FUNNY BONE THERAPY

First of all, I would like to thank all my wonderful wonderful friends and readers for having the patience to read through the three parts of my first murder mystery despite the wait. Hope I didn't bore anyone to death and there is no one out there planning to murder me. :)

Thank you so much for the lovely comments and words of encouragement. You all really made my day. I am really humbled. This is really great motivation for me to write more and you will probably see more of Mr.Gem! ;) I would also like to know any critiques you have, loopholes you found or any alternate endings you think might have been more apt! Any comments or suggestions you have are most welcome. You can also email them to me at: rajagopalan.murugan@gmail.com

After some hardcore crime-busting action, it is time to lighten up the mood a bit. So it is cartoon time! Oh btw.. before that I have a small fun poll here as to who your favorite cartoon character is!

Well, if you are new to these characters or want to know more about their adventures, I leave you with their funny little trysts that will tickle your funny bones!

RAZ FOR PREZ – An aspiring politician, a wannabe President, a Mr.Panacea for the society!

http://mindfiction.blogspot.com/2011/12/raz-for-prez.html

MR.C’MON MAN – A confused soul; A self proclaimed genius!

http://mindfiction.blogspot.com/2012/02/mr-cmon-man.html

CHEEKY CHUCK – Mr.Tongue in Cheek; wisecracks galore!

http://mindfiction.blogspot.com/2012/05/cheeky-chuck.html

Vote for your favorite character now! Btw.. you are going to see more of all these geniuses. They are just getting warmed up! ;) 

RAMANUGEM CHRONICLES – MURDER AT SUNDARAM VILLA - FINALE

*I completely understand how difficult and agonizing it is to be not able to read a murder mystery in one go! So my apologies for the wait! 

Read Part 1 here

Read Part 2 here

“There is, my friend. There is! A very important clue!” Ramanujam took a moment to relish their awestruck faces. “Then stop fooling around and come out with it. What the hell did your brain just uncover? ”, shouted Alex.

 “The bullet! The clue is in the bullet! It was found on the floor, not in Raghavan’s body. There was a scratch on the floor which you had missed. If the killer had shot him from the gate or garden, wouldn’t it have pierced his body and hit the door? But there is no mark on the door to support that. Instead there is a strong scratch mark on the floor!” 

“What are you getting at, Saar?” Martin was all ears.

“He was shot from above. From the terrace!” Ramanujam had a wry smile in his lips.

“Damn... I should have figured that out. How stupid of me!” Alex took out another cigarette.

“Nicotine deficiency may be!” Ramanujam smiled at Martin who was too scared to say anything.

“But that doesn’t make sense. If you are shooting from the terrace, the bullet would have blown his head off. But the bullet hit his back!” Alex still couldn’t get his head around this one.

Ramanujam started pacing. “True. But what if he was bending down?”

“Why would he come to his door step and bend down instead of ringing the door bell?” Martin was equally confused.

Ramanujam was seeing it clearly in his head. “What if he found something on the floor? And if that something was his cell phone? What if it had been placed a few paces ahead of the door step just for Raghavan to bend and pick it up? Right here! See the architecture. That way you get a clear shot from the terrace! The phone must have started ringing at that very moment he came to the door. Karthik told us that Raghavan had forgotten his cell phone at home that day. Do you have his cell phone with you now?”

“Yes, I do Saar. Why?” Martin took out the phone. “Check if there was any call around 10:30.” Ramanujam and Alex were anxiously waiting as Martin fumbled through the call listing. “Oh my God. Yes Saar. A call from an unknown number at 10:24! Let me go run a check on this number.”

Ramanujam stopped him. “Wait. Hold on. I don’t think that would be of much use. What is the duration of the call?” “25 seconds. You are absolutely right Saar! It was all set up perfectly.” Martin’s eyes were staring at Alex who still looked perplexed while Ramanujam was fixing the jigsaw puzzle in his head. “Well... I think I know who the killer is. Time for some drama! Let us call a family meeting to confirm. And then we head to Martin’s house. Martin, I hope you are well stocked.” Martin gave a wry smile. “Of course Saar. Any time!”

The entire family was gathered in the living room. Everyone was anxious and confused as to what was going to transpire. There were nervous glances as Alex started off. “We are very sorry for your loss. We understand how tough it must be for all of you to go through the enquiry at this time. But I am sure it will be as painful for all of you to know that the killer is in this very room at this very moment.”

There was a terrifying silence in the room followed by an outburst. It was Sunita. “How dare you? We all loved him. This is absurd... This is…” Words escaped her as she sulked on the floor. Mr.Sundaram took her in his arms. “Don’t make baseless allegations. Do you understand what you are saying?” He was furious.

“Unfortunately we do Saar!” Alex glanced at Ramanujam hinting him to take the lead.

“Who is it? Who the hell did it?” shouted an irate Chander.

“Calm down Chander. I am getting to that. Well, Jeniffer. Since I hadn’t talked to you before, I have a couple of questions for you?” Ramanujam turned to Jeniffer who looked petrified.

“Tell me something Jeniffer. How did you know Raghavan was killed?”

“I heard Ponniah scream and came down.”

“Really! You were upstairs and must have been in your room. It was raining so heavily. How did you hear him?”

“Well... I was near the stairs and was about to come down anyways!” Sunita was now looking at her suspiciously.

“It was pouring, right! Did you bring an umbrella?” Ramanujam glanced at the wet umbrella as if leading her to it.

“Oh.. Yes yes. I did. I did!” Her nervousness was very evident to everyone now.

“Then why is it that Sunita’s umbrella was wet and not yours?” Ramanujam was in his element now.

“Well.. well.. I.. I.. I was in a hurry.. I…” All eyes were on her now.

“She couldn’t have killed Raghavan. She didn’t do that.” Chander’s scream echoed round the house.

“And how would you be so confident, Mr.Chander?” Alex was circling Chander whose head was clearly spinning.

“Because Jeniffer was with Chander in his room when Raghavan was killed.” Ramanujam’s sensational observation stunned everyone, including Alex. A cadaverous silence ensued!

“You see. If Jeniffer had been in her room and came down in a hurry on hearing the scream, she would not have been prompt enough to switch off the lights in her room. She must have been in Chander’s room since evening I am guessing. But for fear of getting caught, Chander came out first and then when everyone else had gathered, Jeniffer came out so that no one noticed. And she never brought any umbrella!”

“Then who did it? Enough of your suspense! Who is the killer?” Alex was out of control.

“Alex, even by your standards, you should have guessed that now. Mr.Sundaram! Who else?” Ramanujam looked at Mr.Sundaram who stood there motionless and emotionless. Sunita burst out into tears.

“Mr.Sundaram had his plan well laid out. He had secretly taken Raghavan’s phone in the morning while he was too busy to notice. In the evening, Sunita was out, Ponniah was sleeping and Jeniffer and Chander were busy romancing. So it was quite easy for him to quietly place the phone at the door step. He quietly went upstairs and positioned himself in the balcony and waited for Raghavan. Now came the first problem: Rain! In a hurry he came down and picked up Sunita’s umbrella! First mistake right there. Not a big one but big enough for me!

By now, you should know that Raghavan’s pistol was in Mr.Sundaram’s safe custody. Everything else went as planned. Now he cannot keep the murder weapon with him, nor did he have enough time to plan its disposal. So he threw the pistol to the dust bin on the road. His basket ball skills came in handy here. It wouldn't matter if we found it out anyways. Then he quickly came down. The chaos had already begun and Ponniah and Chander were near the body. Mr.Sundaram slipped in and calmly joined them. No one would suspect for coming late as his was the last room. 

But now why kill Raghavan? I guess that is not too difficult to guess either. Mr.Sundaram had lot of faith in Raghavan. So much faith that he had entrusted his empire in his hands considering the best interests of the family and his business! He had thought that this would bring Chander in line too. But instead, Raghavan didn’t turn out to be the saint he pretended to be. I am sure for a man of Mr.Sundaram’s caliber; it wouldn’t have taken too long to figure out the real colors of Raghavan. But it was too late. He was in total control: of his daughter, his family, his business and his wealth. Mr.Sundaram had no other option but to kill Raghavan to regain all that he had lost due to one bad decision. And he was so angry that he wanted to probably kill Raghavan himself. Raghavan was an industrialist plus a womanizer. Mr.Sundaram hoped that we would go fishing for his enemies. But that was not to be!

Well, that sums up the case. Mr.Sundaram! I am really sorry. I completely understand your position but I don’t approve of your solution!” Ramanujam offered his condolences to Sunita and Chander as they accompanied their father who was taken away by Alex’s men.

“Whoa Gem! That was fast. You have made short work of it. Bravo my man!” Alex patted him on the back.

“But Alex. I guess you still have a lot of work ahead of you. There is still no strong evidence for your case to hold in a court. So better get on it!”

“Well, we will look into it. But right now, we have a more important agenda. Don’t we Martin?” Alex was all smiles. “I will get Mr.Sundaram to the police station and join you guys in an hour. Does that work?”

“I don’t know. Offer open only till stocks last!” Ramanujam and Martin burst out into laughter. 

                                                                                                                              - A SHORT STORY BY RAJ.

RAMANUGEM CHRONICLES – MURDER AT SUNDARAM VILLA - PART II

** To all of you who had threatened to murder me if I don't post the next part soon! ;) As Promised!

Read Part 1 here

They walked to a tea stall nearby. Alex lit his Gold Flake while Ramanujam ordered a special ginger tea. “Okay Alex. Tell me what is Sunita’s take on this!” “Well. She is crestfallen. She claims that he didn’t have any such enemies who could kill him. I asked around. There were no troubles between them. They were a very happily married couple!”

“Hmm.. Interesting! And what does Mr.Sundaram think of his son-in-law? Alex took a long puff. “I got the exact same account as Sunita. He greatly respected him. Raghavan took care of the business after him. Mr.Sundaram has even transferred Sundaram Textiles to Raghavan’s name as he had given up all hope on Chander!” 

“Oh oh. Recipe for Murder!” Ramanujam raised his eye brows as they saw Martin scurrying towards them. “Martin, my man. What have you got?” The Gold Flake had breathed some energy into Alex.

“Not much Sir. Time of murder: 10:15 – 10:45 PM. Murder weapon: A regular semi automatic! He was shot from the back. Bullet pierced through his heart. Distance: about 15 feet. The killer probably fired from somewhere near the gate or garden probably. And then he disappeared into the darkness.” Martin sounded pleased with his deduction.

“Hmm… Then it should have been an outsider or Sunita may be. Everyone else was inside the house. What do you think Gem?” Ramanujam was still staring at the gate when constable Rangasamy came running in. “Saar… we have found it. We have found the murder weapon. It was in the dustbin outside the house.”

“Good work Rangasamy. Send it for finger-prints. I am sure you will not get anything though.” Alex was scratching his head. “But why would he throw the murder weapon there?” Ramanujam’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Well, if he wanted it to be found! What if he could not keep it? What if it belonged to someone in the family? Let us talk to Chander.”

Chander was sulked in a chair staring at the ceiling. Alex took the lead this time. “I am sorry for your loss Chander. Were you close to him?” “Very close. He was the only one in the family who liked me. He used to give me my pocket money. He was not my brother-in-law. He was like a brother to me.” Chander was in tears.

“Did he give you company to your parties?” Alex pushed. “Raghavan.. no way. He wasn’t exactly a chick magnet. He was too loyal to my sister. So much that I felt it was boring. He wouldn’t even drink grape juice fearing it could be wine. Why would God take away such a good man?”

“Did anyone in the house own a pistol?” Ramanujam’s question took Chander by surprise. But he recovered quickly. “Yes. Raghavan did. But it was lost a month ago. We had filed a complaint but was never found.” “I guess it is, now! Is this the one?” Alex showed him the murder weapon. “That is it. Where did you get it?” Chander looked perplexed.

 “Well... It was the one which killed Raghavan. Tell me something. Did it have a silencer too?” Ramanujam interjected.  “Ohh err yes!” Chander’s voice was shaky. “Now why would he have a silencer?” Alex had a frown on his face. Chander was scrambling. “Well... I used to teach him shooting. We practiced in the woods behind our house, mostly in evenings. So we used a silencer to avoid scaring our neighbors and people in nearby huts.” Alex raised his eye brows but Ramanujam quickly ended the conversation. “Don’t worry. We will soon get to the bottom of this.” Ramanujam and Alex slowly walked away talking to each other in whispers.

“Someone stole his pistol just to kill him. Seems like a well planned cold blooded murder. What next, Gem?” There was something that was troubling Ramanujam. “Hmm.. Where was Raghavan coming from?”

“He was returning from work. His close friend and manager Karthik was with him. Raghavan dropped Karthik at his place and then drove back home.” Martin was looking for some recognition for his research. He got none. “Well, I think we now know who to meet next!” Ramanujam looked at Alex who ordered Martin to get the jeep. “Let us stop at the factory for 10 minutes”, added Ramanujam.

Karthik’s house was a big newly built mansion. Karthik’s wife Radhika ushered them in hesitantly but Karthik was composed in greeting them. “Mr.Karthik. Sorry to bother you at this late hour. I guess you would have probably heard about Raghavan.”  Alex was eagerly watching his reaction while Ramanujam was silently observing Radhika.

Karthik didn’t seem to take the bait. “No Inspector. What happened to him?” “He was killed at his residence about 3 hours ago. We heard that he was with you before going home. So we came here to see if you could help us with more details.” Karthik was terrified. “Oh my God. That is so unfortunate. He was my best friend. Who could have done this? I will not leave that bastard!” Radhika was looking a bit tense.

“Calm down Mr.Karthik. We will nab him very soon. How long have you been close friends with Mr.Raghavan?” Ramanujam’s eyes had found something.

“Wait a minute. Are you suspecting me?” Karthik was stuttering now. “Not yet. Don’t make us do that. Just answer our questions, please!” Alex was getting restless. “Well, I am sorry. We have been very close for about a year now.” Karthik glanced at Radhika who turned away.

“And what type of a man was Mr.Raghavan?” Ramanujam’s eyes were still fixed on Radhika.

“Well, he was a gem of a person. He was a very talented and a great leader. He was a very honest and humble. Everyone in the factory loved him. He was the bonding force in his family. Mr.Sundaram loved him so much that he had made Raghavan in charge of all his property instead of his own son Chander. He was...”

“Mr.Karthik. It would be good it you stop wasting our time and tell us the truth.” Even Alex was stunned at Ramanujam’s sudden outbreak. “What do you mean?” Karthik was gasping for air.

“Do we look as if we are fools? You joined the factory as an ordinary worker 2 years ago. We all know it takes 10 years to get to the position of a manager. But you became not only the manager but also Raghavan’s best friend in 2 years. Even someone who has been the manager for 5 years cannot afford your palatial mansion. Explain that to me, would you?” Ramanujam was on fire.

“He was impressed by my work and my ability and… and…” Clearly Karthik was out of words.

“Your wife?” There was a stunned silence in the room. “Come out with it Karthik”, yelled Ramanujam.

“Raghavan was not always a nice man. Before marrying Sunita he was a vagabond and a womanizer. He had tricked Radhika into loving him and then left her for Sunita. At that time, Radhika was pregnant with his child. I married her immediately to save her from embarrassment. Then I used it as leverage against Raghavan. I had dug up his mysterious past and had found quite a few skulls. Raghavan was a smart man and always took good care of me in every sense of the word as he realized I could be a threat to his new found image. Now why would I kill a hen that lays golden eggs for me?” Karthik had gained his composure and was looking Ramanujam in the eye.

“Okay... tell me something. You were with him until almost an hour before he was killed. Did he receive any odd calls or threats during the day? Anything unusual!” Alex interjected.

“Well, no. In fact, he had forgotten his cell phone at home.” Karthik’s statement sent Ramanujam cart-wheeling.

“What?” screamed Ramanujam. He jumped out of his seat. “Thank you very much, Karthik. Alex, come let’s go!” Alex and Martin followed him, perplexed.

“How the hell did you know about his wife?” Alex was still dumbstruck at that master stroke. “Well, I didn’t. But it was worth a shot, wasn’t it?” Ramanujam winked playfully.

“You were guessing! God... you are wicked!” Alex and Martin burst out into laughter. “Well, let us call it: “Instinct”!” corrected Ramanujam.

“Okay whatever. We are getting nowhere. Karthik seems to have no motive either. Could it be Radhika? I think we will have to look at other suspects now. He is a big shot. He could have so many enemies. Where do we start now? There should be some clue somewhere!” Alex seemed very frustrated.

“There is, my friend. There is!” Ramanujam took a moment to look at their awestruck faces. 

                                                                                                                                       - TO BE CONCLUDED

RAMANUGEM CHRONICLES – MURDER AT SUNDARAM VILLA - PART I

(It has always been my dream to write a murder mystery and create my own detective character. So here it is. My first shot at it.)

It was one hell of a night. The clouds were clattering in a relentless thunder, lightning was on the lookout for trees to strike, wind was gushing ferociously and rain was pouring down mercilessly. Ramanujam was battling hard to keep his umbrella from flying into outer space, half cursing his fate that he had to work at this odd hour and half excited about the intriguing prospect of a challenge for his brain that was bored to death due to inactivity. In the mean time, Inspector Alex Pandian had taken stock of the murder in hand at the Sundaram Villa and had surveyed the body and the premises without much success. He was anxiously waiting for Ramanujam, the genius who ironically enjoyed the prospect of a murder!

“Hello Inspector. Seems like it is not going to be Happy Holidays after all!” The inspector’s sleepy eyes lit up as he saw Ramanujam. “Well, I don’t ever remember you having a vacation. They call you Ramanu-gem for a reason.”

“Okay snub. The Case?” Ramanujam was in no mood for any pep talk.

“Murder! Shot dead. Probably an hour ago. No sign of murder weapon. The bullet was found on the ground a few paces away from the body. So was his cell-phone. We’ll know more after the post-mortem and ballistics report. Martin’s on it!” Ramanujam wasn’t impressed. “Who’s the guy and what’s the dope on him?”

“Well, he apparently was a big shot industrialist. I am sure you have heard of Sundaram Textiles.” Alex pointed to the large billboard on the street.

“Yes. My wife takes me there every other week. Who knows this could be some frustrated husband’s doing! So is he Sundaram?” Ramanujam examined the dead body that was being taken out for post mortem.

“Nope, his son-in-law Raghavan. He runs the show now”, retorted Alex, a little stunned by Ramanujam’s ignorance. “Ran!” Ramanujam didn’t miss his opportunity to rub it in.

“Don’t I look irritated enough? Anyways.. Mr.Sundaram is retired now. All he does is to sit in various boards and provide professional advice. That, when he is not writing his autobiography!”

“Hmm... Interesting! Budding entrepreneur murdered at his door-step. Tell me about people in the house!” Ramanujam was assessing the house and the neighborhood.

“Mr.Sundaram has a son and a daughter. His wife is no more. His son Chander is a vagabond who graces various clubs and parties. His daughter Sunita is a renowned social worker. Her husband, Raghavan was a much respected gentleman who managed his father-in-law’s empire very expertly. Well, until someone decided to change the status-quo!”

“Lots of shades in these characters! Or may be lots of shady characters!” Ramanujam chuckled. Alex looked at him curiously. “Are you hinting an inside job?” “Relax Alex. It is dangerous to make assumptions so early. Anyone else in the house?”

“Yeah. There is Ponniah, their servant who has been here forever and then there is Jeniffer. She was apparently a homeless girl who Sunita picked up and brought home. She has been living here for almost 2 years now.”

“Aha! Who saw the body first?” Ramanujam was rolling his eyes.

“Ponniah. He heard Raghavan’s scream and ran to the door. When he opened it, he saw Raghavan on the floor soaked in blood. He died almost immediately.”

“Hmm… he heard the scream but not the gun shot. Silencer perhaps! So he was right at the door but didn’t knock it?” That seemed strange to Ramanujam.

“Someone shot him before he could do that. The killer was hiding somewhere nearby, waiting for him.” Alex’s response wasn’t convincing to Ramanujam. “But why wait here where he could have been easily caught by the inmates. He could have shot him anywhere. The whole area seems pretty deserted! Let us talk to Ponniah.”

Ponniah was crouched on the floor and looked pale with fear. “Ayya. My hands are shivering. Who could have done this dastardly act? Our chinna saar was such a noble heart. The stars are not good for our family these days.” Ramanujam put his arm around his shoulders. “We will catch the culprit Ponniah. Show me around the house, will you?”

“Yes Sir. This here is a small store room near the door. I sleep here in the night. Then you enter into the hall. There you see: the first room is our chinnayya’s: Chander. The bigger room to the right belongs to Sunita and Raghavan. Then you see the kitchen and puja room. The last room is our Sundaram ayya’s study and bedroom. Upstairs we have another room. Jeniffer stays there.”

Ramanujam was surveying the rooms and their arrangement very carefully. “So you saw the body first right? Can you tell me where the others were at the time and the exact order in which they came after they heard your scream?”

“Let me think Sir. The first one to come was Chander as his room was the closest. Sundaram Ayya came next. And finally I saw Jeniffer. Sunita was not in the house at that time. She had gone to her friend’s house.”

Ramanujam scratched his forehead. “Hmm.. No problem with the order. And did you see everyone coming from their rooms?” “I didn’t notice that clearly Saar. But where else could they have come from?” Ramanujam smiled. “Well, we will know in sometime. Tell me about everyone in the family? How were they?” “What to say saar! We were one loving family. Everyone is very close to each other. Our master sometimes had issues with Chander. But he still loved him.”

“Any health problems? Bad habits? Anything worth a mention?”, Alex interrupted to remind his presence. “Everyone in the family took to sports Saar. Our master Sundaram was a state level basket ball player. Sunita is good at badminton. Chander is good at shooting. And Raghavan was a busy bee. So no one had any illnesses. But we are all worried about Chander and his ways. He has gotten into heavy drinking and smoking. And you know: girls too.”

“How about Jeniffer? Does everyone approve of her?” Alex filled in for Ramanujam who was busy screening the family members’ reactions. “Well, initially our Master was against it. But Sunita and Raghavan were very supportive. Now she is almost like another family member Saar.”

“Thank you Ponniah. That was very helpful. Don’t worry. We will nab the culprit soon.” Ramanujam’s words seemed to put Ponniah at ease. He then turned to Alex. “Well my friend.. I am sure you would have done a preliminary inspection. Let me see how good you have gotten! " Alex knew a rapid fire round was coming his way.

“The family members. Any sign of nervousness?”

“Not really.”

“Their mourning?”   

“Seemed genuine.”

“It’s been raining for a while. Was anyone wet?”

“No.”

“Not even Jeniffer? She stays upstairs right! And how about Sunita?”   

“Nope.”

“Umbrellas?” 

“2 dry in the coat stand. 1 wet. Sunita came back in the car. It fits.”

“Well, whose umbrella was wet?”            

“Hmm.. Sunita's! May be it doesn’t fit exactly!”

“Any back entrances to the house?”        

“One. But is locked. Key is with Ponniah. He hasn’t opened it since morning.”

 “Hmm... Smoke?”      

“Ah.. finally you asked the right question! I was dying for one.” 

                                                                                                               - TO BE CONTINUED

CHEEKY CHUCK

It has been a while since I posted something. And after some serious stuff I think a cartoon is long due. Let me introduce you to a new character. He works in a MNC and people call him Cheeky Chuck. He is Mr.Smarty Pants and will outsmart almost anyone with his wise cracks. Here is one such hilarious encounter.

ANATOMY OF A REVOLUTIONARY

According to me, this world is filled with extremists. There are those who practice materialism in its ugly form and go to any and every extent to exploit, manipulate and reduce others in their quest to unlimited wealth and most of the times glory as well. And then there are a select few (a bunch on the verge of extinction) who lead their lives as epitomes of selflessness and fight for all the people who are oppressed or denied their right to live. The world calls them “Revolutionaries”. These demigods normally lead a troubled but fulfilling life and die with no wealth and limited glory but find immortality in the hearts of all the people they touched and healed. And then there we are, caught in the middle, in no man’s land, leading a life of a dream interspersed with ambition. We want the wealth but our conscience comes in the way (hopefully) when it comes to exploiting others. We dream to be a messiah and fight for a cause but we lack the temerity, discipline and will to give ourselves up. Some people call it normal life; others ordinary!

We don’t have to look hard for the first type; ironically they are well documented and celebrated and for the third type, we only have to look inward. But what does a revolutionary look like? Well, pretty much like you and me, a little thinner and beaten down may be but not necessarily! He (or she) may be less educated than us but certainly more learned; most certainly well read with an eclectic passion for poetry; a consciousness driven more by moral values than materialistic incentives. He wears restlessness and anger on his sleeve and he fears death as much as we do though for different reasons. But there is just one thing that really defines a revolutionary: Love. It may sound ridiculous but it is the love and compassion for a fellow human being that makes a man fight. And he would most certainly have an insatiable hunger to explore the world which gives him a whole new perspective of life and wakes him up to the injustice around. A revolutionary would have most certainly seen the world before the world sees him!  

Until a week ago, the only thing I knew about Che Guevara was that he was an important figure in the Cuban revolution and the only image I had was a stylized visage from a famous photograph that can be seen everywhere worn as T-shirts by youngsters. I am not sure how many of them know his fascinating story, but I sure didn’t. And a small peek into his life tells you what a revolutionary is. But to me the story of how he became one is even more fascinating because it is not about heroic feats but about 2 lives with similar aspirations and dreams running in parallel for a while and how one metamorphoses into the other. Born in a well off and respectable family in Argentina, Ernesto Guevara was an intellectual right from his early days with great passion for poetry, literature and sport. He studied medicine and his hunger to explore the continent he had only known in books took him on an 8000 kilometer journey through Argentina, Chile, Peru, Ecuador, Columbia, Venezuela and Panama that would fundamentally change how he viewed himself and Latin America.

Filled with restlessness and an impassioned spirit, fueled by love for the open road, accompanied by his best friend Alberto Marrero and an old motorcycle that peed oil, Ernesto embarks on a journey that would take him to the farthest reaches of human spirit. In Chile he has his first tryst with a patient when he abandons his date to examine an old lady and feels completely powerless as he sees a plea of forgiveness and solace in her dying eyes. Then he finds himself enraged by the working conditions of the miners in Anaconda copper mine. His overnight encounter with a persecuted communist couple in the Atacama Desert brings him face to face with flesh-and-blood victims of capitalist exploitation. In that cold night, amidst those tragic and haunting faces he starts to feel closer to the strange human race. The deeper he goes into the Andes Mountains, the more indigenous people he encounters who are homeless in their own land. Here the crushing poverty of the peasant farmers who worked small plots of land owned by wealthy landlords takes a heavy toll on him.

The world has already changed in his eyes when he and Alberto arrive at the San Pablo leper colony in Peru on the banks of the Amazon River. About 600 patients live on the South of the river while doctors and caretakers live in the North side. The segregation pains him. He and Alberto refuse to wear gloves and shake hands with patients who call them “real men”. He coaxes a young patient who has lost hope into operation by saying: “You have to fight for every breath and tell death to go to hell”. He sings and dances with them, plays football and literally lives with them. Their camaraderie and spirit make him wonder how the highest forms of human solidarity and loyalty arise and persist among such lonely and desperate people. On the day before they are supposed to move on with their journey, his birthday is celebrated on the North side. He decides that he has to celebrate it with the patients and not finding a boat, just swims across the Amazon fighting bouts of asthma, and lands in the arms of his loving patients. It was then he knew where he belonged. The journey went on, after hugs and an emotional good bye, but something changed inside him that day. 

That journey brought Ernesto in close contact with poverty, hunger, disease, injustice and inequality. He witnessed the inability of a father to treat a child because of lack of money and was pained by stupefaction provoked by the continual hunger and punishment that led the same father to accept the loss of a son as an unimportant accident. It was this journey that convinced him that in order to help these people, he needed to leave the realm of medicine, and consider the political arena of armed struggle. And this journey eventually kick started the journey of Che who would go on to change the way the world viewed Latin America. From that moment onward, every man or woman who trembled with indignation at injustice became his comrade!

SERIAL KILLER

Bhanumathi felt a strange emptiness. It felt she was done with life. It didn’t make her sad, but she wondered if life was always going to be peaceful and boring hereafter. She thought she better get used to it. There would be no more crazy mornings, rush hour traffic or piles of files on her desk waiting for her autograph. No more doctors, businessmen, contractors and elite from all walks of life waiting to talk to her outside her office and no more funny meetings with MLAs and ministers. And more than all that she will miss her peon Subbiah getting her hot bajjis and tea for her every afternoon. She thought: No more fun! It was her first day of retired life. She was no more the Collector of Coimbatore!

Ramamurthy was perched gingerly on the sofa and was peering laboriously into the sports page with his fat spectacles. The Indian cricket team hadn’t exactly made him proud. He was also grumpy this morning because his filter coffee was late by an hour. He was worried it would affect his biological cycle. Bhanumathi ignored him as she sauntered to the kitchen and started to brew fresh decoction. Ramamurthy ambled in, intoxicated by the mystic aroma. Bhanumathi gave him a stare and he went back and hid himself behind the sports column again. For the first time in years, they sat on the verandah, legs outstretched, sipping fresh coffee and watching passers by with the amusement of a new born. She felt that life was not that bad actually.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Ramiah the post man. “Letter for you amma!”

“Are they calling you back?” chuckled Ramamurthy.

Bhanumathi ripped open the letter with a restless curiosity. It was from Mrs. Anjani Dutta, her best friend and mentor who was the former Collector and now happily retired in Calcutta. Her eyes lit up with a fiendish glare as she read the letter.

“Dear Bhanu,

Hello my dearest Collector amma (oops... did I miss an ex?) I have been waiting for this day for nearly 2 months now. Remember the “retirement mourning party” you hosted for me. It is my turn to rub some salt! As you welcome emptiness into your life, I am going to help you do some soul searching to find creative ways of killing time. As cruel as irony is, you will very soon be introduced and sucked into the world of television soaps! Add Ramamurthy’s 24/7 cricket to that and I can’t help wonder how much torture will you be able to endure!

Oh poor thing! How are you going to survive that bad bad world of the blood sucking saas and the revenge seeking bahu? How are you going to keep track of the innumerous characters and their complex relationships as they engulf the TV screen and your mind without leaving an aorta of space? How will you tell the great great grandmother from the great grandmother? I will throw a tip at you here. Look at their hair. The one with snow white hair is “The Great Great” and the one with a single strand of black hair (you have to look very carefully) is “The Great”. And then it gets easier as you can keep track of the other “Maa”s and “Baa”s by the different stages of their black hair-dyes.

Relationships though are a totally different beast. You see it depends on a lot of factors like the whim of the director, the availability of actors and the creativity (or more so the lack of it) of the writer. So don’t freak out when you see a guy getting married 6 times or if the leading lady’s husband changed from last week. You see even “Baa”s switch husbands as veteran actors too are busy and the show must still go on. And if you suddenly wonder why the story is going completely off track, the star vamp lady would have probably gone on maternity leave.

Oh no... I see another problem. You are such an impatient brat. You cannot even wait for the decoction to brew at leisure and you will keep tapping the filter on its head. How are you going to watch a seriously funny argument take place over a whole week or a silly marriage that spans at least 2 month?  Here is a solution for that too. Pick 4 serials but don’t watch them daily! Watch them on alternate days and trust me you can easily follow the story. And guess what, you should form focus groups with your neighbors and you can predict what will happen next week. It is an amazing “feel good” exercise as you will realize how much more intelligent you are than that celebrity director!

Jokes apart... There is really a serial that is a class apart from the others and that which I have been watching ever since I retired. It is called “Kyunki Saas Abhi Bhi Bahu Hai” and trust me there is no retirement for or from this one! I am sure my letter would have partially killed your appetite for these small screen gems. But I don’t want you to completely miss this once in (and for) a lifetime experience. So once you have had your share of fun and frolic, you should pay me a visit so that I can share more pearls of wisdom with you. Hoping to see you soon! 

With love

Anjani.”

Suddenly her entire future ramp walked in front of Bhanu’s eyes shedding gloomy tears of a slow death. She felt a sudden rush and frantic need for some bustle. She stormed into the living room where Ramamurthy was sitting on the edge of the sofa, his body moving towards the TV at 0.01 miles per year. “What happened to that Europe tour you were talking about?” she asked matter-of-fact-ly!

“What Euro…” Ramamurthy looked bamboozled like he had just swallowed a dead duck!

“Stop watching that stupid match and for once make yourself useful! I don’t want to die in front of a television.”

SEVEN YEARS IN TIBET

There is a scene in the movie where a small boy we all now know as the 14^th Dalai Lama asks his close friend and tutor Hienrich Harrer: “Do you think some day people will look at Tibet on the movie screen and wonder what happened to us!” It was a moment of truth that evoked a deep pain in my heart. The inescapable truth that a civilization is slowly being wiped out of the face of the earth slowly dawned on me. I generally don’t think of writing about something until it disturbs me enough and I felt that this masterpiece which projects humanity through the lives of two very distinct individuals deserves to be celebrated.

Make no mistake. This movie is not about Dalai Lama or the Tibetan race. The movie is about Hienrich Harrer, an arrogant, cocky, self-absorbed Third Reich Poster boy and a star Austrian mountain climber who sets out to conquer the Nanga Parbat, the unclimbed mountain in the Himalayas and leaves behind a very pregnant wife in a selfish quest of singular glory. This movie is about his transformation from being a self centered egoist to a human being with genuine love and compassion and the enlightenment of simplicity.

Hienrich Harrer is a loner by choice, superiority is his only code as he fails to coexist in the expedition which is ended by bad weather and further marred by the World War as the climbers are taken as prisoners in British India. He slowly sheds his outer layer of stoic arrogance as the memory of his now new born son keeps haunting him. We see the first glimpse of his ego’s downfall in jail when he receives divorce papers from his wife. There is a terrifying scene in which Harrer repeatedly throws himself onto the barb-wired fence as a self-inflicted punishment for his self-inflicted agony.  

Harrer eventually manages to escape prison along with the captain of the expedition Peter Aufschnitter and a riveting tale of their friendship ensues. Together they wander endlessly across the towering mountains for years, seeking refuge and finding none, fleeing bandits, eating their own horses, trading their costly accessories for handful of food, inhaling the springs, battling death like cold in winter and finally landing in Lhasa with the help of a first aid instruction paper disguised as some special entry permit. The kingdom that is closed to foreigners welcomes them with outstretched hands and scripts the most wonderful chapter of their lives.

The seven years in Tibet is not just for Hienrich and Peter but we too live and breathe Tibet along with them and immerse ourselves in their wonderful tradition and culture. The roof of the world, Tibet, is most intriguing and at the same time most isolated. Its civilization, though medieval in nature, is one with a golden heart and unlike any other. A civilization that doesn’t stand a chance against any other in terms of prosperity, wealth or sophistication but has more peace, compassion and simplicity than the entire world put together.

The old lady who takes care of Harrer, the workers who refuse to work on a land fearing that they will hurt the worms in the soil, the minister who asks nonchalantly if one needs a reason for a good deed when questioned on his reason for giving refuge to these two foreigners and the young Dalai Lama who shows wisdom and character way beyond his age when he stands up to the Chinese Generals, refuses to leave his people behind and persuades Harrer to go back to his son, are all representatives of this spectacularly unique race. And when the Chinese invade Tibet, we are witness to the heart wrenching spectacle of a peace loving country vainly attempting to create a military of about a 1000 men to battle millions of Chinese troops. It pricks your heart to see a Tibetan soldier firing an arrow at a Chinese who shoots him with a machine gun. It is indeed a culture like no other and its loss is not just a loss for humanity but a loss of humanity.

There are some refreshingly funny scenes too as the two guys come alive at the first sight of a woman after spending years of dry and dead life. The scene where they sheepishly cringe when she measures them up for stitching their suits, their game of one-upmanship to impress her, Harrer’s ingenious idea of ripping his coat pocket to find an excuse to visit her again only to see Peter already there getting his pant mended and the ice skating lessons where Hienrich realizes that Peter is her man will all make you smile with abandon.

But at the same time you will always feel a strange undercurrent that reminds us of the uniqueness of the Tibetan civilization. The scene where Hienrich shows off to the seamstress describing in detail every glory that he has achieved is my second favorite one just for sheer genius and profundity of her response. “This is the difference between our civilizations. You admire the man who pushes his way to the top in any walk of life while we admire the man who abandons his ego!”

The scenes between Hienrich Harrer and little Dalai Lama are simply mesmerizing and define the new Hienrich Harrer. The intimate and playful relationship they share slowly grows into a love that is soulful, spiritual and filial. The scene where Harrer tells him about the absolute simplicity in climbing mountains which fills him with the deep powerful presence of life is as brilliant as the final one when little Dalai Lama tells Harrer that he was much too informal to be his father and asks him to go back to his son. Harrer, who left a son to conquer the Himalayas, conquers himself with the help of a son in Tibet who he finally leaves to go back to the son he left. This brilliant movie showcases the remarkable transformation of Hienrich Harrer and gives us a glimpse of an extraordinary civilization and its greatest spiritual leader through Harrer’s eyes.

TWO TO TANGO

Chamak Bazaar was living up to its reputation, hustling and slithering with a shimmering daze. It was rush hour at Rownak street as shop keepers were in full bustle, yelling at the top of their voices, wooing customers with an intensity that would put modern day Romeo to shame and wandering into la-la-land for a split second as they heard the cash register ring as they closed yet another deal. Mr. Sloppy Pants was seriously not in sync with the festive mood out there. He almost toppled an apple cart, banged into a flower woman narrowly missing her hand print on his face, kicked a poor dog with a broken leg and haggled over a pumpkin with the vegetable vendor who got so irritated that he gave it for free to the lucky bystander.

Dhanraj was watching all this with amusement and curiosity in equal measure. He was particularly interested in Mr. Sloppy Pants who was wreaking havoc in the market place. Dhanraj was a master at the art of shadowing. He knew exactly how much distance to keep, how to be a nobody in a crowd and how to watch his prey from different strategic locations before moving in for the kill. But most importantly he had an eye for detail and he was adept at picking his moment. He was the smoothest operator around and was known as “Makhan Chikna” in elite circles. His eyes never missed a fat catch and the moment he saw Mr. Sloppy Pants, he knew he was in for a feast.

He didn’t have to wait long for the stars and planets to align in euphoric symphony to present the opportune moment. At exactly 6:00 PM, the church gong reverberated, birds and pigeons went helter skelter, Girdharilal pawn broker brought his shutter down with a menacing thud, Bansi whose white shirt had turned designer thanks to Mr. Sloppy Pants’ Banarasi paan was ready to land a knock out punch while Dhanraj effortlessly snitched Sloppy's fancy pocket as the poor dog barked in celebration of a poetic justice of some sort.  Dhanraj was off in a flash and while Mr. Sloppy Pants was still negotiating the furious Bansi, he had gotten off Rownak street, hopped 4 narrow lanes and had casually settled near the small pond beside the village school.

Dhanraj never went home immediately after the act. He was a pro and he knew better. He always stopped at a vantage point, surveyed his loot, pocketed the valuables and then dumped the rest into a well, garbage can or the pond. And then many a time he would walk back to the same place in search of a new target. This time though, he was rather disappointed to find only 15 rupees in the wallet. He was cursing his luck and was about to fling it into the pond when he noticed a sparkle in the wallet’s front pouch. He ripped it open and for a moment his mind was in a transfixed daze. There was a small golden ring shimmering in shy radiance. His heart was beating so fast he had to clasp it from popping out. But then something strange happened and he was struck by an emotion that was hitherto alien to him. It was an engagement ring and at that damn moment he had managed to think of Ratna. Something changed inside him!

It was past 10 o’clock in the night and Ratna was starting to get panicky. Dhanraj was never this late and she could not wait anymore to tell him the good news. But she soon realized she had bad news coming her way through Munna. She ran to the Rownak Nagar police station as fast as she could. After an hour long conversation with the inspector interspersed with constant buttering and persuasion, Ratna was ushered into Dhanraj’s cell.

“What in the name of God happened to you?” she was clasping her hands in utter disbelief. “Is this the Makhan Chikna who had never been caught in the act since he stole butter at the age of 7!”

“It is all your fault! You messed up my upper compartment.” His smile came back as he saw her and he told the entire story. She burst out into a fit of laughter that woke up the hawaldar who was dreaming of his Chammak Challo. “You actually went to put the wallet back into his pocket. You were the one who told me we should isolate every feeling of ours when we are on the job.”

He scratched his head in embarrassment. “I know. But it was an engagement ring and I don’t know what possessed me for a moment and I thought of you and the wedding ring I was never able to give you.”

There was a moment of silence as they looked at each other. Tears rolled down her eyes. “Shut up! Have I ever complained about that? You deserved those punches on your face from Mr. Sloppy Pants!” He laughed and held her hand softly.

She slapped him gently. “You idiot! That fellow is not getting engaged or married. I have never seen such a low and mean person like your Sloppy Pants.”

“What! How the hell do you know him?” Dhanraj looked baffled.

“Because I had seen that duffer in Kinara Ganj where I have been fishing for the last 2 months. He first came to the lady’s house and they had a big spat. Apparently he is a rich Seth who has been loafing around with quite a few women. In the end he slapped her and he took out the ring he had given her, spat on her house door and walked off mouthing obscenities by the dozen. I had been shadowing him for a while but I could never get too close to him and he left in a hurry!”

Dhanraj felt like an idiot. “Oh God.. All this for nothing! Damn my luck!” He banged his head on the wall.

“Okay.. now don’t put up an act here. The story doesn’t end there. I was walking back home today at about 8 when I saw Mr. Sloppy Pants sipping his coconut water at Ramu kaka’s shop. And this time I seized my moment. I went close to the shop and then slipped and went down with my basket. Mr. Sloppy Pants rushed to help in a flash and I managed to whisk his wallet with precision even you would be proud off.” Ratna was standing there with a broad smile on her face and the glimmering ring in her hand. Dhanraj jumped in the air and hoisted her above his head. Hawaldar woke up again even more irritated as it was Chikni Chameli in his dreams this time.

“You are a genius Ratna. You see.. All that training has to come to fruition after all. Wait till I get out. I am sure we will get shit loads of money for this one. If only I can get out soon enough…” Dhanraj paced around with excitement and despair.

Ratna was unperturbed. “That’s been arranged for as well. The inspector’s house falls in Kinara Ganj and he has seen me a few times. You see he has a thing for me and that was all I needed to work your release. And of course a fat commission too which we can quite easily afford. Now you will have to wait until tomorrow evening and I will get you out of here.” He was mighty impressed.

“You see I have a few Aces up my sleeve.” She chuckled.

“That I can see. I hope I am your only King!” He gave a wry and jealous smile!

She gave a sly laugh back. “Are you kidding me? You are a jack(ass)!”

“And one more thing! You are good at picking pockets, not the other way around. So you better stick to it.” She patted him lovingly on his head as she messed up his hair playfully.

                                                                                                                             - A SHORT STORY BY RAJ

WHAT WE ARE

“ZEPHYR” is a name that needs no introduction and “CYBERNAG” is a blog that would fascinate and stimulate you beyond description. She is a brilliant writer who blogs on a variety of pressing yet common place issues that anyone can identify with. And she paints such a vivid picture that everything comes alive in front of your eyes. You will get to live and feel the issue and her thoughts breathe fresh air into our minds. I have not seen anyone write about social issues so comprehensively and insight-fully with a unique and strong perspective. On other occasions, she transcends down the memory lane rekindling nostalgic memories in a way we all relate to and feel related to as they are so relevant in every household. And all along the journey she makes you laugh, cry, smile, reminisce and celebrate along with her.

So I was really thrilled at the opportunity to write a blog post for her. It was indeed a privilege and honor. Thank you very much Zephyr. And what I chose to write about is the simple but magical reason of our existence: two souls who had no idea what they were getting into!

“Life is something that fascinates us in every dimension: physical, spiritual, philosophical and biological. Life may have been created by God or Science and evolved by chance or by design. But our life and the world as we know, is designed by two individuals who meet by chance. They introduce us to the world and they are our world until we develop wings and set out to shape our destinies. We do not see them become the man and woman they are, firsthand, but somewhere between our ears, heart and brain, we know it all. There is an invisible life thread inside us that is interwoven with their fabric that helps us document their lives into us and establishes a psychedelic connect beyond cognition. Their lives are biographies that portray how our lives would have been in a different era. We come to know us as them!”

Read the entire article at: http://cybernag.in/2012/03/what-we-are/

WAVES OF PERIL

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and I was rolling in the bed vetoing a 1 hour long debate about getting up or not. Suddenly I heard a knock on the door. I ignored it to be a dream as no one ever knocks my door but the knocking was persistent. I sauntered towards the door and opened it with my eyes and brain refusing to embrace the sad truth that I had actually woken up. And then I saw a man who looked faintly familiar but scary enough to give me the impression that he just walked out of a grave. His hair was long and shabby, his beard must at least be 6 months old and his fashion quotient would evoke the envy of a beggar. Lo behold! It was Professor Eisenkleiftovich. I jumped in joy as I was seeing him after I don’t know how long: eternity probably.

Me: What on earth happened to you Professor? You look terrible. Where were you all this while?

Prof: I was in Taiji and I nearly got myself killed.

Me: Taiji. That’s in Japan right. What were you doing there?

Prof: Yes. I was watching dolphins there.

Me: Why would anyone kill you for watching dolphins?

Prof: I was watching them die.

A shock wave went through me as I floundered for words. His eyes were unperturbed.

Prof: Tell me this. When you sit in that Sea World gallery and see a dolphin splitting the waters and soaring into the sky as it throws in a couple of somersaults on its way back, what do you feel? What goes through your mind when it comes near you and looks in your eye, beams at you and rubs its nose against yours?

Me: I feel elated and out of the world. I can see its happiness and love for us and the deep connect it shares with humans. Most of all, I am awed by its intelligence.

 

Prof: Well, I would certainly agree to your last statement. But you know what; a dolphin’s smile is nature’s greatest deception.

Me: Why do you say that? What is the problem with its smile?

Prof: That’s my point. When a dolphin is jumping and smiling, it is hard to see the problem. Dolphins are acoustic creatures and sound is their primary sense. The most advanced sonar ever build by humans is no match to the dolphin. It can scan and tell if one is pregnant in a minute. Such is its sensitivity to sound. Now you capture it and thrust it into a concrete tank and then you add a gallery full of screaming people to the agony. That dolphin that swims to you with a sweet smile and jumps to your whim and fancy is enduring extreme levels of stress at that very moment and eventually the stress kills it.

Me: I never knew that there is so much desperation behind that innocent smile. I hate you Professor. I will never be able to go to Sea World again. But you didn’t tell why you went to Taiji?

Prof: Taiji is a small town with a big secret. It is the largest supplier of dolphins to marine parks across the world. And do you know how they catch them?

Me: I guess I don’t want to know. But you will tell me anyways, right. So go ahead.

Prof: The fishermen wait in their boats along the migratory routes of dolphins, immerse long poles with a flange on the bottom and bang on the poles with hammers essentially creating a wall of sound to terrify the dolphins. They swim for their lives to the shores of Taiji and they reach the lagoons, shocked, stressed and freaked out, where they are sealed off into captivity. The next day dolphin trainers from around the world line up to select their Bottlenose Bobs. Each dolphin sells up to $150,000. Now that’s a lot of money!

Me: That is so atrocious. No wonder it is a multi billion dollar industry now. How heartless have we become?

Prof: Wait a minute. You haven’t even heard what happens to the dolphins that are not selected by the trainers?

I was almost about to shut my ears off as I could sense what was coming.

Prof: They are slaughtered; not killed; slaughtered and sold for their meat. They are taken around to a remote glistening cove where no one has access to and the fishermen kill them with their spears mercilessly. Well, you may ask me, what’s the big deal? We kill all sorts of animals for food. So why this hoopla about the dolphin? I am not saying man should not be carnivorous. Many animals are, and it is their choice. But show me people in this world who want to eat dolphin meat, can you?

Me: They don’t? Then why this heinous killing? I don’t understand.

Prof: Well, there are very few people in the world who eat dolphin meat by choice. The fishermen though, label it is as expensive whale meat or in some other form of disguise. If they label it as dolphin meat, they won’t find any takers. And the reason for that is dolphin meat is heavily laced with mercury which is highly toxic and lethal to our health.

Me: So just for a few extra bucks, these fishermen are not just killing the poor animal but also endangering a human’s life. Why can’t they just leave them alone!

Prof: You see man is the weirdest paradox that has ever walked the earth. We all have this desire to watch them, swim with them, hug them, kiss them, hold them and love them to death. And this endless desire is the ticket to their death and misery. Some people love and kill them while others love to kill them. You told me that you are awed by its intelligence. But don’t we always associate intelligence with humans and some aliens living in some far off wonderland we will never get to. Now, when you understand this non human intelligence of the dolphins, you will realize that they don’t really belong in captivity.

God had created a perfect universe: until he made man. And from that day on, God has never looked into the mirror.

P.S: About 23,000 dolphins are being killed in Japan every year. To learn more visit http://www.takepart.com/cove. And to witness the poor plight of the dolphins and the nefarious crime that goes on unnoticed, watch this documentary: http://topdocumentaryfilms.com/cove/