Rumour Has It...

this was my entry for a short story competition a couple of weeks ago. if you ask me i'd say it was just an experiment gone awry. so i'll let you judge, i'll give you a warning though, its not much of a story. so please be honest with your comments coz i really cant figure out why this story won the second place, i was just having some fun. the topic was 'rumour has it'. now what sort of a story can you come up with other than a high school story of gossip????


“Rumour has it that all dogs are cats, and all cats are dogs”, said Nosy Parker. Nosy and I had just settled down on the couch for a cup of tea, a routine event in our ‘mundane’ lives. Nosy’s statement might seem a little odd to the rest of the world, but if you live in Quipsville, it doesn’t seem odd at all.
Nosy works at the local rumour mill. The job’s a bore, so the lads at the mill try to liven things up by exchanging tit-bits about the town. Truth be told, the lads at the mill are the only reliable source of information as far as this town is concerned. So if Nosy says all dogs are cats and all cats dogs, there must be some truth in it. I find those little chats with Nosy a nice way to unwind at the end of the day. I work at Barney’s vineyard, and maintaining that grapevine isn’t a piece of cake.
Getting back to cats and dogs, Nosy said that he’d gone to attend the First Annual Canine-Feline Convention a couple of days ago. Apparently the growing disregard for pets by humans has forced dogs and cats to join hands and make a united stand. Both parties agreed that it was high time they stopped bickering amongst themselves. In the words of Nosy, “There will soon be a day when the cat barks and the dog mews, and together they’ll raise a cacophony that will burst the eardrums of every evil human.”
That’s Quipsville for you. This isn’t an ordinary town for sure. There’s a certain quaint charm that’s unique to it. I happened to first pass through this town eight years ago. I was on a trip across the country. I didn’t intend on staying here long, but Quipsville grows on you. I never left.
As Nosy goes on with his stories, I stare out of the window. Little Joey is still patiently waiting for the molehill to turn into a mountain.
Like I said, in Quipsville, everything is possible......

Life Goes On....

I always find it fascinating that if you let your mind wander off on its own for a while, it comes up with some pretty interesting thoughts. Like the other day in class, just to keep us busy, the lecturer asked us to suggest ideas for table topics. I wasn’t really paying attention to what was going on but then I heard one of my friends suggesting, “The Best Teacher You Ever Had”, and that set me thinking. Now that I’m almost at the end of my college life, who was my best teacher ever????
I could say the first one I ever had back in Kindergarten. She was a darling (well she is now, she frightened me back then). Or maybe the English teacher back in sixth grade, or the physics lecturer in the ninth, they were all really good but no, not them. They were all great teachers, and while they all imparted knowledge, I realised that none of them could pass on wisdom. Relax, I’m not talking about the wisdom of the ancients, just the really important things, like how to make everyday more meaningful. That’s when I realised that Life is the best teacher I’ve ever had, no kidding. Sure I’ve bickered about how my life sucks, I’m just human, but when I look at the bigger picture, I can’t quite find the words to explain it.
Every second of the last 20 or so years has taught me something (okay the first 5 years are kind of sketchy but I wouldn’t have gotten thus for if I hadn’t learnt right?). Like those times when mum and dad used to scold me and I hated them for it, now I realise it was just to teach me right from wrong. Life’s a harsh teacher, I guess she knows we aren’t going to listen if she says it sweetly so she just skips the niceties and makes us learn the hard way. I haven’t been around that long yet so my education’s far from complete, but I’ve learnt some pretty important stuff so far...
I’ve learnt not to regret any decision I’ve made. I’ll only be losing precious time in self pity and it’s not worth it. I know it sounds clichéd but it’s true. You can’t change the past but you can learn from it. I’ve learnt that the people who matter to me won’t always be around. People keep walking in and out of our lives; only their footprints remain, reminding us of the moments we shared, making us smile when we are down. I’ve learnt that no matter how much the world tries to crush me down, I lose only when I give up on myself. And no matter how tired I am, if I search my soul deep enough, I’ll always find a reason to go on. You know how sometimes it seems like you can’t live without someone? Not true, you can. Sure it hurts worse than hell, and the memories can torment you for a really long time, but once you accept it and stop trying to run away from it, you begin to notice what you’ve missed. To quote another cliché, “Don't cry because it’s over, smile because it happened”.
And for those who keep telling you that time is the best healer, well I doubt those guys ever had to experience anything that they think “time” can heal, because if you asked me, I’d say time doesn’t heal, it just kind of numbs the pain so that its more bearable, just enough so that we can learn to move on.
According to me, the most important lesson that life’s taught me is that every moment should be savoured, the good ones and the bad. You never know what going to be thrown your way, that’s why I’ve learnt to cherish those moments spent with the people in my life, because I’ll never know when I get to see them again. Some people might think I’m paranoid, but I really don't care, I want to make the best of what I’ve got. And to all those friends of mine from school, I don't know if I’ll ever see them again but I know I’m not going to forget them. I keep shifting cities every few years and saying goodbye to the people I know isn’t easy, I’ve done it thrice so far and I haven’t gotten used to it, don't think I ever will. But though it’s always hard initially, I’ve learnt that life moves on and teaches us to move along with her. That’s the beauty of it, she doesn’t leave anyone behind, it’s just that sometimes we’re too stubborn to listen. Good thing she doesn’t give up on us though. She’ll just keep prodding and gently coaxing us until we move on. Well, she isn’t gentle always, she does seem like Cruella sometimes ;-)
I guess that’s what makes her such a good teacher, and that might just be the reason that life’s beautiful..............................................
“There are two ways to live your life; one is as though nothing is a miracle, the other is as though everything is a miracle.” – Albert Einstein
P.S: for those of you who are wondering why I’ve referred to life as a ‘she’ well, not that I’m a hardcore feminist but women are the ones who bear life right? ;-)

Religion-a must?????

Lets be frank, many of you will be wondering what prompted ME to write on such a topic. O don't worry, I’m not going through a crisis of faith or anything of that sort. Nor am i looking for divine intervention to show me the way. This piece is purely out of scholarly interest as i had to speak on this topic at a debate. Psst, don't tell the nuns, for all i know they might make me sit for cathechism remedials after class ;-)
It is often claimed by many people, that man cannot do without some kind of religion, because he is too weak to survive on his own. This, perhaps, is the reason that many religious theists find it incredulous that a person can not only live, but actually enjoy his life without religion. Lets call these guys Orthodox Religious or OR for short. So if you are an indian who’s decided to become an atheist or an agnostic, you need to watch out for the ORs.
First things first. Religion, for a majority of us starts at birth. You are taught the scriptures and rules of the religion your parents follow. And then you spend the rest of your life following it.
WHY??
Is it because you actually believe what is taught or are you just cozy in your comfort zone? Hmm, its usually the latter isn’t it? Let sleeping lions lie. But why stop those who wish to take a different path?
Some of the arguments put forward by the ORs are:
1. Religion is necessary for life to have meaning: Not true. For life to have meaning, you need to have something worth valuing. How much you value a person or a relationship depends on the choices you make. Nothing can teach you the value of a person.
2. Morals can only be taught by religion: Really?? In that case, Hitler, Bin Laden and Khomeni should be saints don't you think? As kids we’re all taught to differentiate right from wrong. Its our decision after that. For all you know, religion can give quite a warped sense of right and wrong.
The list of arguements is endless. But no one can deny the fact that religion is a bone of contention the world over. More so in a ‘secular’ country like India. How can you justify religion when it drives people to draw blood? And yet the truth is that most people are unaware of the basic essence of the faith they follow. All religions condemn killing, so holy wars and crusades don't get you to heaven. Every religion seems convinced that it is the original word of god and all other religions are only fit to be exterminated. i’m surprised this hasn’t caused a full scale war yet.
So, finally, do we need Religion? If you ask me, i’d say its a matter of personal choice. Just because a person decides s/he doesn’t need religion, it doesn’t mean that the person is evil and his/her soul is condemned to eternal damnation. Whats more important? That a person has a religion to fill into a government form? Or is it more important that he/she is a decent human being?
For me, thats what matters most, that you are a good human being. Everything else is secondary. I dont care if you're a christian, a hindu or a muslim. As long as you know how to treat a fellow human, i'd be proud to call you my friend. And a line from Tagore rings loud in my ears, maybe because its been drilled in over the ears as a daily prayer. Most people just recite the words without meaning it, but just take a minute and it'll make sense.
'where the world has not been broken up;
into fragmenby narrow domestic walls;
into that heaven of freedom my father,
let my country awake.'

Genius Murdered....

Now that exam season is over, it’s time for results. Suddenly every parent whose child is in the 10th or 12th is having anxiety attacks and insomnia. For all those poor souls who have just completed their 10th, you have my sympathies. No really, all you poor devils are in a total quandary aren’t you? I’m yet to meet a tenth grader who has made up his/her mind on which stream they want to pursue. Add to that the age old Indian concept, “science is what you should take!!, commerce is for average students!! Arts???? That’s for losers who just want a degree, not smart kids like you!!”
If I ever manage to find the Einstein who came up with that theory, I’d love to siphon their brains through their nostrils, fry it till its burnt( yeah, actual bheja-fry) and blast it off to space!!! No, don't worry, I’m not a deranged psychopath, just another frustrated kid.
I admit I’m lucky my parents don't follow that ancient ideology but I still have friends and family who’ve been bound in the chains of yore. And it isn’t really fair is it?
Unfortunately, the education system in our country is such that intelligence is measured by the amount of facts you can cram into a bundle of nerve cells that rest a foot above your body. Every parent wants their kid to be the first in everything. But you’re not going to have a first unless there are people behind right? Ok that’s not what I meant. What I’m actually trying to say is, why not appreciate a kid for what he/she is? Why is art or sport or dance just a hobby? Someone who aces in sports may be average in class but so what? Isn’t the fact that he’s better at something other than studies count? Why is it so difficult for an Indian parent to accept musical genius over intellectual prowess? And I’m talking about Indians only because, face it, we have a major problem here and I’m sure all of us have seen this happen at some time or the other.
The burden of expectations that parents place on their kids has led to a generation that doesn’t know how to accept defeat gracefully. The fear of losing has led to two types of kids, the aggressive ones who can’t take defeat and those who give up with just one failure. Parental pressure forces many kids to take up careers that hold absolutely no charm for them. In the end, they either drop out, give lack lustre performances or in extreme cases (which have become quite regular these days) end their lives. Those who get through with it aren’t happy either.
For those who’ve been through it, you can’t change the past. But what you can do is make sure that you don't commit the same crime your parents did in the future. I know “crime” is a strong word. In the end our parents just want what’s best for us. But if suppressing a kid's natural ability isn’t a crime, then I don't know what is.
It’s high time we woke up to the fact that genius doesn’t have to be just intellectual. We always say each child is special, well, it’s time we believed it too. There was a time when being left handed was considered unnatural, now we know that a left hander is just as good as a right hander, sometimes better. If we could get past that, then this shouldn’t be that difficult should it?
Its common knowledge that Einstein and Edison were duds in school. They dropped out of school and yet, today we’re studying facts that the drop outs found out. We try to learn from others mistakes, so why are we missing the point here? Wake up people, can’t you hear the siren??

Books!!!!

There’s nothing much for me to do now that I’m home. My perpetual complain is that I’m bored. Mum gets really irritated every time I say that, so she decided the best way to keep me occupied was ‘chores”. Now household chores are one of the things about home that I do not miss. Not that I’m lazy, I just don't like it ;-) my task this morning was to clean out the bookshelf.

Now some of you may think it’s weird but I found this far more appealing than chopping veggies. Finally I get a job I don't mind doing. Why? Simple, I love books.

My love affair with books started when I was about 4 I think. Reading is more than a hobby to me; it’s something I’m totally involved in. Music and photography are still battling it out for a second place. Give me a good book and I’m totally oblivious to everything around me. Hey don't blame me, blame my parents. They’re both voracious readers and have amassed an amazing collection of books over the years. Yet both of them claim I’m the limit ;-) you could hurl all sorts of abuses at me and I wouldn’t hear a thing.

Coming back to the bookshelf, it took quite a while rearranging it according to authors and genres. The collection ranges from fiction to thrillers to self help books. You name it we’ve got it. I’ve often told mum that she might as well open up a library but let’s just say that my parents are pretty possessive about the books, after all it’s taken them years to collect and they’re proud of it. Nothing pisses them off more than someone not returning or losing one of their books.

What upsets me now is that most people I know have never experienced the joy of reading. Reading a book requires tedious effort which they feel is a waste of time. And I feel sorry for them. Because they’ll never know what it’s like to lose yourself in another world. Because their imagination is limited. And it’s not just about what you read. Books are a trip down memory lane at times. The fairy tales you read as kids, then moving on to Enid Blyton, Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew until you reach Sidney Sheldon, Archer, Deaver etc. Each set reminds me of different phases of my life. I’m sure there was a time when each of us wanted to be a character we read about. I still remember mine was to be a detective, thanks to good ol’ Sherlock Holmes. It’s a pity that soo many people are missing out on this.

A lot of us still read, but the numbers seem to be dwindling. Unfortunately, even those of us who like reading barely get the time for it. I know, because it’s the same with me. For a person who used to average at least one medium sized novel per week, I now manage only about one or two per month. I’m pretty sure I’ve read somewhere around 400 books so far if you include the ones I read as a kid;-) And till date no two books I’ve read have ever been alike, that’s the beauty of it.

I still haven’t read through my parents’ collection, though of late I’m the one who’s been adding to it. That’s just temporary mind you, I intend to build my own collection but since I’m still moving all over the place, I’ve loaned them out to my parents ;-) As for reading though my parents entire collection, that’s not going to happen. Not because it’s too vast but because our tastes differ but that can’t be helped ;-)

I could go on and on about books but that might just bore you so I won’t ;-)

So, when was the last time you read a book?

A Night at the Station

Ok guys after so many of you complained about my stories being too grim, i've made a desperate attempt to try something different. So please be honest with your comments. My mums already told me its boring straight on my face. And no she hasnt read my previous stories. If she does she'll be convinced i need help. Mothers tend to over react to such situations. A certain friend of mine beat me up pretty badly for killing off an entire family in the last story. The scars from the clawing are a grim reminder of my fate if i kill any more characters. So i earnestly request her to please de-claw herself before reading the story.
And yes, the idea for this one was not mine alone. Niyati was the one who got the idea and we worked on it together. Now i dont have the original script so had to improvise so in case i left out anything, sorry gal....

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Travelling alone by train can be boring, and its worse when the journeys long. Like last week. I had to attend a friend’s wedding, yup another one bites the dust that was the song on my mind all the way. But hey, I wish the guy well. Wait a minute, didn’t tell you who I am did I? Name’s Michael Kane, 5’10’’, medium build, late twenties, got me? Good....
So there I was on the train, overnight journey and boy was I tired. The meeting in office didn’t go that well. All I wanted was some shut eye but sleep eluded me. The train pulled up at some remote station somewhere round 2 am. Since it didn’t look like we were going to move for a while, thought I’d stretch my legs for a bit. I’m sea sick so walking on a moving train makes me rail sick I guess. I had to take a leak so I went in search of the washroom. Curse my luck, when I got out I was just in time to see the train disappearing over the bend. I checked the schedule; the next train was at 6. Had to wake the station master to inform him about my luggage. That done I had 4 hours to kill. And not a soul awake.........
With nothing better to do, thought I’d take a nap on a bench. Was just about to settle on one when someone startled me.
“Dude, that’s my bench!”
A quick glance around revealed no one, just a stray black dog who seemed unperturbed by any voice. Logic told me my tired mind was imagining things. I needed sleep.
“You deaf?” that voice again. Now I was beginning to get spooked.
“Who’s there?” I asked
“Don’t tell me you’re blind too. Look around dufus who do you see?”
“No one. Just a dog.”
“Just a dog? Excuse me!!”
“You’re telling me you’re a dog? Hog wash!! Dogs can’t talk!!”
“ True, most dogs can’t talk. I can though”
You must be thinking I’m nuts. I thought so too. But I was tired and convinced I was imagining things. A talking dog?!! That’s rubbish. I just needed sleep. I hear voices and I see a black Labrador. So I make a crazy assumption that the dog can talk.
“What’s with the incredulous look on your face?” asked the lab.
“I ‘m talking to a dog. You think I should be excited about it?”
“Ah! Humans....” sighed the lab. “You talk to a bit of plastic, watch glass screens and yet rubbish the thought of a talking dog. Didn’t you watch cartoons? Don't the animals speak there? Anyhow, what’s your name?”
“Mi...Michael” The hesitation was for fear of going crazy. “What’s yours?”
“The name’s Bond. James Bond”
Yea right, a dog named Bond. By now I was convinced I had to see a shrink ASAP.
“So this is your bench?” I ask Bond.
“Just my favourite seat Michael. You hungry?”
“Umm, yea a little”. A little was an understatement. I hadn’t had anything since lunch so I was famished. But having scraps from the garbage can wasn’t my idea of a meal.
Bond clapped twice, as if to summon someone. A genie appearing wouldn’t have surprised me now but I was expecting too much. A rat came scampering out of a hole in the wall and bowed before the dog!!
“At your service sire!” squeaked the rat.
Bond turned to me.” Michael, meet Max, better known as the rat that inspired the movie Ratatouille. He was a student of the renowned chef Sarla Balal. He’s worked with Ranjheev Kapoor as well. Max, Michael’s our guest today. Why don't you cook him something special?”
“Would you like some lasagne?” squeaked Max
Too stunned to reply, I just nodded yes. First a talking dog, now a rat that cooks. Maybe my mother was right. I’m getting too involved in my work. How else do you explain it? Garfield’s just a comic strip right? Max was off to cook. Bond was staring at me intently. And that was giving me the jitters.
“What?” I asked him.
“Oh, nothing. So Michael, what do you do?” This was one inquisitive dog.
“I’m a journalist. I work for The Times.” Feeling bolder now, I asked Bond, “If you guys can speak, then why not do it every time?”
“Some things in life are not meant to be known my friend”, said Bond with a very regal air. I was about to pester him further when out came Max followed by a lively bunch of rats carrying a platter of mouth-watering dishes. Corn soup for starters, followed by lasagne. And to finish it off, a delectable black forest cake. I won’t lie. Rats may have cooked it but it felt like heaven.
“Wow Max! That was totally out of this world” I gushed like an awe struck ten-year-old.
“Now that we’re watered and fed, it’s time for some entertainment”, declared Bond and led me to an alley behind the station. The place looked packed as if for a concert. From what the cat sitting next to me told me (yes, now a talking cat), the Pussycat Dolls were going to play today. Oh and this group had real pussycats no humans.
The concert was awesome but by now I was really tired. Just as I was about to doze off on my seat, Bond nudges me awake and rushes me back to the station.
“Hurry!! Its 6 already. You’ll miss the next train!!” Bond and Max made sure I was in the train. Just as it started moving Max scrambled atop Bonds head and thrust a packet into my hand. “It’s the black forest cake. There was some remaining. Thought you’d want some in case you get hungry again”, said Max. “Thanks Max”, was all I could manage. I soon drifted off to sleep thanks to my weariness. By the time I woke up. The train had reached my station. On checking I found my luggage intact. I realized I’d most probably dreamed up the whole episode. I was on the same train after all so there was no way I’d missed my train. I gathered up my luggage and decided to set out. And that’s when I found the packet containing the black forest cake.........

Back To Pavilion

IPL season isn’t it? I’m not much of a cricket fan but T20 I do follow. I’m just hoping the royals buck up soon or I’ll have to hide my head in the sand when I meet a few people after the seasons done;-) but that’s not what this post is all about. Right now I’m back to pavilion.......back home that is;-)
What’s it like coming home after a year???? I’m having a nice time I’d say. Like the last three years, this year was no exception, my flight was delayed by an hour, which is why mum and dad didn’t bother setting out early from home to pick me up. Off from the airport I thought I’d take a much needed nap on the 2 hour drive home to Sohar........
Now I’m sure most of you have never heard of this place. Trust me it’s practically Timbuktu, Google it, I’m not going to bother explaining where it’s located. Suffice to say it’s somewhere between Muscat and Dubai (there’s no way you don't know where’s Dubai). Where was I? Oh yes that nap.....it never happened. Why? Because I’m not used to a car that glides over a very smooth road at 120km/h..... I seem to have grown rather attached to the potholed, winding roads of Mangalore. Sleep on such a smooth road is a farfetched dream.......
So we finally reach home!!!!! Cramped legs, jammed back and all..... And I’m lost...... no kidding, long absence from home + a mum with a lot of free time on her hands = one lost kid whose home on vacation. I headed for my room to change only to open the cupboard and find it wiped clean. No trace of my clothes anywhere!!!!!! Seems mum bundled off all my old clothes to charity. “Well what do I wear? Pat came the reply,” Go hunt in dads cupboard!” so I’m now forced to swim and float around in oversized tees n shorts, all the while thanking my lucky stars that you guys aren’t around to see it ;-)
That wasn’t the end of it......while I was trying to locate the stuff I needed mum casually mentioned that we had to attend two parties that evening. “Which one are you guys going for?” I asked. “Both”, said mum. Parties here don't start till about 9 or 10 in the night so they’d worked out a schedule. 9-11 at one party and the rest of the night at another. My protests of being too tired (which I was!!) went in vain. I was dragged along anyway, bleary eyed, splitting head ache and all.
The a/c’s here are a truly welcome respite from the soaring temperatures back in India, but it takes some getting used-to to the ridiculously low temperatures that people here set it at. How low???Low enough to freeze the bottle of hair oil in my room. My fogged up mind kept imagining myself in the tundras. The Irish cream and wine wasn’t helping coz the blaring cacophony they called singing was, I’m sure, way above the permissible decibel for humans....
Thanks to jet lag and no sleep for over 24 hours, I was bushed when we got home at 5.30 in the morning, IST (jet lag remember??) slept 8 hours straight.
Right now I’m busy making the house habitable according to me and messing up according to mum. The remote’s missing from its usual place, sofa cushions are thrown about, novels all over the place, chocolate wrappers everywhere..... “It’s a mess!!”, shrieks mum. “face it, the kids are home!!”, I retort ;-) the house no longer looks like a museum or ones you see on those picture perfect descriptions on the magazines.....
Now if I could only find a way to speed up the ridiculously low net speed here.....ever tried working on a speed of 40kbps?? Its hell....... I better get those dishes done before mum enters the kitchen.......
Yup I’m well and truly back to pavilion......

One Moment in Time

The fast paced life we live these days doesn't seem to leave us much time to ourselves. Which is perhaps the reason why we tend to lose ourselves in the constant mess all around us. Just another face in the crowd, existing, not living. And yet harbouring the hope to break free from the monotony of life.
Which is perhaps why sitting by the river last evening, I experienced something that’s a little difficult to explain, but still worth a try.
Being a nature lover I try my best to get out of the city whenever I can. Not that Mangalore’s a big place, it's a pretty small town, but even so, it's not the kind of place where you can lose yourself to your own thoughts when you want to. I'm usually too busy with college work and projects there.
I had a small family function to attend yesterday, and the house happened to be quite close to the river. As usual I had to go through the whole ritual of meeting a zillion aunts and uncles. Anyone living in this part of the world will know what I’m talking about. Not that I mind it, it’s nice to see all of them once in a while, it just gets a little irksome at times, because they all ask the same questions over and over. After meeting the whole jingbang I realized I was jobless because this was the time the 'adults' talked and the 'children' minded their own business. Yeah I know, no matter how old I get, they'll always regard me as a kid, it’s something I’ve learnt not to argue about. Since I had nothing better to do I decided to go down to the river, thought I’d take some time off to myself.
The place was just the same, even after all these years, I remember coming here as a kid. It had been quite a while, and yet while everything around me keeps changing, somehow, this place still manages to evoke the same feelings in me. It's like taking a moment out of my life and just feeling it.
There's a total gamut of emotions that I experience all at once. For starters, there’s this quiet tranquillity that comes from being in such a peaceful place, a welcome change from the humdrum of daily life. But it seems to recede just as soon as it comes to be replaced by a sense of confusion, regret even. It’s only when we get these quiet moments to ourselves that we begin to get introspective. Start musing over everything we've done. There's this certain apprehension about the future too, wondering if we've made the right choices.
Looking at the river flowing, I can't help but notice the resemblance it shares with our lives, nothings constant. And yet the river at least has an aim, I’m still trying to find mine. Sure I’ve got my life all planned at least for the next five years, but then I know there's no guarantee that things are going to turn out just as I expect it to. Its then that I realize the need to live life one moment at a time. To enjoy it to its fullest. It’s something most of us tend to forget. We spend so much time worrying about what is going to happen that we forget to live. We just go on existing until someone or something decides it high time to give us a rude awakening and make us realize what we've missed. As much as we hate it when we realize the truth, a part of us is actually relieved as well. We are a strange bunch, aren't we?
For those of you who are wondering if I’ve gone all potty and am just rambling on, maybe I have or maybe not. I'm pretty used to people thinking I’m a little off my rocker but hey, I know where I stand. You are the ones who need to slow down and start living for a while. In case you've forgotten, life's beautiful........................

The Secret

I'd written the following story for a competion in college, so i'll have to warn you, its not one of my better stories. That's because i feel that stories should be written only when inspiration strikes ;-) but in a competition you're given a topic and have to build on it.....in this case, i was just given the title "the secret" ...... well i did what a could and this is the result. for those for you who have been reading my stories since high school, please read the note on the right(hey there..) the rest of you folks can just continue with the story......

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“Mother and Father looked so nice together didn’t they?” asked Lily, pointing at the family photograph on the wall. “Yes, they did”, replied her older sister Elena. “I wish they were still alive Elly, then I could play with daddy just like you did”’, said Lily. Elena wrapped her arms around her little sister and whispered in her ear,” I wish they were her too. You always were their favourite you know.” Lily smiled and then ran out to join her friends in the garden. Glancing out of the window, Elena could see her ten year old sister laughing and playing. She marvelled at how quickly eight years had gone by. Her eyes were drawn again towards that old black and white photograph in the wall. She let her mind drift back to what seemed like another life.
They’d been a happy family, her parents, her brother Mark and herself. Her father was a farmer, and though they weren’t very rich, they were happy and contented. Lily’s arrival into the family had just increased their happiness manifold. Her father would work in the fields all day while she and her brother went to the village school. After school, Mark would lend his father a hand while Elena helped her mother with the baking and the meals. Theirs had been a happy life.....until the war. Over the radio, they heard the prime minister urging all capable men to fight for their country. Father enlisted himself in spite of Mother’s repeated protests and pleas... none of them could dissuade him. “It’s the least I can do”, was what he said.
After a month of anxious prayers and waiting, they received a letter saying that Father had been grievously wounded and was being sent back. Elena could vividly remember the day Mark and his friends had carried Father into the house on a stretcher. Elena rushed to her father’s side and held his hand. But though he looked the same, he seemed different, distant.
Her father was a changed man. He recovered from his wounds quickly but all at home could sense the difference. Father no longer smiled and joked like he used to. He no longer went out to the farm. He just sat in his chair and stared out of the window all day long, as if he was afraid of someone coming. They often heard him screaming in the middle of the night, checking all the locks. The doctor said that the war had affected his mind. There wasn’t much they could do.
Elena shuddered as she recalled that dark night that changed her life forever. The enemy had attacked their village that night, setting fire to the houses and shooting the unarmed villagers.
Elena grabbed Lily from her bed and ran into the hall. Her father stood there with his rifle aimed at Mark’s chest. He was shouting and ranting insanely, believing that his own son was his enemy. Mother lunged at him and tried to wrestle the gun from his grip but she was no match for him. Elena watched, shell-shocked as her father shot her mother and then trained the gun on her. Elena stood frozen with fear, carrying Lily in her arms. “Elena, run! Take Lily and go!” Mark screamed. He pushed her out of the door just as Father fired again. Mark slumped to his knees, looked at her and pleaded with her to get away.
Elena looked at him one last time and ran. She joined the other villagers who were running away. They reached the next village where they were given shelter. Her mother’s brother came for them the next day. They lived with him now.
Elena never told anyone what happened that night. Everyone believed that her family was killed in the war. She didn’t want to tarnish her father’s memory. She knew that the monster who killed her mother and brother wasn’t her father. Her father had died in the war, it had destroyed him.
As Elena watched Lily playing, she vowed that she would never tell anyone what transpired that night. She would take that secret, that nightmare with her to the grave.

Holding On....

lingering since the day of it's birth
the soul wanders all over the earth
walking through life's dreary days,trudging through the years
finding no rest where'er it goes

in listless aimlessness it wanders around
seeking a goal, an aim, a purpose
but finding none, only running into walls
bruised and battered until it falls

yet still so insolent, so spunky and innocent
still unyielding still headstrong
still so proud, it wants to go on
heedless of setbacks, ignoring the pain
locking it all deep within itself

life's journey still miles long
hope yet remains to find its fate
its destiny lies in a place unknown
till then will it go without a backward glance
never showing the scars of wounds long gone......

Rise of the Barbarians

Welcome to Mangalore. A formerly little known town in coastal Karnataka which has always been overshadowed by big brother Bangalore. Not anymore, Mangaloreans are so sick and tired of being virtual unknowns, that some of us decided it’s high time people noticed our location on the map. All thanks to the saffron brigade for helping Mangalore get noticed.
First the attacks on Christians and now moral policing. “Moral policing”, interesting term isn’t it? What gives these people the right to dictate what constitutes our culture and morals? These barbarians were beating up girls, what sort of morals does that reflect? According to them, girls were not properly dressed and dancing obscenely, so these guys decide they have the right to molest them, sheesh!!
So what now? Am I not allowed to go out with my friends for a couple of drinks just because I’m a girl? Am i supposed to stay away from my friends just because they are Muslims or Hindus? Democracy is anyhow virtually extinct, pretty soon secularism will be wiped out if these goons have their way. 60 years of calling ourselves a democracy and we're still somewhere in the dark ages, how else can you explain such immature, barbaric behavior?
Well i’m not going to let some brainwashed hooligans with IQs the size of an egg cup dictate how i’m supposed to live. I don't care if my friends a Hindu or a Muslim. What difference should it make as long as they’re decent humans? My life is the one thing that i own totally, no one else has a right over it. So I’m the only one who can decide what i do, what i wear and who i go out with. I can be who i want to be and no one can take that away from me. And if anyone has a problem with that, it’s high time they grow up.

P.S: anyone interested in creating a game online where you score points on banging the goons? remember the 'throw the shoe at bush' game ;-)

Size Zero?????

This year started out pretty great for me. For the first time ever I didn’t have to bother about fitting into a dress. I’ve always been a wee bit on the heavier side since childhood so I’d normally shun those oh-so-cute-n-sexy dresses that are so blatantly displayed in all stores come the new year. But like I said, I didn’t have to bother this year, all thanks to an extremely successful exercise regime I’ve been religiously following the last 7 months. Since it’s worked so well for me, I think it’s only right that I share it with those friends of mine who could some help in that department. Mostly because it’s a highly successful but little known programme.
Now I must warn you that the trainers in this regime are very hard taskmasters. And the first few days leave you aching all over. I normally start it off at 7.30 in the morning. Depending on how late I am, warm up varies from a brisk walk to an all out run and ends with a jump on to a one square foot board. Now starts the tricky part and this took me a long time to master. You’re standing on a board suspended about 4 to 5 feet off the ground and the boards moving in all possible directions. To make matters worse, you’re not the only one going through this torturous routine, there have to be at least 50 odd people crammed in all around you at the same time. So you’ve got to learn to maintain your balance and not fall on the others. This part tends to put everyone in a bad mood. So if you’re not used to hurling abuses at people, you better carry a pair of ear plugs.
Like I mentioned earlier, this is an all out workout routine that exercises all parts at once. Upper body work outs include holding on to railings attached to the ceiling. Thanks to all the swaying around of the floor, you’ve got to use your hands to stay in one place, though I admit there have been several times when I felt like my arm was being ripped out of its socket. Oh, I forgot to mention. This routine also involves a very unpleasant massage. It mostly involves being poked in the back, elbows jabbed into your ribs and stomach, and not to forget, people stepping all over your toes. It’s going to leave you black n blue all over. I come home every day with really colourful bruises but I’m pretty much used to it now.The last 2 minutes involve kicking, pushing and pulling people around so that you can make it to the door on time. Good way to learn how to get out of crowds.
I admit it sounds really painful but trust me it’s worth it. I’ve tried all sorts of diets before and none of them worked. But this is the only regime that allows me to eat everything I want and still lose weight. And the best part, it only lasts for 20 minutes!!!! No more slogging at the gym for hours just to lose a couple of kgs.
For those of you who’re interested in trying this out, these centres are pretty easy to locate.
Just walk down the road and jump into a public transport bus during peak hours. You’ll get the best work out money can buy. I'm still working towards achieving the perfect figure;-)

One Dark Night.....

New Years supposed to start with a bang right???? Well the party on new year's eve was fun but i think 2009 decided to enter my life shaken not stirred.......I need to stay away from those martinis....
NOTE:The following is based on a true incident that occured a few days ago. I have however taken the liberty of changing the names of the people involved since I have no intention of getting whipped in public. One more thing, i've been told the narraive gets boring in the middle. I've tried making amends but if its stll a bore let me know.

It was about 8.30 in the evening. In this part of the world it's pretty late. A bunch of students (me included) had just left a pretty well known college somewhere near Manipal after attending an inter-collegiate event. We were all worn out but then, when your having fun, you don't notice it. Now all of the girls' cell phones were ringing nonstop courtesy of our anxious parents since all of us had to get to manglore and thats a good 2 hours journey by bus. A few of the guys were chivalrous enough to leave the party early so that they could escort us home, they had no intention of letting the girls travel alone this late appearenty though I'm pretty sure that wasn't the only reason.
So there we were at the bus stop praying for a bus to come by soon. The bus came all right but I'm pretty sure the conductor got the shock of his life to see a bunch of 30 youngsters rushing in. That was one of the last buses for the evening and none of us wanted to be left behind. After settling in, we were out to ruin the sleep of the other passengers but screaming and shouting at the top of our voices, well what else can you expect? We were having fun.
The road from manipal to manglore is pretty scary, because the area is sparsely populated and street lights are found only at junctions. Everythings going all hunky dory until the engine starts sputtering. Now that starts giving Ria, Hina and Vinny the jitters coz the three of them had just missed being seriously injured in a bus accident the previous day. Some of the other pasengers weren't so lucky. The bus moves fine for a while but then starts making odd noises again. Ria starts panicking. Ash tries calming her down but Ria just gets more agitated.Pretty soon she's screaming and crying that she wants to get off the bus. The bus rolls to a stop and Ria jumps out that instant totally refusing to get back on the bus.The bus didnt look like it was going to start again so we all trooped out.
We had absolutely no idea where we were, no street lights or signs around anywhere. A few minutes later the conductor asked us to get in coz the engine was up and running. Ria didn't want to and we couldn't just leave her and go. So the guys requested the conductor to wait for a while until another bus came along.
Nope he didnt wait, the bus went off and we were stranded in the middle of no where. Needless to say, most of the girls started freaking out. The scene might as well have been out of some horror movie.A dark road in the middle of the jungle, no light for miles around, and boy was it chilly.
The guys finally decided to get serious. Since our group was the first to leave, Adi tried calling up the others to see if they'd left yet. Fortunately they hadn't but they were still an hour away. There wasn't much we could do. Neeta and I were actually having fun,couldn't help it. We both love the outdoors and are always game for adventure, adds some spice to an otherwise boring life. The situation would actually be pretty hilarious if it wasn't for the fact that Ria was getting hysterical.
"What now?" I asked Adi. "Well I spoke to the guys, they said they'd arrange a vehicle for you girls. Once we send you off safely we'll jump into another bus. Till then I think it'll be a good idea to walk back to the last junction. No one's gonna be able to able to see us here."
"We could stop a passing bus and get in," Ali chips in.
"yeah right, you any bus passing by is gonna be speeding. you expect them to stop?"
"Any harm in trying?"
Ali tries being the daredevil and starts a curious jig in the middle of the road once he spots a bus. Didn't work.
9.30 and still no sign of any vehicle. We'd been stranded for about 30 mins by then. Finally another bus comes by. It's crowded but the guys force us in. Ria'd calmed down by then but was still pretty upset. Anyhow, she agreed to get in and the rest of the jouney was quite uneventful. Reached manglore at round 10.30. Yes the others did get quite a lecture. Me, well, I'm enjoying the advantages of living alone. If my parents ever find out i'm pretty sure they're gonna ban me from outstation trips, but then who's gonna tell them?;-)
Still, I enjoyed the new year.