tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46484737554871318342024-03-12T20:47:30.071-07:00A beautiful mind!!Random thoughts and musings, reflections about life, opinion about everything that is and that could be, sarcasm, self deprecating humor: something for everybody!Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.comBlogger105125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648473755487131834.post-9506063664118193582019-03-20T19:59:00.001-07:002019-03-20T19:59:59.106-07:00TO DEATH<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">It has
been a year. Doesn’t feel like it. I sit in this empty house staring at its
emptiness which seems to reflect the emptiness in my heart. I close my eyes. It
reminds me of that day again. The day you left me for dad. You always wanted to
go with dad. He beat you to death. Or was it the other way around. Did death
beat you to get to him first? I don’t know. But death sure stormed into this
house to leave me devastated. I have been alone many times in life. I felt
lonely for the first time. I open my eyes. I still do.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The vacuum
in my mind has not filled. The scar in my soul has not healed. The hole in my
heart still bleeds. They say time heals everything. May be I don’t want it to. I
have spent days in this house mentally recreating the magical moments we shared
right here. They make up most of my life anyway. I don’t have much else. A
stopped clock, a broken bat, a spider web, an old calendar, a torn slipper, a
coffee mug, a dusted picture: all shake me up and take me back in time. I don’t
want to come back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">While I feel
lonely in the house I once ran riot in, I feel out of place in a crowded city that
I never left. The three of us have been to almost every nook and corner it has
to offer. Now I wander the streets thronging all our spots hoping to find you.
It brings pain and joy at once. I see you. I see us. And then I see me. Alone! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I have
been back to that day several times. I am there again now. I see you are cold.
Very cold. As cold as dad was. That doesn’t seem to affect you. You seem to be
sleeping rather peacefully. Like any other day. Your right eye opened ever so
slightly. I touch you. You don’t stir. I kiss you. You don’t flinch. How can
you be sleeping in this scorching sun? They say you can hear me. Can you? You
seem at peace. Just like dad. There seems to be a faint smile in the corner of
your lips. You are probably excited to see him again. What about me? Am I being
selfish?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It is déjà
vu again. I take you through the streets of Pondicherry one last time. But for
the first time it is not on two wheels but four. And for the first time you are
not touching my shoulder and asking me to go slowly. Why don’t you? I promise I
will listen this time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">We stop
somewhere. This place looks familiar. A little too familiar. I don’t want to
get out. I am forced to. I see dad has reserved you a spot right next to him. This
is not the first time fire and smoke have engulfed me. This is not the first
time I have lost my sense of time or place. But this is the first time I have
been truly shaken. I stutter through the ceremonies as my brain projects flashes
of our times together through the lens of my eyes. You burn outside while I burn
on the inside. I take your ashes to the exact same spot and watch you swim
towards dad. I know you will miss me but I am also happy for you. A wonderful
life comes to an end and hopefully another one starts. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It is
not that simple for me though. I come back to present day. The house is still
empty. And so am I as I still keep searching for bits and pieces of you to hold
on to. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It seems
like death has taken a liking to me. Not literally, at least not yet. But it
has been around in my life for the past few years. It has given me a lot of
scars but at the same time it has brought back so many memories that had been
locked away in all corners of my heart and mind. Childhood, boyhood and
adulthood flash through my eyes. I don’t seem to know the difference between
smiling and crying anymore. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It is
like we are pen friends. Did I just call death my friend? I guess he (or she) is.
I hate him for taking away the two people who defined my existence. Life barely
seems to tread along without them. I hate him less for making it painless. For
them. It has been a world of pain for me and I will have to live with it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">A kind
request to you. Don’t write to me again. Next time we meet; it should be in
person.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br /></div>
Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648473755487131834.post-66316563676786830882017-02-25T08:14:00.000-08:002018-01-24T06:48:17.464-08:00TIME AND AGAIN<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Time always
fascinates me. Time changes constantly. We all know that. We have been told
that. In the famous statement “Change is the only constant”, time is the
variable. But can we really see that? Think about it. We hardly see time
change. All you smarty pants out there, don’t look at your watches immediately!
What I meant was that in the hustle and bustle of our lives, we fail to notice
all the changes that happen around us. We are subconsciously aware of the
changing times but we sort of seamlessly ease in to all these changes that we
hardly notice them. Well, I am not being intentionally vague or purposefully
confusing here even though you may be cursing me already.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Well,
think about it. Time is like the earth or the sun or the millions of heavenly
objects. Science has educated us that all these things move. But we have never
really seen them do so (unless you are sitting in NASA with a super telescope).
Time is like wind. We can feel the change but it eludes our eyes. So years go
by and we live life adapting to (and accepting) all the changes that happen
around us through the years without really stopping to think and see the extent
and magnitude of those changes. And also there is the continuum paradox. Well,
don’t worry. This is not a science article. Imagine you keep seeing someone
every single day. You wouldn’t notice the subtle changes in their appearance as
they are so gradual that they go unnoticed. On the other hand if you are seeing
someone say after 5 years you are more likely to see the changes in them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">All
right.. all right.. I can see a few polite folks yelling: “So what are you
trying to say here?” Well, I will give you the usual answer: Nothing really. If
you still want to try and peek into my brain, don’t tell me I didn’t try to
warn you. Well, it is one of those random moments where I was just reminiscing
the old times and my idle mind started to chronicle all the changes that it has
lived through all these years. And it made me part nostalgic and part
philosophical. Don’t worry…. Won’t bore you with anything too deep though. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So let
us see, what has changed in our lives! Well, for starters, everything! The way
of life, the people around you, the landscape, the scenery, the air you
breathe, the roads you travel, the food you eat, the things you do and so on
and so forth! Nothing has been spared by the winds of time and change.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Be more
specific, you say. Okay! In those days, TV was not 24 hours. And it was not 240
channels either. I am sure lot of you would feel nostalgic about Doordarshan. I
used to sit watching the Doordarshan symbol spinning and spinning, waiting for
programming to begin. Or sometimes there used to be that multi-color bars that
covered the TV screen like a rainbow which always fascinated me. And I don’t
know if it is just me, but I felt that the programs in those days were better
than the ones that air now. But again I digress. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The
point is that in those days there were limited numbers of good quality shows (and of
different genres) that kept us hooked. I remember waiting for the next
Wednesday to watch Byomkesh Bakshi. Sunday mornings were always the most
exciting time of the week as we had great shows and cartoons back to back from I
think 9 to 12. And those were the only times you could watch these shows. If by
chance you miss it, there is no way you can watch it again. There was no re-telecast.
There was no internet (probably was inside some genius’ mind). I remember being
so bummed when I couldn’t watch a favorite show due to a power cut. I also
remember going to a friend who lived a few streets apart (where by some
miracle, there was no power cut) and asking him what happened in that day’s
episode. I can’t imagine anyone doing these things nowadays. To the next
generation, this might even sound outright funny (I can already see Maya making
fun of me), but these are bits of nostalgia for me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">There
was no Youtube (or multiple music channels) those days and Chitrahaar or
Rangoli were the only means for you to catch a new song or reminisce an old classic.
And ohhh…. Movies. What can I say? There was so much buzz and anticipation over
the release of a new movie. The only way to watch a new movie was in the
theater. And we only watched our most favorite actors’ movies (or an absolute
classic) in the theater. So it felt like a huge deal. I would always be in
countdown mode that whole week. And then there was ice cream, popcorn etc… It
felt very special. Nowadays we have the option to watch every other movie in
the theater though more often than not, we watch them in our laptops while
multitasking a bunch of other things. And a week later, we don’t even remember
if we ever watched that movie or not. It is no surprise that I distinctly
remember only the movies (the theater I watched them in and several other details)
that I watched up until I probably went to college. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Moving
on to food. Well, that too has changed a lot. I remember fruit and vegetable
vendors making rounds every single morning. I used to love the exercise of
going out and picking fresh vegetables. No supermarkets, no genetically
modified shiny fruits that look like that they came out of a washing machine,
no cutely labelled organic fancy (read expensive) stuff! Just fresh fruits and
vegetables right out of neighboring farm lands. And lots of variety too. I know
it will be a weird comparison, but if you think about it, even though the
number of dishes in restaurants have risen exponentially, the
ingredients are actually shrinking. There are vegetables that I no longer see
or are very scarce these days. And talk about restaurants and fancy places
serving food! Well, I know we have a lot of options these days. But somehow I
feel that they just try too much to be different and unique. Don’t get me
wrong, they are very good, but I still prefer the older ones which kept it
relatively simple but immensely delicious. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Let us switch gears a bit. How
about the stark contrast in watching a Bjorn Borg or a Stefan Edberg play to
the current crop (barring Federer of course) go on and on in endless marathon
rallies like soft skinned cyborgs? How about the fact that in a few years, we
could see 1 over cricket matches playing to packed arenas? I can just go on and
on but I am sure you don’t want me to. And don’t get me wrong: I am not saying
that all this change is bad. By no means! I am just saying that our lives are
changing daily at an infinitesimal velocity and ferocity. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And if
you think about it, technology is at the forefront of most of the changes that
have transpired in our lives. It is what drove us out of the streets and
playgrounds into our cellphones and gaming consoles. It is what gave us the
option of skipping a get together with friends and to catch up later on
Facebook or Whatsapp. It is the one that trumped our urge to catch a movie on
the giant screen to watching it on your iPad on the go. It is the one that
egged us to tear away from our roots and explore the vast expanses of the earth
(and beyond). Well, I guess you get the point here. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">There
will be a day when we (at least some of us) will be travelling in cars that
drive themselves, when robots will clean our dishes and autobots will cook
delicacies for us as we watch a movie in our Google glasses while telecommuting
to work. And to our delusional mind, all this would seem like life as usual.
But to the deep subconscious, if and when it wakes up from a slumber, it would
be another of time’s in-numerous illusions that will, like it or not, leave you
transformed and transfixed to equal measure. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648473755487131834.post-29020231515803774812016-12-27T00:11:00.000-08:002016-12-28T09:06:52.478-08:00HOLDING ON<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In our
lives, we have several relationships, some we are born with, some we forge,
some we fall in love with, some we create, some we stumble upon, some we
stumble into and so on and so forth. But almost no relationship is perfect and
almost never is it unconditional. Don’t get me wrong, it doesn’t have to be. In
fact, to be fair, it shouldn’t be. Give and take is the basis for all
relationships to thrive. People expect things out of you and you have your own
set of expectations that you hope (wishfully perhaps) they will live up to. Be
it emotional, material, philosophical, physical, metaphysical, psychological,
or something else, we all have our mutual needs and compulsions that we impose
or have to live up to. The fact that these expectations are the root cause of
strain in relationships is a different matter altogether and I don’t intend to
get into that. Bottom line, most of us are not saints, and so we cannot give
unconditionally.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">But
rarely, very rarely do a very select few of us experience a relationship that
is purely unconditional. Even one sided, I may say. There are people, yes there
are, whose minds are very simple and hearts extra-large. All they care about is
you and they don’t care how much you love them back. They don’t broadcast their
love for you. They hold it in their eyes and it reverberates into our hearts. They
look out for us as we march ahead in this world without looking back. They will
be your stepping stones, but they won’t tell you that. They make countless
sacrifices but take every effort to mask those from your eyes. They live their
lives for us and we owe ours to them. Do we realize that in time? Do we
celebrate them? Do we love them back? Do we make them feel special? Do we slow
down, sit back and enjoy a few moments with them? Do we make them feel it was
all worth it, even though they never doubted it? These are questions each of us
has to grapple with our own conscience.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I was
insanely lucky to have one such person in my life. I was gifted to have you,
dad. You didn’t judge me. You didn’t preach to me. You didn’t question me. You never
imposed but always inspired me. You willed me to reach for the skies, yet you
didn’t resort to false praises or promises. You took no shortcuts in life and
made sure I appreciated that. You expected everything of me but yet nothing
from me. You never ignored me. You always adored me. And most of all, you
believed in me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">You
laughed with me and cried for me. You carried me on your shoulders and you
watched life through my eyes. You played with me, prayed for me, listened to
every silly little story I had, told me the ones I wanted to hear over and over
again, pushed me, held me, carried me literally and emotionally, gave me
strength, took my pain, fought for me and did countless other things which will
remain forever in my mind, heart and tears. You made my world yours and you
were my world. You were everything for me. I don’t know if I believe in God or
not. You see, I didn’t have to. I had you. Or rather, I have you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">As a school
friend of mine exquisitely put it: “You were a part of every frame in the movie
of my life, but you settled in a corner, letting me have the limelight.” A
subtle yet surreal statement that put your life and mine in a symphonic perspective.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I have
seen you when I was a child. And then I saw you as a child. Both were fascinating
experiences in their own respect. I laughed in both and cried in one. I cannot
forget either. Happiness gives us comfort while pain gives us strength. You
taught me life without ever trying to. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I miss
hearing your voice every single day. I miss playing tennis with you. I miss
watching you play. I miss those laser precision serves that barely hit the line
to the dismay of your opponent. I miss laughing with my mom every time you run
aggressively towards the ball and clock it to the net and then curse yourself. I
miss yapping pointlessly with you. I miss enjoying your silly fights with
autowallas. I miss listening to you talk about random things with your
trademark wisdom sprinkled all along. I miss the worldly conversations with
you. I also miss the silence between us. I miss watching you sew. I miss
watching you make love to that 30 year old Remington typewriter. I miss seeing
you undress a coconut in record time. I miss sitting behind you on the scooter,
hugging your stomach and whispering in your ear every single thing I see on the
streets. I miss you sitting behind me in my bike, your hand gently resting on
my shoulder and soaking in the sceneries in silence. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Every
time I think of you, a tear makes its way down my cheek as another waits for
its turn. I can’t make my peace with the fact that you have left me. I don’t
think I can ever. I can’t fathom that you have gone to a place I can’t find. At
least not yet. Sometimes I wonder when I will get there. How will you look
like? How will I look like? I imagine all the things that we will have to talk.
Lots of things to catch up. Do you miss me? I do. I look up at the sky and
smile every day hoping that you are looking. Make sure you do. Take care dad. Until
we meet again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLaa7Wr_wDGeZ04X4k53K9c3zzkOKUSXz8vXZ0KUwiNttaUXHEvm6OfEubZwFzw6XQJMlSHKCi0qpCSPrpX_9ae3704VWr8QkUKvGCw46b6Y6mqGv8cKXSewGim7BD-xQ8AcTJewvONaA/s1600/leaf_frost.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLaa7Wr_wDGeZ04X4k53K9c3zzkOKUSXz8vXZ0KUwiNttaUXHEvm6OfEubZwFzw6XQJMlSHKCi0qpCSPrpX_9ae3704VWr8QkUKvGCw46b6Y6mqGv8cKXSewGim7BD-xQ8AcTJewvONaA/s640/leaf_frost.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<i style="color: orange; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline;">My first memory of your loss</i><br />
<i style="color: orange; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline;"><br /></i>
<i style="color: orange; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline;"><br /></i>
<i style="color: orange; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline;"><br /></i></div>
</div>
Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648473755487131834.post-53107265888030606362016-11-12T09:09:00.000-08:002016-11-12T09:09:17.022-08:00THE MYTH OF TIME<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Time
plays such a crucial part in our lives. We are very aware of time. Or at least
we think we are. A lot of people (not me though) are very organized. We seem to
have things figured out. We know what to do and when. We know our limitations
and strengths. We prioritize. We plan our present and future (sometimes even
our past) meticulously and march ahead with guns blazing (I hope, not literally) and confidence
brimming. Well, we all face hurdles but let us say we get the better of them
more often than not and life is good (as much as it can be). Well, I see a few
of you scratching your heads and the others wondering if I will ever get to the
point (if there is one). For those yawning, may I suggest some coffee? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Before
you start speculating, let me point out that this is not a reflection about the
purpose of our lives (though that would make some good fodder material). I hear
a few sighs (of relief?!) Today something random occurred which triggered a
queer thought. Let me explain. These days, as I hold my daughter in my arms and
rock her to sleep, it feels like heaven. Even after she is long asleep, I stand
there in front of a mirror with her tucked and wrapped around me and watch her
sleep like a doll. Slowly and sadly I realize that this is a short term pleasure
that I have to cherish and relish as much as I can before time runs out on me.
I will not be able to hold her in my arms (or for that matter hold on to her)
forever. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Now this
got me thinking. This is just one little trick of time (and its partner in
crime, life). There are several such instances where we are tricked into a
status quo and we never think about the day when we will no longer be able to
do, feel or see something that we have enjoyed, experienced or fascinated by for
pretty much our entire life. Now this is
what I was referring to earlier. Time is such a con artist. It is a master
illusionist. It makes us feel that we are in control and then all of a sudden,
in one sweeping action, it brings us crashing down to reality. I see a few of
you are looking at your watch. Don’t worry… I won’t take too much of your time.
By the way… did you see time smiling back at you (or was it a smirk?)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">We are
all in different stages of our life. So some of you may relate to this better
(even a lot more than I do) and some may be still be young enough to think that
I am spitting out hot “garbage” (you are allowed to use the more stylish and
cool French pronunciation here). The thing is there will come a time (or rather
a moment and a very defining one) in your life when you will realize that you
are no longer able to do something that was second nature to you till that
point that you had not even thought about a life without that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">No one
likes to be told that you cannot do something. Or more so, that you will not be
able to do something. That is like the ultimate insult to our ego. So for a
long time, we fight as hard as we can to convince others (and ourselves) that
we can. We stretch our body and mind to be our 20 year old self as long as we
can. We feel indestructible and incomparable. But then we age, not time. And
slowly we start feeling vulnerable. So I felt odd when for the first time, my
shoulder hurt after bowling for just one hour. My brain had still not come to
terms with another shock. The fact that I had transitioned from a fast bowler
to a medium pacer. That realization was reserved for another day. I felt
frustrated when I was not able to run around the tennis court as I had done
just a year ago. I couldn’t believe I was puffing and panting after just 2
sets. Well, had I known on that day, that exactly a year later, I would say
time out after 1 set, I might have felt a little better. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I
accompany my parents for their doctor visits. So every time one of them went to
our eye doctor, he would ask my mom or dad to read a chart that had letters of
decreasing sizes. He would then put in lenses of different powers and they
would go again. At that time, there was always a small happiness inside me as I
would be able to read every line in that chart (down to the microscopic sized
alphabets in the last row). Had I known that one day I will not be able to read
the last row (or may be even the ones above it), I am sure I would not have had
that little inexplicable moment of glee.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">During
my school and college days, I used to remember all my friends’ birthdays and their
phone numbers by heart. Nowadays I have outsourced that part of my brain to
smart phones and social media (boy that sounds cool, but it ain’t). May be my RAM can’t handle it anymore and my
ROM has reached its capacity. Or maybe I should just eat more ladies' fingers.
(Relax peeps, I meant the vegetable).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I still
remember my first winter in college. Winter in India is not a common thing and
for a guy from South India, it is probably unheard of. I studied in BITS Pilani
which is in Rajasthan, popular for its desert and heat. But it gets awfully
cold during winter. So there I was, standing in the middle of the road
(Courtesy a flat tire) on the coldest day in I guess 20 years, with a t-shirt,
jeans and slippers. And strangely it felt amazing. I was shivering but wouldn’t
have taken a sweater even if one was available. I was loving it. And that crazy
ride that followed after is still etched in my memory as an uber cool adventure
(I should probably write about that). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Anyways…
fast forward now… winter has become an integral part of my life as I am in
Chicago now. But I am not that daredevil anymore. I still love to go out and
play in the snow but who knows when I will realize that I can’t do that
anymore. That day is not too far off. The only difference is that on that day
in Rajasthan, I was a young, happy and ignorant boy who just soaked in an
adventure, whereas today I relish it with careful abandon. I know that these times
won’t last forever either. Which among these two moments is more precious: well that
is a real toughie.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I think
I have reached a logical stopping point. By that I mean either you have left by
now or you are thinking of pouring that hot coffee on my face. My intention was
not to bum people out by writing about sad and high handed philosophical
compost. So if I made you rue the last 5 minutes of your life, allow me to
finish with a happy thought.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">We know
we cannot beat time. The realization may come sooner or later or never (that
would be ideal in some ways). But the thing is you cannot change anything. So
live life to the fullest and enjoy these precious moments. Cherish them as if
they will never happen again. Treasure them in your mind and play them over and
over through your eyes and heart. They will make you forget everything else and
experience bliss. Freeze every moment of your life. May be that is the only way
to get the better of time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648473755487131834.post-86438663304343243562016-10-08T19:47:00.000-07:002016-10-08T19:47:33.639-07:00BE(LOVED) - THE CONCLUSION<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="http://mindfiction.blogspot.com/2016/09/beloved.html"><span style="color: orange; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>Read Part 1 here</b></span></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Stephen
sipped his cup of tea gingerly as he shifted glances between Ghanshyam and
Meera. “I wanted to talk to you about your son Neeraj.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“I don’t
want to talk anything about that devil.” Ghanshyam walked out, his face red in
fury.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Meera
lowered her head in anguish. “What is there to talk? You probably would have
heard everything from the inspector.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Stephen
gave her a blank look. “Not much. He said your son was involved in the riots. I
talked to Mustafa and he says you are like family to him. I want to know why
Neeraj killed his best friend.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Tears
poured down her cheeks as she buried her face between her hands and continued
sobbing copiously. “I don’t know. I don’t understand. I never will. They were
inseparable. They didn’t have any other friends. They didn’t need any. They had
each other. They played cricket the day before. It was Ilyas’ birthday that
week. We all ate biryani at his place. I don’t want to know. Satan’s shadow
loomed over all of us that day.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Stephen
looked her straight in the eye. “Mustafa doesn’t know this?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">There
was nothing but pain there. “No, the inspector never told anyone. He said it
would serve no purpose. Lots of lives were lost that day and lots more
shattered beyond repair. He said that was enough damage for one lifetime and
more.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Stephen’s
next question stung. “Do you think he might still be alive somewhere?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">But Meera
had made her peace as well. “I hope not. For his own sake!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 115%;">---------------------------------#***************#---------------------------------<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Stephen
looked at Inspector Ravikant in a different light this time. “You are a good man.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“No one
is. Some try. Some fake it. Others don’t know what that means. I live two blocks
away from them. Every day I cross their houses on the way to the station. Ilyas
and Neeraj will always be playing cricket on the street, day and night. On my
way back in the evening, I will play with them for half an hour every day. They
were such happy kids. They were full of love. But hate turned to be so much
more powerful and vicious. A part of me died that day. It was not death that
shook me. It was the abuse of life! It was the brutality and the callousness
with which people were killed, abused, raped, burnt, tortured and mangled that
day that convinced of the pure evil that is dormant inside all of us. Religion
is just one avenue that lets the inner devil out.” Ravikant’s agony made
Stephen’s pale in comparison.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> “I think Neeraj is still alive. And I believe
you know where he is.” Stephen’s words shook Ravikant. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“I don’t
know if Neeraj is still alive or not. But he had always wanted to go away from
here, as far as he could go. As far as the road would take him! To the farthest
point he could ever reach! Where all the seas merged into one! He had told me
that when he could go no more, he would sit and stare at infinity forever.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Stephen
thanked Ravikant who stopped him on his tracks. “Don’t try to find him. For
your own sake! What will you get out of it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Stephen
smiled. “I want to know why!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Ravikant
shook his head. “And then?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Stephen
shrugged his shoulders as he walked out. “You are a good man, Ravikant.” He meant
it more than ever. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: 26.6667px;">---------------------------------#***************#---------------------------------</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Stephen knew
where he had to go. He had to go on until he could go no more. A place where
the land ends and water begins to spread around its wings into eternity! A
place where the water meets the horizon to host the sun in all its glory! A
place where the three seas merge into one: Kanyakumari! He immediately set off
to the southernmost part of India in search of Neeraj. He initially wondered
how he was going to look for a boy in a huge town like that. But it wasn’t as
difficult as he thought! After all, he knew where to look for. After one month
of wandering around, on one glorious evening when the sky was lit up by the sun
going to bed and the moon waking up by its side, Stephen finally saw Neeraj in
the twilight. He was selling groundnuts in the beach. He followed the
unsuspecting boy home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Neeraj sat
on the floor in his small hut whereas Stephen sat on the only chair that looked
like it would fall apart any time. The squeaking of the chair was the only
sound amidst the grave silence. Even the air in between them was still. No
words were spoken. A few glares were exchanged. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Stephen
did not take his eye off Neeraj who was intently staring at the floor. His eyes
had no fear, no anger, no pain, no remorse! He was happy! There was a stoic
calm in his demeanor that infuriated Stephen. How could one be so cold blooded?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">When he
finally spoke, his words reverberated thunderously across the sand walls. “Looks
like you are living quite a life here. Especially after what you did in Deogarh!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The
mention of Deogarh stirred Neeraj a bit. He looked at Stephen for a moment but
then turned his gaze away to the door. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Stephen
spoke with rage. “Don’t you have any heart? How could there be so much
vengeance in such a young mind?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">His
wrath had no effect on Neeraj who had fixated his gaze on the door. It was not
sure if he was waiting for someone to come and relieve him of the misery or signaling
Stephen to leave. Stephen was going nowhere without an answer. “Speak up. Why
did you kill the boy who loved you unconditionally? Why did you abandon your
parents who adored you? And how can you lead an escapist life like this so
peacefully?” He did not get one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Stephen’s
blood was boiling. He had not seen anyone more cruel or inhuman. He was so mad
that he did not know what to do. He got up with ferocity and rushed towards
Neeraj to confront him when he heard a sound at the door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Neeraj…..
I am home my friend. Look what I made for you today. Pineapple Kulfi. Your
favorite!” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It was Ilyas. Stephen’s heart stopped for a second.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: 26.6667px;">---------------------------------#***************#---------------------------------</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Ravikant
saw a letter lying on his desk. It was from Stephen Dayashankar. He quickly
ripped it open with trepidation. He was not ready for what came next.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Ravi…
You will not admit it. But I am sure you have been waiting for my letter every single
day. And I have been dying to write you this letter. I found Neeraj. Yes I did.
He is in Kanyakumari. But you won’t believe what else I saw. I saw Ilyas. Yes,
you read it correct. Ilyas is still alive. He is alive! The two little devils
are together. Both of them live in a small hut by the sea. Neeraj sells groundnuts
in the beach whereas Ilyas has a small kulfi shop. They sent you their regards.
They both are so happy. I had tears in my eyes. There is still humanity left in
this world. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Ilyas,
Neeraj, Ghanshyam, Meera and Mustafa have all found the worlds they want to
inhabit and the lives they want to live. They have all made their peace with
nature and God. I think we have got our closure too. I guess it is good bye
from me my friend.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Tears rolled down Ravikant’s cheeks as he smiled from the
heart after a very long time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: 26.6667px;">---------------------------------#***************#---------------------------------</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: small; text-align: justify;"> </span><b style="font-family: "trebuchet ms"; font-size: medium;"><i><span style="color: #e69138;">- A SHORT STORY BY RAJ</span></i></b></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648473755487131834.post-77444693549206389572016-09-29T14:36:00.003-07:002016-09-29T14:36:51.781-07:00BE(LOVED)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Stephen
Dayashankar is a visual artist who has been taking photographs for over fifteen
years. He became interested in photography at the age of sixteen upon seeing
the works of Robert Capa and has since devoted his life to creating expressive
images.” The announcer’s voice barely registered in his mind. “Why do you want
to kill me? We were friends yesterday.” A little boy engulfed in terror. A
masked face brimming with anger! He closed his eyes. It made no difference! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The
anchor’s words resonated across the audience. “In Stephen’s own words, the
language of photography is potent and expanding by the day. Photographs hold
infinite power to influence, reform, incite, heal, provoke and cure. The pictures
that hold the most power are quite often the ones that are the most
devastating.” A sword smeared in warm blood flashed through his mind opening up
a wound in his heart. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Stephen
has dedicated his life to mirror people’s lives, echo their sufferings and
transmit those emotions to the world. We pruned several hundreds of photographs
before selecting his masterpiece for the “Photograph of the Year” award. This
picture was not powerful because it was on the front page of newspapers. It is
powerful because it is in the minds of the people of this country. Its
influence was birthed by the audience and the movement that it spurred.” The
voices in his head were getting stronger. “You should not be here Sir. You
should leave right now if you want to live.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“His dramatic
capture etched the entire horror of Deogarh into our memory. The small boy
running for his life being chased by another young lad clad in saffron will
haunt us forever. A blood dripping sword in his hand, his assailant’s masked
face conveyed an emotion unlike any other. The small boy’s visage and fate half
captured as he runs past a brick wall with the sword inches away from his neck.”
The anchor’s chronicle of his photograph sent a shiver down his spine. He could
hear a distant wail. A helpless yelp of looming death amidst loud cries of
anguish, clanking of swords and disturbing smell of rotten flesh and frozen
blood! He closed his ears. It grew louder!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“So
without further ado, we present to you the man who inspired us all to rise
above communal hatred and work religiously towards bringing down the iron
curtain of religion with his poignant photograph: Mr.Stephen Dayashankar.” A
headless torso twitched violently trying one last time to hang on to life. Acid
smoke engulfed his lungs. A tear droplet made its way out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> “Sir, could you please come forward to receive
your award?” The sea of people in front of him metamorphosed into an ocean of
corpses and skeletons. One of them slowly limped towards him with one arm
extended.</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">“Mr.Stephen…
Are you all right?” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">He walked out of the auditorium with tears running down his
cheeks profusely.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: 26.6667px;">---------------------------------#**********#-------------------------------------</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Ravikant
Pandey sat at his desk sipping his tea lazily and glanced through a case file
rather reluctantly. He thought a few inmates would trickle in but did not expect
a visitor.</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“You
don’t seem from around here. I don’t think you have come to the wrong address
either. What do you want?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“My name
is Stephen Dayashankar. I am a photojournalist. I believe you were the
Inspector in charge when the riots of Deogarh happened.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The
mention of the riots brought a stark change in Ravikant’s expression. “Your
face seemed familiar. Now I know why. What do you want now?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Stephen
ignored the generous sarcasm in the Inspector’s voice. “I want to know what
happened to a few people who were entangled in the riots.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“The
ones in your photograph?” Ravikant’s voice was stern.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Yes.
Have you seen it?” Stephen offered a copy. The inspector showed it away. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Everyone in this country has probably seen your photograph. It is not worth
seeing again.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Stephen
was prepared for insults. “Do you know what happened to these kids?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Ravikant
continued perusing his file. “Probably dead!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The lack
of emotion in Ravikant’s voice annoyed Stephen. “Probably? Are you not sure?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“More
than 200 people died that day. I didn’t keep track.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Stephen
was clearly flustered. “Please don’t be so irresponsible and insensitive to
human life.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Ravikant
was nonchalant. “If you see as many deaths as I do, you will be worse.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Stephen
was writhing in anger. “I will probably do something to prevent those deaths.
Back to my question: Are both of them dead?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“I can’t
say for sure. Several bodies were mangled so badly that they were completely unrecognizable.
But as far as I could tell, Ilyas, the boy who was being chased was most likely
killed. There was no way he could have escaped. As for the boy who tried and
probably killed him, Neeraj, there is a chance he could have fled the town,
though I would give it a very low chance.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Stephen
was not impressed. “Can you give me their addresses?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Ravikant
gave him a sharp glare. “You have done enough already. Can you leave them
alone?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Stephen
had had enough. “Look here Inspector. If you want to play hard ball, be my
guest. I can make one phone call and you will get one the very next minute from
your superiors and then you will be forced to give me the address yourself. I
don’t want to that yet. And trust me, I am not here officially. I am here for
my own sake. Any conversation I will have with their families will stay and die
with me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Ravikant
grudgingly wrote the addresses on a piece of paper and handed it to Stephen who
walked out of the police station in a hurry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 115%;">---------------------------------#**********#-------------------------------------<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Mustafa
was a middle aged man in his late forties. He was tall and well built, walked
with a slight limp and had a long half white beard. He seemed quite surprised
to see a visitor at his door. He ushered Stephen in. No words were spoken for
several minutes. Stephen finally decided to break the silence. “I am here to
talk about your son.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Mustafa
remained stoic. “What is left to talk?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Stephen
spoke with a heavy heart. “I had seen his eyes just before they disappeared
behind that brick wall. He was pale and terrified. Fear and horror had engulfed
him. But I also saw a small glimmer of hope in his eyes. I couldn’t understand
that. How can one feel hope in such despair? How can one think about life when
death is inches away? Those eyes have haunted me for the past six months. I
haven’t been able to sleep. He must have been a special boy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Mustafa
smiled for the first time. “Extremely! I have not seen a happier child in my life.
He was happy with everything. He lived life with abandon. He had a small world.
He painted it with smiles. May be God wasn’t happy without him and wanted him
back to spread joy in heaven. In a way, I am glad I didn’t see his corpse. I
have never seen him without a smile on his face and at least it will stay that
way. I can spend the rest of my life with the image of his beaming face
emblazoned in my heart.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Stephen
dreaded his next question. “Why are you still here?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Mustafa had
made his peace already. “This is my home. This is my world. I have lived here
all my life. These are my people. The people I have known for years. I have
spent my life’s best days here, shared happiness and sorrow alike with my
friends. What happened that day was unlike this place. It was possessed by some
evil spirit. Darkness had consumed us that day. The people who killed were not
from here. They came from some wicked place, unleashed terror and slipped into
the night, leaving us broken and battered. But they still could not divide us. No
one will ever. I will die here knowing that there will be more than four people
ready to shoulder me to my grave.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Stephen
decided not to rekindle any more painful memories. “Thank you for talking to
me. I can’t offer you any solace but you will be in my prayers every day. I
need to talk to some more people. Can you tell me where this address is?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">What Mustafa said sent a shiver down Stephen’s
spine. “Oh… they are our neighbors. Wonderful people! Ghanshyam and I have been
best friends for the last 20 years. Ilyas and Neeraj were inseparable. But life
has played a deadly game with them too. They lost Neeraj that day and have
never been the same ever again.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms";"><span style="color: #e69138;"><b><i> TO BE CONCLUDED (NEXT WEEK)….</i></b></span></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms";"><span style="color: #e69138;"><b><i> </i></b></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
</div>
Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648473755487131834.post-706091189704680662016-09-11T07:21:00.000-07:002018-11-24T08:26:43.304-08:00ALIEN-ATED<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A couple of aliens wanted to explore the outer space and somehow landed on Earth. Since we have so much to offer, the aliens had a tough time deciding which place on earth they should visit first. Check out what they decided!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCZYUWhb2VttlYODrYZWmk-BQtVSEOTvO9jDk8wBM7ZAXXP7nOOE9qOW0fZbFxdm32_so1LdHdB0qc55NPDmT8BDNAuza5sWshe8D-0QgTLLBGsAv2FIMUFINemVJgPDe-uWc6FQpQrZ0/s1600/cartoon+-+world+fun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="455" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCZYUWhb2VttlYODrYZWmk-BQtVSEOTvO9jDk8wBM7ZAXXP7nOOE9qOW0fZbFxdm32_so1LdHdB0qc55NPDmT8BDNAuza5sWshe8D-0QgTLLBGsAv2FIMUFINemVJgPDe-uWc6FQpQrZ0/s640/cartoon+-+world+fun.jpg" width="850" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648473755487131834.post-53452213656532386562016-08-24T22:47:00.000-07:002016-08-31T07:21:36.730-07:00ALTAR EGO<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">His head
was splitting. It seemed like every nerve was revolting, ready to explode any
minute. His heart had lost its mirth long ago, but today it seems to have given
up its spirit. His purpose in doubt; his existence questioned. He felt pain no
more. He had had enough of it. Numbness had engulfed his veins. He felt like a
slaughter sacrifice waiting his turn at the altar. Only a little too
desperately. He looked at his friend who was sitting right in front of him.
What has life done to us, he thought?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">We were
so happy, vivacious, lived life by the minute and enjoyed every second of it.
We felt invincible. We fought in the mud, got drenched in the rain, sang out of
tune, danced like nobody was watching, screamed at the top of our lungs. We sat
for hours staring at nothing, talked for hours about nothing. We went on a long
drive to nowhere, ate and drank everything we could get our hands on, fished in
the pond for hours only to get a shoe for a prized catch, fished for a few more
hours in search of its pair without luck, roamed the streets in the night with
carefree abandon, spent the very last ounce of energy in our bodies and came
back to crash into our beds as if never to wake up again. And then we woke up the
next day fresh and ready for another adventure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And so
life rolled on amidst chaos, excitement, fervor and charm. Day after day went
by chasing nothing and enjoying everything. I wish I had never woken up after
one of those days. But I did. And here I am. A changed man. A deflated man. A
lost man. A man no more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">His
thoughts brought him back to reality. He looked at his friend again who smiled
casually. There was the same innocence and zeal that he had seen years ago. How
could that be possible? When did we part ways? How does he not have any of
life’s scars? Why has God been so kind to him? Or maybe was he too cruel to me?
Is he even there? His blood started boiling even more. His friend still had his
smile as he looked at him with even eyes. That made him even more livid.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“What is
it that makes you so happy? Seeing me like this. Helpless, hapless and
hopeless. Seems like life has been very kind to you my friend. If you had been
me, then probably you wouldn’t even be here. Do you know how much I have
endured? Do you know how it feels when your wing is ripped apart? Feather by
feather. Do you know what it does to your self-esteem? Have you felt scrutiny? Have
you experienced love? Do you know how it feels to yearn for affection and not
receive any? Have you experienced failure? Do you know how it is to fail in the
eyes of your friends? Your family? Your foes? And the coup de grace! Do you how
excruciating it is to finally fail in your own eyes? The final fall! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Have you
ever thought how would after life be? Would it be more peaceful? It certainly
sounds more mysterious. Do heaven and hell exist? Wonder where I would go. Will
I be transported through space to get there? It would be cool to see some
planets on the way. And be it hell or heaven that I reach, I probably will be
better off than I am now. I wouldn’t have to work consistently to satisfy
others. I won’t be judged. I would already have been judged. I can be myself. I
won’t be a disappointment to the people I know as they won’t be there. Well at
least I hope so. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Yes, I
have considered death. I have no shame in admitting it. You may think I am a
coward. Well heck, maybe I am. Isn’t it easier to just press the shutdown
button? We can restart in a new life if there is something like that or be lost
into obscurity. Isn’t that an interesting prospect? To myself and to the people
who are tired of me? May be. But I can’t muster courage for that either. Will
someone miss me? Am I disappointing them again? For one last time. Do I owe
them to live? Do I owe myself a death? I can’t seem to decide. Like every other
decision, I put this one off too. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Why
don’t you say something? Are you deaf? That would be so cool actually. But I
know you can hear me. The smirk on your lips tells me you are enjoying this.
You think you are safe inside that mirror. You think it is cool to see me make
a fool of myself in front of you. In front you, of all people? While you stand
there majestically reminding me again and again of my glorified past! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">He
looked at the man in front of him who was so calm and composed, so carefree and
happy, so blissful and naïve, so simple and kind, so full of life and love. This
was a man he once knew. This was a man he once loved. This was a man he once
was. He wondered how long it had been since he left him inside the mirror. He
couldn’t remember. That was the man he still wanted to be. Everyday! Or even just
for one day! A wry smile came to his lips. He laughed it up. Life indeed does
strange things to you. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxcdWVT0PyYuXSWcGI4WIZoHilStk0WrsJryTzeGJfwXzT7f8Sksx79nnA2Fib5glg-uW0ApsRKqUPPsPkJh8nq149x5Y0BLFHXMK__yrDe6Lm63ttXiSFBFQTHePouFm9I7Zn-D2JXiQ/s1600/altarego.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxcdWVT0PyYuXSWcGI4WIZoHilStk0WrsJryTzeGJfwXzT7f8Sksx79nnA2Fib5glg-uW0ApsRKqUPPsPkJh8nq149x5Y0BLFHXMK__yrDe6Lm63ttXiSFBFQTHePouFm9I7Zn-D2JXiQ/s400/altarego.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648473755487131834.post-19345766218123752552016-08-02T16:12:00.000-07:002016-08-03T17:18:05.161-07:00FIRE AND SMOKE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Death, I
believe is the ultimate mystery. Life is known, at least for the most part.
Death is not, again for the most part. Probably we can feel every other emotion
that is out there to be felt. But death lurks in the dark. It is just around
the corner all our lives, but we don’t live to see it. Yet it embraces each and
every one of us eventually. When it decides to, depends on our luck or the lack
of it. But even though we mostly don’t see our death coming or prefer not to
think about it, we experience death more than we realize. What we understand
from it will differ and will shape our eventual tryst with it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">As I sit
there watching you sleep as peacefully as ever, I feel numb. I have lost a
sense of time or place. I know I am going somewhere but I don’t feel myself
moving. I don’t feel the sun scorching my skin. I have lost every other sense
but sight. I see you in front of me, sleeping with a gentle smile across your
lips just like any other day. But something is different. Today is not every
other day. Although I want it to be more than ever. I don’t recognize the streets
I have driven by for the last 35 years. I don’t realize how much time we were
there together in that van, seeing each other like it was the first time we set
eyes on each other. I don’t remember our first encounter. And you wouldn’t remember
our last. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I have
never seen you cry. You have never seen me cry. Not for long I guess. I see my
entire childhood flash in front of my eyes and the only thing that is constant
in every frame is you. I sit there in vacuum as a single tear is resisting
gravity in a last ditch attempt to prevent my defeat. All through my life, you
have let me win every game we have played. I guess it is about time I lost. The
tear agrees. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The lone
tear slowly makes its way down my cheek as I sit there still in disbelief.
There is a storm of despair stirring inside me as I try hard and resist every
single tear it produces. Don’t they say one should cry his heart out? I don’t want
to. Every tear is a memory. Your memory. I want to keep it inside me forever.
This storm is never going to die. The tears are never going to stop. But I know
I will never let you go.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The van
stops. I see people around me. Nothing registers. They take you away from me momentarily.
I hear voices in my head. I meander in a trance as I find you on a wooden bed.
You seem comfortable. I am told to say and do things. I comply mechanically.
The thought that I might not see your face again makes its way into my head for
the first time. I shudder. I close my eyes. I see your face. It doesn’t exactly
look like how you are now. It is not the very first one that I remember as a
child either. It is a unique mixture of your face that I grew up watching and
adoring all these years. It is your face just for me. I fear no more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Several
years ago, I lost something. My loss was painful, at first. I then got used to
it pretty soon. I could never forget it, but I learnt to live with it. Or
rather without it. But it took me several years to realize what that did to
you. I have always known you to be such a tough guy that I didn’t imagine the
extent my loss would affect you. You never told me. But one day I saw it in
your eyes. I saw a different man. A man whom you managed to hide well from me. A
man more endearing than you already were. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> Fire and smoke engulf me. Your thought alone
consumes me. I come back the next day. You are still there. Well, in pieces. They
say you burned all night. I am asked to collect your bones. I want to keep one.
I am told not to. Well, I don’t have to worry as you are in my bones. I put
your remains in a copper pot and bathe you in milk. I am supposed to give you to
Mother Nature. I am not ready to let you go. I reluctantly go to the sea and am
about to open the pot when all of a sudden a giant wave comes roaring as she
grabs you away from me in a flash. I stand there transfixed having lost your last
physical remains. Looks like nature was so eager to have you amidst her. I am
sure you will love her company. But I hope you will miss me occasionally and
step out from wherever you are to see what I am up to. I will look out for you.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I come
back home. I look into the mirror. I see you. I reminisce of all that has
transpired. It was a strange day. You wore my shirt. I wore your dhoti. I
burned with you. And you will live with me. Forever!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648473755487131834.post-58664487156378713542016-04-02T23:23:00.000-07:002016-04-26T18:12:28.493-07:00TO DEATH AND AFTER (CONCLUSION)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.mindfiction.blogspot.com/2016/03/to-death-and-after.html"><b>Read Part I here</b></a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Hania looked out into the canyon
and took a deep breath. “He is standing right in front of you, my friend. And
no, he is not famous. Nobody knows about him. Never knew!” For the first time,
a shiver went down </span><st1:place style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;" w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Jordan</st1:country-region></st1:place><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">’s
spine.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I was one of those who didn’t
fit in anywhere. I refused to accept the fact that this world has become
incompatible to us. I tried very hard to prove guys like you wrong. I wanted to
prove that this world is as much ours as it is yours. And in trying to do so,
somewhere I started becoming one of you. I drifted away from my people,
travelled the world, made new friends and embraced the new world I was seeing
and feeling with open arms. I became a wanderer and in the end I forgot what I
was searching for. In my attempt to study and understand and imbibe different
cultures of the world, I slowly forgot mine; until I came back here to scale
the mountain that had cradled my childhood!” Hania’s reminiscence filled <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Jordan</st1:country-region></st1:place>
with awe and intrigue. “So you came here and never went back?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Well, I almost did. I got
through the Death Gorge. It took me 5 days. There was very little life left
when I got to Hullu point. There I saw a mule. A lonely mule! It was freezing,
hungry and dying. It had been abandoned by a hiking group as it was wounded and
couldn’t carry them anymore. We were company to each other for the next 2 days.
I nursed its wounds and fed her my food and left with a promise to come back. I
returned with food and medicines after 3 days. She kept her promise and held
her life for me. She died the next day. I never went back. Did you know every
year nearly 10-15 mules are abandoned here to die in the cold. Now they have a
friend to take care of them. They don’t deserve to die because of you people!”
There were flames of anger and pain in Hania’s eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“So it is you who makes these
little dresses for these animals and birds! Very sweet indeed.” <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Jordan</st1:country-region></st1:place>
murmured. He looked at Hania’s little abode. “You seem pretty well stocked up,
eh?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Well, I still visit your world
once in a while my friend. Go up to the town and eat your food and try your new
drinks, learn about the latest fashion trends, breathe your polluted air and
come back amused. I always wonder how much longer will nature accommodate
mankind! So I am trying to compensate for the sins you guys commit by helping
these creatures as much as I can. Trust me, they are the best companions you
can ever get.” <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Jordan</st1:country-region></st1:place>
smiled from his heart for the first time as a bird came and sat on Hania’s
shoulder. Life was teaching <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Jordan</st1:country-region></st1:place>
an important lesson through Hania.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Well.. you must get going now,
my friend! Someone must be desperately waiting for you!” Hania patted <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Jordan</st1:country-region></st1:place>’s
shoulder in a fatherly affection.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“What do you mean desperately
waiting?” <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Jordan</st1:country-region></st1:place>
was a little surprised.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“You will find out my friend.
Well.. let me tell you a short cut to get to the top. You see that bush right
there and a small alley behind it. Go through that, you will have to pass a
tunnel and then cut through a sharp canyon turn and it will take you back to
the trail and you will be in Hopi point in an hour. Now get going before the
snow storm gets worse! It was nice seeing you, my boy!” Hania gave <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Jordan</st1:country-region></st1:place>
a huge bear hug.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Jordan</span></st1:country-region></st1:place><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">’s mind was completely
preoccupied during his mechanical trail back to the top of the canyon. Hania’s
visage and his electric voice captivated and mystified him profoundly. He
didn’t even realize that he was at Hopi point and all his friends were running
towards him. Radhika jumped upon him and hugged him tightly as if she was never
going to let him go. There were tears in his eyes. Hania’s words flashed
through <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Jordan</st1:country-region></st1:place>’s
mind once again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<b><u><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Hopi Point – Hermit’s Rest:<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">There was no doubt it was one
hell of an adventure. But they were sad it was coming to an end. <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Jordan</st1:country-region></st1:place>
was calming his senses and resting his sore legs at Hermit’s rest as he
recounted his adventures to Steven and Ming. He was scared to mention about
Hania though. Meanwhile Radhika was looking for keepsakes in the gift shop.
Soon she came back with a bag full of goodies and started flaunting them off.
“Here take a look at this bird here. This is vintage Hopi art work! Isn’t it
cute?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“What is it in its wings?” Ming
was curious. Radhika was worked up. “Oh.. this is the hand made replica of the
famous fashion bird that has been spotted occasionally in the canyon. How it
gets its dress has been an unsolved mystery! There are several stories around
it. You see that lady over there. She knows a few such stories if you are
interested!” The lady looked real spooky! Ming said he would rather pass. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Radhika turned her attention to
Jordan who was already looking bewildered. “Hey.. check out this new book I
got. I am sure you would love reading this one. It is about the Death Gorge.
You must have been somewhere close to this for sure, right. Am so glad you
didn’t find it. Otherwise they might have had to revise this book again to
accommodate you as well!” She gave him a naughty wink and everyone burst out
into laughter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Jordan</span></st1:country-region></st1:place><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> grabbed the book from here hand.
“Oh.. wow.. Sounds fascinating! what is it about?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Well, it is an exclusive account
about the hitherto never ventured and suicidal stretch from Skeleton Point
through the Death Gorge up to the safety zone near the Hullu Point. Apparently
10 people have ventured into this death trap and none of them ever returned.”
Radhika rolled her eyes in fear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">This was getting very interesting
for <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Jordan</st1:country-region></st1:place>
now. “Are you sure none of them returned?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Well, they say that they found
the bodies of 9 of them down in the Canyon; 4 of whom washed up on the shores
the <st1:place w:st="on">Colorado River</st1:place>. Nothing was ever found
about the tenth guy. Here take a look at his picture here. The guy went to
Harvard, can you believe that! Seems like a damn interesting fellow! He was a
scholar and a world traveler apparently!” Radhika was going on and on while Jordan’s
eyes were fixated on the picture of Hania. Yes, it was him. Only he was much
younger!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Then, at that moment, he saw
something written at the bottom of the picture that brought his heartbeat to a
stand still and drove a shiver through his spine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<b><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“PICTURE TAKEN AT THE GRADUATION
CEREMONY OF <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">HARVARD</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype w:st="on">UNIVERSITY</st1:placetype></st1:place> – CLASS OF 1825!”<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<b><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<b><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<b><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-align: left;"> </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif"; text-align: justify;"> </span><b style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; text-align: left;"><i><span style="color: #e69138;">- A SHORT STORY BY RAJ</span></i></b></div>
</div>
Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648473755487131834.post-17880152539514446652016-03-22T08:22:00.000-07:002016-03-22T08:22:22.361-07:00TO DEATH AND AFTER<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<b><u><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Kaibab Trail - South Rim, <st1:place w:st="on">Grand Canyon</st1:place>:<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Nature has its own unique and
unfussy way of imposing itself on human beings. It didn’t take too long for
Ming, Steven and Radhika to understand that. In a span of 6 hours, they had
encountered almost everything at the <st1:place w:st="on">Grand Canyon</st1:place>,
which they had fondly nicknamed as “The Greatest Hole on the Earth”. Thunderous
rainstorms and lightning had left them stranded and shell shocked for hours in
the middle of a treacherously strenuous trail that had slowly started showing
its chameleon-esque nature. They already had to deal with loose footing and
rock fall that came unannounced while an encounter with wild life was always a
scare even though they had met only the friendliest of creatures so far. A
heavy snow fall shut them off completely as the rain had started to thicken and
its successor, ice was more incisive and cruel. They had overstayed their
welcome at the trail and hunger and dehydration slowly set in as they ran out
of all supplies. But clearly nature was not done with them as it landed its
final and most lethal blow. Jordan, the fourth and most experienced hiker of
the group was missing for the past 3 hours.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Radhika was fuming. “He should
have come by now. He said he will meet us at the Hullu point. The idiot always
does something crazy like this. What was the need for that maniac to explore
that new route all alone? God knows where the hell he is now!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Relax Radz. Trust the man. He is
a pro but remember he is a psycho as well. It is one deadly combination. He
will make it all right. I am sure he is going to sneak up on us from somewhere
and freak you out totally!” Steven was still optimistic about his best buddy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Ming had other things in his
mind. “Yeah.. I hope so too. The dude is totally nuts but he is a tough nut.
But hey.. we can’t stay here for long. We will starve ourselves to death if the
cold doesn’t kill us before that. I say we head up to the Hopi point and wait
for him up there.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Yeah, let’s do that. Guess I
could do with some hot chocolate at Hermit’s rest. “Radhika’s voice was
trembling behind the brave smile she put up. She felt something strange inside
she couldn’t understand or explain! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<b><u><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Unknown Location – near Death
Gorge, <st1:place w:st="on">Grand Canyon</st1:place>:<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Jordan</span></st1:country-region></st1:place><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> was a daredevil. His passion in
life was to do things most people would only dream about. His life was one big
adventure and he had loved every bit of it. Until now!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Nature was capable of breaking
even the hardest of men and today it looked like it might succeed in overwhelming
the gritty <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Jordan</st1:place></st1:country-region>.
He was clearly cheated by this perfidious new path that had taken him far away
from the trail and into the canyon which was transferring its chill through his
spine. It was beginning to break him down!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He was breathing heavily, clasping
his hands together, partly to warm himself and partly in a small prayer to God.
He was completely lost! At that moment he saw a strange thing. He saw a bird
that flew past his ears. But there was something strange about it. It was
wearing a dress. He rubbed his eyes again to make sure he was not hallucinating
due to dehydration. But there it was. It had 2 small flaps covering its wings
which looked like wrist bands. And it had something in its legs that looked
like tiny little socks. Was his mind imagining things? A strange feeling of
fear and death started to engulf him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Lost your way perhaps?” He was
petrified by the suddenness and shrillness of the voice that came from behind
him. It was a man. A man in this God forsaken place! That could not be true he
thought. The figure that stood in front of him was tall, strong and slightly
inhuman. It was a man alright. A man who seemed to have borne the brunt of both
nature and life! A man who looked strong and wise from age and experience! He
had a look in his eyes that intimidated <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Jordan</st1:country-region></st1:place>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“What brings you here, my friend?
I am afraid you should not be here!” The man’s voice was hoarse and <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Jordan</st1:country-region></st1:place>
despised its tone which had a hint of calm arrogance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“I know who you are. You belong
to one of those ancient tribes, aren’t you? The Havasu or Huala something!” <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Jordan</st1:country-region></st1:place>
tried to gather himself as his mind was scrambling to assimilate all that he
was seeing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The man stroked his long beard
and looked impressed. “I am happy somebody still knows about us. My name is
Hania and you are almost right. I descend from the Havasupai clan.” He extended
his hand and <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Jordan</st1:country-region></st1:place>
shook it very skeptically. An Incredible surge of warmth flowed from Hania’s
body through <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Jordan</st1:country-region></st1:place>
and he felt quite rejuvenated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Oh yeah.. you guys.. I have read
about you. You have been calling the <st1:place w:st="on">Grand Canyon</st1:place>
your home, isn’t it? Still a few of you left, trying to survive in a world that
has become incompatible to you! Well, guess what, you don’t control this place
no more, fella!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Hania gave him a profound smile.
“Nobody can control nature, my friend. And you, right now, would know that more
than anybody. Lost, tired, hungry and angry amidst ruthless mountains and a
devastating cold that can rip your soul out and freeze it to death; nowhere to
run, nowhere to hide, nothing to embrace, no one to hold on to! Tell me, who is
in control, my man?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Clearly <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Jordan</st1:country-region></st1:place> was getting irritated now.
“Oh come on! I have been hiking for 10 years now. This is just a strenuous
hike, not an impossible one. Stop scaring me, will ya?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Hania was his composed self. “Of
course. It is neither a deadly hike nor or impossible one. But only as long as
you are in the trail! You are way off it my friend. Probably drifted off around
the skeleton point! You have no idea where you are. I call it the “Near Death
Gorge!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“Hmm… Never heard of it dude.
What do others call it?” <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Jordan</st1:country-region></st1:place>
sneered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Hania’s response was icy cold.
“The Death Gorge!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Jordan had a smirk on his face.
“Well.. tell you what! You are doing a pretty decent job of scaring the hell
out of me. Now what is it that is so deadly about this passage?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">“I am just telling you the truth
my friend. In the 800 years of history that has been recorded, 10 people have
wandered into this place losing their way on the trail, and attempted to get
back to the top through this narrow pass. Only one of them survived!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">There was something about Hania
that Jordan could not understand. “Whoa… That is something. Must be a pretty
famous guy! First man in 800 years and all. Who is he?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Hania looked out into the canyon
and took a deep breath. “He is standing right in front of you, my friend. And
no, he is not famous. Nobody knows about him. Never knew!” For the first time,
a shiver went down <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">Jordan</st1:country-region></st1:place>’s
spine. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms";"><span style="color: #e69138;"><b><i> TO BE CONCLUDED (NEXT WEEK)….</i></b></span></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms";"><span style="color: #e69138;"><b><i> </i></b></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<br />
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; orphans: auto; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 1; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms";"><span style="color: #e69138;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></span></div>
</div>
Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648473755487131834.post-52340286565320477102016-02-19T17:19:00.000-08:002016-02-19T17:19:24.288-08:00CRUZING WITH TRUMP<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">The other day I
met up with our good old friend, Mr.C'mon man. He was a little miffed with the
fact that I had featured Cheeky Chuck and ignored him for a while. It took a
while to convince him that there was nothing like that and asked him if he had
any funny tales to tell. He immediately filled me in with a hilarious encounter with a reporter who had recently stumped him with a tough question about the flamboyant (yeah right...) Republican Presidential Candidates. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Who are they you ask? Who else I ask! Ted Cruz and Donald Trump! The top cartoons right now in American politics (among several others if I may add). </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">So do you think you can solve Mr. C'mon man's conundrum?</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSP1bPM6VvPrU2byRtlyX_bml6gn0_Qe0Ffv6A_5s_14E2rSUl4u9zzPeop_umD9H7P4jsupASaGZhhZhn2Vo08_jzFleU5FfZsjI7TS0K-ES79ESXrT_qDalYtM7eFYAHMnI9Xp_TLVM/s1600/cool-cartoon-9688440.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSP1bPM6VvPrU2byRtlyX_bml6gn0_Qe0Ffv6A_5s_14E2rSUl4u9zzPeop_umD9H7P4jsupASaGZhhZhn2Vo08_jzFleU5FfZsjI7TS0K-ES79ESXrT_qDalYtM7eFYAHMnI9Xp_TLVM/s640/cool-cartoon-9688440.png" width="820" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br /></div>
Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648473755487131834.post-59186424164658254072016-01-30T14:49:00.000-08:002016-01-30T14:49:37.388-08:00ZOMBIECALYPSE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">These
days, ghosts and zombies are the most popular creatures around and they seem to
be having a lot of fun at the expense of human beings in television and who
knows may be in real life too (for all those believers out there). Piqued by
this trend, one celebrity took it upon himself to turn the tables on zombies.
That man is none other than Donald Trump, who is possibly one of the greatest
(pun highly intended) Presidential candidates in the history of America. He devised
a novel idea wherein a group of people will have to work together and in the
process play some games with a tied up zombie. I wonder why he has the urge to
deal with another zombie. I thought he was already having fun with Jeb Bush.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The
creative team has designed a great concept to bring this idea to fruition. They
did extensive research to come up with an exciting list of celebrities to join
Mr.Trump in this endeavor. They have set up a huge room with several artifacts
and props. This is the room where all the celebrities have been locked up for
this fun act. On one corner of the room, a blood thirsty zombie is chained to
the wall. Now all these distinct personalities have to find a way to coexist
and work together and escape from the room. Every 10 minutes, the chain will be
loosened a little and the zombie will be one step closer to its prey. The group
has 60 minutes before they are toast. They must solve a series of puzzles and
find clues around the room that will ultimately lead them to the key to exit
the room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcxvJuqH9VO3JVcc5T6J8OfoDf4onUAzl5PLIebt6Nj2XfAS1iVA0C-_XbkbUfxawuVtJfRjj7L2uz-WkpCCeF1kgyM13P9P1k8AupYSYdYqtv9YH0CYqBYSNquhyphenhyphenKlnSQzWiL6a-tTGs/s1600/Zombie_Trump.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcxvJuqH9VO3JVcc5T6J8OfoDf4onUAzl5PLIebt6Nj2XfAS1iVA0C-_XbkbUfxawuVtJfRjj7L2uz-WkpCCeF1kgyM13P9P1k8AupYSYdYqtv9YH0CYqBYSNquhyphenhyphenKlnSQzWiL6a-tTGs/s1600/Zombie_Trump.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Now
without further ado, let me reveal to you that list of crack pots who are
locked together in that room. Of course there is the incomparable Mr.Trump. He
is joined by his Presidential rival Hillary Clinton, Korean numero uno Kim
Jong-un, Mr. James Bond, “Mocking Jay” Jennifer Lawrence and the one and only
Thalaivar Rajinikanth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Let us
get right into the action where the participants are engaged in a heated debate
as to what the plan of action should be. Well, except for Rajinikanth who is
sitting quietly in a corner and enjoying a cigar. Kim Jon-Un tries to approach
him to make an alliance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>KJU:</u></b> Hello
sir, I am not sure who you are but you seem very familiar. I will have a tough
time understanding these idiots. I think we should team up. Do you know
English?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Rajni:</u></b> Kanna…
I can talk English, I can walk English, I can laugh English!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Clinton:</u></b>
Who is this guy?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u><br /></u></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Trump:</u></b>
Is he Mexican?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>KJU:</u></b>
Don’t know. But he is very famous in Japan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Bond:</u></b>
Are you guys kidding me? He is Rajini freaking Kanth. He can do things even I
can’t do.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Bond
regrets making the statement instantly as the ladies in the room immediately
turn their attention to Rajini who blushes in his trademark style. But Jennifer
realizes that they have a job to do, so she tries to bring the discussion back
on track. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Jen:</u></b>
Well guys, I have quite a bit of experience in games like this. So here is my 2
cents. We should work as a team and never turn on each other. That is exactly
what the zombie wants. We should be very quick and resourceful as we don’t have
much time. We have already wasted quite a bit trying to know each other.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">They
hear the first gong. The zombie’s first chain is released. It starts to stir.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Trump:</u></b>
Well, look here lady, whoever you are. I think you didn’t get the memo. I am the
one who always runs the show. And it is a real shame that you only have 2 cents
to offer. I, on the other hand, have billions of dollars to waste.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Clinton:</u></b>
You are already doing that by running for President.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Trump:</u></b> You
will have to eat your words very soon. The first thing I will do after I become
President is deport this Zombie.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Rajini:</u></b>
You don’t have to do that. If you go and talk to that zombie for 10 minutes, I
am sure it will leave the country. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Everybody
lets out a chuckle as they wait for Rajini to say something else but he goes
back to his cigar. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Clinton:</u></b>
I certainly don’t agree with this. We must find a way to give this zombie a
legal path to citizenship.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Bond:</u></b>
You are “Hillary”ous.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Donald
Trump:</u></b> Come on, She is ugly!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Hillary
rushes to slap Trump but is pacified by Jennifer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Another
gong sounds and the zombie’s chain is loosened a little more. It starts to move
forward.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Trump
looks to Kim Jon-Un to get some support for his deportation proposal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>KJU:</u></b>
Between you becoming President and this zombie eating my brains, I would
certainly prefer the latter. At least I get the satisfaction of seeing the
zombie feasting on all of you idiots, especially you. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Bond:</u></b> Guys,
we are losing focus. So,Katiniss Everdeen… what do you think we should all do?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Trump:</u></b>
She is ugly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Bond:</u></b>
Are you blind?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Clinton:</u></b>
He is Trump.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Jennifer
gives him the finger.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Clinton:</u></b>
We need to come up with a detailed plan to neutralize this zombie. Let us
discuss some ideas.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Bond:</u></b>
Well, there is no time for that. The zombie already has a detailed plan of
eating your brains and burping your eye balls out in the next hour. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">They
hear the third gong go. The zombie claws its way a little further.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Jen:</u></b> Enough
of talk, guys. Let us look around the room. We should see our first clue
somewhere. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>KJU:</u></b> Got
it, got it. I found a note on the trash can at the corner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">He hands
it over to Jennifer who reads it out loud.</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“You can find your next clue perched on an
item whose name sounds like the capital of Libya.”</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Jen:</u></b>
Does anyone know the capital of Libya? Make it quick guys.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Trump:</u></b>
Is it in Mexico?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Clinton:</u></b>
Oh God…. What is with you and Mexico! I think it is Benghazi.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Jen:</u></b> We
are looking for the capital, not the only city you know. How about you James?
You must have had some adventure in Libya.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Bond:</u></b> We
are doing our next film there. But I haven’t read the script yet. God damn it!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>KJU:</u></b>
Come on Trump and Hillary. One of you should know the answer. Didn’t you guys
bomb that place?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Trump:</u></b>
No, but I intend to. After I am done with Pyongyang!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Jen:</u></b> You
are all good for nothing. Let us apply reverse psychology here. What all do we
have in the room? A couch, two chairs, a telephone, a radio, a TV, a safe, a
tripod stand and a camera! I got it. It is Tripoli.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The
fourth gong echoes across the room. The zombie has a smile on its face now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Bond
rushes to the tripod stand and presses on the camera perched on top of it. It
opens up and there is a small piece of paper inside it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Bond:</u></b>
Well done Jen. But we are running out of time. We must act fast. Now let us see
what our next clue is. “Solve the
cross-word puzzle in the newspaper. 14 across is your next clue.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="SV" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: SV;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="SV" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: SV;"><b><u>Jen:</u></b> Oh God. We are doomed. </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">You guys can’t even solve one
clue. How can I expect you to solve an entire cross-word puzzle?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Rajini:
Ha ha… chellam... Why fear when Rajini is here! this is jujubi for me. Here...
take it!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Everyone
looks at him shell shocked as a mesmerized Jen takes the newspaper from Rajini
who lights up another cigar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Jen:</u></b> You
are a genius. Okay… what is the clue in 14 across! It says “NEWS”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Bond:</u></b>
Well, it has to be related to either the radio or the TV.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">KJU
rushes to switch on the radio. They hear nothing but the fifth gong. The zombie
is halfway across the room now and looks to have picked a favorite. Hillary
switches on the television.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">They see
a documentary about the World War II playing on TV.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Clinton:</u></b>
What the hell is that supposed to mean?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>KJU:</u></b> Can
we watch it? I don’t really know much about World War II.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Trump:</u></b>
Sure. You can see what your fate will be if you ever go to war against us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>KJU:</u></b> I
can nuke your ass off any time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Bond:</u></b>
Shut up you clowns. Let us think what does this mean? The clue must be in the
video.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Jen:</u></b>
Look at this. I found this note under the TV stand. It says: “This is your last
clue. What is playing on the TV will lead you to the key that will unlock the
front door of this room. Good luck to you and bon appetit to the zombie.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Trump:</u></b>
Did you look under the TV thoroughly? May be the key is there as well!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Clinton:</u></b>
Why don’t you check your pocket? Even a rabbit will have more IQ than you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>KJU:</u></b> Let
us think where can we find a key? Must be somewhere obvious. Aha… Got it! It
should be inside that safe.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Bond:</u></b>
Brilliant. Now all we need is the combination. And it is somehow connected to World
War II.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Jen:</u></b> It
could be the year the war started. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Clinton:</u></b>
Or the year it ended!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>KJU:</u></b>
Good job. Does anyone know these dates? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Clinton:</u></b>
I know it started in 1939. I think it lasted for 4 or 5 years.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Bond:</u></b>
Yes, it ended in 1945.I remember that from the script. Let us go and try both.
One should work.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Jen:</u></b>
Yes, and let us get the hell out of here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">At that
very moment, they hear the final gong. The zombie is fully free and is standing
near the safe with a wide grin on its face and a twinkle in its eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Jen:</u></b> Oh
God. We are doomed. Bond, do something. You always find a way out of these
impossible situations. If you get me out of this, maybe we can do dinner
tonight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Bond:</u></b> I
wish. But do you really believe all that you see in my movies?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">There is
complete panic in the room as the zombie is inches away from its favorite prey
and no prizes for guessing that: Mr. Trump. I think it likes his hair.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Suddenly
they hear a loud thud and the door is broken into half. Rick and Daryl from
“The Walking dead” enter the room. Daryl puts an arrow through the zombie’s
skull while Rick blows its brain with a bullet. They shake hands with
Rajinikanth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Rajini:</u></b>
Kanna, I could have finished this game in 5 minutes. But I wanted to have some
fun and see what you guys do. But I was pretty sure you will mess it up. So I
had my Plan B. Anyways, I had a great time. And if you want to have some more
fun, you can tie Mr.Trump up and play this game once again. Merry Christmas
folks!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Rajini
walks out with Rick and Daryl as the others look at each other in bewilderment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648473755487131834.post-50396818520383430682016-01-22T08:47:00.000-08:002016-02-19T17:19:40.700-08:00ODDS ARE EVEN<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>With the new ODD-EVEN rule now implemented in Delhi, people have been panicking and scrambling to find ways to continue driving freely everywhere which even includes a whooping 0.1 km drive to their neighbors' houses. But our very own Smarty pants, Mr. Cheeky Chuck has cracked the Kejriwal code and come up with an idea of driving to the office everyday without being fined and is all set to make his modest contribution towards keeping Delhi's pollution levels intact.</b><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxavEMF29zgoVu_UdXJGhI-qqkDTNTIyaJaOLf6KkQ2OFAK16Ax3RLMpdweuUybJClDm9-5BoaMfRJ0BH1oY605ZiQnztfeeWhmu1jGnEtQTApwjWUPuDsi__nM10t5YplGtZtsGKVXco/s1600/cool-cartoon-9595848.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="515" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxavEMF29zgoVu_UdXJGhI-qqkDTNTIyaJaOLf6KkQ2OFAK16Ax3RLMpdweuUybJClDm9-5BoaMfRJ0BH1oY605ZiQnztfeeWhmu1jGnEtQTApwjWUPuDsi__nM10t5YplGtZtsGKVXco/s640/cool-cartoon-9595848.png" width="820" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<i><b><span style="color: white;">A CARTOON BY RAJ.</span></b></i></div>
Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648473755487131834.post-37166275920088709022016-01-09T21:55:00.003-08:002016-01-09T21:55:43.380-08:00THE DRIED BRUSH<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">He had been standing there
staring at that painting for more than half an hour now. There was something in
it that kindled his intrigue. He couldn’t take his eyes off it. No! He couldn’t
take his mind off it. It consumed him. The strokes weren’t firm at places highlighting
the imperfections; not the painting’s but of the man in it. That made the
painting vulnerable yet absolute. The way the man was looking at a stray dog in
the painting seemed to convey so many thoughts and emotions that he lost his
way inside. Those eyes conveyed so much yet revealed so little! At that moment,
his thoughts raced back to a painting that turned his life upside down. A
painting that broke him! No! A painting that liberated him!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">She had never seen anybody so transfixed in front of a painting. She was happy at the thought that someone was so much
into her painting but at the same time perplexed and anxious as to what was
going through his mind. All day she had felt disappointed that her best work
had gone largely unappreciated, even worse unnoticed, and then here was a man
who seemed to be having a long conversation with it. Good or bad… she wanted to
be a part of it. “Hello Sir… You seem to be fascinated by this painting. My
name is Anna. I drew it and it is one of my personal favorites. I would be glad
to help you with any questions you may have about this painting.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">He looked at her befuddled.
“There are really no questions to ask.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">His voice was still and she
could not sense any emotional undercurrent. “Oh... very well. So are you interested in
purchasing it?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“I am not that kind.” His
answer took her by surprise and she found his tone exceedingly irritating. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“What kind are you? The one who
neither has admiration or appreciation for a good painting nor respect for an
artist?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">He smiled at her. “Well… if
that was the case, I would have bought your painting already!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">His reply stung like truth. He
was like the inner voice she had always had. How can you fix a price tag on
something that is invaluable? How can you sell something that cannot and should
not be sold? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“He is quite a paradox, isn’t
he? And one hell of a puzzle! So dubiously deceptive yet subtly provocative!”
Her thoughts were broken by his shrill voice again that echoed against the
walls. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“How is that so? Do tell.” She
was intrigued by his intellect and wanted to just listen. Could he see more in
the painting than she had when she brought it to life? She could not digest the
idea that this man could probably know and feel the picture more than her.
Doesn’t that make the painting his? She was lost in a sea of thought when she
heard his shrill voice echo again. This time through her mind and slowly
into her heart!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“The man’s eyes are incisive
but tender. His heart holds a great grief but his mind rises above it. He is a
burdened man who has seen lot of pain and endured a deep loss but he knows his
misery is far from over. His death would neither be quick nor easy. His body
can withstand more agony but his soul has given up. He is a wise man yet has
had his share of foolish acts. He is a good man now but has not been one
always. His conscience writhes in remorse for a dark act that he can neither
forget nor live with. But still in one dark corner deep inside, he relishes it
albeit for a short while until guilt takes over and he despises himself again.
He looks at the world with abandon. Age and the wisdom that comes along with it
have sharpened his intellect and softened his soul. His hatred is gone and he
loathes no one no more. Now he has only sympathy as he sits there watching
people go past him looking so happy yet feeling so miserable inside. He smiles
at himself, scorns his past, ponders his future and awaits his end. And all
these moods have blended in so perfectly in this master piece of yours.” He
spoke with so much happiness and passion that only a true artist could feel
when he recognizes another’s work of genius. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">She listened in rapturous awe to
this stranger paint a picture so vivid yet so deep and mystifying about this
painting of hers. She couldn’t believe that someone could understand and
appreciate her painting as much or even better than her. Who is this man? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">He went on not once taking his
eye off the painting. “How fertile can one’s imagination be? To create a face
with so much emotion! Or, perhaps, this is not a figment of your imagination
but a real person… someone whom you have seen and observed several times… a
mysterious stranger who kindled your curiosity so much that you couldn’t stop
thinking what was beneath those deceptive eyes and opaque face… Is he happy? Is
he sad? Is he a beggar who just sits on the street in hope of alms for his next
meal or is he a philosopher who just loves watching people? Well... you just can’t know. So you capture
him with your brush and present that intrigue in his eyes to the world.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A stunned silence ensued. After
making her fly among the clouds with his profuse flattery he had brought her
crashing to the ground by suggesting that it had nothing to do with her
imagination. That made her furious. “So how do you think the conception of this
painting originally happened? A fiction of my imagination or a blatant replica
of an unsuspecting stranger’s visage?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">He could sense the
condescension in her tone. “I would say that you have seen this man. And he has
disturbed you deeply!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“How could you possibly say
that? How would you know?” She was astonished by his confidence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">He stroked his beard gingerly. “The
dog! There is something different about its expression. You have added emotion
to its eyes. As if it is communicating with the man. Its facial strokes are
much more defined and firm as opposed to the fragile strokes that have defined
the man’s features. That shows disconnect between the real and the virtual!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">She sat down dejected. But then
how could she have known that what she was about to hear next would forever
change her life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The man went on with his
mesmerizing voice. “But a beautiful disconnect. Which is what makes this
painting so unique! It transcends boundaries and renders a meaning so surreal
that makes the painting a well that will never dry up. You can infer infinite
meaning from the man’s eyes and every one will see it differently every time
she looks at it. Look here. I am very sorry if I managed to offend you. I
didn’t mean to belittle your work by any means. The fact that you painted a man
you had observed doesn’t in anyway reduce the greatness of your work. In fact
it makes it even more magnificent. You can imagine just about anything in your
canvas of dreams. But to paint something that is so real is a gift. And trust
me… the most important thing is not for others to realize the greatness of your
work. It’s you who should realize that. Nothing else matters. Let me tell you a
story. My story!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My father was a sculptor. A
masterful craftsman! Each and every one of his creations adorn some of the the
best temples in and around here. He was a very pious and devout man. So was my
mother. I grew up amidst sculptures and in temples. There was God all around
me. But was he really? I couldn’t tell. My father believed so. My mother told
me so. There was a huge temple in front of our house. Almost all its sculptures
were my father’s handiwork. I used to sit hours in front of a golden sculpture which everyone worshipped with hands folded. I recited slokas with my eyes
fixated on this golden sculpture which returned my curious glances with a never
changing cold stare. There was something about that gaze that I could not
understand. I was not able to understand or appreciate God in the same way
everyone else around me did so easily and so faithfully. I felt something was
wrong with me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">I did many things during my childhood.
Things that I was told to! But only one thing satiated my senses. Drawing
anything that came in front of my eyes or to my mind! I grew up to be a
painter. My father was a proud man. He said art was in our blood and it was
God’s gift. I immersed my days and nights into drawing my mind and my thoughts.
I painted them with my heart. Feelings transformed into colors. Every artist
waits for his best work to take fruition. I was no exception. Every time I took
the brush, a fire raged in my heart to outbest my previous work. Everybody
seeks perfection. Nobody attains it. But I was tireless in my quest. I created
some of my life’s best works and I had almost transcended into a different
world. A world of my dreams brought to life on the canvas. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">My father brought me back to
reality. He came to me with a very unique request. He wanted me to paint that
golden sculpture. He felt it was his master piece and wanted me to recreate it.
He had never asked me anything before and I could see how much this meant to him.
Unfortunately the sculpture didn’t mean anything to me. It haunted me and I had
always wanted to run away from it as far as I could. But my father meant the
world to me. I couldn’t say no to him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I halfheartedly took it up. It
was childhood all over again. I would sit for hours staring at that sculpture
trying to feel it. You have to understand something completely before you can
paint it on canvass. But those eyes… that silent yet deep gaze… they consumed
me. That is the one thing I was never able to understand. I painted for a year.
Yes. One full year! When I finally looked at my painting… I saw the sculpture.
But there was something different. The cold stare was replaced by a gentle
look. A vulnerable, earthly, human look! It was the same God… but the
difference was that he was talking to me.
I understood the meaning of God for the first time: Not in the way I was
told… not in the way I had read… but in the way I had always wanted to… in the
way I had always felt. Finally I had a faith that was my own! I locked myself up in my room and stared at
this painting for hours together. My eyes finally met with God’s and they
talked… for hours… for days! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">This painting… which I took up
so reluctantly… which I had no intention of completing… which I never
understood while I was drawing it… it changed my life. It was my masterpiece.
It was my revelation. It was my salvation. I was so content… so blissful… so
complete… I realized I could never paint anything better. My brush’s journey
was fulfilled and so was my tryst with it. I never painted again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">It doesn’t matter how your
painting comes to life. What it means to you is more important to what it means
to the world. Truth is not absolute. It never is. It is personal. It may mean
the world to me but yet nothing to you. That painting liberated me. This
painting defines you. Let it guide you!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">He reached for his pocket and
took out a brush. It was worn out and had dried paint in its bristles. He gave
it to her and smiled. No words were spoken. She knew what it meant. He walked
away a happy man. She walked away a proud woman with a renewed purpose!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"> </span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; text-align: left;"><i><span style="color: #e69138;">- A SHORT STORY BY RAJ</span></i></b></div>
</div>
Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648473755487131834.post-42238004354545832732015-12-31T17:27:00.000-08:002016-01-03T19:03:11.412-08:00BEING A FATHER<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Being
a parent is one of the best if not the best feeling in this world and I am
sure a lot of you would be nodding your heads right now. For others who are basking in their bachelorhood
days or the honeymoon phase, enjoy it to the fullest before you get ready for
another adventure. Before you start speculating, let me clear the air. This piece
is not going to be a comparison of these phases of life. It is not a debate as
to whether one should marry or not, have kids early or travel the world before
you decide to. Anyways, I hope you won’t be making such important life
decisions after reading my blog.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">This
is a reflection of some of my magical experiences of being a brand new father. Very
recently, the first love of my life gave birth to my second love. I had not
really put much thought into what it takes to be a father. I knew I could never
be fully ready, but I thought I would do just fine. (Well the verdict is not
out on that yet, by the way). But the feeling had not really sunk in. I was
ecstatic of course, but I didn’t know what to expect. But when it happened,
something inside me changed. When the nurse placed Maya in my arms for the
first time and I looked at her as she was trying to open her eyes to look at
the world, I knew I was ready. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">I had
never held a baby before. Well, maybe once or twice but not for more than a few
minutes. But holding her came naturally. Putting her to sleep was challenging
but a lot of fun. Losing sleep in the middle of the night was not annoying. And
despite having little sleep, my wife and I always looked forward to being woken
up by her early in the morning. That is because the moment she opens her eyes
and looks at us, she will give us such a big smile that will brighten the
entire day for us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">And
oh… how can I forget? Diapers! That’s the good stuff. We can get into beat the
clock challenges on changing diapers now. And our little one is mighty naughty.
Here is something that will happen very frequently. I will see the yellow line
turn blue on her diaper. Aha…. She has peed. So I will decide to change her
diaper. She will wait for me to open and remove the diaper and then will spray
me just in time before I put on a new one, thus wetting everything in the
process. What a smart ass! Literally! And then she will give me her happy beaming
smile. Mission accomplished for her, I guess. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">We all had so many lovely little incidents with our cute prankster and
there is never a dull moment with her. Here is another incident from one fun evening
where I was alone with her. Normally we spend some quality time and have a lot
of fun together. This was one of those days when she decided to play Miss Crank
Pot. Here is the outline of my plan for the evening. My wife had just fed her
before going out. That would mean it would normally take at least an hour
(normally two) for her to get hungry again. I thought I would play with her for
a while and then put her to sleep. And if she got hungry, I thought I would
feed her a bottle. I know a lot of people grinning. You are right. When have
our plans ever worked? Especially when we have such a strong veto authority
around!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">As
soon as I put her on the bed, she started shifting uncomfortably. A gentle moan
soon turned into a moderate wail. I turned on the swinging toy hanging above. A
lion, sheep, duck and bear followed each other happily in a merry-go-round.
Miss Maya was not impressed. The wail persisted and slowly started turning into
a full blown cry. Not to worry. I got this. Or so I thought. It was time for
Plan B. I decided to try and put her to sleep. I took her in my arms and put
her over my shoulder. The scream stopped. I started pacing around the room.
After 10 minutes I decide to check if she has fallen asleep. Nope. She was
quietly staring at me. What else have you got? I decide to throw a lullaby into
the mix. Now you must consider the fact that I am person who hesitates to even
sing in the bathroom to put the situation in perspective. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">She
seems to give me a chance for a while as she patiently listens to a song. She
doesn’t cry but she is more awake now. I refrain from testing her patience any
further. Twenty minutes gone. My shoulder starts to hurt a little. I decide to put
her down and see if she wants to play. The minute I put her on the bed, she
starts yelling and screaming with full intensity. Okay, I still got this. May
be she is hungry. But she just drank her milk half an hour ago. Not the time to
be rational. So I try to feed her. She kicks and shrieks but still manages to
drink half the bottle. She doesn’t want to drink any more. But she is still
crying. I again put her on my shoulder and the yelling stops again. I like the
sentiment that she loves her daddy very much. But try explaining that to my
shoulder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">I
decide to walk around again with her in my arms. I swing her, rock her and try
all my tricks to see if she will sleep again. Another 15 minutes go by. Her
eyelids start batting and she seems to be ready to fall asleep when my phone
vibrates. Damn! She is wide awake again. The clock is set back to zero. I
decide to give it one more go and start pacing again. Another 20 minutes go by
and my shoulder is hurting real bad. And madam is still looking around and
trying to memorize the layout of her house. Now I start talking to her. I tell
her how much I love her, call her all the sweet names and explain to her that I
have tried all the options and that she should consider her father’s plight and
go to sleep. I hear many of you go: “Yeah right: As if she is going to
understand a single word!” I agree but the craziest things happen. The big lady
she is, Maya listened very patiently and exactly when I finished, she said: “huuuu”.
That is a yes in her language I assume. That is because she went to sleep in
the next 5 minutes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">I
cuddled and caressed her a little more and when she seemed to be in deep sleep,
I put her on the bed. Then something changed and I wanted more of her. So I
took her out of the bed, sat down and put her in my arms so that I can watch
her sleep. As I looked at her sleeping blissfully in my arms, I noticed the
corners of her lips held together oh so slightly. And as time passed by, the
invisible glue slowly gave in and the lips started to part slowly as if she is
smiling at you gently. I was so tempted to plant a kiss on her blood rose cheek
but I dreaded waking her up. I mulled on it for a while and in the end, greed took
over and I kissed her with trepidation. She stirred as I trembled in anxiety.
And then she gave me an even bigger smile with her eyes closed. My heart skipped
a beat. She then turned around as if she wanted me to kiss her on the other
cheek. What a sweet little bonus! And then she slept like a doll for the next
two hours.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">I will
stop for now before I go rambling on into eternity. I am sure I will have a
tale to tell every day. All these memories will be transfixed in my heart
drive, ready to be flashed back into my mind and played back through the lens
of my eyes. I am pretty sure I will be pressing the rewind button a lot. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.com46tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648473755487131834.post-57446354754613355332015-12-20T08:08:00.000-08:002015-12-22T06:43:22.680-08:00AMMA-TAKKAR<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">As you
all know, the whole of Tamil Nadu was devastated by severe floods accentuated
by the El Nino phenomenon which caused unprecedented damage to life. But the thousands
of millimeters of rainfall brought out kilometers of humanity as citizens came
out in hordes to help in any and every possible way. But politicians by and far
maintained their notorious reputation, making use of this situation for
publicity and political agendas. One such example was the sticker controversy
where some ruling party cadres were forcing NGOs and other relief workers to
paste stickers of the Chief Minister, Amma Jayalalitha on relief materials. This
is just one instance and it does not mean that other parties are devoid of such
non-sense. I am sure this act would be bested by an even more ridiculous one.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">Meanwhile,
after this went viral in social media and other platforms, there was a lot of public
outrage against this sticker controversy. That meant that party men could no
longer do this sycophantic gesture easily or openly. But they had already
printed out lots of stickers in advance and there was a lot of worry in the
camp as to how they could use up all of them. One man who had heard about
Cheeky Chuck (he obviously did not do his research) immediately suggested
hiring him as a consultant to provide them with a solution to this sticky(er)
issue.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhplPLJA4dDY-S-BQbI85LrQMGNA_DFyH6CjzE3JgXdDlklHYe5zpxzE7jk1_Pcm6aeAdy5-DXtt_JE4wrZH6yv9aZKucSkRKnLH9lzuHtnvM1lZDp681wXoGVNUI7Wrb-nYvwAk9at4es/s1600/amma+sticker+s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhplPLJA4dDY-S-BQbI85LrQMGNA_DFyH6CjzE3JgXdDlklHYe5zpxzE7jk1_Pcm6aeAdy5-DXtt_JE4wrZH6yv9aZKucSkRKnLH9lzuHtnvM1lZDp681wXoGVNUI7Wrb-nYvwAk9at4es/s400/amma+sticker+s.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">Cheeky
Chuck was on to it in a flash. He promised the Sticker team Chief that he would
produce results in 48 hours. He quickly got stock of some stickers and headed
out into the streets. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">A man
was coming out of a hotel with a packet of hot dosa, idli, sambar and some fresh
chutney. He had searched far and wide to find a hotel that was open and was
relieved that finally his prayer had been answered. He was in a hurry to take
the food back to his family when he was interrupted by our Cheeky Chuck.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Chuck:</u></b>
What do you have there, my friend?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Man:</u></b>
Oh… I have some hot food. Finally found a hotel that is open. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Chuck:</u></b>
Excellent. Let us see what size you have. Here you go. Go on. Put this sticker
on your food packet. And enjoy your meal with your amma and our amma!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Man:</u></b>
You idiot. This is not a flood relief food packet. I paid money for this, you dumbass!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Chuck:</u></b>
We also paid money to print this sticker. So you better put it on or else face
the consequences.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">No
points for guessing what happened next. Cheeky Chuck tried his charm on a few
more passers-by without much luck. By noon, he came back with his jaw slightly
rearranged. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Chuck’s
mind voice:</u></b> Damn it, I haven’t been able to dispose a single sticker yet today.
Come on Chuck… you are better than this. Ahaa…. I have got a brilliant idea. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">He
took out his cell phone and made a call to Mr. Suresh Narayanan, the newly
appointed Managing Director of Nestle India.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Chuck:</u></b>
Good morning Sir. This is Cheeky Chuck speaking. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Mr.Narayanan:</u></b>
I am sorry I don’t know you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Chuck:</u></b>
Not an issue. I know you very well. And I have an excellent business proposal
for you. You should start a Free Maggi Sticker campaign. We have a lot of Amma
stickers left from our Flood Relief effort. You see… we are very generous
folks. So we are willing to give it to you for a nominal price. This initiative will make your publicity
ratings soar. You can also donate some Maggi for Chennai flood relief as well
to show your humanitarian side and earn more brownie points.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', sans-serif;"><u><br /></u></b>
<b style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', sans-serif;"><u>Mr.Narayanan:</u></b><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> Mr.Chuck. As great as your idea
is, it has just been days since I took this job. I don’t want to enter record
books as the fastest fired Managing Director. And we have already had enough
publicity due to our “Lead in India” Maggi campaign.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">Chuck
was disappointed as he heard the phone click. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Chuck’s
mind voice:</u></b> So close. Never mind. Over to Plan B!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">He
quickly picked up his phone and called up the Sticker team chief.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Chief:</u></b>
Mr.Chuck. I didn’t expect to hear back from you so soon. Are you done </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">already</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Chuck:</u></b>
All in good time Sir. All in good time! I just had a light bulb moment. I am
thinking of approaching our national leaders in this regard. I just wanted to
let you know that I have plans of contacting Mr.Modi and Mr.Rahul Gandhi.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><u>Chief:</u></b> Good thought my friend. We have already
taken care of Mr.Modi. When he visited our Chief Minister, we loaded his
helicopter with lots of Amma stickers. I am sure he will be able to leverage
those for making designer kurtas for his foreign trips.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Chuck:</u></b>
Bravo Sir. Okay, let me touch base with Mr.Rahul Gandhi then.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">Rahul
Gandhi’s phone rang as he was in the middle of some deep reflection.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Chuck:</u></b>
Mr.Rahul, sorry to disturb you at this ungodly hour.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">Rahul
looked at his watch. It was 1 in the afternoon. “It is okay. I was just
finishing up a thought. By the way, who are you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Chuck:</u></b>
I am Cheeky Chuck. Big fan! I am calling you with a killer proposal to motivate
your party men and to rekindle the spirits of youngsters in your party.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Rahul:</u></b>
Go on. I am all ears. Although I have come up with a killer speech to do
exactly that!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Chuck:</u></b>
Trust me Sir, this is way better. We have a lot of stickers left from the Amma
flood relief exercise. We are willing to offer those to you. You can do some
Photoshop to replace Amma with your Maa, Soniaji and then you can make custom
shirts and hand flags for all your party members. That will be a terrific
gesture to pump up your folks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Rahul:</u></b>
Sounds great indeed Mr.Chuck. Sign me up for 1 lakh stickers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Chuck:</u></b>
Err… do you still have so many people in your party? Oops… none of my business. You will receive
the stickers in a week. Thank you for your business.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Chuck’s
mind voice:</u></b> 1 lakh sold. 1 more lakh to go! Now it is time for the master
stroke.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">Chuck
dialed a number and had a serious conversation for ten minutes. After he hung
up, he sprinted back home with a huge smile on his face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">In the
evening, as he is sipping tea lying on the couch, Chuck gets a call from the Sticker
team head who is bubbling with anger.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Chuck:</u></b>
Mr.Chief. You don’t seem to be in a very happy mood. And that too after I made
quick work of all those 2 lakh stickers! And what can I tell you about that
masterstroke. Pure genius!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Chief:</u></b>
Is it? Do enlighten me!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Chuck:</u></b>
Oh… I just called the Flood Control Commission Chairman. I noticed that he had
sent a letter to the Government asking if you guys had planned any
precautionary measures in case such floods were to hit again in the future. But
you guys had ignored that and never sent a response. You should not be so
irresponsible. So I corrected that for you. I called him and told that we have extensive plans if floods were to come again. I told him we have 1 lakh Amma
stickers ready and waiting for such an event. He did sound pretty impressed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Chief:</u></b>
Oh, he sure was. He just called me and gave me an earful. He said he will be
sending over his team to confiscate all the stickers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Chuck:</u></b>
Even better. I didn’t expect him to take delivery so soon. How much is he
paying? And how much is my commission?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><b><u>Chief:</u></b>
Well, he slapped a fine of Rs.10 lakhs on us for our negligence and arrogance.
As for your payment, if you just answer your door-bell, my men are waiting
outside to pay in full and some more. Oh btw… don’t worry about the hospital
charges. We will foot the bill as a token of our appreciation for your efforts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><b><u>P.S:</u></b> A kind request to all you guys. I am pretty sure I have incurred the wrath of all our political biggies who will by now be out for my blood. I can hear a few of you mumbling "As if they don't have anything better to do". But trust me: they really don't. ;) So please save me (and Cheeky Chuck) from their wrath. :P</i></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648473755487131834.post-22839745969538439542015-11-21T10:39:00.000-08:002015-11-21T12:32:28.762-08:00WEATHERING THE STORM<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">As I
sit gingerly on my wobbly chair which threatens to dismantle at any moment and
give me a crash course, I can see the winter’s first snow decorating the trees
in virgin white. The sky is soft grey whereas everything else down below is
sparkling white. Snow has covered every ounce of space and matter with its crispy
flakes except for one autumn tree which somehow is still managing to find a way
to showcase its bright orange autumn leaves. I intend to sit here for a while and
see how this battle unfolds.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">A note
of caution to anyone who is brave enough to read my ramblings: The beauty
outside is really distracting me and hence my writing might not be very
coherent. I hear some of you go: when has it ever been! Anyways… it has been
half an hour and the orange tree is still showing off. Wind has come to its aid
and is blowing away the snow that is still determined to conquer the last
remnant of color. I am still rooting for the tree as a dash of orange in this
ocean of white seems so invigorating. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2L4wZkoKEFop5sE7J_Ao4arBNy8I6M_sd5SldkDmUhRNPWXrOaAwExRoZIQQ6kzD5PuZZGXfId5PBLitj2IkdWMM8eCTV5cKII7vdQmEZmPH8RhKEpjbGOy-AJIvH7vIDZhAkkMqfEtY/s1600/Snow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2L4wZkoKEFop5sE7J_Ao4arBNy8I6M_sd5SldkDmUhRNPWXrOaAwExRoZIQQ6kzD5PuZZGXfId5PBLitj2IkdWMM8eCTV5cKII7vdQmEZmPH8RhKEpjbGOy-AJIvH7vIDZhAkkMqfEtY/s640/Snow.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">Time
seems to stand still as I witness beauty unfold itself in front of me in
breath-taking fashion. I start to reflect. Something I haven’t done in a while.
The last time I penned down my thoughts was more than two years ago. I wrote a
piece about memories and the importance of keeping them alive and sharing them.
I made a promise to let the ink in my pen go dry, only to turn around and break
that promise. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">The
snow storm that is unraveling outside my little window reminds me of life
itself. Our life is filled with a myriad moments we don’t find time to sit back
and relish. So many things happen in so little time and if we don’t take the
time to reflect, we lose those moments in the whirlwind of time. It is a shame because
a lot of those moments are priceless and we would love to cherish and
crystallize them in some form or the other. But we keep running all the time.
We don’t know the destination. We don’t know the path we ought to take. And in
the end, we don’t even know where we started. We just keep running in the
direction of the light, not looking back for once and not being able to see
forward in the dark. In reality, we are running so fast that we miss the
scenery on the way. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">This
mad run is reminiscent of my life for the last two years. There have been
several magical moments which have filled my heart with unimaginable joy. Life
has never been better. But then I have never had the time to relax, sit back
and run those memories from my mind through the lens of my eyes on to the
projector in my heart, push pause, rewind and play again. It may not seem like
a big thing but if you think about it, ten years down the line I might have a
hard time recounting these amazing memories. I don’t want them to fade away in
the continuum of time. I want to immortalize them through the camera of my mind
or the canvas of my pen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">I feel
like that lonely tree trying to battle the massive army of snow. It is trying
so hard not to lose its color, to stand out and not to be overshadowed like
everything else around. It is very similar to our struggles in life. We run
around doing things that we are supposed to do but ignore the things that we
like to do. We go through the motions in our day, brushing through the little
joys that it offers, never really freezing ourselves in the moment to enjoy them.
Our days are filled with so many beautiful little specs of joy, but we don’t allow
ourselves ample time to treasure them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">As I
see the lonely tree still proudly displaying its bright orange, I am filled
with a desire to ask more from life and give more to it and those around me. Stillness
can help clear the clouds inside our mind and see beauty and greatness in the
smallest of things. The snow will clear soon. The tree will still be there and
so will be the blood orange leaves. If only we are still there to admire it!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">On a
completely different note, I got to replace this damn chair. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648473755487131834.post-82811236485443537202013-05-19T20:13:00.000-07:002015-11-21T10:39:33.338-08:00FRESH AIR<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">You
may all be wondering what the hell happened to me and where did I disappear? No?
At least some of you, I hope! Well, if you are flummoxed and are thinking what
the hell is he talking about… then never mind… I will fill you in either ways!
About 3 months ago, I had stopped writing! Why? I wish there is an easy answer
to it. Well… I wish there there is even an answer to it!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">Has
this ever happened to you? You have a favorite pen which you are mighty fond
of.Not a day goes by for you without writing something with it; no matter how
poetic or meaningless it is that you write. But then one day you stop writing
and leave the pen alone. You no longer feel like opening your heart to it and
sharing your life with it. You ingore it and soon enough you are caught in a
quagmire of your own worries and issues that you forget its existence. But
then, as all good things that come to an end do, they haunt you! They remind
you of what you had once which has ceased to be yours now and suddenly fill
your heart with a desperate longing to revert time and go back to them once
more. In a mad rush, you run with complete abandon! There it is... where you
left it ages ago. Your pulse is high and your heart is racing. You feel it...
caress it... a momentary bliss! But wait a minute... something is wrong! The
pen is not reciprocating. It is so cold. You can’t feel its pulse. Its ink has
dried up. It can’t feel your blood any more. You had left it to die! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">This
pen could be anything. A thought, an idea, a friend, a hobby, a passion, a
loved one! It may even be cocaine but that would be something I am not advising
you to go back to! But the point is once you stop something… you will be
startled to see how remarkably fast we move on (well... this wouldn’t apply to
cocaine either)… how quickly the passion dies… but subconsciously there is an
unknown pain and sorrow that keeps haunting you! But you never feel like
rekindling that spark. It is a very difficult space to be and it seems so tough
to come out of that coma. We start getting comfortable in this new normal only
to realize much later that it is not the normal but the ordinary. But in
reality, getting out of this vaccuum is pretty easy; all you need is a tiny
flash spurred by a touch of madness. That is the conundrum of the paradox but
once you realize it, the air around you will feel so fresh and full of life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifNLc25Hcjq_1NBAgIPervdv1N9jR_9K4PugnDiQJTDMrue4Sm4GwBss2SnwYOfn-JvLTfmsOLYXHeL7VtRTEqpV2WIR10zTvRXfsQ_kF0eFUtEKQtOu2PeEwkp-sb3tEwsmZAt1h9Qak/s1600/nostalgia-for-the-light-1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifNLc25Hcjq_1NBAgIPervdv1N9jR_9K4PugnDiQJTDMrue4Sm4GwBss2SnwYOfn-JvLTfmsOLYXHeL7VtRTEqpV2WIR10zTvRXfsQ_kF0eFUtEKQtOu2PeEwkp-sb3tEwsmZAt1h9Qak/s640/nostalgia-for-the-light-1920.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";">The
word “memory” when used in “singular” has a mechanical (even robotic) tone to
it. You immediately think of a storage device, the computer and so on and so
forth. Make it plural, “memories”, everything changes and the word takes on a
completely different meaning. There is a human element and a personal touch
that get ingrained into it. Your mind screens a little movie of all the beautiful
moments that have defined your life and lightened up your time on this earth
and you relive those memories with a faint smile in your heart and a bright
twinkle in your eyes. Strange isn’t it… how these two words are almost the same
but invoke reactions that are light years apart from each other. Now if you are
wondering what I am trying to say here, please don’t strain yourself. I myself
haven’t a clue! I am writing after a while, so consider it “ring rust”!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "sans-serif";"> Before you decide that you have had enough,
let me try to put some clarity to my random thoughts. At the end of the day… every
day… when I look around me… when I look out… when I look in… I see so many
things… a million feelings race through my heart… a
zillion thoughts fill my mind… so
much beauty around… so much pain underneath… I don’t want all of this to just
fade away when the sun sets. I don’t want them to be locked in some never to be
accessed again “memory” either. These are memories I want to experience again
and again, share with all of you, come back to them and laugh and cry and
think. So while my pen is still fresh, I have decided to open myself again to
its magic! My apologies it took so long!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br /></div>
Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648473755487131834.post-1806838192452814572013-01-07T19:39:00.000-08:002013-01-07T19:39:23.545-08:00FROZEN BLOOD - THE CONCLUSION<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><a href="http://www.mindfiction.blogspot.com/2013/01/frozen-blood.html"><b>Read Part
1 here</b></a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">“I would rather remain single all my life
rather than marrying in such a treacherous family like yours!” Aditya’s parting
words had killed Sumitra’s soul. She woke up every night remembering them;
terrified by their callousness. “I believed you when you said your father had
not stolen the money in his factory. I believed you, didn’t I? And now he has
the tenacity to cheat my father with this fake money. You know I would have
married you even if you had told me that you could not give the dowry my dad
asked for. You broke my heart Sumitra! I loved you so much.” Aditya had tears
in eyes while Sumitra had tears in her heart.
How could he be so vicious? The tormenting image of Aditya leaving her
minutes before their marriage slowly gave way to the more devastating visual of
her father sitting lifeless in the middle of the house. “My little girl… I want
to ask you only one thing. You believe your father, right?” He asked with
imploring eyes which rained tears seeing his daughter nod vigorously and
collapse on his lap. He whispered softly in her ears: “That’s all this old man
wanted to hear my child! That’s all!” That was his last whisper.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">The four men were talking in low voices.
Raghav went a little closer and positioned himself behind a banyan tree. The
man who was speaking animatedly was the man who Raghav had trusted the most.
“Kishorilal sahib.. It was a master stroke to have the currency serial numbers
included in the house pledge agreement. Poor Ramcharan didn’t even know such a
thing existed when he signed the papers. You easily matched those to what you
had withdrawn from the bank that morning and we did the rest to frame him for
giving us fake money as dowry!” Aditya was bragging away. “Actually Ambarish
uncle set it up nicely.. What an act it was! Getting his own money robbed and
framing it on Ramcharan just days before the marriage. And then we could play
the fake dowry money drama to completely crush him. It was all too easy!” Raghav
wanted to strangle him right away. But he stopped himself. He was not ready. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Ambarish who was silent all this while spoke
slowly and frigidly. “You just had to break the man.. And then he killed
himself. I was really annoyed when your father decided to get you married to
that Sumitra. I only got my element back when you explained me your master
plan. I must say... I couldn’t have asked for a better son-in-law. I have had
my eyes on that palatial house of Ramcharan for a long long time. That is
certainly worth a killing. Now we get that free of cost and I get to keep his
gratuity and pension as a souvenir!” Aditya
interjected. “Let us not forget how important a role my dear friend Ajeesh has
played here. And not to forget his sexy but lethal car! Honestly, I liked
Sumitra. I feel a little sad for her.” They all burst into laughter. Kishorilal
was still perturbed. “We still have that
problem with the house. You can’t just take it!” Aditya dismissed that
nonchalantly. “That I am going to take care of without beating a sweat, Sir!”
His wicked smile brought solace to the others.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Raghav could not bear to hear a word more as
his blood was at its boiling point. He returned home to see Sumitra sitting
lifeless in the middle of the house. Just like father. He caressed her head,
she turned away. He held her hand gently. He couldn’t feel her pulse, but her
pain flowed through him. She couldn’t feel his touch but the glitter in his
eyes meant that the wait was over. Finally the echoes that pound her ears would
soon stop. “They are here. I saw them. After three months, they have come out from
hiding. They feel fear no more. The time has come. We have waited long enough.”
His eyes were spitting fire. That moment they heard the door open! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">The air inside the house was filled up with lethal
venom as familiar evil made its way in. “Ahh.. here we are! Take a look at our
catch. The trophy for our master plan! It was easier than I expected. I didn’t
really think that we could get rid of that Raghav so easily. We didn’t have to
do anything. The guy killed himself. What a shame!” Aditya sounded a little disappointed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">“You haven’t felt too much pain boy, have
you? When the only two people you ever cared for in your life are no more, you
easily tend to question the reason for your existence. And don’t forget, he had
the impossible task of paying up for both the money his father had borrowed
from Kishorilal and also the money that was purportedly stolen from my
factory!” Ambarish was methodically stone cold in his inference.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Aditya’s best friend Ajeesh made his
presence felt. “That is why it was so important to make it look like Sumitra
had also killed herself. If Raghav had known that we had planned that, he would
have certainly come after us for vengeance. You all should thank me for
volunteering to do your dirty work.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">“Don’t get too arrogant boy. You were not
supposed to come to this village again. You were the perfect stranger under whose
car a dejected Sumitra willingly ended her life. Your act is over, remember. If
anyone sees you with us, then we could be in trouble. And by the way, you
didn’t do it for charity, son!” Kishorilal was fuming. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Aditya patted Kishorilal on the back.
“Relax! no one can do anything now. It is now time for the final act. I am
going to make people believe that I am still so smitten by Sumitra’s love and
that I can’t live without her. I buy this house from Kishorilalji and I spend a
year mourning Sumitra’s death. That much time is enough for people to forget
about wars. Then Ambarish uncle will persuade me to marry his daughter and I will
reluctantly give in with a heavy heart. And then the bride and groom will live happily
ever after! In this very house! Kishorilalji gets Ramcharan’s gratuity while
Ajeesh gets the stolen factory money. How about that for a plan? Sounds fair,
isn’t it!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Thunderous claps applauded his deviously
ingenious plan. A ghastly silence ensued as they looked at each other totally
befuddled. Raghav and Sumitra had just welcomed their prey. An unknown fear
gripped them. Aditya broke the silence. “Oh.. Come on.. That’s just the wind
beating against the windows. What is with you guys? Has the dark night gotten
to your nerves? Now don’t tell me that Sumitra’s spirit is waiting inside to
haunt me. I wouldn’t mind a little bit of romance anyways!” His evil laugh
echoed back from the walls in Ramcharan’s voice. An eerie chill engulfed the
souls of the sinners! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">“Bhaiyya… you can take care of the others..
but this one is mine! A few months ago, in this very house, he had promised me that
very soon he is going to entrust me with his life. Now I am just going to take
what is already mine. Nothing much has changed, has it?” Sumitra winked at
Raghav who saw the rare twinkle in his sister’s eyes. “Sure my dear.. give him
all the romance he is yearning for!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">After 2 hours of drinking and some heavy
duty gambling, the three of them bid good bye and good luck to Aditya who was
completely sloshed. He went straight to the bed. He heard the door bolt behind
him!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><b><i><span style="color: #e69138;"> - A SHORT STORY BY RAJ</span></i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
</div>
Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.com42tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648473755487131834.post-27669540765430102832013-01-02T20:11:00.000-08:002013-01-07T19:41:38.357-08:00FROZEN BLOOD - THE BEGINNING<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><a href="http://www.mindfiction.blogspot.com/2013/01/frozen-blood-conclusion.html">Read the Conclusion here</a></span></b><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">It had been one hell of a day for Raghav.
Three months ago, he would not have imagined his life would take such a turn.
He writhed in agony. How much did his heart and soul yearn to roll those three
months back! He would kill for that. Yes he would. Kill! He was walking back
after another fruitless day. With every passing day of ineptitude and futility,
his vengeance simmered and its rumble matched the sky’s thunder. It was a dark
night and the lack of stars in the sky was synonymous to the lack of compassion
in his heart. Compassion is for the weak; hope is for the meek he thought. The
bolt of lightning gave him God’s consent.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Sumitra was pale and her pulse was frantic!
This house which had flooded her mind with myriad memories of bliss now seemed
alien. The windows were closed yet a macabre chillness engulfed her. She could
hear a scream and it was the pain from a wronged soul. The loyal walls echoed
the scream to a deafening resonance. It was their homage to their master! She
had lost track of time and place. She was not in control of herself anymore.
She would wander aimlessly around the house all day desperately searching for
happiness which she felt was permanently buried inside those walls three months
ago. She heard footsteps but they were not approaching her. They were leaving
her forever and she hysterically ran behind them. They led her to that dreaded
well!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">It was a hellish night and the streets were
deserted. The wind was lashing ruthlessly and even the burliest of trees were
feeling rickety but Raghav was emotionless and resolute. Nature had nothing to
destroy in a man who had been ripped apart by fate. That moment, a thunder bolt
struck with vicious intensity, and in that split second flash he saw the
silhouette of the car that had rendered his life meaningless. He could still
see frozen blood in its tire tracks. Standing near the car were four men, each
of them deserved a death as cruel as life was for him! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Sumitra stared into the well with a
distracted glare in her eyes. For the first time, she actually realized how
deep it was. There was an invisible chill from deep inside that was more
forceful than gravity as she tried to hold her own. Suddenly she felt a touch
and turned around with a start. It was her father. She smiled at him. He smiled
back. Ironically the smile on his lips blended perfectly with the pain in her heart. She crumbled on his shoulders. He took the position of the well bucket
and implored her to let him go. Tears rolled down his cheeks along with a
lifetime of memories. He “My girl.. I want to give you something before I
leave.” He opened his hands and offered his heart. It was then she noticed the
hole in his chest. She shrieked and released the rope. The bucket splashed
against the water and deposited a few drops of blood on her face. Her soul
trembled at the reverberating echo. She ran inside terrified.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Ramcharan was a simple man who had lived a
life of principle, simplicity and happiness. He lost his wife early and from
then on his life revolved around Raghav and Sumitra. He worked all his life in
the textile mill run by the local big shot Ambarish and his sons. A sad
predicament to a man who was born in a well off business family! But bad luck
and a wastrel uncle spelled doom and by the time he had reached his adolescence
there was nothing left but for their ancestral house. But he was a very content
man and found peace with his fate and happiness blossomed in the form of his
adorable children. He watched them grow up to be fine individuals. While Raghav
became a clerk in the bank, Sumitra took up teaching the little village kids in
the local school. With just a few months for his retirement, the only thing
that worried Ramcharan was Sumitra’s marriage. That was when Aditya came into
their lives.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Aditya was a rich lad who was the charming
and capable son of the local landlord. It took him only 2 visits to the local
school to lose his heart to the lovely and caring school teacher. Ramcharan
knew that Aditya’s family was beyond their means or status but Aditya’s
personality and his sincere love for Sumitra sowed seeds of hope in Ramcharan’s
heart. As he had expected, it wasn’t easy as Aditya’s father turned out to be
the typical haughty landlord and put a huge prize tag for his precious son. His
life long savings would only cover half of it and he reluctantly looked at this
house as it gently smiled back at him. He immediately went to his old friend
Kishorilal who happily lent him money on the house at a minimal interest rate. He
was really surprised and overwhelmed by the rare benevolence of his miserly
friend. He was going to retire and a lump sum awaited for him in a few months
which he felt should be enough to recover the pledged house soon. Or so he
thought!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"> <span style="color: #e69138;"><b><i> TO BE CONCLUDED….</i></b></span></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><span style="color: #e69138;"><b><i> </i></b></span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><span style="color: #e69138;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.com37tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648473755487131834.post-70478172885162807252012-12-26T22:28:00.000-08:002012-12-26T22:28:15.713-08:00PAINTING THE SKIES<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Dear Friends.. I am sorry for yet another long break. I know.. I have been doing this quite a bit recently. Anyways.. am back with something interesting again! Okay... so tell me friends… What would be your idea for
a lazy Sunday afternoon? I see a lot of hands. And I guess there are a lot of
refreshing recipes for a relaxing weekend afternoon act. A good heavy meal, is
it? It certainly helps if a Saravana Bhavan or a Punjabi dhaba is round the
corner. But it will be even more special when a loved one cooks that heavenly
meal for you or you make his/her afternoon special by becoming the master chef.
Okay… I hear you are on diet. A movie perhaps! Check out the latest blockbuster
that is showing in the multiplex nearby. Ahh.. Mixed reviews you say! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Hmmm… How about sitting back on that
recliner and checking out anything the idiot box has to offer? Coziness and
entertainment all at one place; with a refreshing dash of ginger tea and bliss
is yours. Chaos in the living room, huh!! What to watch: Debate on economics or
a movie or an Ekta Kapoor soap opera!
Gosh, can’t decide!! Okay okay.. stop that fight for the remote. Let me
think of something else. Wait wait… don’t go to sleep! How about a long drive
into the woods? What woods you ask? I hear someone yelling “Traffic”! Hmm..
This is getting tougher than I thought. How about a silent and pleasant walk
then? Did someone say cricket? Oh
oh…There goes the afternoon for most of you now! I will leave you alone. You
guys can fight in peace now!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Well these are all very viable options for
lighting up a dull Sunday afternoon which were in my mind too. But the skies
had other plans (literally). How is that you ask? Glad you did! It did start
out as a dull, peaceful and serene Sunday morning as it went by in slow motion.
A little bit of TV, some chit chat and coffee of course made it soothing and
relaxing for me, mom and dad. And then it was lunch time as I debated the
different options for lunch with mom. We settled on Pav Bhaji as the weather
was in perfect synchrony for that and also because mom had never tried her hand
at that before. So the chef hat and the apron were on as we went about the task
at hand with enthusiasm and panache. And voila… Pav Bhaji was ready. Or so we
thought! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">But we had one small technical problem:
there was no Pav. A quick trip to the grocery store solved that minor obstacle
and lunch was upon us. Each one of us gulped down enough Pavs (not to mention
the generous stuffing of Bhaji) that our eyes were fading out as we were ready
to go into la-la-land. And that is when I just stepped out to the balcony to
take a peek at what nature had in store that day. It was a fine day with the
right mix of warmth and breeze, color and shade, blue sky embellished by cream
clouds, birds chirping, squirrels fooling around (oh btw.. I do have to tell
you something about squirrels but that would have to wait), cars (and men)
giving Mother Nature a break, trees sveltely grooving to the winds and autumn
leaves adorning the sidewalks. This abounding spectacle sent the idea of a nap
cart-wheeling out of my mind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Mom has always been an ardent admirer of
nature herself and she joined me in the balcony as we listened to nature’s
sweet chimes. And that was when we saw the sky’s white magic. It happened all
of a sudden that we were left dumbstruck and pinched each other to ensure it
was not a dream. Before you decide (for the umpteenth time) to kill me for
holding you hostage with my impending suspense, let me let the cat out of the
sky. The reason for our blissful commotion was that letters all of a sudden
started appearing in the sky. Yes, you read it right. A magical invisible pen
with the help of a precision stencil was etching out letters that were
literally appearing out of thin air. We could recognize the letters but the
words made no clear sense. And then in a minute or two everything disappeared.
Now we were really curious about this mysterious turn of events. The afternoon
nap was certainly out and we waited in anticipation of more wizardry from this
mysterious wand. In other news, the curiosity bug had infected my dad as he too
joined us in the balcony. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">About 15 minutes had gone by and we were
beginning to lose hope when a déjà vu happened. In another direction, in a
different part of the sky, different letters made their appearance one by one
to create new words but the one thing that remained the same was the fact that
we couldn’t make out what the heck it meant. And then a minute later, it was
all gone. Now I started speculating about these seemingly mysterious happenings
and quickly made up a few preposterous theories. Was it some evil spirit’s
handiwork? Were those writings somehow connected to some holy scripture? Was it
warning us of some impending doom? I even thought about trying to research
those words and try to find some patterns when my mom said that I was trying
too much to be Sherlock Holmes (or Ramanugem rather).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOHrZCw_3vmd48oHl2cS3qn3_TEcSivrGJUsBMMBd0ZJgTLk4Rrc-G11Xo7xnzTt1OH5hEwdcCjm_ACvLHUPyKPaqebPRzXpCHNmi5iDppvolPbLvrfp5GdEoySnsMKYSenXzwCSlSoTM/s1600/sky-tweet.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOHrZCw_3vmd48oHl2cS3qn3_TEcSivrGJUsBMMBd0ZJgTLk4Rrc-G11Xo7xnzTt1OH5hEwdcCjm_ACvLHUPyKPaqebPRzXpCHNmi5iDppvolPbLvrfp5GdEoySnsMKYSenXzwCSlSoTM/s400/sky-tweet.png" width="420" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; text-align: justify;">In the meantime, another message had
appeared in the sky teasing us with another riddle before fading away
surreptitiously. Now we were proposing the theory of an alien attack (come on,
we wanted to have some fun) and that over-abused prophecy of the world coming
to an end in 2012. Seriously, an alien visit rather an alien attack would
surely have been fun. But then, all good things have to come to an end. With
some googling and research, I finally traced this to a Ryder cup gimmick. Now
what is Ryder cup, you ask. It is a golf tournament between </span><st1:country-region style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; text-align: justify;" w:st="on">USA</st1:country-region><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; text-align: justify;"> and </span><st1:place style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; text-align: justify;" w:st="on">Europe</st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; text-align: justify;">
that happens every 2 years.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC0oBldIkiorNlVwLE7zLIJhqb6oGQBxLUfW1_QYSUQ09LWjjQh6c-n46h-K0BXQwVr1VfoqFkQhUA9cYbnUBDaeGZ3RQLAEQYNxjljIqvPWjfDLpzi57RXL_J0dEvvhSozCe9ldzzBBs/s1600/sky+tweet+2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC0oBldIkiorNlVwLE7zLIJhqb6oGQBxLUfW1_QYSUQ09LWjjQh6c-n46h-K0BXQwVr1VfoqFkQhUA9cYbnUBDaeGZ3RQLAEQYNxjljIqvPWjfDLpzi57RXL_J0dEvvhSozCe9ldzzBBs/s400/sky+tweet+2.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">I know.. Golf is boring. Tell me about that!
But this time it provided more fun even if it was unintentional. Apparently <st1:place w:st="on">Europe</st1:place> made a historic comeback to retain the Ryder Cup.
And I guess they had a little help from above. Well, not from that high up as
you are thinking, but from at least above 50,000 feet. A European bookie hired
a team of sky writers to create pro European tweets high above the country club
where the tournament was going on, which by the way is in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Chicago</st1:city></st1:place> close to where I live. But to make
them visible so far on the ground though, the planes have to make the writing
really big. Each tweet was 400 meters high and 5 miles long and went on to
break all skywriting records. That meant even people as far as 20 miles away
could clearly see the writings on the sky and we were among the lucky ones. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Well… so ends the story of an intriguing
Sunday afternoon. It was no Apocalypse but still a memorable and enthralling
experience. For the first time I came to know about this concept called Sky
Writing. It is the art of using an aircraft that is capable of expelling smoke,
to fly in certain patterns to create writing readable by someone on the ground.
Fascinating, isn’t it? Now this message could be anything, meaningful or less,
advertisement, celebration or even a birthday wish or a marriage proposal. Now
how many of you would want the heavens to broadcast your proposal to that
special love of yours! I sure see a lot of hands again. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><br /></span></div>
</div>
Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.com43tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648473755487131834.post-9365949060791945632012-12-02T21:13:00.000-08:002012-12-02T21:13:54.029-08:00AMAZING ALAMU<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Sorry everyone for taking another long break!
As usual my body and my brain have been lazing around. Ooops… I didn’t say that.
Read that as: I have been busy with work! :P<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">But guess what… I am back and I have a brand new cartoon
character for you. How fantastic is that! So without much further ado here is “Amazing
Alamu” for you. She is smart, intelligent, old, wise, kind, caring, carefree,
talkative and above all very inquisitive and interestingly intriguing. Don’t worry.
You will get to know her more. She is new to social media and her goal is to
become tech savvy in no time. So here I leave you with one such “Techy” encounter!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBmrmOoUHt7Ub2XGnL3nLjwnxU7IqD4BSS11a-LENa4OT8q0o2wvzza1B6Zp___3brH7qdMcEa_WHl5l3-vylHu0p5krCNYaqWrUmN2ztjejGjut5q2EMvzRsbWBJxKAzKwo6mcYi2590/s1600/Amazing+Alamu.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="418" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBmrmOoUHt7Ub2XGnL3nLjwnxU7IqD4BSS11a-LENa4OT8q0o2wvzza1B6Zp___3brH7qdMcEa_WHl5l3-vylHu0p5krCNYaqWrUmN2ztjejGjut5q2EMvzRsbWBJxKAzKwo6mcYi2590/s640/Amazing+Alamu.png" width="810" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.com53tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648473755487131834.post-53439590187587371052012-10-30T19:46:00.000-07:002012-10-30T19:47:24.449-07:00AUTUMN LEAVES<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Here
is something I thought about, that is going to tickle and delight your heart
and mind. Oh oh… no.. Don’t get too excited though as I am not going to tell
you anything remotely new or ground-breaking. I am sure it is going to be déjà
vu for most of you. (But wait wait.. don’t run away. Please read on! :P) Imagine
asking your child to draw a tree. Ah.. I see some nostalgic smiles there. Well…
what do you do? You give her a nice big sheet of paper, drawing pencils,
crayons of different colors and even paint brushes and water colors if she is a
pro. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Now
I am sure your kid is not new to such an exercise but would nevertheless enjoy
another opportunity to unleash her creativity. So the child goes about
effortlessly outlining the tree as she has done several times in drawing
classes at school. She carves out a broad trunk for the tree, designs the
branches generously and then carefully and delicately fills them with leaves.
Then she throws in some fruits and may be gets fancy with birds, squirrels and
other potential inhabitants too. If she is a stickler for detail, she may even
go underground chalking out the roots.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Then
what does she do? Well… she turns towards the crayon box or water colors that
have been lying there craving for her attention. It is time to add some color
in the tree’s life. It is only very fitting as trees add so much color to our
lives. She starts with the trunk and works her way up to the leaves. She picks
her favorite color green and splatters it all over the leaves. Now she looks at
the box: there are so many colors left, she thinks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">So
she picks up her favorite maroon and starts pondering. After a bit of debating,
she decides to color a few leaves with this new exciting color. She takes a
look at it: Not bad, she thinks. The few specks of maroon have added to the
beauty of the tree. Now she gets even more creative. She mixes yellow and
orange to get the golden tinge. She adds some glitter to the tree by decorating
some leaves in gold. She is not yet satisfied. She does some more blending and
comes up with some purple, golden brown and dark red leaves as well. Now she
looks at her work of art with great bliss. She seems quite pleased. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">It
is time for some “show-off”. She comes running to you to display her wizardry
with the brush. You look at the tree and for a moment you are shocked. You were
expecting a “green” tree fresh and full of foliage. Now here is your kid who
has sort of made a rainbow out of the tree. But then it strikes you (hopefully;
otherwise there is always Wikipedia) that there is a season called autumn,
which we had once read about when we were in 1<sup>st</sup> or 2<sup>nd</sup>
standard. Your child has unknowingly but ever so beautifully crystallized a
tree that displays “Fall Foliage”. Isn’t that magical? That is why they say:
“Children are God’s greatest gift to us”. They can see the purity and splendor
of God’s creations better than us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3YxNUhL629OHmjGd8Mg8Gt4HTjhHSk5tQ6EH0s1fU_cJlO0FrXPs4i1nEe4HzjJIs56XV0zYFds1EqgiBW9ta7vCYG8CFJsyYCAjkzzRVpVYzWgtLvHPLUIT_qKBO0CWguadw0RSsdXs/s1600/autumn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3YxNUhL629OHmjGd8Mg8Gt4HTjhHSk5tQ6EH0s1fU_cJlO0FrXPs4i1nEe4HzjJIs56XV0zYFds1EqgiBW9ta7vCYG8CFJsyYCAjkzzRVpVYzWgtLvHPLUIT_qKBO0CWguadw0RSsdXs/s640/autumn.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Now
you might be wondering why in the first place I am writing all this. I don’t
know either. This week I have been noticing the first glimpses of autumn and
the gentle rustling and crumbling of the leaves as they sweep across me made me
think about it. The trees around have been slowly but steadily becoming more
and more colorful and against a grey sky on a rainy evening, they sure look poetic.
And they keep distracting me. There was this simple question as to why all this
happens in my mind that has kept me intrigued. By now, most of you would be
aware of my intelligence quotient. So after having unsuccessfully raked my
brains trying to understand the “Autumn leaf phenomenon”, I sought the help of
none other than <b>Professor Eisenkleiftovich</b>! I know you guys would have
missed him and his genius. He is busy with his research on “Martian sand” but
promised to make a full fledged appearance soon. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">So
here is an excerpt from what he had to say about “Autumn leaves”. As usual he
was a bit philosophical too. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">“We
always think (such a misplaced thought) that we are the only ones who can
think. But it would come as a surprise to many of us to know that even plants
have “Intelligence”. First of all, as we know, they not only produce food for
themselves, but also for us. And by food for us I meant “Oxygen”. Leaves are
nature’s food factories. Well, as you would know, “Photosynthesis” is a
phenomenon wherein leaves use sunlight to turn water and carbon dioxide into
oxygen and glucose. They keep the “glucose” for themselves and gift us the
Oxygen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Now
every factory has a shutdown. As summer draws to a close and autumn comes by,
the days become shorter and shorter and the trees know and sense that winter is
coming. During winter there won’t be enough sunshine for photosynthesis and
hence the trees will shut down and live off of stored food. Now a leaf is green
because of chlorophyll and its abundance dominates and masks any other pigments
present in the leaf and “Chlorophyll” is the “Photosynthesis” guy. So now since
he is not needed, he slowly disappears from the leaves and other guys start
showing up. And that’s when we start seeing the yellows, oranges, bright reds
and purples. If you want to know more about the science, do visit the
references and enlighten yourself.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">So
that was Mr.Eisenkleiftovich for you guys giving me some “leaf” gyan. Now it is
time for me to signoff on this lovely Friday afternoon as I leave office early
to take my parents on an autumn “leaf peeping” tour in the evening. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">And I shall leave you with a lovely poetic welcome to Autumn by a dear fellow blogger </span></b><b style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><span style="color: #bf9000;"><a href="http://rahulsblogandcollections.blogspot.com/">Rahul</a>.</span> You can read it here: </span></b><b style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><a href="http://rahulsblogandcollections.blogspot.in/2012/10/welcome-autumn.html">Welcome
Autumn</a>.</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><br /></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">P.S:
Did I mention to you that after I wrote the article “An Alternate Hypothesis to
Einstein’s theory of relativity”, I got a post-card from the man himself! It
read: “Nice try, fella!”<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">References:<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><a href="http://www.sciencemadesimple.com/leaves.html"><span style="font-weight: normal;">http://www.sciencemadesimple.com/leaves.html</span></a></span></u></b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Autumn_leaf_color">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Autumn_leaf_color</a><b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.com84tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648473755487131834.post-24386256058023621922012-10-20T21:05:00.000-07:002012-10-20T21:07:08.854-07:00A SMILE’S CURSE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">It
is a strange feeling to be a stranger at home. Navdeep had an eerie uneasiness
that engulfed the vacuum of his mind as he and Suhana landed in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Bangalore</st1:place></st1:city>, a city whose
lush greenery and verdant trees once shared every secret desire of his. Today
it was just another city whose gardens appeased his heart no more. The inner connect
had been lost for years, there was no nostalgia in the air and he no longer
yearned for the petrichor. Had it not been for his ailing mother and the
impending registration of his new house, Navdeep would have preferred to stay
away from this epicenter of trouble, doubt, discomfort and dirt, out of his own
guilt rather than intent. It is quite incredible how perspectives change when
idealism of the mind and serenity of the heart are blitzed by the practicality
of comfort and the brashness of wealth. But again, every time he set foot in
the land of his fathers, his heart would get entangled in a quagmire of
memories and would relive the magic of the past thereby forcing his mind to a
perennial coma of confusion, doubt and desire. A strange conundrum is Life!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.5in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><b> <span style="font-size: large;">-------- ~~--~~--~~---------</span><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Navdeep’s
left eye waged an hour long battle to separate the intertwined lashes and lift
the heavy eyelid to let some light in. It took some time for the photons to
take shape and for his neurons to put them in perspective. He didn’t know where
he was. He looked at an animated Suhana who seemed to be in a rampant fit. His
mother’s eyes said a silent prayer and his dad held his hand so tight which
made him feel the excruciating pain in every other part of his body. Suddenly
he remembered something! He slid his hand to his left pocket. He found a
crumbled 500 rupee note!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">“Ayyanar…”
he mumbled!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.5in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><b> <span style="font-size: large;"> -------- ~~--~~--~~---------</span><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"> “Hello Sir. How have you been? It has been
ages since I saw you.” Ayyanar had a forgotten innocence in his smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">“I
am okay. Can we do this quickly?” Navdeep was in no mood for niceties. He was
already furious at his builder who didn’t consider it important enough to help
him out personally. “How dare he send a helper instead!” he fumed inside. But
seeing Ayyanar comforted him as he was a very nice and sincere chap and had
helped Navdeep a lot, earlier during the construction of the house.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">“Of
course Sir. But you know the custom here. Taluk offices hardly work the way we
want to. But you don’t worry Sir. I shall get everything done for you by today.
Shall we leave?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">“In
this?” Navdeep asked jokingly pointing at the rusty Kinetic Zing which stood
laboriously as if it was on crutches. Ayyanar grinned sheepishly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.5in; text-indent: .5in;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"> <span style="font-size: large;">-------- ~~--~~--~~---------</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">“Are
you giving me a <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Bangalore</st1:place></st1:city>
darshan, my friend? Where is this office?” yelled Navdeep.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Meanwhile
Ayyanar was lost in wonderland as he was drooling over a gorgeous Katrina Kaif
who was selling some trendy designer watch in a larger than life cutout.
Ayyanar would have bought just about anything!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">“You
are going to kill me. Stop ogling at your Chikni Chameli and watch the road
fellow!” Navdeep patted Ayyanar back to earth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.5in; text-indent: .5in;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><span style="font-size: large;"> -------- ~~--~~--~~---------</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">The
thought of Katrina Kaif brought a temporary smile in Navdeep’s face. But then
reality came back to him again. “Where is Ayyanar?” he muttered again. There
were blank faces all around but his mind was still numb to register anything. He
couldn’t hear what his father was saying but he saw him shake his head!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.5in; text-indent: .5in;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"> <span style="font-size: large;"> -------- ~~--~~--~~---------</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"> “What do you mean you need 3 witnesses? Didn’t
you talk to our builder and agree to everything? Now why this nautanki? And
don’t give me the officer-on-leave crap. I am sure you can get a signature
can’t you?” Ayyanar was at his animated best.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Navdeep
dragged Ayyanar away to the next room. “Just give the money he asks for and get
it done with”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">“I
will Sir. But he is asking for 1500 rupees which is outrageous. He says he
needs it for other people as well but I am damn sure he never gives anyone else
a dime. That’s not fair”, Ayyanar argued very religiously.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">“Fairness
in bribery! Anyways this is your territory. I won’t and can’t interfere.”
Navdeep thrust three 500 rupee notes and put his hands up as Ayyanar stormed
back into the office again. He came back in half an hour with a devilish grin
in his face. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">“Here
you go Sir. Your 500 rupees! That guy doesn’t even deserve the 1000. And I
won’t give up your hard earned money so easily!” There was a sense of
satisfaction in his tone which amazed Navdeep. It was strange to him that someone cared more for his money than he did. He felt that if anyone deserved
the 500 rupees, it was Ayyanar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.5in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><span style="font-size: large;"> -------- ~~--~~--~~---------</span></span></b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Navdeep’s
eyes welled up in tears as reality slowly sunk in. His mind went blank and the
image of Ayyanar froze in front of his eyes. He tore the 500 rupee note into
pieces.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.5in; text-indent: .5in;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><span style="font-size: large;"> -------- ~~--~~--~~---------</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"> “See... <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Mission</st1:place></st1:city>
accomplished. As I had promised you! Now sit back and enjoy the view as Ms.Zing
takes us home!” an enthusiastic Ayyanar was whistling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">“Yeah..
all credit to you Ayyanar. Thank you so much. Without you, nothing would have
been possible. I would have been circling this office for days. Heyy… check that
out. Your dream girl Katrina again! She looks even more beautiful sipping that
mango juice over there!” Ayyanar almost instantaneously rotated his head to the
direction Navdeep pointed. Then it happened!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.5in; text-indent: .5in;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><span style="font-size: large;"> -------- ~~--~~--~~---------</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Navdeep
gasped for his breath. Finally the one memory that will remain to haunt him for
the rest of his life unfolded in front of his eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">“In this?” Navdeep asked jokingly pointing at the rusty Kinetic Zing which stood laboriously as if it was on crutches. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">Ayyanar grinned sheepishly. </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">“Sir..
Don’t make fun of my Zing. It is my sweetheart. I love her more than Katrina
Kaif. Here... take my helmet. You will feel safer!” Ayyanar pummeled the kick
start as Navdeep casually inquired: “And what about you?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Ayyanar
smiled back innocently – for one last time!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.5in; text-indent: .5in;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><span style="font-size: large;"> -------- ~~--~~--~~---------</span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.5in; text-indent: .5in;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.5in; text-indent: .5in;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="color: #f6b26b;"> - A
SHORT STORY BY RAJ</span></span></i></b></div>
</div>
Rajhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01138309630324239186noreply@blogger.com61