THE TALE WEAVER

Chanakya's Chants-A review

2011-08-07T11:17:00.000+05:30

So, I am writing a post again after months. All thanks to the Blog Adda's book review program. It’s a beautiful program where they send the books for review to the readers and they are supposed to review the book within ten days of receiving it (demanding these people are, I must say). So without much ado review shuru kiya jae( I do watch that show)

First of all I must say that the author Ashwin Sanghi is worth putting your money on. I can bet you that one fine day there will be a book coming out from the author that will grab him fame and mass acceptance. Is this the book? I wish I could say a whole hearted yes, but it isn’t. It has all the ingredients but there is something which doesn’t work. I haven't read the Rozabal Line, but don't bet on me not buying the book.

The story is in the Dan Brown mode in terms of using history as a backdrop or a parallel plot as is the case of Chanakya’s Chants. The story starts with Chandni Gupta while taking the oath of the prime minister of India is shot, while a terribly old man is watching it with rapt attention. This old man is Gangasagar Mishra. He was the person behind the rise of Chandni Gupta as the prime ministerial candidate and probably also the reason behind her winning it.

The parallel story is about the best political brain India has ever seen Chanakya. It was with his backing that Chandragupta Maurya became the ruler of the united Bharat. It was also to avenge the killing of his father by the ruler Dhanananda.

While Mishra was a king maker by choice, Chanakya became one for personal Vendetta.

So what works and what doesn’t? Well the concept was fantastic, with two stories running parallel. The two central characters coming up trumps against similar situations, becomes a little predictable as you read further but they hold up well in the end. The pace of the novel is frantic to its advantage. The dialogues of the present day Chanakya or Mishra are very cheesy. There are lines said by Chanakya which are actually not his and the author has acknowledged that at the end of the book (I didn’t realize that anyways).The author has also been inspired by some recent scams and weaved them into the plot, a nice touch I must say.

The one thing that doesn’t work and probably is the biggest disappointment is the central plot. If you read successful books in this genre, the questions asked in the beginning of the book cannot be answered even after finishing three quarters of the book, here the answer was very predictable.

But that doesn’t mean that the book isn’t readable at all. It is a good book from a very talented author. Pick it up and finish it at your own pace, you will enjoy it.

Footnote:

I must thank Blog Adda for this fantastic opportunity to review the book Chanakya’s Chant. Cheers to more reviews and books.

This review is a part of the Book Reviews by bloggers;Book Reviews Program at http://www.blogadda.com. Participate now to get free books!

What is your legacy?

2011-03-26T18:40:00.000+05:30

Time and again we have seen the power of this question; in fact the world we live today is filled with examples of people living their lives out in search of a legacy they want to leave behind. They live their entire lives creating memories which would stay even after they are gone and there are some lethargic ones who believe in leaving no legacy behind as their legacy ( I think there is only one example of it , the guy who writes a blog called Tale Weaver).
If I talk about one person whose answer to this question I definitely loved was that of Randy Pausch. A professor in Computer Science at Carnegie Mellon, Pausch with his determination to make his weird childhood dreams true and making sure that he worked hard enough for his students to make their true. He asked himself this question when he was living on borrowed time. Struck with Pancreatic cancer he decided to give his Last Lecture. The Last lecture was a series of lectures where professors spoke about the legacy they would leave behind once they call it a day. Randy spoke for a little over an hour about his legacy and what he strived for. He famously called the lecture a head fake, in principle the lecture was to talk about the legacy but in reality it was for his kids, who were too small to know who really their father was, and what he stood for. His book is one of the must read.
If there is someone like Randy who did his bit to make the world a better place, there is someone like Elizabeth Taylor who made the world a glamorous place to be in. A beautiful woman of her times, she always gave something for the gossip columns to fill space with. I gather, she was a good actress, and has two academy awards to her name. A few movies which are classics but her legacy can very well be summed up with her funeral where she arrived fashionably late by 15 minutes.
Talk about legacy and Hugh Hefner cannot be left behind by much. If the world is a little more open about sexuality then the credit has to go to Hefner. He has lived the sexual fantasy many guys think of, is still the subject of envy of many and also role model for some. But what is more important is that people are more aware of their sexuality, and today having fun playboy style is not really uncommon. Today it is ok to have a little fun and not feel bad about it. Though his work has always been on the wrong side of the lines of morality, it is without any doubt that his legacy will remain long after he leaves this world.
I guess the list can keep going, but the point is that we all are working towards our own little legacies. So let me ask you the same question once again

What is your legacy?

Ray Ban Baba- The story till date

2011-03-20T16:46:00.000+05:30

For the benefit of those who haven't read the previous parts

When I first came to Pune, I was full of enthusiasm and excitement about all the things I would do there and guess what was the first considerable thing I saw here? , the roof of a semi-private ward at the hospital!. I was diagnosed with typhoid, a disease which catches hold of you when you don’t pay attention to what and where you are eating. Like I always believe, everything happens in this world because the universe conspires to, so now I know who I have to blame for my condition.

The first thing you would want to know in a semi-private ward is who the other inmates where. Well my semi-private ward had four beds, and only one other bed was occupied. At the first night (I was rushed to the hospital at mid night) I was in no condition to notice anything about this place. All I remember about the night was a few conversations between the nurses which were in some alien language and so I did not care, all I did was sleep.

The first thing I saw in the morning was some doctor reading my medical reports. I don’t know when they took the blood out of me but he said that I would need a week long rest in the hospital. He specified on the word hospital (that’s where he gets his bread and butter; he is bound to emphasize on the word). So my so called journey towards a celebration called life did not start in a very nice manner (that’s what I thought at that time) but I have to be optimistic about it. I mean this is the city which is going to give me my career.

“Mr. Sameer, is there somebody with you who could get your medicines?” a nurse asked interrupting my thoughts

“No, I am on my own. If you could send somebody to get my medicines .I will pay for it”

“O.K”

The nurse walked away. A few minutes later, a young kid walked in with a plastic bag in hand

“Saheb, these are your medicines” and he handed over the bill. I stretched towards the drawer near my bed and pulled out my wallet, paid the bill with an extra five bucks the kid charged me for his efforts.

That was followed by a few hours of roof staring till the start of the visiting hours. I knew there was another patient there, so I guess there would be some people coming to meet him, probably that was the only way I would be able to see a non hospital face.

I was right about that; a man of medium height, thick moustache and extremely large belly walked in with his wife and daughter. My bed was diagonally opposite to the other occupied bed and we were separated by a veil which they usually use in the hospitals. They moved the veil slowly so that they could place the chairs around the bed. The patient in that bed was a very old man. He was very skinny with his skin sagging from every part of his body, his cheeks where sucked in and he did not seem to have teeth. The hospital robe was too big for him. He barely managed to hold the trouser on his waist.

Like all Indian families, this one had brought a lot of the old man’s favorite food items. Since the old guy was on his last stretch, the family does everything to keep him happy and well their antics put me to sleep.

A small poke woke me up; it was the nurse changing the needles. I rubbed my eyes, trying to see what has changed in the past few minutes; I raised the pillow and put it in between the wall and my back for some support. The old guy was still lying down and his granddaughter was giving her company.

“I have seen bad days, but nothing like this” I told myself. The boredom of lying down in the hospital was putting me to sleep every second minute and well I always felt as if I had slept for hours and when my eyes searched for the clock, it moved by a few minutes only.

The kid who had bought my medicines yesterday walked in, and gave a packet of medicines to the granddaughter. She went through the bill, something upset her and she started gesturing wildly. She thumped the bill in the boy’s palm, and she walked towards my bed agitatedly. I was surprised, I really couldn’t think of what could have happened.

“Excuse me, do you realize this boy has been fooling you?”

“ohh..umm”I stammered, “he charges me for delivering the medicines, if that’s what you are talking about”

“He is much smarter than that, He has billed you more than the MRP price for your medicines, on all your medicines”

“How much extra has he charged me?” I asked, not knowing what I should be doing about it

“At least 100 rupees. If you have a lot of money to give away, then, do what you want”

“100 rupees!”I tried to act cheated “ What did you get by cheating me? You know that is why India will never progress, everyone here is a cheat, except for this lady here” The boy let loose a giggle and there was thin smile on the girls face

“It’s ok, If you don’t care then you don’t have to act” She said turning her back towards me

“I wasn’t acting,” I said trying to get up, only to be reminded that I was tied up by a saline.

“let me decide that” she said and sat near her grandpa, trying to keep herself busy with a book.

I called the boy, he walked towards me sheepishly.

“Who asked you to laugh?”

“Kya sir, you don’t know how to get angry also”

“Accha, and what about overcharging me?, had you not gone to her, I wouldn’t have known”

“What do I do sir!, the cashier at the pharmacy does these things, I don’t know about it at all”

“Ok, do me a favor, call the pharmacist here, and let me talk to him”

The boy went and called the pharmacist. The pharmacist apologized and also sent my one hundred and thirty five rupees back.

“Here you go” I handed them over to the boy

“Why me sir?”

“Had you not done the mistake of showing that lady” I pointed towards the girl “ I wouldn’t have got them back, so keep it , but make good use of it”

“Ha,sir, I will give them to my mother now only, thank you sir”

I smiled to him, and he left the hospital with a spring in his step. This was the first time, I smiled in this hospital, and like always, one smiles only when we see someone else smile or make them smile.

The specialty of the hospital was its food. The look, the feel and the taste of the food makes you realize that you are sick, maybe it’s a part of the hospital strategy to make sure that their patients stay an additional day. My food was curd with rice, and both the curd and rice was cold. It seems that the cook forgot to add a little of salt to the food. I put the plate aside and went back to staring at the roof.

The fragrance of hot Dal and rice distracted me. The pharmacy boy was holding a plate of rice and dal.

“Is this for me?” I asked

“Yes,” he said with a mischievous smile

“And who gave it”

He winked , put the plate on the small table near my bed and left. He returned swiftly and said

“She said to tell you that her name is Rashi” and left again.

I was smiling from ear to ear. Now I did not want to leave the hospital. Rashi was sitting with her back towards me, but I knew that even she would have a smile on her face. I ate the food and to be honest I don’t remember how it tasted, when you feel good about something, everything around you is good.

It was around 4 in the evening and it was the time for the patients, who could, to have a walk and move around a little bit. Rashi helped her grandpa to stand up. He sat on his wheel chair with Rashi’s support. He pulled open his drawer and took out a pair of glasses from it. They did not look like the one worn by people who have had a cataract operation. It was more stylish and was a design which was once popular in the early 70s.

He asked Rashi to push his wheelchair towards me.

“You are new here” he asked.

“Yes I am” I said, but he did not pick it. He pushed his neck towards me, urging me to talk a little louder and I repeated a little louder. He came closer to me and added in a soft but naughty voice

“I hope Rashi did not trouble you a lot, she gets angry quickly”. He waved his hand to Rashi, signaling her to push him away.

I had met a lot of people, a lot of people had peculiar habits and Rashi’s grandpa was definitely one of them. I don’t think he could see much through the glasses, but he wore a warm smile, he couldn’t talk much but what he talked was sweet. He had a certain charm and pride on his face, the one you have after you have lived a satisfied life. There was immense respect for him in everyone’s eyes. I had decided to stay back on my bed. It was just the first day, though it felt like I had been here forever but already he was the best part of my day. He was the first one to enquire about me, and well the fact that he still has a penchant for life at a stage when he adds to his age everyday was unbelievable.

The zest for life is an unbelievable thing. I had seen those words in literature and on cinema but here was a person, living those words in front of my eyes. He wasn't going to die young, nor was he suffering from any critical illness which would eventually take him away. Age simply caught up.

My eyes were fixed on the door waiting for Baba. He was one person who you just cant have enough of. No wonder it took him a more than an hour to find his way back to his bed. I pulled a chair and sat besides his bed.

"Baba, what is your age?" I asked him

"I get a lot of this" he replied with a smile

"Well, no better way to start a conversation with you"

"You think I am old?, See I never went to school so I lost count but the last time I remember my age I was 18"

"and I guess that was a long time ago?"

"No man, It wasnt that far off, may be a few years ago"

"Could be decades!"

"Yes, I will not rule out that possibility. But lets not talk about numbers now, I need to work out".

He caught me by surprise

"Open my drawer, my dumbbells are in it"

I opened his drawer. It was filled with a lot of medicines.

"I get it you meant the medicines, when you said workout right"

"No, no bugger. Look properly," he said. Rashi stepped in from behind.

"Looking for the dumbbells?" she asked

I nodded, noticing the smile on her face

Ray Ban Baba -4

2011-03-13T18:15:00.000+05:30

Yes, the story of Ray Ban Baba continues

The zest for life is an unbelievable thing. I had seen those words in literature and on cinema but here was a person, living those words in front of my eyes. He wasn't going to die young, nor was he suffering from any critical illness which would eventually take him away. Age simply caught up.

My eyes were fixed on the door waiting for Baba. He was one person who you just cant have enough of. No wonder it took him a more than an hour to find his way back to his bed. I pulled a chair and sat besides his bed.

"Baba, what is your age?" I asked him
"I get a lot of this" he replied with a smile
"Well, no better way to start a conversation with you"
"You think I am old?, See I never went to school so I lost count but the last time I remember my age I was 18"
"and I guess that was a long time ago?"
"No man, It wasnt that far off, may be a few years ago"
"Could be decades!"
"Yes, I will not rule out that possibility. But lets not talk about numbers now, I need to work out".
He caught me by surprise
"Open my drawer, my dumbbells are in it"
I opened his drawer. It was filled with a lot of medicines.
"I get it you meant the medicines, when you said workout right"
"No, no bugger. Look properly," he said. Rashi stepped in from behind.
"Looking for the dumbbells?" she asked
I nodded, noticing the smile on her face

To read RayBan Baba 1 click here
to read Ray Ban Baba 2 click here
The third edition is here

What a wonderful world

2011-02-14T02:17:00.000+05:30

The moon had taken over the sky on a Sunday night. It was on its way to witness another complete revolution of the earth on its axis, it would like always bring in a new day in a few moments. Sameer was staring idly at his Face book page.

His phone clicked a couple of times indicating a message. It was another of those early Valentine’s Day messages sent by a few who knew how to save a buck or two. He walked to the balcony of his house, it was late in the night and the city was peaceful.

The facebook page made a noise. It was Nida, his friend.

“How bad do I look?” she asked

“Ummm..that’s a tough question “ he typed back in reply

“Sameer it’s a serious question”

“You don’t look bad at all Nida! why that question?”

There was no response from Nida for a while.

“deR?”

“Yeah”

“What happened? Bol na”

“Nothing, that’s the problem”

His phone clicked again

“Is this about Valentine’s day?”

There was no response again for a while.

“I think that’s a yes”

“Yes” came the reply in an instant

“But leave it” she added “Its mighty depressing not having someone special in your life as it is, discussing it makes it sound even more depressing”

“oye, it isn’t depressing at all”

He waited for her to say something but there was nothing

“Let me explain. Tomorrow is Valentine’s right. It will be a reason for someone who loves you or adores you or even has a slight crush on you to come forward and tell you that”

“So?”

“Think, someone whom you really adore, comes forward and says ‘Can I ask you something’, I am sure you will be on cloud nine for a few seconds. Aren’t we living for those few moments in life?”

“Hah”

And just like many years ago Sameer had made Nida smile.

**************

“Team meeting” her TL announced

“Now?”

He nodded and went on announcing around the other cubicles. She picked her phone from the desk and headed towards the elevators. When the door opened she made her way towards it, she fumbled at the small gap between the cabin and the door. A guy held her. He was fair and tall and looking handsome in the white shirt. His arms were still supporting her

“Can I ask you something” he asked her chuckling.

Nida closed her eyes “Sameer you idiot” she cursed under her breath.

**************

Nida was at her doorstep, looking for the keys to the house when her phone rang. It was Sameer. She picked it

“I see trees of green, red roses too” he crooned “I see them bloom, for me and you and I think to myself …what a wonderful world”

Nida had a huge smile on her face “What was that?”

“A song”

“I know and a bad singer to add to that, but why the song?”

“I see skies of blue, clouds of white. Bright blessed days, dark sacred nights and I think to myself …what a wonderful world”

“That doesn’t answer my question”

“The colours of a rainbow…so pretty in the sky. Are also on the face… of people going by. I see friends shaking hands, saying how do you do…They are really saying…I love you”

The smile widened “really?”

“Why? You are my best friend and I love you for that. I thought it was Valentine’s Day and why not let you know”

“I know, what’s the harm”

“You know had I not known you so well, I would have asked you out”

Nida smiled, Sameer had once again made her day.

Footnotes:
May all of you find love in everything around you!

Chase-the sequel

2011-02-07T10:47:00.000+05:30

The moon was hiding behind the clouds, peeping out occasionally to make sure that it wasn't missing out on something interesting.

I was sitting in front of a computer screen showing complicated screens with important data popping out in regular intervals. My eyes were tiring out; red threads were creeping into the white of my sleep deprived eyes.

"Dude I am hungry" K.D said

“same here, let’s go to some tapri"

“Are you done with your work?"

"Nopes, but if I don't take my eyes off this screen for now then I will never finish it"

“Alright, btw you have cash?” KD asked

“No, but I will withdraw it from some ATM nearby”

“Cool”

Since the evolution of man, very few friendships have lasted the test of time. Today, one such friendship will be tested.

KD kicked start his bike, making the only noise in the huge parking lot and drove out. The weather outside the office was different. There was a slight breeze along with a chill in the air. The breeze massaged my tired eyelids. I was losing the fight of staying up when KD stopped on a corner.

He pointed towards the ATM at the other side of the road. When I saw the ATM for the first time, I knew it was different, but I thought common sense took over me and I started to cross the road. I stood at the divider checking for any cars, there was a chill which ran down my spine. I thought I heard something but wasn’t sure. For the second time in these few minutes I did not listen to my senses, a fact that I regret.

I crossed the road and was just about a few steps away from the ATM when I was sure I sensed an old enemy. The growl was there, and the enemy decided to let go of a bark. My walk turned into a sprint to the ATM, and the old enemy was a few steps behind me. The door of the ATM was too heavy for the enemy. I stood behind those heavy doors safe but I knew that this couldn’t go on forever. I had to start looking for an exit but there was none in sight.

127 seconds to go

“Why was it chasing you?”KD shrieked

“I don’t know man, but you got to help me man”

“That thing looks ferocious”

100 seconds to go

KD called again

“That thing isn’t moving”

“I can see that”

“We need to distract it”

“I will throw a stone or something, you run and jump on my bike”

80 seconds to go

I pushed the door as slightly as ever waiting in anticipation of KD’s move. I couldn’t go more than a step outside; the stone couldn’t really distract it. It only made it turn away and it saw its victim trying to step out and in an instant jumped.

I pushed the door back, it collided with the door and still growling. I could see those teeth grinding against each other in anticipation of the victim, and those eyes never let go of the victim.

I was starting to lose hope.

60 seconds to go

“What is that noise?” the security guard inside the ATM asked rubbing his eyes

I explained him my situation. He rushed into the small cabin masked behind the machine. I thought I had lost my only hope. But that’s what I thought.

30 seconds to go

He came out with a huge stick and rushed outside towards the enemy

“Madar****” he shouted at the enemy, letting go a blow at the enemy. The enemy resisted for once but started to back track. I saw my opportunity; I rushed outside the ATM and ran across the street towards KD. He had kick started his bike already. On my way, one leg got into the way of the other and I fell. But the enemy was nowhere to be seen. This was to be continued for later.

They say that it is man’s best friend, but after my ordeals I have come to doubt it. When old friendships were tested, a hero was born.

I was sitting behind KD and watching my hero light a beedi on the stairs of the ATM. I don’t know how things would have been had it not been for his heroic act.

The moon was clear of the clouds, I am sure.

EPILOGUE:

"Dude did you withdraw some money?" KD asked

Footnotes:

This is my hundredth post on my blog. I thought of writing some ode to myself but I guess the best way to do it is by doing it the way I know best.

For those who don't know about "The Chase" click here

The Book Thief

2011-01-30T10:43:00.000+05:30

When death tells a story, you really want to listen. And this time you wouldn't want death to stop. He tells a beautiful and intriguing tale of Liesel Meminger and those around her.

He starts with a train journey. He tells us about the colour of sky that day, Snow white, when he met Liesel for the first time. He took someone away from her, her brother. It was at his grave where Liesel stole for the first time. She didn't know much about the book she stole "The grave diggers handbook", but the words in the book she stole got meaning once she meets papa "Hans Hubberman", who taught her to read.

And then starts a story where words overpower you with emotions,smiles,love and magic.

Set in Molching street,during the Nazi era "The book thief" is a must read. The story sometimes reminded me of Malgudi days but Markus Zusak's style of writing is very original. He paints the story of Liesel in front of your eyes with his imaginative use of words.

The characters around her stay on with you long after you have finished the book. The most notable among them are

Rudy Steiner
Hans Hubberman, papa
Rosa Hubberman, mama
Max Vandenberg
IIsa Hermann

This book "The Book Thief" is one hell of a book. It is a slow book, but every page of this book is magic. Some of the scenes in the book like Rudy Steiner as Jesse Owens, when Liesel enters the library, Max painting Fuhrer on the basement wall and so on.

I would recommend this book for every one. And once you've read it, thank me for recommending it.

Image courtesy : www.flipkart.com

I Cry

2011-01-26T17:21:00.000+05:30

Hi guys,

I don't know how many people still remember me or my blog and its not your fault. I have been off circuit for more than three months now. It's strange that my last three posts have all come on 26th of a month and after three months now, here I am writing something.

I wonder what went wrong. It has been really difficult for me to sit down and write. I for one never wrote because I just had to write. I write because I enjoy writing. A mere 98 posts in four years indicates that. I always wrote because I felt like.

My work schedule isn't helping either. A new shift every two weeks hasn't helped me settle into any particular schedule. My weight issues weren't helping either, but thats one thing I will not complain about now. I have put my weight concerns to rest(I think) and I am feeling better about myself now.
This is going to be difficult,I have been through dry patches before and have come back out of it. I know I can write better than before but I have never felt this way before.

I will not give up on my writing. That is one thing for sure. I saw Nadal cry today when things weren't going his way on the tennis court. I don't think I have ever seen him so broken on the tennis court, but if I ask people today if he will fight back, almost every one will agree that he will. So from this I take inspiration. I know that the way back will not be easy but I will take the first steps and hope that the road will take care of itself.

Cheers

Shady West Side

A clown and the father

2010-10-27T03:11:00.000+05:30

“What does that clown do?” a newly married lady whispered in her husband’s ears.

Arshad hears that a lot. He widens his smile even more and walks towards the couple in his trademark split leg style.

“There is a clown in all of us; I am here to bring it out” he said while taking out his huge notebook and presented it to the couple.

The two flipped the pages of the notebook; it was full of cartoon sketches made out of real people. Arshad the clown was an artist who also performed to collect a few coins from the visitors in and around the Charminar, to fill the stomach of his small family.

It wasn’t a thriving business like that of Irani chai, sold by many small cafes around or the small hawkers selling useless but strange looking things. Arshad himself was strange looking in his clown outfit. The white cream with red nose and huge red smile was accompanied by surma in his eyes. He had a clown top and a pyjama below which was a total mismatch but helped him attract the attention of the tourists around. The local visitors and those from the nearby states never gave him more than 20 rupees. Every now and then there was an unsuspecting foreigner who thought of it as some kind of art, which has survived the tide of town and probably Arshad is preserving the culture of the Indian clown which has been lost to time. These visitors gave him anything between 50 to 500 rupees depending upon how the sketch turns out.

As the day grew on, the crowd at the Charminar grew thicker. The sun was kinder to the white skin of the foreigners who had come to visit the city. Arshad had by now managed to gather a crowd around him, while the antique coin seller and the toy makers sitting adjacent to Arshad looked on. They knew it will take just a turn of head to be seen by someone in the crowd. That would be their chance.

“What if the cartoon doesn’t look like me?”

“Then all my work is yours” Arshad replied

There was a chuckle, it was familiar to Arshad. He heard it every day, that of his little son Ali, who was hidden behind the long legs. For Ali, his father worked at an office at a far off place and came back home late in the night tired. He might have got his Ammi along with him but Arshad was sure she was at one of the pearl shops.

Arshad continued with his sketch, but was watching Ali from the corner of his eye. Ali stood there in rapt attention as his father drew laughs from the audience he had gathered. For Arshad only one laugh mattered then, that of Ali. For years, he couldn’t face his son because he never did something his child could be proud of. Ali was too small to understand that but some day he would, Arshad dreaded that day. But today wasn’t that day. Today was different, Ali was enjoying every moment of this and there couldn’t be a better moment for Arshad than this.

The crowd started to thin with the sound of the magrib azaan. Arshad gestured towards Ali, summoning him.

“Come here beta”

The Joker who had held his attention till now was asking for him. His tiny feet took him slowly to Arshad

“How about a sketch beta”

Ali tried to say something but the sound never came out and after gathering a little courage he said

“I don’t have the money”

Arshad smiled and said “Don’t worry; I will not take money from you. You are like my son”

A smile appeared on Ali’s face, as he heard the stranger clown.

“Stand in front of me, while I make your sketch” Arshad said

The smile started growing wider as Ali posed for Arshad, when they heard something

“Aliiiiii..” his mother shouted

Ali heard her voice and hid behind the railings before the entrance to the Charminar. Arshad could see Ali behind the railings and continued sketching. Ali’s mother spotted him too; she held his hand and dragged him away from the railings while stealing a smile at Arshad.

Arshad completed the sketch in a few minutes and placed it aside. He placed it aside for the dreadful day when Ali will not know why he should be proud of his father.

The Dabaang effect

2010-09-26T20:36:00.000+05:30

I might be 16 days late for this post, but well the Dabaang fever is not going to subside for a while so what the heck. Its better late than never.

Now tell me something, what makes this movie unique?.

It doesn't have a story line for starters. For some reason Salman Khan has got a formula for his no script movies to work, take for example "Maine pyaar kyu kiya","Partner", "Wanted" and add "Dabaang" to that list. Movies without script can fail big time, you can ask the director actor combo of Priyadarshan and Akshay Kumar who seem to think by running around the city and over acting are a key to success. So why did Dabaang work?

The Salman star power, I might say this might be one of the reasons. Salman has been doing it for years so may be yes, his star power carried the movie through.

The action, definitely yes. Though there are barely three full blown action sequences they are well shot, so they did make for a good viewing.

The length of the movie was a great factor. The movie was a quick one, no over dose of the show Salman was carrying on his broad shoulders.

Aggressive publicity program. People were waiting for the date of release. Salman was on every show on Indian television to promote the movie. I guess the hard work paid off.

May be it was the Zandu Balm effect. I heard that Malaika Arora- Khan is also the brand ambassador of Zandu Balm now. Wow

Or maybe the most intelligent shirt of Bollywood. It tore of at the right moment, without anyone touching it. The shirt was the difference eventually between apna Chulbul Pandey and Chedi Singh. Poor Chedi Singh spent all his energy and rage in tearing his shirt while apna Chlbul was focussed thanks to the intelligent shirt.

If you ask me what made me watch the film was the trailer. The first look of it, it looked stylish. The Dabaang tune had a little bit of the country feel to it, the trailer promised a lot of action and just to balance all of it Salman adds "Hum tumme itne ched karenge ki con-phuse ho jaoge ki saas kaha se le aur ...."

To be honest I enjoyed the movie and this one is definitely one to watch when one is stressed out

May be the intellectual kinds would find themselves not too challenged after watching this movie, I can give them something to ponder over. Try answering this
"What is it about this movie that made it work?"

Return -Blog-a-ton

2010-09-03T23:45:00.000+05:30

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 14; the fourteenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

The sun was relentless in shining down on the largely dried up farm of Faridkot. The kids used it as their cricket ground during summers. The rains were scarce last year and that had affected the entire village, electricity was a blessed on the villagers for a couple of hours during the evening. During those hours the villagers assembled near Salim bhai’s house. He had once gone to Dubai for a few months, bought a T.V for the village. Ajju’s family stayed just besides Salim bhai’s house. Ajju used to play with Salim bhai’s kids, Zaheer and Irfan.

Zaheer and Irfan were more like brothers to him. Ajju’s father; Mohammad Hanif, was unemployed for most of the year. He worked on Salim bhai’s farms after the rains, and that was all he earned during the entire year. Salim bhai was generous enough to make sure that Hanif bhai and family had two meals to eat. Salim bhai had once gifted Ajju a cricket bat; it was Ajju’s favorite bat. Ajju hit his first six with it; he still remembers how he lofted Irfan bhai’s bowl outside the maidan. Every one clapped for him, Ajju felt his heart skip a beat. He liked that feeling.

Ajju and his friends were playing their daily game of cricket. Irfan was always too fast for Ajju but over the years as Ajju grew up he learned to play him, he would hit Irfan for six every now and then, for that special feeling.

“Ajju we don’t need to hit, aaram se khelna” Zaheer shouted to Ajju from the other end of the pitch. Ajju nodded but everybody knew that Ajju will try and hit it, it came naturally to him. Irfan ran in to bowl, Ajju stepped down the pitch and lofted. The ball touched the sun before flying outside the maidan.

Ajju’s eyes were fixed on the trajectory. He wished he could fly like the ball, something told him that one day he would.

Irfan ran in to bowl even faster this time; Ajju lofted him outside the maidan again. The fair Irfan was now red because of the heat and anger. A fielder threw the ball to him. He had now decided what he was going to bowl to Ajju. He ran in and bounced Ajju. The ball hit Ajju on his head, Irfan smirked, and Zaheer threw his bat down and ran towards Ajju who had now collapsed. Zaheer carried him in his arms and ran to the Hakim. He applied a malham to stop the bleeding.

********

“What do you expect me to do?”Hanif bhai shouted at his wife

“I hope you know that all we have to eat is what Salim bhai gives us” he continued

There was a knock at the door. It was Salim bhai’s wife. She had a covered plate in her hand

“I have bought some gosh for Ajju. It will help him feel better” she smiled and walked towards Ajju’s mother. She handed her the plate and walked with her in the kitchen

“I am sorry about what happened, these things happen when children play”

*********

Ajju started working along with his father, it would add to the income of the household. Moreover he had nothing else to do. He couldn’t play cricket. At first he would sit near the maidan and watch other kids play but that was nothing like playing it. So if he had to stop playing it, then he would have to stop watching it.

He would carry the water from the canal to Salim bhai’s farm and water the crops. The canal was also drying up because of the lack of rains, but there was no other source of water. Ajju had once heard that Salim Bhai might stop farming during the summers when the water was scarce. He said he hardly made any money, but he had to feed three extra stomachs instead. Ajju knew this wasn’t a good thing.

*********

At the madrasa, the maulvi told the kids a story

“There was once this poor family, it consisted of a single mother and her kids. She did not earn any money, but she had to feed her children. She did not have the courage to tell her children that there was no food, so what she did was in a huge bowl, she poured in a lot of water. She kept stirring it. Her kids asked her when the food would be ready and she would answer that it would be ready soon She hoped that her kids would sleep soon, till then she would continue stirring the water. Our Khalifa Umar Bin Al Khatab saw this; he went back to his house and bought a huge bag of rice. She cooked the rice and her children did not sleep empty stomach. So the lesson from this story is to have faith in ALLAH. He tests us but will help us in the test. The lady was being tested but she was helped by Allah. It was Allah’s wish that Umar (R.A) help them and he did. So kids have faith in ALLAH, he does everything for our good.”

Ajju knew that this was a test, but he couldn’t see where Allah’s help was coming from. His maulvi had also told him that we must keep praying to Allah and tell him what we want. So Ajju raised his hands towards the heavens after his prayer, and cried. He cried to Allah for help. He did not know why Allah was testing his family, but they needed help. He cried for that help.

*********

Ramadan is a month of blessings. Ajju never understood the meaning of blessing, but his father told him is that Allah sends gifts to everyone from his house.

“Where does Allah stay?”

“He stays above the heavens”

“Are they higher than the sky?”

“Much higher”

Ajju’s mother woke him up early in the morning for sehri. The sehri is the early morning meal Muslims eat just before they start observing their fast. Ajju’s sehri was the leftovers from last night’s iftar.

After their meal Ajju and Hanif bhai did their wadhu (ablution) and left for the mosque. On their way Ajju tapped on Hanif bhai’s hand

“Abbu, I want to drink water”

“Now?” Hanif Bhai asked. Ajju nodded.

“Ok, go rush to our house and drink water before you hear the Azan”

Ajju ran back to his house and had his glass of water. On his way back, he looked high in the sky. There was some kind of noise, a star was moving in the sky. It kept changing it color from red to white. It looked like the blessing his father had told him about. He ran to the mosque shouting

“Allah ki rehmat”

*******

The Faridkot mosque had a visitor during the zuhur (noon) prayer. Maulana Mohammad Tahir was a prominent persona in this region. He had madrasa’s running all over the country. He would listen to kids recite Quran for a few minutes. If he liked it then he would take them to the madrasa and turn them into a Hafiz (A person who remembers the entire Quran by heart). The entire village had assembled outside the mosque to meet him. He loved talking at length about the fazilat (blessings) of Allah. He stayed in the mosque for the two days he was there.

The kids would come to the mosque after the magrib (dusk) prayer. They would carry their Quran and sit in a line, Maulana sahab would call them one and by one and ask them to recite a few verses. He would close his eyes and listen with full attention.

Ajju was also sitting in the mosque. He had seen a few of the Faridkot kids go to the madrasa. They would come once in a month to Faridkot. They carried a lot of gifts for their family. Ajju also wanted to bring gifts for his Abbu and Ammi.

“Ajju, it’s your turn” maulvi sahab announced

Ajju held his Quran close to his heart, and praised the almighty in every step he took towards Maulana Mohammad Tahir. Maulana Mohammad Tahir was sitting in one of the corners of the mosque; a fan was placed in his vicinity to make him feel comfortable. His eyes were closed; he had worn a white turban which went along with his white dishasha (traditional Arabic dress). The Bisht adorning his dishasha was black in colour with golden embroidery. His beard was dyed black and he sported no moustache.

“Tahir sahab, this is Ajju, Hanif Bhai’s son”

Maulana Tahir opened his eyes and greeted the tiny Ajju with a warm smile and a pat on his back

“Ajju, since when have you started the tilawat of the Holy Quran?”

Ajju was nervous, his throat was going dry

“I was small” is all he managed

Maulana Tahir smiled again

“Recite the Holy Quran, I am listening” he said and rested against the corner wall of the mosque. He closed his eyes, ready to absorb and scrutinize every word recited by Ajju from the Quran.

Ajju fumbled with his recitation. He was too scared and nervous to recite properly. There were kids who had better pronunciation, a sweeter voice and recited the Quran better than what Ajju did. He was rejected.

*******

Maulana Tahir had arranged for a bus for all the selected kids. A bus was arranged for them to be taken to the madrasa where they would be turned into pious Muslims. Ajju sat on the porch of the mosque staring at the bus. He wanted to be one of those special kids who would go to the magical land away from Faridkot. Maulana Tahir’s madrasa was Ajju’s escape from the dry canals of Faridkot, the bullies in the maidan. It was a step closer to “Allah ki rehmat”.

Ajju did not take his eyes off the bus door. The lure of the magical land was too good to resist for Ajju and he slid under the back seat of the bus after the Fajar (morning) prayer. The dark below did not scare Ajju anymore; after all he was on his way to meet his destiny.

Ajju is still unsure what his life would have been had he not boarded the bus, had he not met the man he fondly calls “Sheikh”.

*******

“Sir, we have arranged for a car of your choice” Avinash said wearing his customary smile

“And will you be able to set up my office here by evening?” Sameer asked

“It will be ready sir”

Sameer nodded approvingly

“Anything else I can do for you Mr. Marathe?”

“No, that will be all”

“Very well then...”

“Oh I have one more thing to ask” Sameer interrupted “I would like to have a traditional meal tonight”

“Will be done sir” Avinash

Sameer smiled approvingly and Avinash left for his office. Sameer Marathe was one of the important guests in the hotel and Avinash always makes sure to take special care of the guests.

Sameer made his way towards the exit. Every morning is a moment of realization for Sameer. He knows he has come a long way. From a small farmer family to a political player who people want on their side, yes he has come a long way.

What made Sameer different was the fact that on his way he never picked up unnecessary superstitions or beliefs. He looked like a person with a lot of self belief, someone who doesn’t rely on pleasing the supernatural to get his work done. Sameer’s belief in the almighty had thus over a period of time started bordering on the lines of atheism.

The black Maybach was waiting for him at the exit of the hotel. Even before he put his foot on the last step of the descending stair case, the chauffer had opened the door for Sameer. Sameer made his way into the Maybach and they were good to go.

Sameer had come to the city for an “arm twist”. The state was plagued by a lot of political parties and coalition politics was the need of the state. In coalition politics it was important for every small player to make sure that he made his existence known. That is what Sameer Marathe was here for.

The leading party headquarters were at an hour’s drive from the hotel. Sameer always enjoyed these drives. He loved the hustle and bustle of the city unlike his town which loved to move in its own pace. The people were different here. Their lives are so compact that they do not have time to express themselves. Their moment of introspection was always at the two minute signal on their way to work, school or college. If an old man was thinking about the neglect he faces at home every day, the teenage girl was thinking about the boy who sits ahead of her in the class. If the young lady was finding everything about her new marriage beautiful, the nursery going boy was crying because his mother was not around. There was no such thing as private space in the big cities, the city people could never focus on one thing and that is why Sameer was here, where he is today. Sameer would always be focused on the small issues of his town while his counterparts in the city had so much on their hands that they eventually forget what issues won them the elections. They had to take a lot of credit from the bank of favours on the other hand Sameer’s account in the same bank was in surplus. He hardly had much to worry about.

*******

It was sheikh’s order and Ajju had learned to obey it. A big car is not difficult to miss, even if it is in a rich city. Ajmal’s trained eyes would not let the black car out of his sight.

“He loves the black colour” Ajju was told. The colour considered being the colour of class by the rich, but in his world it was the colour for stealth. Something told him that the man in the black car was a bit of both.

Security would have been stronger had they heard noises, but Ajju doesn’t make noises. He listens; he obeys and returns to his master, his Sheikh

*******

Sameer’s phone beeped. It was his secretary who was waiting for him at the headquarters.

“Marathe sahab, where are you? People are waiting for you here”

“I wanted just that” he replied with a smile.

“If you make them wait any longer, Mr Sharma will leave the office”

“Then tell him that he has a lunch planned with me this afternoon”

“But there isn’t!”

“I am sure there is”

*******

Sameer Marathe’s car was waiting outside the party headquarters. Shri Ram Manohar Sharma saw the car and knew that it was his. Sameer Marathe would always play with his own set of rules, and would never change them.

He made his way to Sameer Marathe’s car, leaving his body guards behind. The conversation is always discreet, that’s the way this side of the world works. Sharma opened the door and made his way inside the car.

“So where are we heading for lunch?” Sameer asked

“No where I have another party meeting to attend”

Sameer smiled “I know and I figure you want to be there in a hurry otherwise you might miss the chance with the new actress”

“What in the earth does that mean?”

“I am sure you know more about that than I do”

“Listen I don’t have time for this non sense, tell me why you are here?”

Sameer poured a glass of whisky for Ram Manohar.

“You know very well why I am here. I want the land”

Ram Manohar was exasperated

“You know why I can’t give you the land”

“Because some adhivasis think that the land is sacred? I don’t buy that”

“Well you will have to because even I believe in the holiness of the land”

Sameer poured another one for himself

“I guess then you will have to part with your holy land”

“Don’t you have any morals?”

Sameer continued sipping his whisky

“Aren’t you scared of god?”

The smile returned to his face “I don’t believe in god”

*******

Ajju knew that the right time was approaching, as soon as the person who just entered the car would leave the man in the car wouldn’t have anything else to do and that was the right time. His bag had the ammunition he needed. It was only a matter of time.

*******

Sameer had twisted the right arms. The city people had come to an agreement with him. The land wouldn’t be transferred on his name but in the name of a company. All it needed was an office and a name and Sameer would know how to cover up the roots which trace back to him. It was part of his business.

Sameer started making his way back to the hotel. Tonight he would celebrate before leaving for his town.

His car stopped at the red light. The right door opened and a man jumped in. Sameer tried to reach for his gun but the man held his arm behind his back and placed a piece of cloth on his mouth. It was hazy initially and then darkness settled in.

*******

Sameer was woken up with a splash of water on his face. He slowly opened his eyes, he was unsure where he was, was he even alive? He was tied to a chair with his hands on his back. The room was dark and old. The floor was layered in soil and mud. The walls had taken a lot of beating over the years, the holes in the walls told a story of their own. Behind him was a small table which had rusted over the years. An idol of lord ganesha was placed on it.

He heard footsteps approaching the door. The door opened and the man walked in

“Who are you?” Sameer shouted

The man did not respond. He made his way to the other side of the room, towards the wall Sameer was facing. There was a window; he slowly wiped out the mud from the window panes. The room now had more light.

“I think now we can talk” Ajju said as he walked towards Sameer

“Who are you? What do you want?”

Ajju sat in front of Sameer, on the muddy floor.

“Why don’t you talk? What do you want?”

“I think I need some silence to gather my thoughts, and you are not giving me that. I would appreciate your silence”

Ajju slowly took a cigarette out of his pocket. He placed in between his lips and tried to light it.

“I don’t know how to smoke, I am sure you know how to, do you?”

Sameer did not reply

“I don’t think this conversation is going anywhere if you don’t answer my question”

Sameer nodded.

“So you know how to smoke” Ajju pushed himself towards Sameer and stood on his knees. He pushed the cigarette in Sameer’s mouth and drew the lighter towards him. Sameer took a few drags of the cigarette to light it. Ajju pulled it outside his mouth.

“So this is how you light it?” and took a drag. Ajju started coughing.

He got up and pulled Sameer’s hair

“Why do you people smoke? Tell me why do you people smoke” he said shouting even more louder

“I don’t know” Sameer started crying “I don’t know why people smoke, I don’t know who you are and I don’t know why you are doing this, I don’t know”

“Then let me tell you” Ajju pushed Sameer. Sameer fell of the chair on his back. Ajju threw the cigarette on the floor and stepped on it, crushing it and put it off.

“I am here to do this”

“Why?” Sameer was even more scared “What did I ever do to you?”

“The decision to smoke was mine and to put off the cigarette was also mine. So is this.”

Ajju took a gun outside his pocket and aimed it at Sameer. He shot the rope which held Sameer’s hands together. Sameer’s hands were free. He got up facing the table behind him; he stumbled and could only grab the ganesha on the table. The second bullet hit Sameer; his eyes were fixed on Ganesha.

He prayed.

*******

The bus reminded him of his first journey. The journey began many years ago. He thought it would take him to a magical world but instead what he saw was the real world. Hatred and Power ruled the real world.

After the rude shock he realized what he was here for. His sheikh told him that everyone on the earth comes with a purpose. Ajju’s purpose was difficult and trying but he will have to fulfil it.

“You will have to wear many masks, sometimes the mask of an angel and at times the mask of a devil”

“O sheikh, you told me that everything in this world can be won by the good. Then why wear the mask of a devil.”

Sheikh had expected Ajju to ask the question

“Ajmal, you are still very young. That is why you ask these questions. Sometimes it is necessary to reach the destination and not think about the road. It will be these roads you will tread wearing the mask of the devil”

“How different is acting evil from being evil?”

“Like that of salt and sugar. They might look the same but are they?”

The sound of the brakes stopped Ajju from thinking. A small kid entered the bus with the newspapers while the bus was at a halt. He paid the kid for the newspaper and started reading it but his mind wandered back to many years ago.

“Why should I use violence as my weapon?”

“My son, everything is a weapon in this world. It depends on you, use it judiciously. You are the man of god and your job is to show others the way”

A newspaper report caught his eye.

“My son Ajmal, you show them the path to the almighty, you give them the gift of faith”

The headline said “The story of Sameer Marathe: His return to Faith”

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Footnotes:
I think this will be one of the longer posts of Blog-a-ton. Now that you are reading this I assume that you have read it ( Phew!!)...do let me know what you think about it.

55 Fiction- Freedom

2010-08-25T11:57:00.000+05:30

The earth outside the window of a train was covered in a blanket of green.

His torn and tattered clothes couldn't down his enthusiasm.

He was a prince and he was running away from his palatial home.

He never knew what freedom was and now for the first time in his life

He was free.

Footnotes:

This is my third attempt at 55 Fiction, I don't know how good it is and would be eagerly waiting for your thoughts.

To promote this post on Indivine click here.

Guess who won the Caption Contest

2010-08-24T09:54:00.000+05:30

My first competitive award!!!

I won the caption contest hosted by Lazy Pineapple on her Blog. To read the caption and then congratulate me for it click here .

This was last week, but like I have been saying I am suffering from a poor internet connection and finding it really difficult to post anything out here. This is one odd time when it is running fine so I took this chance.

Thanks Vinita ( lazy Pineapple) for awarding me this. BTW you guys must participate in the competition, the pictures are really nice.

A Special independence

2010-08-15T17:02:00.000+05:30

Its 63 years now. On the 15th of August every year, we watch those patriotic programs which have been stored by the television channels for this day. We see them and with a sense of irony change the channels cursing the state of the nation.

Now first things first, our state is not as bad as it sounds. Yes I dare to say that even when the entire CWG committee is torn down by the media for corruption. I don't know if Kalmadi was involved in the corruption or not( really?...lets discuss that for later), but the fact is that we need to carry ourselves together and make sure that the show is a success( I don't know how but its a cliche and i had to say it). For the rest of it, our country is doing well. There is one half of the country which is living luxuriously and is content with life. The rural or the BVP population will only grow from here. A good economy is like a wave and it is only about time that this wave washes off the poverty in our country to a good extent if not entirely.

I agree I am very optimistic about things, but I don't know any better. I tend to believe that when you feel good about yourself good things will happen to you. And that is where I feel we need to start looking at the positives we have. May be we have not been successful in eradicating poverty and other epidemics from our country entirely but we have done much better than the so called developed nations. I wish the media would have highlighted the fact that India dealt with Swine Flu in a much more efficient manner than a lot of other countries. All we need is more awareness and epidemics will surely be taken care of. Awareness is easily said and done and that is the precise reason why I plead for patience.

I am getting carried away but returning to the point of feeling good about ourselves, I remember reading an article by our ex president Dr APJ Abdul Kalam who said that the media is very negative in India. When he was on a tour to Israel, the news of blasts, murders , accidents and the kind never found the first three pages of the newspapers. Now compare that to our papers, we also have scary looking and acting people hosting shows about the murders and rapes happening in our country. How do you expect to feel good about yourself after all this.

May be I am not qualified enough for this, but if I have to say something about our nation, we are still prisoners of our thoughts and negativity. We need independence from this attitude of ours which no one can do for us. Its upon ourselves to do that.

Footnotes:

Jai Hind!!!

Good Bye -Blog a ton 13

2010-08-07T20:00:00.000+05:30

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 13; the thirteenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Sameer stood gazing at the skyline from his executive suite. Life has a strange knack of turning around in very little time and Sameer’s life has just seen one. His life now had a meaning, a mission something he was always in search of.

His phone rang

“Sir, we have found them” The voice cracked.

Sameer smiled and hung up. He walked towards the giant mirror in the dressing room. His hair was pulled back; a couple of wrinkles had just begun to appear on his forehead. He was still fair, and had matured into a handsome young man. He was wearing a black Armani jacket, over a crisp white shirt. He belonged to the league of young, rich and handsome.

The hotel phone beeped, his car was ready. Sameer left his executive suite towards the car waiting for him. This was going to be a special day.

****************

Sameer was sitting alone on the porch of his department watching the settingsun, looking for inspiration. Jia noticed him sitting alone on the porch.

“Hey Sameer”

“Hi” he said and moved to his right making place for Jia to sit.

“So you wrote something?”

“Nopes, I have a lot of stray ideas but I am not able to put that together”

“Why don’t you write something first, however it is maybe you can capitalize on that?”

“I can do that, I don’t think anything else is going to work. I might as well try this” Sameer said

Jia smiled approvingly and pushed close her eye lids for a fleeting second

“What was that?” Sameer asked

“What?” Jia was surprised

“An eye hug”

“Eye hug?”

“What you just did with your eyes, it’s an eye hug”

“And what did I just do with my eyes?”

“Well when you close your eyes tightly, even if it is for a second, you are showing a similar facial expression as you would have, had you hugged someone. So when there is not too much love but there is little love, people eye hug”

There was Sameer’s inspiration.

***************

Rahul ran to the basketball court. Kunal was practising for the game in the evening.

“Kunal” Rahul shouted “Sameer has had an accident; he fell down from the bike”

“What? Where is he?”

“The guys took him to the hospital nearby”

“You know the hospital right?”

Rahul nodded

“Take me there”.

Kunal rushed to the hospital. Sameer was asleep and his right leg was in a plaster. Jia was sitting beside him. Kunal entered the room

“Why in the earth did you have to give him your bike?” Jia shouted at Kunal

“I did not”

“Then how did he get the bike, it is all because of you people that has happened. All you can do is tease him for not knowing how to drive a bike. Are you happy now or you wanted to break a few more bones of his?”

“See, I understand your concern for him, and Whitey is my roommate too. So please shut up” Kunal said, and stormed out.

Sameer woke up because of the sound “What happened” he enquired

Jia walked to his bedside.

“I am sorry, I shouted at Kunal.”

“Why? How is it his fault?”

“Would you have tried driving the bike had he not teased you so much?”

Sameer smiled “Jia, why did you do that?”

“I was worried for you” Jia said slipping her hand into his

“I am fine Jia, see both my hands are still strong enough to hug you”

Jia smiled and hugged Sameer. Sameer could feel her breath on his neck. She was slowly moving away from him, and now her breath was moving very close to his and their lips met.

************

“Whitey, are you hungry?”

“Nopes”

“I am” Kunal said

Sameer put his book aside and walked towards the kitchen and started cooking for Kunal.

Kunal walked to the kitchen dribbling a football.

“Whitey”

“Yes Kunal”

“Why did you learn cooking?”

“Well so that I can cook food for you”

Kunal chuckled “That was funny bro, but you know chicks dig that thing”

“Yes they do, but I like cooking that’s why I learned it”

“By the way Whitey, what plans after college, there is hardly any time left”

“You are right man, let’s go for a drive, we will eat out”

“No cash man” Kunal said showing his empty pockets.

“It’s on me”.
They had dinner and went towards the creek. Sameer and Kunal sat on the bonnet of Sameers car listening to the waves.
"I wish this time would never pass" Sameer said
Kunal was lost in the sound of the waves and did not respond

*********

Sameer reached outside a small bungalow in the outskirts of the city. He rang the bell. Jia opened the door.

She was surprised and shocked to see Sameer outside her house

“Kunal” she shouted “Sameer is here”. She was still dumbstruck

“Can I come in?” Sameer asked

Jia shook her head slightly and let Sameer in. Kunal rushed to the living room. Sameer stood up and saw Kunal.

Kunal hugged Sameer like long lost brothers

“Where were you whitey?”

“Very far away, I am sorry”

“Look at you man, you look so different”

Sameer wiped a stray tear from his cheek and the two sat chatting like kids who have met after a long vacation.

“After dad expired I had to take care of the entire business. It wasn’t easy, I lost a lot then. I think its time I live some time for myself”

“You must man. It’s so nice to see you”

“I am sorry to interrupt you guys, but there is no food at home. Let’s go outside and have dinner” Jia suggested

Sameer’s smile widened

“I will cook” Sameer stood up and walked towards the kitchen. Kunal and Jia followed him to the kitchen. They decided on what to cook. Kunal went out to bring a drink.

“Sameer, I wanted to tell you about me and Kunal, but you were not there”

Sameer raised his hand softly

“Don’t worry Jia; I am not here for that. I am here for both of you”

“You never found someone in all this years?”

“I will explain, but not now. For now let me concentrate on my cooking”

And the cooking resumed.

The food was ready and decorated but Kunal was still not there. Jia dialled Kunal’s phone and walked to the other room.

When she returned to the living room Sameer was not there. There was a letter left on the corner table. Jia opened the letter

Jia,

I wanted to answer all your questions. I will try my best to answer, but I am sorry if I missed out on anything.

I vanished after our exams because my dad wasn’t well. I think you know about that. But I never thought I would be entrusted will all the work so soon.I couldn't write anymore.I still can't. I will start all over again hopefully.

About us, I know there was something between us. But it couldn’t have gone far. I am not normal, I have loved a few girls but I was not in love. It was outer love and my soul was still empty. I realized that I was in love with someone.Some one who was always there, someone who understood me. I am talking about Kunal.
I love him, may be after years of staying together I developed a liking for him which was beyond what society and Kunal would accept.

I am now satisfied after meeting Kunal and you. The two of you are the best people I have ever met and the most important ones. I am suffering from pancreatic cancer and my doctors haven’t given me much time. This was the last time I would look like this. It will only get worse from here. I don’t want you to see me like that, so I came here to say good bye

Good bye Jia,

Good bye Kunal

I love you both

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Message

2010-07-14T07:15:00.000+05:30

Annas was sitting among the stones on the Mount Jaza. He was in midst of his meditation when he was summoned by Kabeer. It was only Kabeer who could summon anyone whom he wished and he would never be denied. He was the most pious man in the small pious town of Al waraa’. Nobody knew how he reached the town, or who he really was, but the people of Al waraa’ welcomed him any way. He seemed to have the magical touch, a touch which was blessed upon only few and hence the people of this small town never let him go.

“Annas, not always do I have a request, but today is different and my heart gives me immense pleasure when I see that you have been chosen for the most important task of my life.”

Annas was joyous, people went to Kabeer to seek help and here was the great man asking him to do the most important task of his life.

“I would do anything for you O Kabeer”

“I am pleased to hear that pious man, but I would like you to hear what you have to do”

“Surely O mighty Kabeer, but I my answer is that of a man whose word is immovable just like the caves of Mount Jaza”

Kabeer smiled and continued

“I want you to leave Jaza and go to the forests, collect the finest of wood enough to make an ark. Take this ark and go to the bank of the river that flows in the town of Al waraa’ and make the ark.”

Annas was worried and asked “Is it a fault of mine for which I have been asked to leave this town?, or is the town of Al waraa’ going to face the wrath of nature?”

“No my brother, you are the purest of spirit and it is only the purest of spirit who is asked for a sacrifice”

“Where is it that I have been asked to go?”

“The ark you make will guide you to your destination Annas.”

“What about my brothers, Kabeer?”

“They will be with you”

Annas was happy that his brothers will be with him for this journey and left for the woods. He collected the strongest of wood. He carried the wood over the mules he found at the woods.

He started making the ark at the bank of the river. A few brothers saw him making the ark and asked him

“Why is it that the pious man is making something as huge as this? Have you started craving for the worldly pleasures and want to leave the town of Al waraa’?”

“I never had a craving for worldly pleasures and will never crave it. If there is anything I crave for then it is my task and if you believe this pious man then talk not much of it, but give a helping hand”

And the brothers started helping Annas in building the ark. The help increased and every day a few brothers brought wood, some brought food and water for the tired brothers and some worked when others were tired.

The ark was ready when the second full moon rose high in the sky. The town of Al waraa’ was now settled near the banks of the river.

While his brothers were admiring the beautiful ark, Annas was summoned by Kabeer.

“The ark is beautiful O pious man, and now I must fulfill my duty of letting you to set sail”

“But my brothers are tired and will fall asleep in the while; I will set sail at dawn when the sun will guide us”

“Annas, O pious man, your brothers are not destined to be on this ark. It is you who must set sail”

“Then why is it that the sacrifice is asked only of me when the town of Al waraa’ is the purest of soul?”

“You are the purest of all O Annas. It is the purest of spirit who is asked to sacrifice and you are the purest of all”

“What is it that I will have to sacrifice?”

“You have been asked to leave this town and set sail to lands far away. Let them see the man of the purest of spirit come to them. Bless those who are the darkest of spirit, so that they do not meet the others but curse those with a spirit as pure as yours. For the purest of spirit, should move to far off lands, so that the purest of spirit cover the face of mother earth”

“What about my brothers?”

“Have you not understood as yet, that the town of Al waraa’ is cursed! Your brothers will leave the town too, to spread the message”

“And when would I know that my purpose is achieved?”

“When you meet your brother at the other end of mother earth, you would know that your message has been sent and your purpose is achieved”

Annas walked to the bank of the river where the magnificent ark shone in the light of the full moon. He climbed the ark while his brothers were sleeping. And set sail to the lands far off.

Footnotes:

This is my tribute to Kahlil Gibran, the man who wrote beautifully about the spirit. The story is adapted from various spiritual learnings. Here the names of the town and the characters of the story also have a meaning and would help you understand the bigger picture of the story, but thats an effort you will have to take.

Hope you like reading it.

Image courtesy: thefuturebuzz.com
to vote for this post on Indivine click here

A good bye

2010-07-07T22:24:00.000+05:30

The cleaner switched off the lights in the bay before leaving. Gopi was still sitting in his cubicle. There were many such days were Gopi left his bay way after the lights were turned off.

This time he would leave only not to return to his bay. Nostalgia had already clouded his thinking. The blinking of his computer monitors reminded him of countless evenings he spent reaching deadlines, making sure that everything was ready for the next morning, and so many such things.

He was leaving a huge part of himself here, along with friends and colleagues. He was asked to take with him all that was important. Ironically it is not possible to take all you want. All he would take with him would be memories.

Some memories are wonderful and some memories are not, like this one. If only he could buy a little more time from the universe, but there is a reason why we cannot. Anything and everything can only last for as long as they are to. That is why we have good memories to carry us through when times are bad and some not so good memories to remind us why we need to live and make good memories.

Gopi opened his Office Communicator list for the last time, going through the long list of names he had a chance to meet and talk. Every one had spend time with Gopi and vice versa, and it only made him realize how so many people can influence you in deciding the road you need to take, but no one can stop the destined.

At the end of the list were a few names which were no longer available. The names were some of those who Gopi spent a lot of time interacting with, he realized the sand in the sand watch was getting over; it was time to turn it over. Tomorrow there will be another name in a few lists which will no longer be available.

Footnotes:

I have written this post after a while, but this time my hiatus was forced thanks to a lousy internet connection. This is one post I had written but unfortunately couldn't post. I have a lot more to write...

Thanks for reading

Cleaning up my closet

2010-06-06T19:24:00.000+05:30

There are skeletons in my closet. Am I the only one with skeletons?, I hope not, because in good or bad having another person with you is always comforting.

I have an image of this guy who cannot do much wrong, and I have done everything to make sure that I am that guy. But there are anomalies in every system. I remember a story by M.K.Gandhi, where he had stolen money from his father when he was small, even he was human he said; so am I.

I don't know how grave my sins are, I don't know for how long I will dwell in my grave for these sins,but I think I will confess it, may be that will help me get strength to carry on and do what is right.

The year was 2008, I had just quit my job at EXL services. I was showing off, with a credit card. I amassed a good amount to be paid. I paid the due amounts and the interest remained. Now I have to pay around 4 grand in total today.

I don't know If I should pay it,but as the situation stands I will. I want to keep a credit card again, but altogether different reasons. I will gradually decide on how to clear these payments and hopefully some day I will be able to use a credit card again!!

PS: If you guys have any idea as to how I can by pass the system and get a card now..then please do!!!

The Chase

2010-05-26T04:04:00.000+05:30

2:00 am- I was on my way back home after a pleasure ride. The moon was hiding behind the roof of a newly constructed high rise, only scattering its light from the edges. The occasional wind blowing was something to treasure and a respite from the heat. The clouds were scattered, as if nature was attempting its hand at abstract art. [ funny thing about abstract art: you don't understand a shit about it unless the person is drunk].

I reached the junction to my house and my pleasure time was over. Stealth was the word. I switched off the headlights of my bike. I drove it at a very low speed to ensure that not much noise was made. I felt for my shirt pocket to ensure that my keys are in my pocket.

My phone rang.

My cover was compromised, I was spotted. There were growls, barks and howls. The Chase had begun. I drove as quickly as I could. They chased and chased and chased. The chase for them was like a relentless pursuit of something important in life. I don't have even the remotest idea about what it could be and I don't want to know.

2:30 am- I rushed my bike into the parking and closed the main gate. I sat on my bike breathing heavily. I wiped off the beads of sweat on my forehead. The Chase was unsuccessful I don't know for how long I would continue winning. I am sure the law of averages would catch up one day. I dread that day. I reached for my phone to check who had blown off my cover. It was my friend . I called him back

"why did you call ?" I asked

"Wanted to know if you were chased by the dogs today!!"

Footnotes:
Stray dogs are a menace which irritate so many people in India and has lead to many accidents too. One including a close friend of mine who had a serious fall from a bike because of a stray dog. I think we should be more alert as citizens and make sure that the concerned authorities know about this situation and proper action is taken.

Image courtesy: 4thstreetpokertour.typepad.com

Signing off

Shady West side!!!

PS: I know a new name, do you guys like it?

To live like that!!!

2010-05-24T12:50:00.000+05:30

It was a rough patch. The times were trying. I would raise my arm to see the watch, it wouldn't work. I was under pressure.Under pressure one loses his ability to think rationally leading to miscalculations and errors. I did a lot of errors. I prayed that the phase get over soon, but it seems the big guy was busy listening to someone else.

And that is why god made parents, siblings, lovers and friends. There are certain pieces of your life you share with each of these. During this particular phase I had a friend. He has got superhero tendencies, he is called the Arghasmer( pronounced Orgas-mer).Like all superheros he prefers wearing his under pants outside, but here the only difference is that he doesn't wear it over his pants, coz he doesn't wear pants!( almost all the times). He doesn't have a cape, he can fly without it.

He might sound like a silly superhero, but every one here is for a purpose. He has his own, he keeps his friends happy. I found him there for me when i needed him. He heard out my issues, listened carefully. Never said much. And at the end of it, his eyes became small with a glint of mischief, a naughty smile sat on his face and said

" Lets drink Black and White"

He made me a drink and made two for himself. With every sip of black and white he slipped into an orgasm only he can fall into!!!.

Cheers to a great friend!!!

Its an Honor!!!

2010-05-18T15:00:00.000+05:30

It is such a pleasant surprise Sneha!!!. I am so glad that you thought I deserved this award

The rule is :

In order to accept the award, you have to post it on your blog with the name of the person who awarded it to you including the link to his/her blog.

Pass it on 5-10 followers on your own.

Contact those followers and let them know that they have been chosen for the award!!

I award this to:

And just to add, I am glad sneha thought my blog was versatile...I am overjoyed to say the least!!!

Footnotes:

I have changed the comment form on the blog. I hope it will be much more convenient to every one now to drop in a word!!!

Back to a Beginning

2010-05-16T16:15:00.000+05:30

I had always promised that one fine day I will let all of you people know the story behind the name of the blog and how it all started. Its time I keep that promise of mine.

Believe it, this blog is probably one of the oldest blogs around. I posted for the first time on the 18th of December 2007. It has been more than three years and I haven't completed hundred posts. So this has been a slow burner. My posts have been cyclic, by cyclic I mean to say, the frequency of the posts are cyclic. There are times when I would write posts every second day, while I would go without a post for months. This probably explains a lot about me. There are times when I am unable to do things which I always wanted to do, but I have never lost hope. I still live in hope that, one day this blog will be a famous one. I hope that one day my writing would be recognized. I dont know if this will ever happen but sane reasoning is not my cup of tea.
I am a dreamer

I guess there is another question which quite a few of you might be asking( I don't know how many of you will actually read it). Why now?

Well think about it. Its been two weeks and I haven't come up with any post. The recent posts have not got a response. It is almost like I am starting out all over again. Now that I have answered that question let me tell you how I started blogging:

I was working for EXL service during the winter of 2007. I was doing well there and was also honored with the performer of the month for the month of November. I had lost touch with my writing for years then.

I was driving my way to office when I saw this small girl standing on the pavement. She signaled me to stop. I did not pay attention, but her desperate plead for help did catch my attention. I stopped my bike and turned around. I saw another guy standing in front of her. I sensed danger and I drove back. She rushed to me and held my arm. The other guy drove away.

I asked her what she was doing out there so late in the night. She said she was kidnapped and brought to Pune. She wanted to go back to her hometown in Gujarat. I thought of dropping her at the station, but something told me I shouldn't. I told her that I would be giving her money for the ticket and rickshaw,but she would have to go to the station alone.

Even before I could turn around to take money out of my wallet, she had pulled out a shining knife. I managed to button start my bike and rush out in a matter of seconds. I was safe .

This incident had an affect on me. I was depressed for a while, but then I decided to fight it out by telling people these stories, and hence the blog and the URL.

In hindsight, it was a freaky incident. But you know guys, its direct result was that I started writing all over again. I have improved as a writer ( may be only a little), I have made some wonderful friends through this blog and guess what I think this was one of the best things that happened to me

Escape Blog-a Ton 10

2010-05-01T23:00:00.000+05:30

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 10; the tenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

There would have been many days better than today. The grey clouds and the occasional thunder accompanied by lightning did not make the day look anymore auspicious. But he had to go ahead with it, after all it was a plan and he had to execute it.

His phone rang

“Yes” he answered

“Dude, where in the world are you?”

“Here, kicking”

“Is everything ok?”

“Yes, I am actually hooked on to some kind of work right now; can I talk to you later?”

“Ok (surprised)”

He switched the phone off.

He turned around and saw himself surrounded by mountains dressed in green; the sun was hiding behind the clouds. It would have been great to see the sun but he did not have the time, he had something more important. So he kick started his bike and left the garb of Mother Nature he was holding on to.

The lush greens were turning to beautiful browns, it was a sign, and it meant that the city was approaching. It took him back to the very first time he saw this city, it wasn't the concrete jungle it is. There were lesser people, but together they were much happier than they are today. He loved the rains the city welcomed him with, and that is when he fell in love with it.

The thunder grew louder but that couldn’t stop him in his mission, his plan was the inevitable. As he approached the city, it reminded him of something special. Every first is a special, first pen, the first car, the first kiss, first love. This city gave him all his firsts, but what did he do. He found the love of his life here, but couldn’t he love the city a little more in return?

As a young man, he always lived his life to the fullest. He was adored and envied at the same time. It doesn’t take the long for an evil eye to cast a spell, and spell it did cast.

He had already entered the city, it was supposed to be afternoon and the traffic was moderate. He would soon reach the city bridge.

It was one beautiful afternoon, when he was living his beautiful life when suddenly everything went wrong. A drunken night, an injection and a disease; his life was changed forever. He carried the disease for a long time without even knowing about it, but eventually it did show its ugly head. All he could do was to face it for as long as possible

He reached the city bridge; he parked his bike on the pavement and sat on the floor with his back on the bike. He took out a note which he had written long back

~~Hi;~~ ~~Hey~~

I want to start this in a good way, but there is no good way. Yes I have been diseased, I have been diseased when I was living my life, and now this disease is about to take it away. I don’t know if it was my mistake, was living life the fullest at all times a mistake. Should I have stayed indoors with fear? I don’t think so, and so I again decided to do things just the way I have done, just the way I want, according to my will entirely.

No I am not ending my life, I lived life faster. I did everything I ever wanted to, visited every place I wanted to, met everyone who mattered.

So this is not the end of my life.

This is my escape.

The winds grew strong; they embraced him for a moment and then snatched the note from him. He saw the note glide with the wind, and he smiled. He put all the weight in the bag. He searched his jacket, to find something. He found the injection; he uncapped the needle and poked it into his arm slowly injecting it inside his body. It started taking effect almost immediately. He raised his head to catch a glimpse of the sun, the clouds had started moving away from the sun, but his legs gave away and he fell from the bridge.

There was a huge splash, the sound of the city vanished above the waters and the sunlight came through the clouds and shone above his head, but it turned dark again.

He had escaped.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Ridiculously yours..

2010-04-23T09:27:00.000+05:30

All lessons in life are learnt in a weird and sometimes difficult ways. I walk on the streets of Pune, a beloved city of mine, I hope and pray that the city remains the same for its charm. So what if there is a constantly increasing slum population?, increasing number of potholes, the number of stray dogs who chase the hell out of us at nights?. Why do I expect the city to remain the same when I will not?. Just one of the more selfish ways the human mind works.

I don't think I will stop myself one bit if I end up on the receiving end of the bad side of Pune ( my previous posts stand proofs), just like the guy who met with a serious accident because a stray dog was chasing him, or some one who fell in a pothole he couldn't see, or a bihari guy who cannot proudly say he is a,bihari when he is renting out a house. The list is endless..

Yesterday I saw a huge group of people who had assembled around a couple of guys throwing punches at each other. I am sure I will find the video on YOU TUBE in some time (Just like you people found it on my blog..), the two guys met with an accident on the road, and who was at fault would be decided by the victor of this competition. If our roads had cctv cameras installed, then I am sure TV channels would start coming up with the footage and ask viewers to vote and decide who was at fault. The result would be announced a la Indian Idol...Janta ne kise chuna hain..and the winner would punch the other real hard in front of an audience and will fulfill his maa ka sapna.

The age we have arrived at is wonderful, we have an opinion about anything and everything and the Indian tendency of dialog baazi will never go. The proof to the fact are the words of an oldie having his tea at a tapri ( a place were, debates more meaningful than our parliament house happen) when a debate around the current IPL scam ensued. He said : When clothes need to be ironed twice, how can you expect the nation to be honest just like that!!
Bravo my friend, you just won a Razzie for those words of yours

This is the world we live in...Teda hai par mera hain!!!

Footnotes:
All the characters in the above post are fictitious and are the piece of imagination of a guy who likes to call himself the Tale Weaver (ya right!!). So you know who just won a Razzie (your guess is as good as mine)

Things are back in place

2010-04-14T22:22:00.000+05:30

Yes Finally, things are back to normal. I have settled into my new house pretty well. Work has been hectic and fun at the same time.

I am going to keep this short because I want to start writing stories for you ppl to enjoy( hopefully). I will be up and active very soon.

Till then

Keep well fellas!!!

A few days more

2010-04-02T00:31:00.000+05:30

First of all, Thank you every one for supporting me for what I went through. I must admit that I had lost my mind for sometime, and I shouldnt have so, I apologize to everyone whom felt offended by the previous post . There is a way to actually make right of the wrong I did, but I think I will need your support. Seema, a blogger, had suggested to send him get well soon cards!. I would need your support, I dont know what exactly I want to do, so I think you people will have to pitch in with some ideas...Do keep them coming, and lets see where we can go with it

In the meantime, I must again apologize for being irregular with my blog. I promise I will start writing regularly once I settle down in the new apartment( which BTW is much better than the one I was denied..so I have more to celebrate).

There is one last thing before I sign off, I want someone to do me a favor. Whoever is good with Photoshop, please try and design a display image for my blog. I dont want anything very colorful, a simple and decent one would do. So if there is anyone who can actually do that for me I would be very grateful

Thanks in advance

( keep your ideas and suggestions coming)

Shahid

Throw all Muslims out of India!!

2010-03-28T22:27:00.000+05:30

I know I promised you guys in my last post that I will be blogging regularly, but unfortunately I couldn't and unfortunately the reason for that is not pleasant.

Most of you would know that I am in the process of moving to another place ( my moms leaving the country, so its only me and my bro who will be staying!). It was taking unusually long to find a place, and even I had lost patience to be honest. And then I found an ad on magic bricks of a certain Nitin Wadekar who wanted the house to be rented out. The rent was something I could afford so I called him up and decided to see the flat. We saw the flat and liked it too. The discussions were carried out and we agreed on each others terms and conditions.

So it was this Saturday when we decided to sign the contract. Things turned fishy when he started avoiding my calls and well disaster struck when he called and said that he doesn't want to give the flat because his wife's relatives are interested and they will be moving in( my first instinct said that it was crap and as I investigated further it proved right). I asked a friend to call and he agreed to the same terms and conditions as I had in fact at a lower deposit amount so money wasn't really the factor.

The factor was my religion. I was infuriated and agitated, if he had an issue , he should have clarified earlier. Put yourself in my shoes and imagine, my entire family is going to shift to another country in a matter of three days, yes three days and I have no house.

Our country has become a hypocrite, we can watch and applaud movies having a touch of nationalism, we stand together for the national anthem, but after that its all over.( Don't think this is the first time this has happened to me, this has always happened a number of times). I can try forgiving people, but how many times?. Previously I thought it is the uneducated people, but well Mr Nitin works for DRDO( Defence Research and Development Organisation...yes for the DEFENCE).

You know I feel as if I have no nation here, why did our people die to keep this country united when this wasn't going to happen anyways. Wouldn't it have been better if each and every one of them would have got what they wanted then no one would have complained. I wish and pray that leaders like Raj and Balasaheb succeed in throwing the Muslims outside India.

The Doppler Effect

2010-03-13T16:34:00.000+05:30

Mr Christian Doppler, in 1842, had said that the frequency of waves increases when the distance between the source and receiver decreases and vice versa. They say science is the study of life, and Mr Doppler had studied life well.

I am sure he would have studied human tendencies well to come up with this theory of his, because the Doppler effect is also true in case of the human behavior. Spare a thought, is it not very often that very close friends are never close once they have moved away?. Sometimes we cannot come up with a few words to share with our teachers, when we could yap to glory during our school days, It becomes difficult for you to bother to call an ailing closed one, when once you would rush to them when they had a headache?.

Yes, Doppler effect does exist, and to be honest it is the rule of this life, out of sight is out of mind, isn't it?. The Doppler effect just shows how unfair life can be, life doesn't let things to be the same for more than a moment. And hence never in our entire life, we have more than a moment to spare!.

Eventually life teaches you everything, but it is up to us, to take what we want and leave what we don't!.

Footnotes:

I am sorry to have been off the blogosphere for so long. My net connection was down and it didn't look light starting up again. Well, now that it is up and active, watch this space, I will do what I am good at, Blogging

A terrible injury

2010-02-28T13:19:00.000+05:30

Last night I was watching the match between Stoke city and Arsenal. The game was been played at a good pace, and Arsenal was playing well.

Then a tragic thing happened. Aaran Ramsey, a 19 year old welsh player, got injured. The injury was terrible, his leg snapped from the knee and was taken off the field immediately. The extent of the injury can only be understood, when the broadcaster did not show replays of the tackle, Ryan Shawcross who tackled Ramsey left the field in tears after seeing the injury.

I know injuries can be part and parcel of the game, but this was crazy and very very bad. Arsene Wenger was furious, he thinks there is a conspiracy against his players. I find it difficult to believe that, and well teams are definitely playing a physical game nowadays but its happened to Arsenal players more often.

I don't want to try and find an explanation, I can't. Its just that the injury was so bad that I was shocked and upset.

I wish Ramsey a quick recovery and a great career ahead!!!

And for those few who want to see the injury ( make sure you can see it coz its bad) click here

Who else but him

2010-02-24T22:52:00.000+05:30

Hail the gr8 Sachin Tendulkar......No words are enough and apt!!!.......

Image courtesy: www.thedailystar.net

The Bridge

2010-02-20T23:33:00.000+05:30

Hi, my name is Shantanu. I don't know my fathers name. If family is a word then for me family would be the owner of the grocery store I work at. The only thing this world has given me is a name, the other things I have got are things I never wanted.
The grocery store I work in is in the heart of the city. The city is a concrete jungle painted in grey. I have lived here all my life.Its scary during the nights, the grey becomes black and the shadows under the simmering road lights chase you.The thin lanes are home to everything which the human civilization has admonished.

I can see the city from window of the store. Every one here is in a rush, to reach their destination. They don't know why they have been doing this all their lives, but they don't have time to think about it. Every one is in a rush, to reach their destination.

My day starts when the dark sky turns into grey. The sun never rises. It is the sound of people rushing to their destinations that wakes me up. I dont know how they get up, maybe they hear other people, maybe they can see the sunrise somewhere...But in my world here there is no sunrise.

Talking about my work, the store I work in is not that big, but because it is in the heart of the city there is a lot of business.It is very monotonous, I remember the prices of all the things we sell, to the extent that , I can tell the cost of a chocolate biscuit in semi consciousness.

When I am not packing bags for customers or collecting money, I am dreaming. I am dreaming of walking on the bridge right across the road. People say that only losers walk on that bridge. That is why I have not told anyone about my desire of walking on this bridge. I have sat in the lane opposite the mouth of the bridge, trying to see what is at the end of it, but I couldn't. The bridge had something magnetic about it. It wasn't grey, and was surrounded by the blue of the ocean and the sky, an occasional white cloud added to the beauty of the bridge. This bridge was for losers and I was one of them, but something stopped me from going there.

There are days when the grey was grayer and the black was darker, but this day the bridge was more beautiful. The blue, white and blue was enticing but something was stopping me . I entered my grey world not knowing that today would be different.

A few men forced their way into the store. Their faces were covered with a black cloth, and they were armed. It looked like a heist. They would take away everything costly from the store, I thought. But they were looking for something else or maybe someone. Who could it be?..I asked myself hidden under the counter, trying to see through the glass below. Their footsteps rushed rapidly towards the counter. A hand went round my collar and pulled me over the counter. Their eyes rested on me for a moment, and after a quick acknowledge by one of them, I was thrown out of the store, through the glass panes.

I lay on the footpath, with blood gushing from my hand and head. My blood fell on the asphalt road and the red slowly mixed with the black. It made a path of its own on this road, the path was headed towards the bridge.
I smiled. I could see the sun rise from the other side of the bridge. I pulled myself up, the blood was gone, the wound was no longer there.I could see what was on the end of the bridge.

All my questions were answered as I walked on the bridge

Footnotes:

Image courtesy: www.smashingapps.com

To vote for this post on Indivine click here
I have attempted to write an Allegory. Allegory is a figurative mode of representation conveying a meaning other than the literal.
I don't know how successful I have been in this attempt, so guys do let me know.

A valentines day I will remember

2010-02-14T17:23:00.000+05:30

Last evening I was love struck, it was valentines day eve. I wasn't expecting anything romantic to happen but an unknown person had different plans. The beautiful city I have fallen in love with was hurt, the city where I learned to live the way I do today was burnt.

I am not the most courageous of all people, and I will be the first to admit. I have never seen anything of this kind so close to me, I had nightmares last night, I could only dream about bomb blasts last night. I don't know who did it, I don't know why he did it, congrats man...you were successful. You just killed someones son,who was just like you are, you killed someones husband, who was just like you, a child will never see its father again, a child who is like your own. If this was your motto congrats man...you were successful.

I don't know why I am writing this, I don't know if this is making sense, but to be honest I am tired of this. Like me there are so many others who are tired of this.

I only wish there was a way to stop this.

And thank you Bala saheb and SRK, you did a brilliant job at distracting our already depleted police force for your own personal issues. I wish Bala saheb and Raj would have done as much work as they talk, this place would have been a better place, as for now leave us marathis alone, we would prefer dying of hunger rather than dying for your personal and political ambitions.

What If Blog-a-Ton 7

2010-02-05T23:49:00.000+05:30

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 7; the seventh edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

“Good bye , have a good time!”

Sameera’s husband bade goodbye before leaving for an official trip. Sameera stood at the door gazing at his car till it disappeared into the heavy traffic. It would be one of those long trips where all Sameera would have to do is to make food for herself, write her blog, and walk her dog in the evening.

Sameera’s blog has been her latest passion, it was a good way to keep her busy and interact with people from all around the world . She booted her Sony Vaio and logged on to her blog. Her latest posts had a good number of comments and she spends some time replying to each and every one of them. After she was done, she was going through the updates of the blogs she followed. The Blog-a-ton blog had an update, the new topic had been selected and it was "What if". No two words would have had the same effect on her as these words. The two words asked her a question for which she would never ever have an answer; she decided to write about just that

*************************

It was more than 20 years ago, when I was a young girl just out of college. I was born in a conservative family, where after education the only thing a girl can do is get married. I tried to break free from some of those customs and started working, but that did not last long and soon I was too be tied in to the wedlock with a boy selected for me by my parents, but this isn’t about the story about how I got married but about that one question which always leads to so many questions which I never have an answer for.

It was a few weeks just before my wedding; I carried the invitation cards to the office. I had decided that I would drop the cards at the desks of my colleagues so that I would have to avoid those repetitive and expected questions about the groom and many more. I was doing just that, dropping a card at the desk of my team members when I reached one special desk. It wasn’t just any desk, it took me a moment of conflict , but then I decided to leave the card at Karan’s table too

“Are you sure you are going to invite me for your wedding?” he asked

It came to me as a surprise because I didn’t realize he was standing behind me while I was resolving my conflicts. I couldn’t say a word and all I could do was give him a shy nod of the head.

“ So finally getting married huh!”

I nodded my head again and went ahead with the task of distributing the cards. When I returned to my desk having completed my ordeal, I found a mail waiting in my inbox. It was Karan

More than 60% of brides have second thoughts and around 10% of them end up calling off the wedding.Which category are you in?...are you really ready?

Karan

And before I could gather my thoughts, I received another mail from him

BTW, I saw Runaway Bride last night. So if you think you are going to deny the fact that you are not nervous then you actually are nervous
Karan

His mail brought a smile on my face, but also made me realize, that I was hurting him. He was in love with me for three years now, yes we knew each other during our college days too and today we worked together. His love had been unwavering and unconditional. He was one of my better friends, no doubt about that, but I could never feel the way he felt for me. At one point of time I felt guilty, guilty of being this block in his life. Had I not been his friend he would have moved on, but today he lives in hope. He hopes that one day I will fall in love with him, and I am guilty of keeping this hope alive.

He tapped his knuckles on my desk, I turned towards him.

“So, you will be attending the process party tomorrow? ”

“I don’t know Karan, today is the last day before I go on leave, I really want to come but there is something which is bothering me”

I stood silent, it takes a lot of courage to tell a person on his face that he is the cause of concern and I did not have that

“I hope it is not me you are worried about?” he asked

I froze for a moment; words seemed to escape me all this while

“I think I will take your silence as yes. And I know what you are worried about, don’t worry about, I will not ask you out in front of all those people or do anything stupid. In fact I never have”

“But on one condition”

“What?”

“I want you to wear the red dress I had gifted you”

“But why?”

“Please do that for me, I will not be able to explain it to you, please” he pleaded

I agreed to wear the dress. The dress was a red color satin with a black ribbon near the waist. It was elegant. I had seen something similar once when I had gone for shopping with Karan, so he took a cue and bought it for me. I never wore it, because Karan had that look in his eyes when he gifted the dress. The look of unwavering love, and I was scared. I always asked myself why I never fell in love with Karan. He was someone I was very compatible with, he was someone who understood me very well, someone who always kept me happy. Maybe he loved me much more than I could handle.

I took a rickshaw to the hotel, and as expected Karan was already there waiting for me. He held my hand and escorted me in. He had made sure that he had a separate table reserved for the two of us.

“You are looking beautiful today. I knew you would look beautiful in this dress but I did not know you would look this beautiful”

I blushed.

“So how are you planning to run away from your wedding?” he asked

“Karan listen, I am not going to run away from my wedding. Why do you still hope for anything now? It will only hurt you!”

“You know I read somewhere that Hope is the only thing which gives and doesn’t take. Hope is the most beautiful thing in this world”

Just then my eyes met his, he was in a different world altogether and they pulled me in to his world. He slowly held my hand rose up; we walked towards the dance floor. For a few seconds our eyes parted, they met again at the dance floor. He held my palm with his hand .He slid his other hand on my back and pulled me towards him. I could feel his breath very close to mine. Our feet moved to the slow music in the background, but the music gradually faded away and all I knew was I was with Karan, the guy who loved me a lot and for the first time I felt something for him right when I was about to get married to someone. Suddenly Karan moved his hands away from my back and held my other hand. His eyes caught my attention, not for the first time this evening; there was madness in them. He kissed the top of my palm and took a deep breath in, absorbing each and everything this moment life had given him. He let my hand go, he wanted to say something and bend towards me. He gathered courage but only two words escaped his mouth

“What if….” He nodded his head wildly and left.

Footnotes:

Image Courtesy: www.iwalkalone.org

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

The hand that rocks the cradle

2010-02-04T23:33:00.000+05:30

There are a few things which are inevitable, how much ever we pray that it doesn't happen, its inevitable. My life is approaching one such stage. My mom is going to leave India and go back to UAE, to stay with dad. I know at this point of time Dad needs mom much more than I do, they have lived separately for three years now. I feel guilty for the fact that mom and dad lived separately for these three years. They still talk to each other every night just like any new college couple or a newly wed ( don't even ask about the phone bill), they are the best example of love I have ever seen, may god keep them together like this forever.

The thing is that, my mom is leaving and that time will come soon when she will be in the UAE. Yes, I have always been a momma's boy and to be honest I don't find anything wrong in that, but I can't imagine my life without her. I did live for a couple of years without her and I missed her quite a lot, but now that I know what the difference is when she is there and when she isn't I am going to miss her all the more.

Like I said some things are inevitable and this is one of them, all I can wish is that whatever happens, let it be for good. I am sure a few of you would be wondering why am I writing this on my blog, well the reason is that I am never able to say this to mom. She has always been there for me, and like always I just cant say it to her. She is like that lotus flower which might float in a marsh itself but preserves the dew drop on it, I feel like I have been the dew drop all my life and I only wish I have her along all the time.....

Footnotes:

Thanks a lot guys for all your lovely comments for my previous post. I am so sorry for replying late to your comments but I have finally done replied. Do drop in a peak ( click here to read my replies)

The Bench

2010-01-31T01:33:00.000+05:30

The training period ended and there was no sign of a project. I had heard stories about the bench, there were a few legendary people who resurrected their careers here. A few others decided to go the unconventional way and well we remember only those who succeeded, and the losers forgotten very conveniently. I retired for the day with the thoughts of what I would do on the bench. Like all normal men, negative thoughts haunted me at first.I saw an image of skeletal remains of a man on bench, it was disturbing, but it was the manifestation of all the long bench stories I have been told.

A trait in myself, which I have come to admire, is the resilience. I keep telling myself, that I have to walk just a little more longer. And I did just that, I asked myself to look at the positive. There were quite a few of them. The training period was exhaustive and a little break from work wouldn't be bad ( I know being lethargic doesn't sound good, but give me work and I wouldn't be lethargic anymore!). This free time I would have would help me loose all the extra flab I have been carrying with myself for the past few months( Time to say goodbye tummy!). Moreover I would also give me time to write, a little more time for my blog, a little more time to dig deep into my mind and give my thoughts words. Give words to some gyaan which I always have handy, and am ever ready to share. So now the image of the bench had transformed from a Dakhma( a place where Zoroastrians leave their dead) to a beautiful image of a place from were I can stare at the beautiful sky of imagination, which would playfully tell me stories and teach me a lesson called life. Done then, I would approach the bench with dignity and positive energy much like the Bizarro comic at the right.

The next day arrived and I walked to the office premises, and asked for the location of 'The Bench'. A wry smile and a few exchanged words later, I realized that there is no such area as bench. Each one of us was assigned a separate location to sit, and some kind of a task to do.Well positive thoughts work,and now I would have some work to do . In a few minutes, positive energy was replaced by panic. I wasn't assigned a PC, and for some reason it is not being possible to do so,like always worse thoughts arrived, and well they left immediately when I was told that I was assigned a project and have to reach the Project manager ASAP.

Footnotes:

This is not how things happened, so the situations have been modified for entertainment purposes. This story is of a close one and is written with the point of view of that person.

Image courtesy: Bizarro comics

Jab We Met

2010-01-25T10:41:00.000+05:30

After completing my engineering, I went to my hometown, Chiplun. Its a 6 hour journey from Pune, and a flat backside is not the only side effect. I was well received by my cousin brother at around 4 in the morning, I hit the sack the moment I reached home. I have a lot of dreams, and I tend to remember them too But not even in my weirdest of dreams I would have imagined what was in store.

A couple of oldies came to meet me at around 10, but I was still in love with the bed and well that sparked them to start their favorite conversation of what they would have done had they been younger. I will not complain because that kept them busy for a while, But then I only wish I had never woken up. I will not mention their names ( well my relatives might just read my blog!!)...so for our convenience lets call them Chatur Chacha!!

Chatur chacha: Beta what engineering did you do?

Me: Mechanical Engineering

CC: Mechnical( I dint forget the 'a'), ohhh, so you will be repairing machines?....Areee you know that Ali ka Beta, even he is a mechanic. He went to Dubai, and now he has his own garage there.

Me: I am not a mechanic chacha, I am an engineer!

CC: Oh, you repair engines!!!

Me: No, I dont repair anything. I make things (I lead 1-0)

My Bhabi came to my room, with a cup of coffee for the two of us. I help my cup from the hot end, and in a sudden jerk the cup fell off my hand. Chatur Chacha chuckled

CC: You know, today people are padha likha, but they have no brains. I remember when I used to work at the plant, this officers didnot know anything, they used to come to me to ask Chacha what do I do now?...I dont know what this machine does. They take more salary but are absolutely useless

The agony of steamy hot cup of coffee wasn't enough that Chacha had to add to it.

CC: So beta, I hear you have a job.

Me: ( I didnt know what was hurting me, the burning coffee or ...) Yes Chacha, I got a job at Accenture.

CC: Assenchaarr......what is that?

Me: (grr......) Its a software company!!( I wish I hadn't said that!)

CC: Saaftware...I thought you did mechnical engineering

Me: I got a job there, so I took it

CC: But what do you do there?, you dont know saaftware work

Me: No, but they will teach us the work first, so no problem

CC: Then why did you do mechnical engineering?

Me: I did mechanical engineering to repair Softwares!!!

Footnotes:

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3 years of Bliss and companionship

2010-01-20T11:10:00.000+05:30

3 years ago on a cold January morning, I was wide awake much earlier than I have ever been. I was nervous, excited and anxious all at the same time. Why? you will soon know...

I am the elder one among my siblings, actually old by just the number, coz it is my two younger brothers who are my parents. Rahil and Saifan, they have always been my parents and caretakers. From making sure that I eat my meals on time when my mom is not there, to making sure that my clothes are ironed and ready before I get ready for work. They tell their friends about my blog, but never care to read it( u dumb asses!, I hate you people for that). Saifan shares the same passion I do for Manchester United, and the three of us love food. It is one way of bonding for the three of us.

So, since I am the older one( because of the numbers), the new things always come to me first and this is about one such special thing.

3 years ago on a cold January morning, I was wide awake much earlier than I have ever been. I was nervous, excited and anxious all at the same time.why?
I was gifted the pulsar 150 I drive today. The bike has been a part of all the adventures I undertook, even that one night when I could have been stabbed( that night lead to the name of my blog...read the very first post and you will get the hint!!)...I drove around with a lot of good looking girls, much to the jealousy of the guys and the list goes on. This was my first vehicle, and well first is always special.I will go on to get a lot of other vehicles( hopefully), but this pulsar of mine will always remain the pampered one

3 years ago on a cold January morning, I was wide awake much earlier than I have ever been. I was nervous, excited and anxious all at the same time.You now know...

Footnotes:

Image courtesy: http://burnyourfuel.com
I am sorry guys for not posting my story, I think it will take a little more time, but it will definitely be up in a few days time.

Thanx and Cheers

Hope is where there is no hope

2010-01-16T00:57:00.000+05:30

I am currently working on a short story which will be complete soon, and I did not want to leave my blog like that, so I thought I would post something which was already written......I am sorry but will be back soon.

"An almost non fancied teams beats a champion in a thrilling game of cricket"

"No one thought this guy would make it big in movies"

There has always been a story of an underdog in whatever we do. The Underdogs are every where, but we dont seem to have enough of them do we?....

Here in this post I try and bisect the drive and reason behind an underdog story.

The most important and a major factor of an underdog is fearlessness/ lack of expectations. Yes, like they always say they have nothing to loose. Expectations always seem to be a burden for a whole lot of us, that is why being a champion is not easy

A champion uses the expectations of people to drive himself forward

But what about the lesser mortals, its not easy and when this load of expectations is taken off the lesser mortals, an underdog is made!!

But is that the only reason? is taking the load off a person the only reason why an underdog story is created. Well there is another category of Underdog is that of "the fallen one".

The case of the Fallen one is curious ("The curious case of the fallen one.. :-))...because we have often seen big giants fall and fall and fall...but then once they hit rock bottom things start looking up again..it is as if starting up new was the only solution for them. But what happens when they hit rock bottom?... Another quote

I lost hope, I lay on the ground to die....

With my eyes open I looked up and realized

My limit is the sky!!

Yes , when u have fallen you then realized that you never had limits to what , where and when one achieves something. If one has to fall, then it has to be for the good, and only one person can determine how much you benefit from the fall and thats yourself. Most "fallen ones" have used failure as spring board for success and one must know on a springboard the harder you fall the higher you go!!!....

Thats what life is about...irony...lots of irony...one rises to fall and falls to rise.....one lives to die and dies to live........

One searches for hope and finds hope where there is no hope

Before I sign off, I must thank for the immense response I got for my post for Blog-a-ton 6 Who writes our Destiny . I hope to keep writing to entertain you all......

Who writes our Destiny?-(Blog-a-ton 6)

2010-01-09T02:12:00.000+05:30

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 6; the fifth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

There are two reasons why I like this picture.One of the reasons why I love this picture is because this is exactly how we begin when we decide to do start something. Our heads resting are resting on our wrists; a pen which is moving only in random directions and eyes pondering around, looking for inspiration. I was sitting exactly like this when my dotting mom came into my room with a huge (really huge) plate of Gajar ka Halwa.

"Beta, you still haven't eaten the Halwa I made"

"Yes ma, I will eat it but now I am writing, please let me concentrate!"

"Eat the Halwa, you will think better" she joked.

I kept the plate besides the laptop, eating a spoon between long intervals of roof gazing. My imagination seemed to have been lost in the Ghee laden Gajar ka Halwa. Another reason why I can’t think when there is food around me is because my mom gets very finicky about me finishing the food. To be honest I would love to finish every plate she gave me, but for that I would need another stomach. So I decided to take the escape route.
The escape route is a small dustbin which is strategically placed very close to my study table. Let me explain, my mom comes from a generation which thought that more food means a smarter kid; (I will definitely agree with the smart kid thing, but they seem to forget, rather conveniently the obese dimension of the kid too) so when I sit to study, there is always something special on the plate.

So well I took the escape route, and the rest of the Gajar ka Halwa went in to the dustbin. What I didn’t know was that, my mom was right at the door watching me take the escape route.
“The Halwa wasn’t good?”
“Mom it was brilliant, the only thing was that it was too much”
“Then I believe you have a mouth to speak out”
“Mom, you get upset when I say that”
“And you think this wouldn’t upset me?”
“Mom!” I shouted, got up from the table with a jerk; a couple of books and stationary fell off the table. I stormed out of the house. I don’t know why I did it, but I was very upset at the constant nagging and fuss made about food at my house.

I ran down the flight of stairs and sat on a bench near the gate of the society. This was one place I came to, to cool down my temper. The open air, the shade of the trees and a rear dry leaf falling from them, this place was always a great leveller for me.
“What happened sahib?” Chotu asked
Chotu was a fruit seller; he always came near our society gate at the end of his day. He was also fond of the shade below the trees, and it also made a great place for him to take account of how much he had earned through the day.
“You don’t seem to be in a good mood?” he asked.
“I am ok, Chotu. How was your day?”
“I made 150 rupees today”
“Hmm not bad huh Chotu”
“Really? How much does the Biryani cost at Hyderabad House?”
“I don’t remember Chotu, may be a hundred thirty or something, why?”
“I have a dream. One day I will eat the Biryani at the Hyderabad house, I heard it is very good. But I don’t think the day is today, my drunken father will take this 150 from me”

He left with a twinkle in his eyes hoping to have a meal he could only dream about, while I was left wondering, how different our lives are. Here was a boy who longed for luxuries of life, while I made a fuss & threw tantrums, when life itself was offering me everything at its best. While arguing with my mother in the heat of the moment I forgot to be thankful to The Almighty for blessing me with everything one could wish for.

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 6; the sixth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

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Something Different!!!!!

2010-01-04T13:06:00.000+05:30

Its the fourth day of the New Year and all that feeling of something new is almost over( atleast for me!!). Its that time that we like race horses put our head downs and start running a year long race. We will not remember that every second, every minute of this life is new and irreplaceable.

What point am I trying to make?, well what I am trying to say is that in this year long race we will get opportunities to forget the race and run in the direction where we want to go, and not towards a so called finish line. If you ever come across one such opportunity, take it and I promise you will never regret it

Btw, How is the new look of my blog? I was trying to change the look for a long time now. As of what I have noticed this template loads much faster and well the content is highlighted too...do drop in your opinion about it.

Footnotes:

Image courtesy:http://actualdownload.com

Bowled Over by Priya

2010-01-02T03:04:00.000+05:30

You dirty dirty minds....I know some of you would be picturing a hot gal( and expecting me to tell you about her), but the Priya I am talking about is a small breakfast place close to where I stay.

My brothers have been frequenting this place for quite a while, and today they took me along for breakfast.

I was amazed at the environment. A guy walked up to us and wished us luck for the New Year, and then cleaned up the table and chair. He came up for the order and even suggested us our breakfast. I came to learn that his name was Suresh. He was popular among the customers, especially his "attempts" at English.

The breakfast was ready along with Suresh's comments on todays news. The environment was full of energy thanks to Suresh.

Well we met Harish at the counter, who seemed to shy and reserved. And Behind him was a small message displayed

The message says that " This institution does not hire any children". It was something which my brother Rahil pointed out to me. It is something which both Harish and Suresh believe in. I found it very noble and refreshing. It is a very common sight at small places to hire children to clean tables, serve breakfast and do the tiny bits at these places. But it is nice to see people like Harish and Suresh, who have their morals at the right place.

In the pic above:(L to R)Harish and Suresh

When we start anything new, we feel good about it. For me it was the same, the first morning of the new year and I get to meet these special guys. I am really proud of the fact that a common man in our country is thinking of making a difference to the society, a very positive facet indeed.

If this is the picture, then I am sure that our dream of becoming a super power with its heart at the right place is not far away.

_____________________________________________________________________

Footnotes:

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The 77second Story

2009-12-31T10:37:00.000+05:30

Its been more than a week and I hadn't written anything on my blog. I was wondering where my next blog post would come from( not having the net connection at home doesn't help), well the answer was a 77 second signal near Lakshminarayan Theatre. I saw a small kid reading a piece of paper, it reminded me of one of the incidents when I was in the sixth grade.
Our school teachers always encouraged us to participate in elocution competitions. I got selected through a preliminary round, ( how the hell did I get selected?) despite having no experience of public speaking. I got a speech written by a senior friend of mine on a piece of small paper. I carried it every where I went, and made sure I remember every word of it.
The elocution competitions were always well attended at our school.The auditorium is set up for the competition. Almost the entire school is watching. The biggest challenge was to always speak what you had prepared,if you forget your speech or get stuck, the audience are sure to give you a tough time speaking.
The morning of the competition I walked to the auditorium, the audience had already assembled (even though I knew that the numbers are high, the size of the audience gave me goose bumps). A senior of mine walked up to me "How is your preparation?"
"I don't know about the preparation, but the crowd is huge"
"Well, that means that the applause will be really loud!"
Those words changed something in me, because I wasn't nervous anymore, to be honest my speech sounded like mugged up crap, but the applause was good. That particular incident, changed the extremely shy Shahid to the Shahid you people know today.

With the choice of our words we can change the lives of people, so it is very necessary that we use our words judiciously and carefully.

I don't think that particular interaction wouldn't have been longer than 77 seconds itself. This is one lesson which I learned years later today during those 77 seconds.....

Footnotes:

Image courtesy: commons.wikimedia.org

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Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

2009-12-20T19:55:00.000+05:30

He woke up to another dreadful day. There was nothing wrong actually; the sun had risen over the horizon with its trademark golden glow, the sky was a beautiful blue, the birds of the spring were singing and there was an occasional cool breeze blowing too. They say the weather plays a major role in setting the mood for the day. Sameer, a nine year old, was an example of cognitive dissonance. The spring weather always clashed with his final exams, despite the beautiful weather he felt dreadful.

His mother woke him up with the usual thud on his back. Sameer walked to the wash basin rubbing his back, the pain wasn't painful anymore, but it was disturbing. Sameer was very short for a 9 year old; he had to be picked up to reach his tooth brush. He used to take his own time to brush his teeth, but now his mother had taken control.

“Press your teeth together” she commanded. She brushed his teeth, moving the brush over every corner of his mouth. Sameer loved the flavour of his toothpaste, he always wanted to swallow it but he was scared that his mother might slap him for that and so never tried it. His early morning was full of such rigors. Sameer always imagined himself dying while taking a bath or while eating breakfast which he was supposed to but didn't like or maybe because of going to the school. He did not know what dying was; he had seen it on TV. Those who die do not have to go to school and so he came to the conclusion that he will die. But today was a dreadful day, so he will not die today.

“Sameer, go and get your book and start studying”

He walked to his room; he stole a glance at the mirror. He was short and darkand had bunny teeth (he remembers his dad talking about something called braces), his hair was neatly turned towards the right, and to top it off he had a huge pair of glasses mounted on his nose. He was very different to the taller and fair Rachit, his neighbour and class mate.

“Sameer... your book?”

He rushed to his bag and looked for his English class work book. Beads of sweat started flowing from his head when he couldn’t find it. He went through the books again and again and he started sweating profusely. This would only make his bad day worse. Every day the sound of the horn of the school bus was frowned upon by Sameer but today, the school horn meant an escape. He tied his shoe laces and ran towards the door with his bag. The bag was heavy, but his fear was heavier. His feet moved faster than they ever had.

His bus was waiting outside his society gates. He jumped into his bus, and tripped over the last step of the stairs. His knee was bruised. The bus warden, caught hold of him.

“How many times should I be telling you kids not to run in the bus?” she said sternly.

She grabbed Sameer by his shoulder and pulled him up. She saw his knee; it was bruised badly and was bleeding too. She took out the first aid box from the top, and poured an antiseptic over the bruise. She rubbed off the blood and tied a bandage roll on his knee. She pats him on the back

“Sameer, you don’t start behaving like other boys” she said in a soft tone. Sameer was in pain, but he did not want to show it. There was day when he cried in the class and the entire class was calling him a girl because he was crying. He dragged his leg slowly towards the seat he was supposed to sit on. He always wanted to sit near the window, but the big boys had the seats reserved for themselves. Sameer was for once tempted to sit on one of those seats but he was terrified of the big boys and continued walking towards the last row in the bus. He saw Rachit sitting there. He was holding Sameer’s book.

“You have my book?” he asked

“Yes I have your book; my class work was not complete so I took yours”

“But...but I wanted it, to study” he stammered.

“Ok, I have one answer to study, I will study that and then I will give it to you”

“Please give it to me now, I have to study, otherwise my mother will beat me”

Rachit giggled “then do one thing, you have heard that song of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?”

Teenage Mutant Ninja was a cartoon series, where four mutant turtles were the lead characters. Sameer loved watching them, he liked Raphael because he could fight better than others

“Yes, I know the song”

“You know; when I hear that song, and then I can learn faster, so sing it while I study”

“How can you study when the song is on, my father says that we cannot study with the TV on”

“That's for you dumbo, I can study like that, so start singing”

Sameer started singing loudly “teenage mutant ninja turtles....teenage mutant ninja turtles”

“You need to sing faster, otherwise we will reach school”

Sameer became louder and faster. The bus warden heard that and whacked him on the side of his head. The kids in the bus broke into laughter; Sameer tried laughing sheepishly to hide his embarrassment. Rachit gave Sameer his book, while still laughing. Sameer took the book from him and walked hurriedly towards his seat. His knee hurt, but he wanted to hide so he rushed towards his seat. He covered his face with the book, hiding his tears from everyone. He kept wiping his tears but they never stopped.

The bus reached the school on time. Sameer got down the bus the last and dragged himself to his class. The teacher started assembling them for the morning assembly when she noticed the bandage on Sameer’s knee.

“Are you ok?” she asked

Sameer was only breathing heavily, he wanted to say that it hurt; he had gone through a lot of trauma since morning. No words left Sameer’s mouth. The teacher asked Sameer to stay in the class which he did. His tears kept rolling, his knee was hurting and he hadn’t studied either. The test was going to start in a few minutes after the assembly. His mother was very peculiar about Sameer scoring well. Last night his parents had gone to Sameer’s grandparent’s house. They left Sameer with a cousin of his, his cousin was supposed to teach him, but she slept and Sameer spent most of his time watching cartoons.

The assembly was over and the entire class started walking back to the class. The class teacher walked in with the test questions. The class took a couple of minutes to settle down, after which the teacher started distributing the test questions. There was pin drop silence in the class and Sameer had nothing to write in the answer sheet. He tried reading the questions again and again, trying to remember what the answers where but he couldn’t. Sameer looked around him and everyone, even Rachit, was busy writing. Sameer pressed his teeth together, focussed on a question and started saying in a slow tone “Teenage mutant ninja turtles.... Teenage mutant ninja turtles....” His tone and volume kept increasing, he closed his eyes, and became even more louder “Teenage mutant ninja turtles....”, Sameer clenched his teeth and the volume increased even more Teenage mutant ninja turtles....”. Sameer was the centre of attention of the class now. His voice started choking but he kept saying “Teenage mutant ninja turtles....”. When he realized the entire class was watching he pressed his face on the table, and kept shouting “Teenage mutant ninja turtles....”, slowly his voice faded and so did the light for Sameer.

The day was dreadful, he woke up today for his daily rigors, he broke his knee, was beaten by his bus warden and now the test. He did not die, that’s why the day was dreadful.

Footnotes:

Image courtesy : http://ouradopt.com/

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8 years and counting

2009-12-13T18:56:00.000+05:30

8 years ago, at around 11 20 am, the stillness in air around the parliament was house was disturbed by a couple of massive blasts. A few gunned men rammed in to the vehicle of the then vice president Krishan Kant and opened fire. They had come with the intention of blowing up the parliament. That obviously did not happen, but it hurt the pride of the worlds largest democracy. Fingers were pointed on Pakistan and various other organisations, the relations between the two countries soured and it blew hot and cold after that,as it has been happening for years now.

The martyrs were honored by medals, after all they gave their lives for people who were the leaders of this country. Their families could live their lives proudly, their close one had done something for the country. But strange things happen. Things were forgotten, so much, that a lot of people don't know that the relatives returned the medals as an act of protest. They were protesting for the fact that the hanging of the guilty Afzal Guru, was delayed for the fact that he had lodged a mercy petition at the presidents office.

This issue has been cold in the eyes of the media, and the nation. Today, our politicians are busy creating a state for themselves rather than to spare a moment to acknowledge the efforts of the brave soldiers. If I have my stats in place, only 11 ministers paid their homage to the brave soldiers. Yes, they are wrong, but does anyone raise a voice against it?. We are more busy watching the highlights of the T20 game we just missed last night.

Our leaders can only be as efficient as we want them to be. Lets do something about it, I don't know what but we need to take it in our own hands

Image courtesy: http://newsx.com

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Why my blog is not about the URL.....

2009-12-11T05:51:00.000+05:30

I have always been asked about the url of my blog, which is pain of my life. Well, the story about the url is really embarrassing and stupid. All I can explain is this, when I wanted to start a blog, I wanted to write about all the aspects of the life which are painful. I guess that explains one part of the blog, but why PAIN OF MY LIFE?.....( my jiju had even suggested me to change it to PAIN OF MY A** once)...well for that part of the story, you will have to wait....but hey I am going to tell you something really interesting. It is one of the posts which just proves that there is more good than bad around me ( telling me that my url needs to be changed!!!).

I used to work at a call center called EXL. I worked there for over a year, every day at work I interacted with a lot of customers and colleagues. The thing is, I always saw a very different picture all the time. A lot of them were sad, but there was a lot of courage in those stories I heard. I might have forgotten the stories but not their moral.

But there is one person I met, I will never forget him, for his zeal for life. He doesn't work at EXL, he is an owner of a cafe called VOHUMAN CAFE. It is on the same lane as Jehangir Hospital in Pune. This cafe is all about the cheese omelette's, bun maska,cutting chai and a lot of food, but another reason why people go there is the old parsi guy at the counter. For all the punekars who haven't been there, have your breakfast or food and walk up to the counter and ask him to share a joke. His face will light up and when you leave the cafe, you will leave with a mischievous smile (that explains the kind of jokes he cracks, doesn't it?). During my EXL days I was a regular visitor there. The breakfast was always filled with laughs,and a lot of good food.

A lot of marketing gurus make fundas for their businesses, I guess this one should be right at the top i.e make your customers smile!!!!!!!.....

Well this brings me to the last leg of this post....I was told recently by a friend that if we have 10-12 hearty laughs a day we will lead a healthier life. So lets all make a report card for ourselves, find yourself reasons to laugh around 10-12 times a day.....

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Stay Strong........

2009-12-03T21:31:00.000+05:30

I remember when I was small, my dad and mom used to tell me stories about so many heroes who survived against all odds. I never liked those heroes. They couldn't fly, they couldn't beat up 100 people, they never saved the world!!!. My parents heroes were simple poor people who have made a name for themselves, I never understood why it was a big deal?.............

Today things are different, my heroes are different, if I talk about the perseverance of Chris Gardner, in the same breath I talk about the grit if Oprah. If there is a life which I would want any one to emulate then I talk about Randy Pausch. None of them can fly, they cannot beat up 100 people either, but in a unique way, each of them save the world.

But I am not talking about heroes, but what lesson each of them teach. Mr Chris Gardner, despite being one of the richest persons in the world, he still does whatever he can for the underprivileged, the same can be told about Oprah. While Mr Randy Pausch, has told the world that you can die because of a disease( as severe as Pancreatic Cancer), or you can live everyday to fight it.

The message they gave was to stay strong

Grit and Determination, alone can help you climb the pinnacle of success.

I personally, believe in this and try my best to follow it. I believe that there is an invisible form of energy which exists and acts as a barrier between you and success. This barrier can only be broken by Grit and Determination. I know I am going a little off topic here but I am sure somewhere down the line, these qualities I mentioned, played an important role in my college magazine Sourabh winning the first prize in the Pune University. It had competition from more than 100 colleges all over Pune, so I think it is a good achievement.

I know, for sure, that a strong person always succeeds in life. I am trying to be one, and I hope all of you people will also give it a chance. It is a slow burner, but a sure shot one!!!.

PS: I am sorry I went a little off circuit for a few days because I have joined Accenture and I am just finding my feet there.

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A question to be asked?

2009-11-26T14:08:00.000+05:30

If life is living for the moment then I am guilty of living it. This road might be the best way to live life but every thought, every belief in life is a fallacy. These thoughts, ideas and philosophies are mere ways of preventing us from derailing. We all work for a particular end; we live our life thinking that when we go off the stage, there will be a huge applause. We think that our audience would appreciate the fact that we have achieved so much and spend our entire life for it, but again I tend to believe that even this is a fallacy, a myth.

I had read a short story by E.M Forester called "The other side of the Hedge". It talks about a road where the entire humanity walks on keeping a count of the number of steps on a pedometer. The count on the pedometer is what we live by, completely ignoring the green hedge adjoining the road. When the author crosses the hedge, he realizes that nothing of his real world things worked on this side of the hedge, especially the pedometer. I will not tell you the entire story, but I will definitely give you the download link for the book The Celestial Omnibus. It is a collection of short stories by E.M Forester. "The other side of the Hedge” is the second story in this book, do read and it and tell me if you like it.

Getting back to the topic of this post, our lives have been filled up with myths and philosophies passed on to us by our forefathers. We tend to find solace in these philosophies and ideas, but we forget to ask ourselves questions. Even if we ask ourselves questions we don’t try and find the answers. Why have we never asked ourselves why do we believe in these philosophies of life, why do we believe in the myth of our life being a stage with the world watching?. These questions kept popping in my mind and mind you, these are important questions, but the most important question of all is

Do we really want to know?

Aren’t we scared that the truth might create an imbalance in our lives, what if the truth is not something we believe in?, will we be able to cope with the answers....

A call from Heaven....

2009-11-21T14:43:00.000+05:30

NO, I am not writing anything similar to the call from god in Chetan Bhagats One Night at the Call Center. The call I am talking about is the one so many of us take everyday. It is life changing, or rather life threatening. I am talking about all of us talking on the phone while driving. It is really really dangerous( the number of really's doesn't signify how dangerous it is).

Today, I accompanied my brother for his driving license test. Well it really isn't a test but a huge sham, which may be shows that Indian government has implement stringent rules, but the fact remains is that we can get a driving license by merely driving in the first gear on a straight road. The inspector saw around 68 people( thats my brothers number..there were more people waiting) driving and granted all of them a license. There were people who were hardly comfortable driving their scooters, a lady had her feet on the ground all the time while driving!!, How the hell would he clear her. Just by merely handling a lot of applications and clearing all of them soon doesn't mean that work is efficient. It just tells that you don't care.

Now getting back to the call, well after the test my brother was asked to watch a video along with many others, the video was all about the safety rules and regulations.They emphasized the fact that we should not talk on the phone while driving, not even with our hands free on, because it divides your attention, and like the TATA DOCOMO advert. says that life can change in seconds, we must know that a second of diverted attention is life threatening.

Now this brings me to the question, why do we need to take a call when we are driving?

Lets look at the various possibilities

Your boss is calling!!

Park your vehicle aside and then explain him that you are driving and will get back to him as soon as you get a nice place to park your vehicle. That also helps if you have screwed up on some assignment he gave

Your mom and dad calling

I am sure you can say the same that you are driving, doesn't need much effort there

Your Gf/Bf is calling

If you haven't messed up on something, DON'T TAKE THE CALL, and if you haven't still DON'T TAKE THE CALL. and in case this leads to a break up, guys give me your G.F's( or ex I must say) number, I promise I will take care of her

Your wife or husband is calling

You don't take their calls anyways,and even if you do, I don't think you even care to listen, safest of all calls , no worries here ( :-p)

We need to remember that there is always an alternative and we have to take the safer one, we can miss a call but a few seconds wouldn't change much if you wait to pick it up, but if you do pick it up while driving it could be devastating for everyone.

I will leave you all with a question and a picture I clicked at the RTO

Whose call are you taking?

Ray Ban Baba-3

2009-11-19T18:22:00.000+05:30

The third installment of Ray Ban Baba is here, I am sure now you will know who this story is about

He asked Rashi to push his wheelchair towards me.

“You are new here” he asked.

“I hope Rashi did not trouble you a lot, she gets angry quickly”. He waved his hand to Rashi, signaling her to push him away.

to be continued

To read RayBan Baba 1 click here
and to read Ray Ban Baba 2 click here

GUESS WHO'S BACK?

2009-11-17T12:05:00.000+05:30

Friends, I am sure you remember a few weeks back, I had carried out a sting operation on Chandni ( to see the sting click here). Well, the sting worked and she had something important to say, so I present to you Chandni Bahl( once again...and btw I am not a gr8 fan of censorship, but I like commenting, so the comments in the red are mine)

I wanted to respond to the sting operation by my friends on this blog..With the intention of giving me a spark to write ..i would not be exaggerating if i say that it lit a fire..!! Thank you shahid this was very thoughtful of you and It was a wonderful surprise!(I did not add that, it really was her) And you too sumedha.. after all you broke the surprise..!(What was more surprising is that she kept it a surprise) A special thanks to Rakesh for putting up "the invitation". That was a great way of showing how much he appreciates the poem..I went through the comments and i had a word for all those who commented...I must thank Devika, runnerfrog,Anya,Deependra,Shilpa, Jeevan, man in painting and Seema. Old monk and Vishwanath, both had extra sweet words for my poem. I am really happy that all of you took some time out to put in a word for me.Though At this point I would not like to say anything about me starting to write all over again as i do not wish to make any more fake promises to myself or anyone else.. but all i can say is very soon you will see my blog..!

Thanks again

Chandni....

THE REFLECTION- 55 fiction

2009-11-13T19:47:00.000+05:30

55 fiction refers to a story or an incident narrated in 55 words

He was used to working late in the night; people said he talked to himself.

His life was all about work, love never found any space.

One day he met a girl, made friends and took her home.

He saw himself in the mirror, for one moment it was him another moment her.

Due to the current work scenario, there are a lot of instances of mental breakdown. One kind of mental breakdown is Multiple personality Disorder.We must learn to live a life outside our cubicles, this was an attempt to spread that message.
I was inspired by the movie Fight Club ( *ing Brad Pitt), this is my take on it.

Ray Ban Baba-2

2009-11-12T13:01:00.000+05:30

“Excuse me, do you realize this boy has been fooling you?”

“ohh..umm”I stammered, “he charges me for delivering the medicines, if that’s what you are talking about”

“He is much smarter than that, He has billed you more than the MRP price for your medicines, on all your medicines”

“How much extra has he charged me?” I asked, not knowing what I should be doing about it

“At least 100 rupees. If you have a lot of money to give away, then, do what you want”

“It’s ok, If you don’t care then you don’t have to act” She said turning her back towards me

“I wasn’t acting,” I said trying to get up, only to be reminded that I was tied up by a saline.

“let me decide that” she said and sat near her grandpa, trying to keep herself busy with a book.

I called the boy, he walked towards me sheepishly.

“Who asked you to laugh?”

“Kya sir, you don’t know how to get angry also”

“Accha, and what about overcharging me?, had you not gone to her, I wouldn’t have known”

“What do I do sir!, the cashier at the pharmacy does these things, I don’t know about it at all”

“Ok, do me a favor, call the pharmacist here, and let me talk to him”

The boy went and called the pharmacist. The pharmacist apologized and also sent my one hundred and thirty five rupees back.

“Here you go” I handed them over to the boy

“Why me sir?”

“Had you not done the mistake of showing that lady” I pointed towards the girl “ I wouldn’t have got them back, so keep it , but make good use of it”

“Ha,sir, I will give them to my mother now only, thank you sir”

The fragrance of hot Dal and rice distracted me. The pharmacy boy was holding a plate of rice and dal.

“Is this for me?” I asked

“Yes,” he said with a mischievous smile

“And who gave it”

He winked , put the plate on the small table near my bed and left. He returned swiftly and said

“She said to tell you that her name is Rashi” and left again.

To read the first part click here

Ray Ban Baba-1

2009-11-09T16:46:00.000+05:30

This is one of the short stories I am still writing. Though it is not complete I thought it would be good if I upload it as and when I write it, one of you might actually drop in with some idea !!

“Mr. Sameer, is there somebody with you who could get your medicines?” a nurse asked interrupting my thoughts

“No, I am on my own. If you could send somebody to get my medicines .I will pay for it”

“O.K”

The nurse walked away. A few minutes later, a young kid walked in with a plastic bag in hand

Distance- A poem By Chandni Bahl

2009-11-06T17:55:00.000+05:30

I have caught someone on a sting camera, not exactly but am posting a poem written by a good friend of mine, Chandni. Chandni is a writer and it seems she hasn't written anything in a long long time! So I decided why not give her the spark,and lets see where she goes from here.She doesnt know about this so this will be a surprise and thats why I said I have caught her in a sting operation.
Here is a poem by her, so friends tell her what you think about it

Distance Between 2 people

To realize the importance of someone
And know how much you love them

Not being able to see them everyday and
Missing the smallest things about them

Thinking about them every hour
Hoping that the time would fly

Crossing out 'blue' days on the calendar
Writing LONG letters as the days pass by

watching the moon for hours hoping they are doin the same
Every moment Wishing that- This DISTANCE never existed..

Conversations at a Poker Table

2009-11-04T20:04:00.000+05:30

Being an ardent fan of Online poker, I spend a lot of time playing poker. The advantage of online poker is that you meet a lot of people, from different cultures, living different lives altogether. The fact that there is tension in the society can be sensed in some of these conversations. It shows that being a Muslim is not easy and neither being a Christian or Jew in Pakistan any easy thing. I came along one such conversation, which bordered on me being a Muslim, Indian and so on and ended on poker skills
I had fun, hope u will have fun reading it. The guy I talked to is Joshua Williams

Joshua Williams: ur gonna loose shahid

Shahid Mukadam: its ok

Joshua Williams: dont u watch the news?

Shahid Mukadam: winning is not everything

Shahid Mukadam: wats in the news

Joshua Williams: terrorist always loose

Shahid Mukadam: lol

Shahid Mukadam: i come from the land of gandhi

Joshua Williams: bs

Shahid Mukadam: someone who has taught me

Shahid Mukadam: to respect evryone i meet

Joshua Williams: lmao

Joshua Williams: and blow them the f u c k up?

Shahid Mukadam: i pity someone who doesnt even know gandhi

Joshua Williams: lmao

Joshua Williams: i know who he is

Joshua Williams: in america they educate us

Shahid Mukadam: we indians are much more educated than you

Shahid Mukadam: even take ur jobs

Joshua Williams: lmfao

Joshua Williams: ur indian ?

Joshua Williams: no my friend

Shahid Mukadam: ask barrack obama about it

Shahid Mukadam: lol

Shahid Mukadam: poor americans

Shahid Mukadam: well george w bush fooled all of u into believing tht u r under attack

Shahid Mukadam: cant sympathise with u more

Joshua Williams: lolz ok my friend indians are scared of everything

Shahid Mukadam: tell me who are americans

Shahid Mukadam: u come from different places

Shahid Mukadam: u aint even a real american

Shahid Mukadam: no culture of ur own

Shahid Mukadam: all borrowed

Joshua Williams: lmfao

Joshua Williams: ur ignorance amazes me

Shahid Mukadam: ha

Shahid Mukadam: urs also

Shahid Mukadam: coz when i keep sayin i am from the land of gandhi

Shahid Mukadam: u ask if i am indian

Shahid Mukadam: lol

Shahid Mukadam: and u say they educate u

Shahid Mukadam: a bigger lol

Joshua Williams: lolz

Joshua Williams: everyone is from a different place

Joshua Williams: no one originated in one place except for ?

Shahid Mukadam: indians

Joshua Williams: do you know?

Shahid Mukadam: meesoppotamians

Shahid Mukadam: and greek

Joshua Williams: jews

Shahid Mukadam: our harrappa civilization and the mesopotamian civilization are the oldest

Shahid Mukadam: jews

Shahid Mukadam: /

Shahid Mukadam: i beg to differ bro

Shahid Mukadam: the real jews who are in the arab peninsula

Shahid Mukadam: most of them have turned to christianity or islam

Shahid Mukadam: u jews

Shahid Mukadam: are converted ones

Shahid Mukadam: ask ur history teacher

Shahid Mukadam: lol

Joshua Williams: lolz u might be right about that im not a jew though

Shahid Mukadam: see and regarding the thing u initially referred me to as a terrorist

Shahid Mukadam: i would really like to educate u on onething

Joshua Williams: u can try

Shahid Mukadam: the current terrorist attacks happening by so called muslims

Shahid Mukadam: is by a certain sect of arabs

Shahid Mukadam: who happen to be muslims

Joshua Williams: but i will always stereotype its a natural instinct

Shahid Mukadam: so there is a diff

Shahid Mukadam: good for yu

Joshua Williams: dont act like ur different

Shahid Mukadam: it will only show what ur intellect level is

Shahid Mukadam: i have studied enough about religions to stereotype anyone

Joshua Williams: not rascist my friend just looking out for me

Shahid Mukadam: i dont call christians terrorist coz hitler was one of them

Joshua Williams: lmao

Joshua Williams: hitler

Joshua Williams: he was not a christian

Joshua Williams: he claimed to be one

Shahid Mukadam: lol

Joshua Williams: theres a difference bud

Shahid Mukadam: thts precisely wat i told u

Shahid Mukadam: the terrorists claim to be muslims

Shahid Mukadam: see lemme tell ya something

Shahid Mukadam: u americans only know a few things

Shahid Mukadam: u are told only what certain leaders at the top want u to kow

Joshua Williams: the thing is i stereotype germans too

Joshua Williams: i stereo type my president

Shahid Mukadam: finding an easy way out of this conversation

Shahid Mukadam: ?

Shahid Mukadam: i will let you have it

Joshua Williams: lolz

Joshua Williams: not quite

Joshua Williams: i was making a point

Shahid Mukadam: i dont think its a worthy point...cant expect someone who stereotypes everything to think straight

Joshua Williams: now that ive talked to u though i know ur far from what i said earlier but i will still stereotype the next person who looks like a terrorist including kkk members

Joshua Williams: and so on

Joshua Williams: but it looks like americans are good at poker

Joshua Williams: lolz

Shahid Mukadam: i wasnt paying attention

Joshua Williams: looks like this is the end

Shahid Mukadam: maybe

Joshua Williams: ur a smart guy

Joshua Williams: very intelligent

Shahid Mukadam: come on where did ur stereotyping go

Joshua Williams: so again im sorry for the name calling

Joshua Williams: lolz

Shahid Mukadam: u supposed to say tht indians are intelligent

55- Fiction- Separate Ways

2009-10-31T12:42:00.000+05:30

This is my first attempt at 55-fiction. I was highly inspired after reading a few of them, this kind of writing is here to stay, So well this is me jumping into the bandwagon

It was like every other holiday, mom and dad packed their bags.

Mom was loud as usual, and Dad never cared to listen.

We went to the airport and scanned the luggage.

They never kissed, never said Good Bye, not a word shared .

My mom held my hand and they walked separate ways.