugger. A real jovial fellow who can give witty one-liners and special "interpretations". It was sheer pleasure working with someone so dedicated to his work.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<i><b>4) Shreesh Kaushik</b></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;">One of the best persons I've ever known. A true all-rounder in its perfect sense. This good looking guy can excel in any sport, awesome sense of humor, real fun to be with and at the same time can whip up some very good software code from his kitty. Thanks a ton for teaching me Foosball and making me about as good as you in it. Also thanks a lot for answering my never-ending questions all the time and being there for me. I just have one regret with you that I could never play TT with you (the tragedy is well known.. :P).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><b>5) Rehman Danish</b></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The 'Bhai'. Though being a senior from my college, he never came across as one. This guy can light up any situation however serious it may be with his spontaneous jokes and perfect timing. He is THE person who inspired me to try my hand at poetry (he is a very gud one himself). I can't forget especially how he pestered me into writing the "Bad-ass" poem. Would miss your jokes and especially the never-ending "tips".</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><b>6) Pratik Pahuja</b></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;">A devil with a saintly face. This tall guy thinks a lot. But looks are misleading and he really sets the flow when in the mood. One can discuss anything with him and I for one, found a really good friend in this man. Thanks for all the help and especially the entertaining cafeteria discussions. :)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><b>7) Abhijeet Srivastav</b></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This guy has only two expressions. A blank one. and a smiling one. Never seen him angry or frustrated at anything. Talks less, but when he does, I don't need to say anything more (:P). I would really miss those grilled sandwiches with you in the mornings. SOA zindabaad.... :D</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><b>8) Manish Ranjan</b></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Baby-faced, this kiddo-looking fella entered the scene with a bang with lights-on issue fixing. Recently famous for samosas and quietly stealing other's mobiles and I-cards to get treats. This entertainer goes about his work quietly and of-course a good foosball defender.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><b>9) Junaid Karim</b></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Initially I thought he is a very serious type of a person but turned out totally opposite once I got to know him better. I have never seen anybody so principled and honest with his work and he easily blends with the "bachchas" of the team despite being very senior.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><b>10) Ashish Jain</b></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The one person I have worked maximum with. He has tested all my projects and "bugged" me. My perfect foosball partner and we've beaten the best players of the company together, also winning by a record margin once. A charming persona and a person you can talk to anytime. It was natural bonding with him, more so because we share a common interest in photography. Thanks for all the awesome time dude.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><b>11) Ankur Khera</b></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Passion is one word that can define him. You taught me to be frank and honest despite the odds. A great friend, a person I can trust with my life and someone I respect naturally. Its no joke being good at your work and pursuing an MTech from an IIT at the same time. Would really miss the "Thodi der aur achcha khelna hai" and "Good shot man!!!!!" ... :)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><b>12) Anirudh Bharadwaj</b></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The best trait in this person is his ability to make friends with any human being. The most popular face in the company who can talk non-stop nonsense. A foosball rival who also brought me into the cricket playing group, this person is fully responsible for introducing me to different people and he can literally go a big way for his friends. Never lose this quality in you dude, not everyone is lucky to have it in them.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I might have missed out on some people in this really long list, but that doesn't make them any less important for me. Though now I have decided to have a full-on go at the post-graduate entrance tests, this one year of corporate experience has been something to be cherished forever. As I wrote in my farewell email, the first love is always the on which is closest to your heart, same way MMT has been my first tryst with corporate life and it would always remain special to me.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Thanks to everyone for the wonderful farewell you gave me and also for the movie outing. Would really miss the good times in MMT and as our tag-line goes, I would be taking with me "Memories Unlimited". Love you guys</div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2502849115572129650.post-23440101118838844882011-05-08T07:20:00.000-07:002011-05-09T08:35:28.655-07:00Radha's Child<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Disclaimer: </i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>All characters, incidents and places mentioned in this write-up is fictional and any similarity with any person or incident is purely co-incidental.</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The fire was crackling, it was the only sound other than the priest's chants. The smoke rose from the pyre in puffs and stood in stark contrast with the orange evening sky. A handful of villagers were present at the funeral, but there were no tears being shed. Nobody really cared. Only Shankar's close neighbors were present at his funeral.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Radha sat quietly on the ground as the pyre slowly turned into ashes. She was holding her 5-month old daughter in her arms, the child fast asleep in her mother's grasp. The people around looked at her as if she were a piece of trash even as she silently watched her father being cremated. After all, who would respect a village girl who gave birth to a child, that too a girl at the age of 16 without getting married, and which self-respecting man would marry such a girl. It was rumored that the father of the child was the 20 year old Kishan who was friendly with her.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Keshav, Shankar's brother and Radha's uncle had performed the final rites of his brother. He was the only blood relative Radha had left in the world. He bent down in front of the listless figure of Radha sitting on the ground and put his hand on her shoulder.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"Shall we go dear?" he asked her affectionately.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">She got up silently, carefully not to disturb the sleeping baby, pulled her sari over he head and followed her uncle with her small bundle of clothes, which was all she had left with her as her belongings. They walked the path to Keshav's house with Radha following him, her head bowed down, trying to hide her tears which were slowly trickling down her cheeks. As they reached their destination, she saw Kishan sitting on a bench at a distance across the street, a glass of tea in his hand. Uncle also noticed that she had noticed him.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"That moron is still here. I had fired him today morning itself." he snapped.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"Let him be, Uncle. He won't bother you." Radha said quietly.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"You don't need to come to his support for every damn thing. He is good for nothing, and we all know it. Now go inside and unpack your stuff. Your aunt will show you your place and your responsibilities in the household from today."<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">***</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was pitch dark outside. Slowly, trying to make as minimal noise as possible, Radha opened the door of the house and tip-toed outside. Kishan was waiting for her across the street.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"Are you crazy?" she asked him. "Do you understand what I face if I am caught with you here in the middle of the night?"</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"You just refuse to meet me in daytime. What am I supposed to do?" he replied calmly.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"We are not children anymore, Kishan. The fun and games in life are over. It's better we don't meet again ever."</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"I just don't get it why you can't come with me. Lets get out of this god-forsaken village. What's there for both of us here? Lets run away and get married. In that way I can give my name to the child too."</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"You know that I want your name itself to be attached to the child's. But running away is not the solution. Chachaji is far worse than my father was where these things are concerned. He killed his own daughter to protect the family honor when she ran away. I am just his niece."</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"I don't understand what makes you stay with him even though he scares the life out of you. My offer would be always open, whenever you change your mind."</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"You won't understand it. You are not a girl, that too not a unmarried mother. You know what that means right?"</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The night was dark, and one could hear the insects chirping outside. 15 year old Radha was lying on the ground trying very hard to sleep, but totally failing in the attempt. It was about 10 O'clock at night and her father had still not returned home. That could only mean he was getting drunk and that was the part she dreaded the most. She heard a sound at the door and lifted her head to see Shankar's silhouette in the doorway. He stumbled towards her and sat besides her.<br />
<br />
"Aren't I happy to see my beautiful young daughter grow up so fast?" he mumbled, and put his hand on her arm. Instinctively she retracted her hand back and all muscles in her body contracted.<br />
<br />
"You were such a little girl when your mother left us, and now look at you. You have become even more lovelier than she ever was."<br />
<br />
The hand was sliding up her knee now, and all she could do was contract herself tightly. She knew what was coming and that she would never be able to fight him off. Her body was shivering.<br />
<br />
"I love you, my baby, a lot!" he said bringing his face over hers. The smell of alcohol in his breath stung her senses and a wail came out of her mouth.<br />
<br />
"Shh....don't you get worried now. It would be done fast and you will enjoy it too. Every woman has to go through it." Saying thus he put his mouth over her pursed lips as she stifled her cry.<br />
<br />
<br />
Radha woke up suddenly, her body drenched in sweat and shivering. The memory of that fateful night had come back to haunt her again. In her sudden motion, she had woken up her child who has started crying loudly. She held her in her arms trying hard to console her but in vain.<br />
<br />
"Will you please shut up that bastard child of yours? I am unable to sleep in all that wailing." Keshav yelled from the adjoining room.<br />
<br />
"I am trying Chachaji." she replied. "She seems to be hungry, I'll try feeding her. And please don't call her that."<br />
<br />
"Do whatever you need to do. And don't you dare speak to me like that. I will call her whatever I please. That piece of shit deserves no place in the world, let alone my house. I am doing a favor on you both by letting you stay here and I expect a bit of gratitude in return."<br />
<br />
"The child is mine, and I will stand up for her, come what may. I am thankful for you letting us stay here, but I will not have anybody call my child that."<br />
<br />
An angry Keshav stormed into the room and grabbed Radha by her hair.<br />
<br />
"Say that again?" he threatened her. "You are a woman and you'd better know your status well. I hope you understand very well what I can do to you if you don't listen to me."<br />
<br />
"Kill me? Sure, go ahead. I am living dead anyway."<br />
<br />
"Kill? No, that would not be a punishment for insolence." His hand went to her throat. "Killing you would be too easy." The hand slid down to her chest. "There are things far worse and more enjoyable for a man to do with a whore like you."<br />
<br />
In an instant, Radha's hand went to her waist pouch and the knife came out and was pierced in Keshav's chest.<br />
<br />
"You will not harm me or my daughter, ever." she was wild. She drew back the knife and stabbed him again in the heart. The blood was splattering all over the place, but she did not stop stabbing until the body became motionless.<br />
<br />
"There goes, my second murder, or would it be rescue?" she said over Keshav's listless body.<br />
<br />
Radha quietly picked up her child and ran out of the house.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">**********</div></div></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2502849115572129650.post-87033212968801769912011-04-16T03:00:00.000-07:002011-04-17T07:04:15.354-07:00Everything I do, I do it for You!!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">The entire restaurant was full that day. All the tables were filled with the guests enjoying their Saturday evening, but not one sound came from any of them. Neither the usual chatter nor the clanging of the plates and spoons. Even the waiters were standing on the side with ready dishes in a tray, but not moving to serve them. The only sound emitted in the hall was that of David's and that of his piano. His fingers moving elegantly over the keys, his every motion producing a melody that totally enthralled each and every human being in the hall. No sooner than he finished his last track for the evening, the entire hall echoed with claps and cheers for a repeat performance.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">Acknowledging the crowd, David bowed down before them and politely got off the dais. As he passed through the crowd, there were a flurry of compliments from the various guests, a few handshakes and some promises to give him a chance to perform at big concerts by some of the big-shots in the room. He accepted all of them with a smile. He knew that most of the people would not remember his name, let alone his face the next day. The manager greeted him with a smile and took him aside. </span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">"The boss wants you to play one more song tonight." he told David.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">"If I am not mistaken, I get paid only to perform till 10 p.m.. Extra work would cost more than the meagre stipend you guys give me." David replied curtly. It was true. Those promises by the regular guests to give him the opportunities of a lifetime never took form, and he just about managed to live with his paltry earnings, what with the alimony he had to pay to his wife as a part of their divorce settlement.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">"The boss knows it, David. He is offering you the same amount that you get for the 2 hour performance for just one extra song. Your earnings for today would be double the usual. He has left this note for you." saying this, the manager slipped a piece of paper in David's hand and went away. One song for twice the amount. Not bad, thought David.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">At that very moment, David saw his boss enter the restaurant. Anil Mehta, young, smart and an aggressive businessman who had set up the restaurant chain and tasted success at a very early age entered his territory accompanied by a lady who looked to be in her late 20's. As they came closer, David could see both more clearly, and what he saw made his heart skip a beat. It had been 8 long years since he had last seen or met Shirley, and there she was, as beautiful as she had been then and even more graceful now. </span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">His mind wandered to the last time he had been alone with her at the lake. It was when he had told her that his family would be moving to Delhi from Kolkata. He was 23 then when his father made that decision. There was nothing left for them in Kolkata, their company had been bankrupt and all the property seized by the banks in lieu of mortgage. His maternal uncle had managed to find his father a job in Delhi, and so they were about to move in a week.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">"I'll miss you terribly." he told her.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">Shirley just looked down at the ripples her feet made on the surface of the water, silent, as if she was sitting all alone. A tear drop ran down her cheek and fell into the water.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">"Don't give me this silent treatment. Please say something." he begged of her.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">"Is there anything left to say?" she asked him back. "You won't stay back even if I want you to. You will go to Delhi, make some new friends and carry on with your life. I'll try and do the same with mine."</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">"Promise that you'll write to me. You have been my best friend all this time."</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">Shirley got up and started walking. David stood in her way.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">"I'm sorry Shirley. But this isn't really in my hands now."</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">She looked up at him, her eyes red and filled with tears. Their gazes waited upon each other for several moments. At last she broke eye contact and gave him a quick hug before running away.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">David was woken from his reverie when a waiter nudged him and pointed towards the table where Anil was sitting with Shirley. Anil winked at him and David signaled with a thumbs-up sign to show that he was ready with the song. Just then, Anil received a phone call and he left the table to attend to it, apparently from a guy he was doing business with. Shirley motioned David to come to the table.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">"Long time eh?" she said softly. "I thought I would never get to see you again."</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">"Yeah, and look at you." he said. "You seem to have done really well for yourself."</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">"I guess so. What about you? Where have you been all these years? There is so much to catch up on."</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">"I'm just somehow managing to survive. This divorce has turned out to be pretty expensive for me."</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">"Oh. I'm sorry." </span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">"It's alright. I am getting used to it now."</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">"You never wrote back to me..........." </span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">"I couldn't. Life had gone all topsy turvy for me. There wasn't one good thing I could write to you about. And when the time came to get married, I could not break the news to you either."</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">"You too?" Both he hands were clasped on her mouth. "You could have said something that day at the lake."</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">"I was too scared. Just too scared of losing you. You didn't say anything either."</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">Both looked at each other, filled with thoughts of what might have been if.........if only!!!!!</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">Anil arrived back after finishing his call and arrived back at the table a mike in his hand. David was back on his piano playing a very familiar tune.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">"Ladies and Gentlemen." Anil announced. "It's a very special day today for me. It has been exactly 3 years since I met this lovely lady sitting right in front of me for the first time, And haven't those 3 years been great. Right here, right now, I want to post a question to her, with all of you as witness. Dear Shirley, would you like to make the rest of my life as amazing as the last 3 years?" </span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">Anil was down on his knees. Shirley was thunderstruck with tears of joy rolling down her cheeks. Unable to speak she silently nodded yes and both of them hugged while the audience was thundering with applause.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">David was quiet, he could just see his piano. He couldn't dare look at the centre of attention for fear of breaking down. He was just playing the song that had been requested by his boss to be played at that very moment, the words striking a chord with every human being present in the hall that night.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Look into my eyes - you will see <br />
What you mean to me <br />
Search your heart - search your soul <br />
And when you find me there you'll search no more <br />
<br />
Don't tell me it's not worth trying for </i><i><br />
You can't tell me it's not worth dying for <br />
You know it's true <br />
Everything I do - I do it for you </i></span> </div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">Later that night, as he was having his 4th beer in his cramped apartment he received a message on his cell phone.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>"David , I know that things haven't really worked out the way we wanted them to. But I would like to give it another try. What do you say? Do you feel we can give our marriage another chance? -- Love, Clara."</i></span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">He laid back on the sofa, his eyes closed. Maybe life wasn't so bad either, he thought and gulped down what would be his last drink for that day.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">*************************************************************</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">You can view the original song sung by Brian Adams @<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZGoWtY_h4xo">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZGoWtY_h4xo</a></span></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318293370080747914noreply@blogger.com1