Posted in General

Keep wearing the masks!!

“Civilization is the process of setting man free from men.”

A few months ago, there were rumors in my town about a guy, an alleged Psycho, who was attacking and robbing old people in their houses. Before going into that, let me tell you a little about my home town. It has a population of around 1.5 lakhs and is pretty much self-sufficient. The lands are fertile with very good irrigation facilities. Also, like most little towns like this, Tenali is never in the news. I mean, no big events usually take place here. People are well adjusted to the amount of mediocrity present. So, when a guy started attacking people mysteriously, it was no wonder he became an overnight celebrity. In the coming days, all that people talked about was about the Psycho. From my friend’s 2 year old niece to my 80 year old grandfather, people talked about it and naturally like in any other such situation, truth got diluted and stories were in circulation. Every homeless person if dressed shabbily is feared to be the Psycho. There were instances where people even beat up a couple of drunken rickshaw pullers. Even the slightest abnormal activity was assumed to be caused by the Psycho. The authorities even thought that there was an entire gang, considering the number of such stories popping up every day. While the fact remained that only a handful of robberies took place and a few people were injured with a pocket knife, people on the other hand began to believe that he killed at least half a dozen people. Adding to this is a little flavor from the television news channels and local newspapers. That is perhaps the first time people even knew there was a local news program on a channel called “Siti Channel”

To see what it actually looked like, do watch this video : TV9 

Why am I talking about something that happened almost a year ago? Well, that issue is not what I really want to talk about. A couple of weeks after that, a man was killed by a mob (like the one in the video, flashing sticks and smiling at the camera) who assumed that he was the psycho. Obviously, it turned out that he was not the person the police were looking for and since it was a mob that did it and the man was a poor homeless person, no one had to face any legal action. Weeks passed and people forgot. Forgot about the psycho, the town was not in news anymore and I guess I might be the only one who still remembers the killing of that particular old man.

But why do I still remember it? That particular incident showed me clearly that behind all the masks that people wear, we are still animals. Animals that can act upon nothing more than pure hysteria and can apply no rationality. Now if we calmly wear the masks and question ourselves, who is to take responsibility for his death? Perhaps all those people who kept talking about it, without realizing the kind of fear that they are instilling among the crowds even after repeated requests from the authorities; or perhaps the news channels for propagating the fear; or people like me who did nothing. News channels can be blamed and we can be proved innocent but is that the real picture? Aren’t we going to take responsibility? Or since there is no one to come before the camera and question, does his life have no value? Beneath the masks that we wear, aren’t we a bunch of hypocrites. I understood a clear double standard. Why is it that whenever there are events regarding corruption, exploitation, terrorism, rape and such, we will first identify ourselves with the victims and protest in anger against the authorities or seek justice by killing the culprits? Why don’t we take responsibility for the flaws as a part of the society? may be because the crimes are committed by some other individuals and not by us. Pretty convenient eh? Don’t we even have a slightest responsibility to at least wait and introspect? I’m only generalizing because with the new public participation boom, everybody can now voice their opinions and the kind of statements people make is scary to say the least.

But this is however just the face of the issue. The evil hidden behind is the real monster. As always, time passed by and I moved on. A few months later there was the killing of Gaddafi in Libya. People were literally beating him to death on the streets and since he is claimed to be a vicious ruler, they believed they had the right and yes, they celebrated. They danced around his corpse and made merry. Watching those clippings, I wasn’t sure who is scarier. At that moment I thought if I was faced with that mob, I wouldn’t have hesitated to run and hide behind Gaddafi. It was that scary.

And then we have our very own, hanging of Kasab. People spoke about hanging him public, shooting him on live television and such. I do not want to go into the debate of he got what he deserved, capital punishment and its implications because I see a bigger monster than that; the people. The kind of things that we can say and do were not only disturbing but scary. I read a number of articles in newspapers trying to understand different versions of the story. I also tried to follow the views of people on social networking sites. There was a guy demanding to see Kasab being shot in the public while everybody is watching. He also wanted it to be telecasted live on television. He wasn’t some uneducated person with no decency. He was an IT professional working for an MNC, perhaps grew up with a lot of care and affection from his parents. Do not misunderstand me. It is not a matter of an individual seeking justice. It is a matter of decency in the society that we live in. The kind of society we want the future generations to grow up in. Another gentleman claimed that it was the real Deepawali. It was really sad to read things like that especially coming from the so called working section of the society, people who vote, people who will have families soon and raise their own children. I believe those festivals are symbols of the victory of good over evil. People celebrated because evil was eradicated and peace and tranquillity (Loka Kalyanam) was brought to the land. Nothing of that kind happened here. If at all, we let out a lot more hate and showed our ugly faces to the next generations.

Even in personal life we learn through experiences that decisions we take when we are emotional won’t usually go the way we hope. That is precisely why they say Don’t promise when you’re happy, Do not reply when you’re angry and do not decide when you’re sad. During the state of this “hysteria” people say and mean, unimaginable and inhuman things. Perhaps that is state in which people commit crimes in the first place. Driven by different motives but inhumane, all of them.

 

Isn’t this blind hysteria? Something that is driven by nothing but rage and outburst of anger? Isn’t this a classic example of taking off the masks and revealing our ugly faces? Kind of what happened in my home town. Why talk about just the Delhi case while people around us facing with similar threats? Even in today’s paper, there were three different rape cases reported. There is no denying that justice should be served, at least to the victims and yes, measure should be taken to minimize if not completely eradicate cruel incidents like these. Should fear really be the way we seek to bring a change in the society? Isn’t that what had happened so far? Isn’t that exactly what religion has done and is still doing? Propagate morals through fear. Where did that bring us?

It is scary to imagine what we can bring ourselves to do. Triggered by hysteria, fueled by mob mentality that we all have, a little pinch of salt from the mass media, we take off our masks and show that deep within, we are still animals. Very barbaric animals. It should be understood that in a world where there are so many diversities in all aspects, it is not just difficult but sadly unfortunate to bring absolute order. History’s greatest tyrants have tried and failed. There will always be incidents that fuel public anger and sadly we all react the way we always do. Demand capital punishment for a few days and then forget. Horrible things keep on happening no matter what. When they happen, there are constructive ways to try help and really make a difference. Blind hatred is never the way. That is not what Gandhi did and even while disagreeing with the Mahatma on certain issues, that is not what Ambedkar did. We are people. Human beings. Let us at least try and give the next generation a better place to live and grow so that they know what to give their offspring.  Whether we have the moral right to question the authorities is one thing and since we will anyway forget the issue and move on with our lives, let us try and not show this ugly side. At least for our children’s sake. It is no doubt disturbing and heart breaking to even try and imagine the kind the pain the victims face. Let us take responsibility for once. Let us not propagate fear. Let us help the authorities by being better citizens. Let us try and mourn for the victims in silence. Let us pray for their recovery. Let us help them survive if we can. Let us thank our loved ones and hold them a little tighter. Let us love a little more. If we cannot do any of these, Let us at least keep wearing the masks!!

P.s.. Before leaving, do watch this video: Sunshine Vali Asha Smile and help in building a better tomorrow 😀

Posted in General

Sorry Hindu, you got this one wrong!!

I have always been a fan and an avid reader of the The Hindu. It is perhaps the only news source that seems to protect my sanity in times like these. I’d be exaggerating if I say that I read the entire thing but yes, I make it a point that I go through the entire paper and make sure I read all news that make sense to me and yeah the su-do-ku too. Also, their recent media campaigns taking a dig at a rival making them look stupid are things that I thoroughly enjoyed that and when they came out with yet another video recently, I was sure it is going to be impressive. To be entirely fair, my initial reaction was like

“Hahaha… you always know how to do this Hindu.”

I even shared the link on my Facebook profile. But it took time for me to realize that it was not at all what it seemed to be and indeed, Hindu missed it this time.

In case you haven’t watched the video, here it is: Click Here

(As this is a free blog, I cannot share videos directly, so just use the link)

The video shows a bunch of college students displaying their “parliamentary” behavior in the classroom. While this seems funny and appears to have made a point, all that it has done is project the Indian politician in a bad light. More importantly, it gave an opportunity of an average Indian youth (like always) to escape the light and not take responsibility for his/her actions. There is no denying that youth at times can turn violent and display actions as such, but we should honestly ask ourselves if that have anything to do with the actions of the members of the parliament? Should they be blamed and targeted for things that we do? We need to discuss more.

But we do fight don’t we? We fight when there is a collision of vehicles even when it’s just a tiny scratch. We raise our voice if the waiter gets our order wrong. We tend to offend people of other religions and caste when they do the same to us. We protest out of love for the region that we live in. We argue supporting our favorite film actor. We plan on taking revenge when a beloved person cheats on us. But do we plan on taking responsibility? I guess not. Does this behavior have anything to do with what we (might) have learnt by watching the Parliamentary sessions? Firstly, do we ever watch the Parliamentary sessions? Something to think about.

How many of us have sufficient knowledge on the politics of our country, at least to have an opinion on an issue? By opinion, I mean something that you can stand for after the prejudice subsides and rationality uncovers. Do we properly know how many seats are there in the LokSabha? Do we know how many people gets elected to the Parliament (both the houses) from our state? It is very good if you do but if you don’t, I know this idea can very well be refuted by an argument that not everyone knows the political structure and I have nothing to say to you. However, I do agree that it is healthy in a democracy to have criticism and more importantly it is necessary in a sad world to have a good sense of humor for laughing at others and at ourselves too. But where do we stop and judge. For example, we make so many jokes about the Prime Minister being silent all the time and never opening his mouth. But did we listen when he gave an elaborate explanation in the parliament regarding the coal block allocations?  Not many I suppose. Just because a national leader is not outspoken doesn’t necessarily mean that he/she is inefficient.

Just to make it clear, I am not supporting anybody here. After watching what The Hindu wanted to show, I felt kind of bad for the Indian politician. After all, he/she is elected through a democratic process and more importantly, he is called a “representative” for a reason. One may argue stating the malfunctions in the electoral procedures but one cannot deny completely that at the end of the day, those selected group of individuals are sitting in the Loksabha because all the eligible people of this country elected them by procedures prescribed by the constitution. So, if there is anybody to take the blame, it is the people. More importantly, isn’t there a need to ask ourselves whether we have the moral right to criticize them?? If there is anything we can do, we should vote them out of power.

The general notion that all politicians are evil is not at all healthy in a democratic country. Over the decades, this idea has become stronger thanks to every movie where a politician is the villain and every one fighting against him is the hero. This is the same reason why Aseem Trivedi (a YOUTH mind you) was projected as hero when he insulted our national emblem while “fighting” against corruption. While it is understandable that he did not take into consideration the history of the symbol and what it stood for, what did he do with the popularity he got? He tried his luck in the Big Boss-6 reality show. That is why, rallying behind anybody who seem to be against the “system” is not a good idea.

In a nutshell, all I wanted to say is, while trying to send a message to the political leaders of the country through a media campaign, The Hindu forgot that it is the youth that needs to be addressed and not just the politicians. The campaign would’ve made more sense if it was “Youth of the nation, Behave yourselves- You are the future.” And as for the campaign itself, though your idea of taking care of the youth is appreciable, it is not correct to blame the Parliamentarians and Sorry Hindu, you got his one wrong.

P.s. In case you didn’t notice, I considered myself a youth here and I hope there is nothing wrong in that. 😛

Posted in General

For a few more smiles!!

“The eyes of fear want you to put bigger locks on your doors, buy guns, close yourself off. The eyes of love instead see all of us as one. Here’s what we can do to change the world, right now, to a better ride. Take all that money we spend on weapons and defenses each year and instead spend it feeding and clothing and educating the poor of the world, which it would pay for many times over, not one human being excluded, and we could explore space, together, both inner and outer, forever, in peace.”                                                

– Bill Hicks

Sometimes we find it very difficult to get certain things out of our minds. It is one of those days for me. I was greeted by a very disturbing, yet powerful article in today’s newspaper as soon as I woke up. The story of a 14 year old girl who was attacked by the Taliban simply because she had dreams like everybody else. There is no need for an ethical dilemma here and anybody who claims to be a human being will feel bad for her and I was no different either. While it is indeed a horrible thing to happen considering the age of the little girl, things like this are sadly not something new in this god forsaken world. While I am at it, let me talk about faith as well. History has time and again proved that extremist ideologies have always caused mayhem and have never been helpful in the progress of the society. Faith is an important part of this conflict that has always been there, especially in these parts of the world. Since the time of Alexander the Great and I believe several centuries before that as well, the middle east and the southern Asia have always been battlegrounds that have witnessed bloodshed. Those that still prevail are mild reminders of the past. While the rest of the world (most first world countries) march ahead trying to cope up with the challenges that unfold in the future, it is not just sad but depressing to see sickening incidents like this happen.

Malala Yousufzai was 12 years old when Al-Jazeera (a news network) made a documentary featuring her family and their struggle in the terror struck region of Swat. She is the daughter of a teacher, a man trying hard to bring reason in an otherwise bitter land by providing education to girls, something that is seen as blasphemy by the Taliban. The documentary mainly features her views told in the sweetest way possible through her captivating presence and lovable charm. Watching her innocent little eyes break into tears while telling that she could not become a doctor was very difficult to digest. Two years after that documentary was filmed, she was no more a girl from the neighborhood with a shattered dream. She is one of the brightest faces of the future of Pakistan and its promises. But the same also brought her into the purview of the Taliban who wanted to assassinate her and have even issued statements that they would attack once again if at all she survives now. What is the value of a faith that is threatened/offended by a 14 year old?? My initial reaction was to try and make a life size robotic Hitler and re-write the program by replacing the word “Jew” with the word “Taliban.” But I immediately realized that it was the Jews that ultimately prevailed and that this “ethnic cleansing” is indeed difficult to achieve.

The fact remains that unless political and military action was taken there can never be a hope for peaceful living in the area. But can this evil be entirely wiped out? After all, it might be easy to kill people and burn their houses but it is very difficult to kill an ideology. But fortunately the same can also be applied to the teachings like Love and Peace. That is perhaps the driving force behind the teenage girls who came out to support and fight. The courage that inspiration gives has proved countless times in history that even great empires can be brought down when people stand together for the greater good. Today, Malala fights for her life and there is practically nothing that I can do that will in any way make a difference to the situation.

Then what does all this mean to me?? What difference does this make in my life?? Well, to answer that, I had to do some soul searching. Digging from the past and looking into the future. While it cannot be denied that everybody has his/her own problems, the real question we must ask is here is “How big??” By big, I mean how seriously should we take them. Closing my eyes, I think of a girl lying on a hospital bed thousands of miles away fighting for her life just because she wanted to study. There are thousands like her unable to do simple things that we take for granted each and everyday. I tried to talk myself out of it saying that these things are not new and that they happen all the time even in places near by. But that is not something that gave brought relief. If anything, it made things worse. To be fair, I have also read a book almost an year back on “Honor Killings” brilliantly written by a Jordan based crime reporter. I was deeply moved and was shocked at how cruel and heartless faith can make people. But what happened today was different. I don’t know if it the innocent smile of Malala or that I am a different person right now, but today’s news story is not any other incident of violence.

It is killing me inside how we take so many things for granted while people not far away from us have to fight for basic human needs including the freedom to come out of their houses. While we pretend to hate our jobs and complain about trivial things, they need to struggle for their right survival. I didn’t know what to do and helplessness seemed to take control of me. But then the same little girl reminded me that one needs to brave. While practically nothing much can be done to eradicate the evil completely, I decided to try and find anything that one can learn from the entire scenario while at the same time praying to the same god that she believes in, to keep her alive.

To begin with, we must stop complaining about our lives so much. While it is easy to share a status update about how tomorrow is a “present”, it must not become another famous quote that we can all agree with but will never try to understand and accept. A person who is not at peace with himself can never contribute to the peace around him. I still remember, along with the picture, a lesson from my school days called “In celebration of being alive” that has a subtle, yet prominent message of respecting one’s life and as the title suggests, celebrating it. Don’t take your blessing for granted. It might be people, property, skills or anything else, cherish them and make judicial use of them.

A few days back I was speaking to a friend who was dumped by his girl friend and while listening to his moping for several hours, I realized why I find it difficult to maintain many friends. I don’t really give a shit about their puny little problems that seem pointless to me. Funny enough, a few days later even they realize how silly they’ve been acting and because of the embarrassment that follows their emotional break down, they tend to avoid me. Frankly I’m a lot happier without them. I used to have a friend from school (who ironically happens to be a muslim too) who used to stay in touch during my graduation days. The amount of pessimism that she showed towards herself was unbelievable. I used to wonder how somebody who is able to finish her graduation, has a family that supports her, be so hopelessly sad in her life. Needless to say, I don’t talk to her now. Remember that our strength as individuals also reflect on how easily we are hurt.

Secondly, we must not hate what we do. Especially because most of us are at a point in our lives where we finish our graduation and get into the professional world, realizing that not many of our childhood dreams will never come true. It is dealing with this conflict, that separates ordinary men from great men. It is easy to sit and give lectures about how mature you are and how tough you can be. It is only during a crisis situation, one’s true identity is revealed. Understand your limitations and then take decisions. When you hate the things that you do, remember that there will be millions of people who would do anything to be in your shoes and since you are that lucky one, it is your responsibility not only to perform your duties but to be good at it. Don’t take your work for granted.

But the best thing we can take away from this is the value we must give to the freedom that we have. The freedom that I speak about is not about being able to stay out till midnight or being able to make our own choices. It is the freedom to smile, looking at the night sky without the need to worry. The freedom to sit and read a book without the fear of somebody putting a bullet in your head. This is the same freedom people are still struggling to achieve and people like Malala are willing to make sacrifices for. Share this freedom with the world. Don’t spread unnecessary hatred and disgust. Don’t fight over things so trivial: like a mobile phone’s operating system or a film actor belonging to your caste or a team that is playing against your country’s team. This kind of negativity has dangerous implications when we look at the big picture. If we cannot love and appreciate something, let us try and ignore it or at best develop a healthy sense of humor and learn to laugh at ourselves. Why should we waste time trying to spread hatred?

Thinking about Malala now I can only say this: Love and respect the women in your life. Give them the freedom that they deserve and if you are a girl, remember that women, just like you, perhaps much younger than you, never had and might never have the freedom you enjoy today. So, respect it and make proper use of it; because while we may not deserve most things that come our way, there is no denying that every person in this world including that brave little girl, deserve a few more smiles.

Cheers!!!

P.s. For all the attention seeking morons and gender biased fuckers out there… what can I say?? If you hate girls so much, don’t make snide remarks on social networking sites. Get a dildo and then shut the fuck up!!!

Posted in Memoirs

Just another Day!!

June 14th 2012

It was not particularly quiet that night. The loud noises of the sports cars kept waking me up. Either that or the random thoughts in my mind that I could not control. Stepping out on to the balcony at 1 ‘O’ clock in the night, I startled a few pegions who then flew away into the night. I could see the golden color of the street lights illuminating the entire landscape and amidst the trees was the Gate way of India. It stood there like it had nothing to do with me. Yes indeed but the sheer magnificence of the structure and what it stood for kept me engaged and more thoughts began to creep in. I was standing shirtless in the balcony of my room on the 6th floor of the Andhra Pradesh Bhavan, Ashoka road, New Delhi.

Realising that my plan to stay awake till morning wasn’t going to work, I tried to keep myself awake with the help of some telugu cinema songs that played non stop on Gemini music and the news stories about Ram Charan’s wedding. I had to catch a flight at 6 in the morning and the cab would be here at 5 and I was there unable to decide whether to sleep or to be awake. I had no idea that the decision was not upto me. I dozed off, not sure when and woke up to some horrible dream only to realize that it was 4:45 a.m. since I already packed all my clothes and all that I had was my single back pack, it didn’t take long for me to freshen up and check out. After signing off at the reception and bidding good bye to that receptionist lady whom I became acquainted with, I stood outside the main gate waiting for the cab. The morning was silent and foggy. The smell I remember was of green leaves. Not sure if there is such a smell but that was what it felt like. I began to feel restless worrying about my flight when the driver called me up and informed me that he would be arriving at the main gate in a couple of minutes. I double checked if I packed the book that I was reading last night. The Fountainhead felt hard at the lower end of the back pack.

The driver promised that he would take me there on time. Air India flights are supposed to arrive/depart from terminal number 3. The seat felt cozy and I began to get comfortable only to realize how restless I was over the last three days. Since my interview (for admission at Jamia Millilia Islamia University) was over it had been a hectic schedule for a couple of days: trying to book train tickets, finding a suitable place to stay and most importantly, making sure I visit the historical places in delhi. Since getting train tickets then proved to be impossible, I finally decided to travel by air; for the first time. Yes, it was the first time I was going to board a flight. I was not frightened like most people told me but was not really excited as well. I was just hoping that I would not make a fool out of myself at the airport while checking in as I didn’t know how to actually “check-in.” the driver drove very fast trying to start a conversation when I slowly fell into my own thoughts ignoring him completely. The star hotels that I drove by made me think of the 26/11 attacks. The clean roads and the greenery reminded me of the days I was there in delhi with my family when I was 9 years old. I do have a vivid memory.

He did keep his promise. It took us exactly 18 minutes (that is what the digital clock in the car said) to reach the 3rd terminal.

“Paisa usko de diya na sir??” he asked me when I stepped out of the cab.

“Ha. He said he’ll give it to you.” I didn’t have a good knowledge of Hindi. “550 hai na??” I asked him.

“Haa saab.”

“Ok then, thank you sir.” I closed the door and he smiled back and wished me a happy journey.

The checking in part was not that difficult or confusing. I did not have to ask any body for help and with in 15 minutes was all set to board the plane. The Indira Gandhi International airport was amazing. I walked around for a while looking at people. Old folk probably going for some medical check ups, couples young and full of life, well groomed gentlemen walking into the American Express exclusive lounge that reminded me of the classy George Clooney from “Up in the air”; and several others. I secretly hoped to find some movie stars ( all my friends told stories of how they met Rahman, ShahRukh and others) but there were none. Nevertheless the walk in the airport was pretty wonderful and watching the planes take position through the wall sized glasses felt good. I thought about the toy planes that I used to play with when I was a kid and then about the planes that vendors sell on the footpaths for ten rupees a piece.

The two hour flight from New Delhi to Hyderabad felt like 2 minutes. I was both fascinated and depressed. Fascinated, while watching the clouds appear like enormous balls of cotton beneath us and depressed because I did not get the seat next to the window. It was nonetheless a memorable experience and except for the awful tasting food and a malfunctioning inflight entertainment system, it was something worth remembering. Like always, I felt bad for not being able to fly like a bird. Few minutes before landing in Hyderabad, the trees, hills and buildings seemed exactly like the models that are used to be present in the architecture department when I was doing a course there back in college. The scene reminded me of my professor then and the girl that I used to have a crush on in that class.

The aeroexpress bus dropped me at the entrance of the Nehru outer ring-road from where I needed to go to BHEL where my brother would pick me up. As I was waiting for a seven-seater auto that would take me there, I realized how I just spent some 10 grand on a journey that hardly lasted 2 hours and now I am waiting for a vehicle that would charge me 8 rupees to drop me at BHEL. The great Indian middle class mind that I have amused me. Incidentally, I met a college friend (Harsha Vandini) while waiting there and after exchanging a few formal greetings and obligatory wishes, I got into a seven-seater and waved her good bye. My brother promptly picked me up on his motor cycle and we went to his room. It was around 9:30a.m then.

After lunch and a quick nap, I got ready for the next part of the journey. The Palnadu express arrived at the Lingampalli station right on time and departed along with me at 2:20p.m. I was alone once again, exactly how I liked it and this time I had my best travel companion, my iPod. For a while I began to think why I prefer listening to songs while travelling. May be it was because I don’t like to talk with people around me. I still have this notion that a heavy amount of meaningless political analysis ranging from Jagan to Telangana, happens in the general compartments of our trains. Not that it doesn’t exist but it is a little less in case of the AC compartments (that is what I observed). People make lousy statements without even trying to understand the difference between forming an opinion based on rational understanding and judging somebody based on prejudice. I had no interest to take part in such conversations and that is exactly why even today I try not to indulge in the mess. If I was forced to participate, I amuse myself by giving wrong details about myself. Just for fun. I once told a gentleman that I was a 12th class student going to the inauguration of our new bakery in Vijayawada while I was studying engineering third year. It is just a way I amuse myself. I like doing it.

The long and tiring train journey ended at 9 p.m when the train finally stopped in the Guntur station. I was almost home but not yet. I wished all the best to the guy who managed to break into my shell and spoke with me for the last one hour about how engineering ruined his life. I tried sharing some of my views with him and told him that he is not going to gain anything by blaming the past. I told him that we are too young to start blaming life and that there so much to do. But I still wonder if he even understood me. Running out of the station I quickly got into a share auto and once again the great Indian middle class man that I am, amused me. After a few minutes of squishing in the auto, he dropped near the NTR bus terminal, Guntur. The Guntur bus stand is actually constructed so as to form the three letters N.T.R and it can be clearly seem in Google maps.

There were no non-stop buses there and I somehow felt that it was how it was supposed to be. I boarded a “Palle Velugu” bus that would take me to my home town “Tenali”. It was 9:30p.m and I was not even a little exhausted. I was in fact smiling; thinking about how my day started and where I have come now. I opened one of the windows and tried to stare out into the absolute darkness there engulfed the entire night. Even the lights inside the bus were switched off so as to allow the tired people to doze off. I could not sleep and began to look at the faces of all those around me. Some of them were clearly job holders who shuttle everyday between the two towns. Some were older people who most probably would get down in some village before we would reach Tenali. My iPod kept playing soothing Ilayaraaja’s music and not sure when, I too dozed off.

The buses from Guntur stopped at a junction which was hardly a few hundred yards from our house. I got down, still listening to Ilayaraaja’s music, slowly began walking home. I kept smiling with satisfaction about the fact that I travelled over 1800 kms via Cab –> Flight –> Aeroexpress Bus –> Seven Seater –> Motorcycle –> Train –> Auto –> Palle Velugu Bus and finally finishing the final few yards with the one means with which human beings proved to be better evolved than our primate cousins: on foot. ( A journey on a boat or something would have finished the entire list of various modes of transport that we studied in Social Studies) But more than that it was about the kind of freedom that is accompanied by absolute solitude. It had been a tiresome few days but the fact that I was alone and in my thoughts kept me running and even without regular food on time, I was able to manage because of curiosity that came out of the solitude. The familiar sound of the door bell was audible even from outside the house and my mother opened the door with the smile that meant a million words, but mostly: “You look like hell.”

P.s.. the trip was a success in a way as I was able to impress the panel of 10 people and managed to secure a seat in the post graduate programme.

Posted in Fiction

Cadaverous Rose!!

He had no shape in her mind… Just a manifestation of thoughts

The rustling noises that the corpses make as they burn are not new to her. She lived in the cemetery all her life. She doesn’t remember being outside those high walls. She doesn’t even know that it is forbidden for her to go out into the village. She met people only when they came to burn or bury their loved ones. She saw people cry for their loved ones. She grew up watching people’s love for others without a slightest knowledge of what it feels like to love or to be loved. She never asked questions and so didn’t have a purpose in life.

Her mother died while giving birth to her and was left to drown in the river nearby. They weren’t supposed to have their rituals alongside the others in the village. Her father taught her the duties that are to be performed. “The dead needed to be groomed well before setting them on fire or burying them for the moths to feed on.” He used to laugh. But on a particular dark winter night, he left and never returned. Few people who visited the grounds to perform rituals told her that he died but she never knew for sure. She didn’t care either. There was so much to do in the God’s acre (that’s what her father used to call the place) that she never had time to rest. She kept the premises clean. “Shiva, the destroyer does what we do” is what her father taught her. She never knew how she looked and didn’t bother to groom herself. The small cabin that was built by her father in the corner of the ground was where she slept during the nights. She felt safe under it.

People always baffled her. She couldn’t understand how everybody seems to be good all the time. All that people say in their prayers are that the dead are the pure souls. She imagined the world to be a beautiful place where everybody is noble and honest like they say inside before lighting the pyre. If everybody is as noble as they say when they are dead, then the world must be a wonderful place indeed. But she was never curious enough to go and see it for herself. She was happy with what she has. It is her purpose she thought, to make sure the soul leaves the body in comfort. She was comfortable with death. But things were going to change:

A hot and humid day turned into a night when the skies were grey. The sounds of the thunder made her crawl into her cabin where she covered herself in the rags that she had. She was cold and the rain continued to pour down. She closed her eyes and imagined that the gods were angry about something. May be it was her. She offered prayers chanting verses to Shiva. The wind was harsh and took down mighty trees that had to surrender after a fight. She knew what fear was but she also knew that there was nothing to be afraid of. She understood death so much that life for her is nothing more than a flickering light in the wind. She closed her eyes tightly imagining Shiva dancing to the tunes of the thunder and that brought a smile on her face. She tried to focus on the sound of her own breathe and ignoring the chaos outside.

It was then the door opened and suddenly the sounds of the rain were unbearable. She opened her eyes and saw a dark figure walk into the room. It was a man who was soaked wet and was panting like an animal. It was as if the darkness behind him manifested itself into a person. She couldn’t see him clearly but stood up and walked towards him taking one step at a time. She could now feel the presence of another person in the room. It felt warmer. She was neither afraid nor confused, but was calm and stood right in front of him doing nothing but trying to look into his eyes. It was too dark. He then immediately closed the door behind him and caught her hand. It was years since she felt the touch of a human being. His hand was wet and cold. She felt the blood rushing inside her body. He then came closer and embraced her with all his might. She was lost. It was nothing like what she ever knew. The night became brutal. It was as if two of the greatest forces came face to face, like a storm hitting an old mountain with all its force and the mountain just stood there taking it, feeling it. What happened that night was a surreal painting, a symphony that marked the birth of life surrounded by nothing but death. It was natural…like death…like life… it was something that felt like it had to happen. It was a confluence that was meant to happen… of not just bodies but herself and the world around her. She fell in love with him and then she felt alive.

The next morning, she woke up to the sound of the birds singing; something that she never really paid attention to. She knew right away that the rain had stopped and the sun was out. But there was no sign of the man. For a moment she wondered if everything was just a dream but the warmth of his body she knew was very real. She ran out to see if he was still there but he wasn’t. The freshness of the sun brought a smile on to her face. She never knew she could smile. She looked at the blue sky and was awestruck by its sheer magnificence. She never knew she could feel the things that she was feeling now. She was born again in love. She could still feel the touch of his hand on her body and when she closed her eyes, she could see and feel the darkness that engulfed her. She wanted to be like this. She didn’t want her soul to leave her body because she was now afraid that she might not have what she has now. She found a purpose to live. She had a reason.

Seasons passed but he wasn’t back. Every time it rained, she went inside the cabin and crawled into the corner hoping that he would open the door from behind and enter the room. But he didn’t come. She began to feel lonely. Her daily chores seemed painful and death seemed frightening. She observed young widows crying and suddenly began to feel their pain. On some nights when it rained, she craved for the sound of his heavy breathe and the touch of his hand. All the new feelings were overwhelming to her. Her soul wasn’t in tune with her body. She was having fantasies, dreams where she was somewhere else. Some other place where wasn’t alone and where she was loved. She wanted to be loved. Her real life in the God’s acre seemed out of purpose and she was losing herself… the only thing she ever owned.

One summer night, when the sky was illuminated by stars and yet seemed dead because there was no moon; she overheard an old man talking to his mate about a maniac who attacked and abused several women in the area a few months back and how the villagers finally killed him by stoning him to death. He also spoke about how the man was later thrown into the river. She heard everything and the obvious struck her like a thunder. A part of her wanted to disagree with the truth. But she knew what she had to know. She was never going to see him again. She never saw him in the first place and that is what made it worse. She could never feel him again. The touch of his hand against her skin, the warmth that she felt even when she was drenched, and the newly found love on herself has vanished into thin air. The night felt darker.

He had no shape in her mind. Just a manifestation of thoughts, the thoughts that she never knew were present inside her. She felt lost, not defeated but lost. She didn’t find the answers to her questions and her mind didn’t stop asking. Neither was she able to find a reason nor did things seem natural. What had happened was definitely not fair. One thing she did understand is the irony of her world. Surrounded by death each and every day of her life, she began to realize the pain of loss for the first time in her life and that was just when she began to appreciate and cherish the exact opposite. There was no reason to continue, no purpose to fulfill, no destination to travel to, no person to love. She wanted to leave this world. It didn’t feel beautiful anymore.

Posted in General

Time to get a room!!

Man, even as a social being has always tried to perfect the personal side of his life. Dreaming of building a perfect home to him is a valid activity to do than building a street or a city. That is definitely alright and to be fair, that is no doubt the better thing to do. But when I was in New Delhi a few days back on some personal work and was walking near the India-Gate/Parliament/Rashtrapathi-Bhavan area, the things that I saw were ugly and disappointing.

Firstly, what I saw in the gardens alongside the 3 kilometer long road from India-Gate to Rashtrapathi-Bhavan were several young couples having active foreplay (no kidding) while few other regular families tried not to be embarrassed having their kids play a few yards away from them. I could simply ignore them and go on my way and that is what I did. But something in me just doesn’t feel right. Now if I say that I hated them, will that make me a conservative fool? Am I being a narrow minded asshole like the RSS or say other religious groups? I don’t care because that is exactly what I felt and I don’t take that back. I was furious at them and still am. It was because I was there standing at the place that I had studied about in my social studies text books since I was a child. Having seen the pictures of those monuments (not just buildings) in the form of sketches in text books, it was a moment of pride for me. I was there once when I was in elementary school but as one can imagine, it was mostly a typical tourist visit that only had photo sessions when you stand at attention and smile at the camera. Now I don’t expect all of them to stand there with a flag pinned to their pockets and saluting the national flag. Hell I’m no patriot myself. But doesn’t the place deserve some respect; at least to an extent that you shouldn’t fuck there? After all it is where the parade takes place on the republic day every year. The place where the Amar Jawan Jyoti”, reminds the sacrifice of the martyrs who died for the country in the freedom movement and the succeeding wars for the defense of sovereignty of their country. People, most importantly, leaders and statesmen, the founding fathers of the present day India have walked there. The place is much more than a road where you can take clever pictures like you were actually lifting the India-Gate or holding the Rashtrapathi-Bhavan by its tip. There is a sense of history that is attached to it. It is a matter of pride. The damage being done to that cannot be measured and sadly there are no practical threats that this may pose. Does this mean that the issue need not be addressed? Of course it should be.

The thoughts took me to a much simpler question. Is public display of affection a bad thing or an anti-social thing? I don’t feel so and I shall never say so. But isn’t there a thin line between what is displaying affection and what is screwing around in public. It all depends on the aesthetics I guess and I don’t talk about what is “acceptable” in public because that is an entirely different study as what is acceptable might depend on so many factors like history and culture of that region. The only scenario I’m addressing here is the lack of respect to the place and what it means to some young people of the country while they do what they do sitting at what to me feels like the one place that every one of us should feel privileged to just stand and appreciate. There was a point when I thought that I was being hyper. Just because I was from somewhere else and those people were living in Delhi all along and they just got used to the place and don’t really pay attention to all these frail and unimportant things. I might just be a Hill-Billy while they are the local people there and they know more about the place than I do.  But that is no excuse because the fact that they live there only makes them more responsible and they shouldn’t be told by an outsider like me to value what they possess.

Interestingly, another thought crossed my mind. Is what we see/hear about what happens in say Kailasagiri (Vizag) or Necklace Road (Hyderabad) same as what is happening there in New Delhi? May be yes. The statues on the tank bund in Hyderabad (those that remained after certain uncivilized fuckers demolished them) are all about the greatness of the cultural heritage that our state has. No matter how old-school I may sound, I honestly feel that if anything, we should only feel proud and respect what they represent. Disrespecting them in whatever way is only insulting our own past. The Buddha statue that stands still at the center of the lake is not there as a show-piece. It is a way of remembering the noble soul, the “Light of Asia” whose simple ideals have transformed the course of human history; whose lessons have inspired not just people but civilizations and religions too. Doesn’t that mean anything? Isn’t relieving sexual pleasures there the most disgusting way of insulting them? A thousand more of such thoughts ran through my mind as I walked alone from the India-Gate to the Rashtrapathi-Bhavan twice during my 3 day stay there and no need to mention, it was a privilege to have walked on that road.

Talking about a similar issue, last week when I was in Hyderabad, my uncle told me that the famous Golconda fort in Hyderabad has been temporarily closed for the tourists because of the same reason i.e., excessive indecent activities going on and I remember I was once asked several questions before I was permitted to enter the “Qutub Shahi tombs” as it was Valentine’s day and they didn’t want any funny business. I had to convince them that I was there alone just to see that place and that I didn’t have a girl already in there. Now that I think about that day, isn’t that sad? I mean, they are tombs for God’s sake. If that doesn’t deserve some respect then I don’t know what does.

Okay so all that I am saying is that people should at least stop insulting such places if they find it hard to respect them. Things that I would like to see are boards that would say: “Get a Room Perverts” in all such places and then sincerely hope that they would work. It’s funny how we make so many funny jokes about the leaders and the parliamentarians ruining our country and all but a few hundred meters away from where our constitution was passed and from where on republic day, the world watches as the floats representing each state of our country make their way portraying with all grandeur the rich cultural diversity that we have; things like this happen and no one seem to care. Here, we not only fail as civilized citizens of the country but as rational human-beings. Certain things are meant for the privacy of the four walls and are better that way. If you really want to satisfy your urges do it somewhere else or if it is just a kinky way to do it in public, you are sick bastards. But that is not what I really wanted to address. All I wish to see is more respect to the places that we take for granted forgetting their history and significance. I personally would consider it an honor and stand in front of and take a picture of the India-Gate that is built in memory of the Indian soldiers and I only feel it is fair enough that I expect people to do the same. I know I cannot force these things because I don’t have the right or the authority to impose. If I had powers to punish them I wouldn’t hesitate even for a second to slap the shit out of those assholes and remind them about the greatness of the place where they are standing.

Man has come a long way since the stone ages and it only right to behave as such. There should be a media campaign teaching the “educated” youth of the nation that historical and heritage centers were not constructed by our ancestors so that one day, a bunch of hormone rich perverts could fuck each other and insult their greatness. Each of such places has its own fascinating story. If you are too busy to learn about them, at least try and respect them. After all, we are all human beings and not animals.

P.s.. Sadly, I know that these things never change and if anything, they will only get worse. What should I do now? Forget about them and do what I regularly do… appreciate beauty, love it and respect it.

Cheers!!!

Posted in General

She-Spy: 10 Tips for Girls!!

There are always some subtle similarities between all the great people in the world. Having a beard like all the Athenian philosophers, studying under a streetlamp and most importantly being kind and helpful to women. I have tried growing a beard for the last three months and ended up looking like Zach Galifianakis instead of Rabindranath Tagore. About studying… hmmm… Errr… uhhh… I don’t like studying even if it is an AC room so that has been ruled out. More over there are stray dogs on the streets that I’m allergic to (not “afraid of” mind you). So, the only option left for me is to help women. Therefore, I have decided to contribute to the welfare of the female population by providing valid tips for young girls to deal with the biggest problem they face: Finding secrets of their boyfriends. So, I have shaved off my three month old beard thinking of tips while doing it and have posted them here. Good luck…Sudhams

So here goes:

Tip1: Once you enter a relationship it is obvious that the girl knows the passwords of all his profiles even before knowing his parents’ names. So, why wait? Go to his inbox and read all his mails. Check for any subscriptions to adult sites, gift orders in flipkart addressed to other girls etc. Also see the sent items. But most importantly, open the chats and you’ll know what to do. Read not just the chats with other girls, but also with boys. You never know, he might me gay or those chats might feature you.

Tip2: There is nothing much to say about how facebook can be used to spy on somebody. But now that you also have his password, go read all his messages and don’t forget to check for the pokes. If you are really insecure in your relationship, you can go as far as to creating a fake profile but that is just mean.

Tip3: Now that we are talking about the online measures, let me just finish with it.

>> You can check the IRCTC booking history to check if he is really going to the place he said he was going to.

>> His Flipkart shopping history.

>> Bank statement, if he was kind enough to share that password and id as well.

Tip4: Give him something awful to eat and tell him that you cooked it. He might spit it out and yell at you or chew it and give you a smile while trying not to puke. If it is the latter, marry that guy right there.

Tip5: This might seem mean but take a note of his bike/car “distance travelled” reading and do the math on a weekly basis.

Total distance = Distance he travelled with you + Distance he told he travelled without you (with 5% error)

If at all the equation doesn’t satisfy, it’s time you increase the surveillance.

Tip6: Call him during odd times in a day and ask where he is. If he keeps telling the same place, there is a high chance that he’s making this up. Choose a proper situation and make a surprise visit. If he is there, it would be sweet of you and if not, you have your answer.

Tip7: Check his wallet for condoms and if you find any, think for a second before you take a decision. Should you be angry on him for being a jerk or be glad because he was thoughtful enough to carry protection. He has seen the Government campaigns obviously. So think.

Tip8: Friends have so much to tell about a guy. This I say not figuratively but quite literally. Engage in a casual chat with his friends and say random things like

>> I know everything about him you know…

>> He doesn’t hide anything from me…

The natural human instinct drives them to prove you wrong and Bingo you’ll get what you want.

Tip9: Don’t ever miss an opportunity to check his text messages. A mobile phone has more to offer about a boy than his curriculum vitae.  Also check if there are any hidden files on his PC/Laptop. Not to mention the browser history but since that is a very old trick, you’ll probably find it empty.

Tip10: Talk to him. Most boys are basically very simple. We don’t understand all your hidden agendas. We don’t think about the consequences when answering your questions because we don’t take things that seriously. So just talk to us and listen to what we have to say. You won’t miss anything unless you over think. If you need the other person to be just like you that would be like seeking a lesbian. Remember that boys will be boys and cherish the fact that one such boy is crazy about you and that even with so many things in his plate; he still likes spending his time with you. Give him the space that he needs; sit back and see how much he has to offer.

Test for Patience: See what your mom says that irritates your dad thoroughly and do the same to him.

That will be all for now and before I close, there is a bonus tip that you might find useful as it is comes as a surprise. Did you know that you could log into a YouTube profile with simple Google account? Now go and check out all the view history of the guy and see if there is anything interesting. Don’t give up if you didn’t find anything. Check out metacafe.com and dailymotion.com sites as well. If the history is empty, that obviously means he read this post before you did.

P.s… Kindly note that if you decide to find his secrets, it is certain that you don’t trust the guy enough. If you do choose to ignore this, I can only say one thing…. Can you resist the temptation??? GOOD LUCK 😀 😀 *evil laugh*

Cheers!!

Follow the writer on Twitter @Sudhams

Posted in General

Sri Rama Navami and Me!!

Am I not happy now? Yes, I am very much happy. Does it even compare to what was there in those days? Not even closeSudhams

The Oxford Illustrated Dictionary has a single line to define what a festival is. It says that it is “a day or period of celebration.” Growing up in a locality where people sat together in the evening just to talk, men greeted each other when going to work in the morning and where children became friends irrespective of the schools they went to, the financial status, age group and most importantly, the caste or religion they belong to; I remember that Sri Rama Navami wasn’t just any other day. It was a celebration indeed… A ritual… A Festival.

As soon as the preparations started for the construction of the “Pandhiri” (A decorated tent used for community celebrations. A place near the temple where the best toys in the world are brought to be sold. It’s kind of a village fare except that it is on the main road and people didn’t mind) with long wooden support beams and dried coconut leaves, word spread in the neighborhood like wildfire and kids from every household start making their own preparations. The temple is hardly half a kilo meter away and yet when I was young, that was miles away. The Piggy Banks (usually made of clay) broke in every house as children start choosing their things-to-buy that year. The festival practically began 10 days before the actual date.

Each year brought a special item that stood apart and children from my neighborhood took turns on a rented bicycle to go take a look at that toy as the vendor displayed it to a rich older gentleman. If it was a remote control Ferrari one year, (which I was a proud owner of) it was a cool Proclainer the other.

From Toy Pistols to Telephones, Bouncy Balls to Streamers, Laser lights to Talking Parrots, from future telling Robots to guns for shooting at balloons; it was a paradise under the “Sri Rama Navami Pandhiri” which was built every year near the town’s main “Ramalayam” where every evening an elderly man sang the tales of Lord Sri Rama’s greatness and the story of his fight for Love. People sat on the road (happens even today) listening to him. I used to make my own list every year. The money from the piggy bank never really met the budget for my brother and me so the burden because of the fiscal budget was usually taken care of by my parents who were more than willing to get us new toys. Most of the toys wouldn’t survive a week after the festival but nonetheless they were priceless.

Not to forget the delicacies there. The ripe mango pieces dusted with a unique mixture of salt and chilli power along with a goli-soda is something that anybody would crave for. The lemon soda or the Sugandha crush is for the privileged class. The celebrations lasted for almost two weeks where as the festival is just a single day. The celebrations were not just near the temple but in our locality as well. Kids proudly showcased their toys to each other without minding to share them. There was also a bit of rivalry as to who has the best toys but that didn’t stop anybody from playing with each other’s. There were not many things that separated people from one another. They were good times those.

Now that I sit back reminiscing those days, I only have one question in mind. Where did all that go? Why I am not still friends with Suresh (the kid who lived across the street. He was a good friend and last I heard, he’s working in a tea stall that his father owns), Sunil (I saw him working in a cell phone recharge outlet a few months back and for some reason I had absolutely nothing to talk to him), Ravi, Dileep, Arun (the Tamil kid who moved into a small house in the street for a couple of years and later left after his father got transferred) and many others.

Each of them had stories of their own. None of them are from my school. They weren’t even of my age and now that I think of it, we never really cared about each other’s religions or castes (I was born and brought up in a Christian family that technically has nothing to do with Sri Rama Navami except that it usually came on the same month as the Easter Sunday). But still, we shared. We shared our toys, we shared our houses, we shared our time and yes we shared our lives. We neither had smart phones to keep in touch 24*7 nor did we have Facebook profiles to poke each other. But we still managed to be friends. We celebrated the festival in its true sense. The toys that we bought and shared for the Sri Ram Navami aren’t just toys. They’re much more. They brought joy.

Times have changed. We’ve moved a couple of houses from there before finally settling into our own apartment in a different part of the town. I have gone places to study and to work and somewhere down the line all those things vanished and I still don’t understand why? Festivals don’t mean the same; friends are either classmates or work colleagues; joy is in my computer, TV remote, motor cycle and a smart phone. Am I not happy now? Yes, I am very much happy. Does it even compare to what was there in those days? Not even close.

Just last night I took my mom to the temple street (where they sold all the toys. I used to go there with my dad and brother as a kid) and bought a few toys. It was actually more for the experience than for the toys. I couldn’t find many toys that we used to buy back then. There were new varieties depicting mobile phones and computers. When I inquired an old man who happened to own a shop, he said that they stopped making those toys long back. I was glad to at least find a few and my mom was kind enough to buy them for me. But now when I open the seals and get to see them close, I am more depressed than happy. They just don’t mean the same anymore. The worst part is that I knew they would never mean the same and still bought them with the fear that I may never see them again. I wanted to preserve at least a few toys (memories) before they cease to exist anymore.

Okay so why is it difficult to be that happy again? It is impossible to go back in time or to freeze it forever I know. But that is not what I am asking for. I want to be that happy again. I want to be blown away by something as simple as a wired car that moved to and fro when we press the red and blue colored switches one after the other. Does growing up mean having to let go of all the things that meant the world to me? By things I don’t mean the physical objects but the simple joy that I had living in a small rented house with my parents and the brother; sleeping on the terrace under the stars on warm summer nights and inside the house under the warm rugs on cold winter nights.

It kills me inside now that I know I will never have what I had back then. But what is worse is the thought that the future doesn’t have the promise that things will get any better. With technology taking over (which is a diff debate altogether), there is no other way except to dive into the race a head towards what I personally feel, an oblivion. That is precisely the reason why nostalgia sells. Every time something reminds us about things that we enjoyed doing, we feel bad. I am just wondering why I didn’t ask myself why I was feeling bad in the first place. Why can’t I be that person anymore? Is that what growing up is? Feeling bad that we couldn’t do the things that we did?

Let bygones be bygones. Those are events from the childhood that everybody has to put behind them and eventually grow that. That is what life is all about. Life is about becoming a better person, achieving great heights, leaving a legacy. But if that is what it is all about, why would Chandra Gupta Mourya, one of the greatest rulers to have ruled that land that we now live in, decided to leave everything he had just to find his nirvana. Isn’t greatness what everyone should aim for? Who else could’ve tasted greatness better than Chandra Gupta Mourya who established the mighty Mouryan Empire even before the birth of Jesus Christ? Why did he give up his might to die by starving himself in a small cave in Karnataka during his quest to attain nirvana or to be enlightened?

I am not sure where I am headed and what I am aiming for. Is it for money? Yes definitely. Will I stop if I feel I have enough to be happy? Probably not because by definition happiness is not absolute and there is no something called as enough money. So am I doing it for happiness? Why live a life leaving things that make me happy to go in search of things that may or may not be worth it. Is it for Love? Isn’t love more of a path than a destination. Why run after it when I can just chose to love. Is this how it is supposed to be? Hmmm… If yes, why??

Will anything be as much fun as collecting and counting the coins from the broken pieces of the piggy bank to buy toys? I don’t know. Owning latest gadgets, playing High Def games, driving a motor cycle at 120kmph, nothing, nothing gave me the same happiness. People became complicated, hearts got broken, friends grew apart, and toys were broken and thrown away. Why? I grew up. What for? I don’t seem to know anymore.

I started to write this hoping that by the end, I would find answers to at least a few thoughts and questions. I was hopeful of at least proving to myself that tomorrow will be better and but now I’m convinced it’ll never be. If I know where I am headed, I am not sure why? What is the point? Do we have to live just for the sake of living, finding happiness in odd places, fooling ourselves by convincing the mind that joy is in tagging people in Facebook and later commenting? The biggest irony is that it is perhaps the mysterious time itself that can answer these questions. So, will I not be happy anymore? Yes I will. In fact happier than most people who genuinely fell they’re happy. Will I be like that kid who was jumping with joy just for seeing a yo-yo flashing lights, as the shop-keeper played with it? Probably never. But will that stop me from going ahead in my life and pursuing a career and enjoying my life the way I want to? Definitely NOT!!!

HAPPY SRI RAMA NAVAMI!!!

P.S… I would’ve been much happier writing this in a diary for my father to read and appreciate rather than in my blog where I share all my madness with the entire world. Now somebody please take me to a therapist!!!

Posted in General

Suicide Note: Ready-To-Use!!

Those who do not want to fight in this world of eternal struggle do not deserve to live

Adolf Hitler, who ironically committed suicide

Suicide might be a crime and is against law but each day we read about many suicides. Most of the people who die, feel they’re deprived of their basic needs like abnormal wealth and respect from all sections of the society of the despite being assholes. I wonder if any other animal on the planet commit suicide!! Hmm.. Have to Google it. However, I respect their right to decide that their life is not worth living and so as a favor on my behalf, I offer them this ready-to-use suicide note. What might actually take a couple of hours will now take only a few minutes. what’s better is that, if filled in correctly, the note will help prevent the death from becoming political or exploited for any other reasons. I really hope people find this useful.

– Sudhams,  who is more likely to be the cause for somebody else committing suicide

 DOES YOUR LIFE SUCK? WHY WAIT? USE OUR “READY-TO-USE SUICIDE NOTE” AND DIE IN PEACE!!

<OM> or <Praise the Lord> or <Insha Allah> or <Saaaachinnnn Sachin>

<Insert Date>

<Insert Place>

FUCK YOU WORLD,

Sorry <Mom & Dad> or <Love Interest> for using abusive language but now that this is my last means of communication with the world in this life, I think I can take the liberty to make a little cursing. I say ‘this’ life because I’m having my hopes high on the next life after my reincarnation. Karma has it that if one suffers significantly in a life time; he/she would have plenty of things to cheer about in the next life. Considering how much this life sucked, I should become <Iron-Man (Money, Technology and Women)> or <Batman (If you are a DC Universe guy)> or <any other choice> in my next life. That is why I decided to end my life by <Insert how you want to kill yourself. Refer notes below>

What I’ve gone through <Insert your reasons in one or two sentences>  might not seem like a big deal to many but the reason why I have chosen to end it all is because there is no hope left. All this time, there were several people who made me feel better about myself but not anymore. Even Nitin’s fortunes seem to have shifted with his hit movie “Ishq”. Not just that… the hockey team got media coverage for a week, Ravindra Jadeja became the costliest player of the IPL, the BJP managed to pull off a victory in the AP by-elections and that Bangladesh almost won the Asia cup. Even the Ritesh Deshmukh dude managed to tie the knot with Genelia…that lucky bastard!! Every big loser in the world seems to have their luck finally favoring them except me. At this rate, even Naga Chaitanya and Vishnu might win awards for best acting and Poonam Pandey might enter Simi Garewal’s most wanted list. I don’t want to be alive to see that. I don’t want to be the only loser alive in this planet so I decided to end it when there are a few losers left. Who knows? Harbhajan might get a chance back in the team. I can’t live to see that.

One might wonder why I decided to commit suicide by <Insert your Choice. Refer the notes below> but I have done my research. That is the very reason why I decided to write an elaborate suicide note.

>> I didn’t set myself on fire because the Telangana activists would call me a martyr who died for the cause of the state. Why would I give a fuck about that when my own life is as upsetting as KCR’s nose or Sharad Pawar’s cheek?

>> I didn’t climb a tower or tall buildings because I wasn’t gonna fake a suicide attempt just to be on TV.

>> I wanted to dress up as a fisherman to go fishing in the Indian Ocean so that some Italian ship would  kill me but I didn’t because that might cause tensions between Sonia Gandhi and Dr MMS. (You know… coz she is Italian)

>> I didn’t drink pesticide or hang myelf to a tree because I don’t want the opposition parties to start blasting the poor government by adding me to the list of the dead farmers.

>> I didn’t blow myself up with a bomb because I don’t want to be called a Pakistani terrorist and if by any chance I was caught alive, they’ll keep me jail forever like that Kasab.

>> Going to Syria, Afghanistan or Iraq for a simple visit would’ve done the trick but for obvious reasons I couldn’t afford the trip.

>> I thought of watching a few Guna Shekar’s films but then I would die of a heart attack and the YSR Congress Party people would tell that I died unable to bear the demise of their leader a few years back. That Jagan Mohan Reddy might even show up at my parents’ house to console them. I would never let that happen.

That is why I decided to <Insert your Choice> I’m sure you would be sad now but let me assure you that once I become <Ironman> or <Batman> or <Ranbir Kapoor> or <Virat Kohli> I would send you a greeting card for every <Christmas> or <Ramzan> or <Dussera> or <September 11th> or <Whatever> [If I happen to remember you in my next life] Please note once again that me ending my life has nothing to do with anything political. I don’t give a dung beetle’s ass about the world’s problems coz I have bigger problems of my own <Insert a few problems> Also, now that I decided to die, let me make a few confessions before I kill myself.

>> <Insert name> is so hot that I always wanted to do it with her

>> <Insert name>, I’m friends with you just because there are so many pretty girls in your Facebook friends list

>> <Insert name> is an class A moron and that guy could eat my poo

>> <Insert name> is always special

>> <Insert name> is an over-rated bastard

>> <Insert name of the couple> are two sluts who are still in it just for the money

>> <Insert Ravindra Jadeja’s name> doesn’t deserve to be in the team

>> I will always love you <Insert names>

Peace Out,

<Insert name>

<Insert Facebook Profile link>

<Insert twitter handle>

XOXOXO

P.S… If at all I see that Jagan Mohan Reddy holding my dad’s/mom’s face in his creepy little arms in an effort to console them, I’m gonna fly all the way to kill him with one of my kick-ass gadgets/weaponry after I become Iron-Man or Batman.

[From the author: Incase you are a girl, replace Iron-Man with <Wonder Woman> or <Saina Nehwal> or <Prathibha Patil> or <Mamata Benarjee> or <Sunny Leone> depending on your requirement]

Coming Soon: Ready-to-use Leave Letters, Love Letters, Resignation from an IT company letters 😛 , Letters that you write when you elope with a girl/boy from your marriage and many more.

Posted in Fiction

Flying over the Plover’s nest!!

“Dude, where do I even begin!! I can’t take it anymore” I was more relieved saying that than angry or furious. Love is full of problems. Coming out of it is a bigger problem.

“But she’s such a sweet girl Ram.” Akash said making sure he was focusing on the road. He was driving and I was in the back seat. I needed my space.

“You know what? I feared this would happen. I am the one who is having problems not you asshole. Don’t take sides here.”

“Man, I’m not taking sides.”

“Good.” I was looking at the birds flying. They used to fascinate me.

“Is it because of her condition? The brittle bones or whatever?” he said taking a right turn. We were on our way to meet a friend at a restaurant for lunch.

“Fuck no!! The disease has nothing to do with that man. In fact that in one of the high notes here.”

“Com’on man… It’s because you can’t get into bed with her properly right?” he turned back with a naughty smile. I could punch him so hard right now.

I met Akanksha at a party. She was a friend of my friend and we hit it off really well. I was a natural with her. She has a skin that smooth and fair. Her hair is short and black. She had eyes that are brown (and a tint of green)

“Don’t be too hard on me.” She said when I was playfully flirting with her. “I have brittle bones.” and then winked. I wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth or just messing around with me. Later when I enquired, she gave me a 30minute lecture on Osteogenesis Imperfecta aka the “brittle bone disease” and what her situation was. So basically she has weak bones that break easily.

“Must be tough eh?” I said playfully. I wondered how she would put on her underwear and stuff. That sure did explain her weird sense of style when it comes to dressing. She wore loose clothes but her face did have an elegance that dominated her attire.

She was a freelance writer and contributed regularly to several websites. She is also an excellent painter. She made more money than me. I work as a consultant at a real estate firm. I make good money but she made more. Just last week, one of her paintings was sold for twice my monthly salary.

“She’s sucking the life out of me man.” I sighed closing my eyes. I was sure Akash wouldn’t even care to reply. I was going to break-up with her later today. I looked out into the sky and saw a few birds flying and then thought of her.

“Oouchh…” she used to say if I hold her hand too tight. “Remember… don’t be too hard on me.”

Those were different times. She first agreed to go out with me on the condition that I would treat her like a porcelain antic. It’s not too much to ask for considering her situation because she was indeed very fragile. During the 8 months we were together, she had three fractures; one for just falling down from her chair. “Get well soon Plover” I used write on her bandage. But things went down the slippery slope very soon.

“You used to call her something… what is it? Parakeet or something…” Akash spoke without turning back. It’s a long journey and there’s a lot of traffic today.

“Aaahh fuck that… don’t remind me of all that shit man. I’m going to break up with her.” I shouted “And it’s not parakeet. It’s Plover. It was responsible for the discovery of Hawaii.” Yes it indeed was. People followed the Pacific Golden Plovers when they were migrating and discovered Hawaii.

I called her plover because many birds have hollow bones that enable them to fly. Their bones are delicate and light weight and so the skeletal system makes flight easy. Even though she didn’t fly, Akanksha did have delicate bones so I called her that. I even gave up eating chicken because every time I was about to chew a bone, it reminded me of her. She loved it. I hate it… well at least I hate it now. I could eat an entire 12 piece KFC bucket. Not a Zinger though. There wouldn’t be any bone in that.

“I’m not sure if she’s being insecure or attention seeking or by default she’s a psycho or something.” I said and immediately Akash stopped the car. I had a feeling that I crossed the line there. I wondered if he was going to lecture me about true love or punch me in the face. Akash was that forever alone friend who happens to have all the answers for relationship problems.

“We’re here mate.” He said smiling and got out of the car. Three more hours for me to break up with the girl I thought I’d be with for the rest of my life.

            *  *  *  *  *

Keerthi is giving a party for us because it’s her dog’s birthday. She’s that rich. Her dog looks like it’s going to die any moment but I never tell her that. It is at her parents wedding anniversary that I met Akanksha. She’s a family friend of hers and also an employee. Keerthi has this school that she takes care of and Akanksha is an art teacher there. Yes, she’s that good; full of life and always talking about facing challenges and such shit with everybody. Except me that is. I was where she would dump all her misery. I needed to be happy too.

“You need to understand her Ram. After all, see what she might’ve gone through in her life.” Keerthi said looking at me as if I was this asshole who was stealing away candy from school children. I have become a cruel human-being here. I looked at Akash hoping that he would back me up here.

“I told him the same Keerthi.” He was looking at the menu card… that son of a bitch. Keerthi’s dog was looking as if it would bite my face off. I wanted to kill it. Do they allow dogs into restaurants? Oh wait, it’s a rich dog. It could even go into a church.

“Look this has nothing to do with her condition alright? In fact I respect her for that. But she’s sucking the life out of me.” I tried to convince her. I knew this would happen. People begin judging and I will look like a total asshole. They would take her side and make me look like a villain. “And just for the record, her life is not that miserable. She had learnt to deal with that. For heaven’s sake she makes more money than me you know.” I was making a point.

“Oh my god! Is this what this is all about? She’s more successful than you.” Keerthi made her eyes big. Akash began to laugh.

“Holy shit no!! Were you even listening to what I was saying?” I realized I was getting louder. “I’m just saying that even with her situation, she made a very good life for herself because she is far more efficient than most others.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Ofcourse it is. That’s why I respect her.”

“Then what’s the problem Ram? Listen to me… she’s a great girl.” We were back right where we started.

“To you…. to you she’s great Keerthi. All that she does to me is dumping her misery. A single day doesn’t go by without me consoling her. I feel like a therapist sometimes.”

“Ha-ha… you’d make a lousy therapist obviously.” Akash pointed. He was true. I imagined myself sitting in a room full of books with Akanksha lying on the couch. I’d be sitting with a notepad taking down bullet points as she poured out story after story involving broken bones and shattered dreams. I would indeed make a lousy therapist.

“Is it about the… you know… yesss-yeee-yexx?” Keerthi asked hesitantly while finishing the dessert. Akash looked at me right away waiting to see what I’d say. He wanted this answer so badly. He was trying to control his laughter… I’m going to kill this son of a bitch.

“No, this has nothing to do with sex. She’s not that brittle. Have to be a little gentle that’s all. Fuck… I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you people.” I took another bite of the vanilla ice-cream. I didn’t eat chicken. I just had a vegetable salad and a soup.

I know I was the one who brought her into the relationship. She kept telling me not to be hard on her. I promised her that I would take care of her because she needed to be taken care of. She’s literally as delicate as a doll. I was ready for that because I found her special. She was this talented young lady who knew how valuable life is. But things changed as intimacy began to grow. She was just using me for her emotional outbursts. But for everybody else, she was this talented, bright young lady who fought against all odds. There were instances when I explained to her about this and yet I was getting screwed over and over again. I even have these nightmares where she’s this huge bird and I’m a worm trying to dig myself into a hole but she would eventually get to me. Oh my… what have I become?!!

“Why wouldn’t she be happy with me Keerthi? Like she is with everybody else.” It was more of a helpless question rather than me making a point.

“She needs you to fill that void in her life Ram. She finally has someone to share them with.” I don’t even understand what she is saying anymore.

“Don’t I deserve to be happy?” that was my question all along. I just wanted people to understand. I do care about what my friends think because I value them.

“Ummm….” They both looked at each other.

“It’s about being happy with someone you love. It’s not social service.” that may seem harsh but that is all I had in my mind. I would only love somebody if I wanted to love them not because I had to. I could totally eat some KFC now.

*  *  *  *  *

“What is it Ram? Why did we meet here at KFC?” she was 30mins late and is asking me questions. I could break-up with her just for that. I finished eating 6 pieces of hot wings and kept the bones there in my plate. I was cruel.

“Would you like to have something?”

“No. you finish. We’ll go out for a drive. I need to talk to you about this kid who got hurt today in school.” Oh boy!! Here we go again. One more sob story that would end up with her crying and me consoling. How many times should I do this?

“Aahh…umm…Akanksha….” she was alert. I didn’t call her plover so she knew this was important. I didn’t want to call her that anymore.

“This is not working for me anymore… I mean us… it’s not working…” I used the traditional line. Yes, I watch a lot of movies which obviously she doesn’t approve of.

“What….” she had no idea where that came from.

“It’s just that I’m not comfortable around all this misery and sadness you know…” I was trying to be as polite as possible.

“What… what do you mean?”

“Hmm… well… when was the last time we spoke about something fun?”

“I thought…” I begin to feel bad now.

“When was the last time we spoke about my job or our friends or about anything that is not sad?” I was on a roll.

“Ohh…”

“It’s just that all that we do now is talk about your sad stories.”

“But… I thought you said you’d take care of me.” She said fighting back her tears. I feel like an asshole but this is for the greater good.

“Ofcourse I would’ve… if you were the same person that I loved…”

“I am the same person Ram.”

“No you’re not Akanksha…”

I didn’t expect this to turn this ugly but those things are to be said. I brought her a Pepsi and I preferred to eat a zinger. She had too much already so I decided to go boneless.

“Why are you doing this to me? You said you’d not be hard on me.” She said looking into my eyes.

It felt as if Mike Tyson punched me right in the guts. I feel sorry for her now. I hate myself. I didn’t have anything to say. I even began to wonder if I was doing the wrong thing.

“It’s about the sex isn’t it?” she asked and it was then I totally lost it. After all that we’ve gone through and all that support I gave her, she thinks that I’m willing to leave her just because of how moderately enjoyable the sex would be to me? That is seriously sick.

“Listen Birdie…” I called her a birdie. “I respect you for who you are and what you’ve become even with your condition. It is you as a person that I hate now and no, it had nothing to do with sex.” I was clear and loud. But it would’ve been better if I did the same talk sitting. People around us began to stare at us and I knew I went way over the line there.

Life is all about mysterious things. We never know when things will happen or why. I never knew that a girl with Osteogenesis Imperfecta would punch me right in the face with around 20 people staring at us. Akanksha stood up quietly from her seat and looked at me with the eyes of an eagle, fierce even for a bird… and then punched me with all her strength and my nose began to bleed. The world knew that I was an asshole and I knew that I was a free bird once again.

P.s… As she used all her strength to punch me, Akanksha fractured three of her bones and I had to take her to the hospital myself. Also, I decided never to eat KFC again. Bad memories!!