Accident

Image from TopNews

It was the accident which the government had to take notice off. The world watched the response of the nation. The lives lost were not ordinary ones. Some of the most influential business men and politically connected men had died. After months of arrangement, a week of excellent stay, it was unfortunate that the nation had to see these deaths. The head of the state had not anticipated for this catastrophe. How could he?

The bus was moving at a pleasurable speed in the curvy road along the Alps. The summer had just set in. The Alps was in its glory days again. Small caps of the snow covered the peaks of the mountain range. The traffic was only from the security vehicles surrounding the bus. The other traffic had been deviated on the otherwise busy road connecting the Swiss towns.

The men had enjoyed their stay in the resorts. They had made some strategic business deals and relaxed with their families. It was time to say bye and join their workforce in their home nations. They were on the last stretch to board the chartered planes at the airport. Then the accident happened.
 
A rock came falling from the peak and crushed the bus. The rock had settled well. Parts of the bus and humans were thrown all over the place.  The road was red in blood. Within minutes helicopters were hovering around the place. Rescue teams arrived from all possible sides. All they could do was to move the rock away and put the pieces of the bodies in different bags.

Now the head of states met to discuss the aftermath of the accident. The main agenda was to come up with a plan so that such accidents would not happen again.

“The road is repaired now. But the damage has hit the traffic. People do not use the road any longer. The rail traffic has increased. They prefer to take the longer train than drive through the Alps. This has affected trade in the two towns. Lorries refuse to take the road. The damage is in the mind”, announced a minister.

“What was the reason for the disaster?” came a straight question.

The home minister stood - “Global warming!”.

Eye brows went up in surprise. It was anticipated by the minister.

He continued “The actual reason for the accident is indeed Global warming. Due to the excessive heat during the summers, the snow at the top of Alps melts. There are lots of rocks on those monstrous mountains, which are held together by snow. The snow is a glue. And they have remained bonded by this glue since centuries. Now because of global warming, the glue melts faster. The bonds between the rocks are gone. They crash down. And one such rock claimed the lives of those rich men.”  The reasoning made sense – to everybody.

“What next?”

“We need to control Global warming. This has been addressed several times. The measures are in place. To prevent such accidents, we should watch the rocks and the glue. And watch them always. Technology will help us. It’s big money and work, but helps. Put cameras on the mountains watching the stones. Automatically monitor the snow movements by comparing the photos of the previous days. Based on this, if there is a danger - close the roads for human traffic.”

After some more discussions the plan was approved. 

After implementation, there have been no accidents but the road was closed many times.

Ballot

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Since a month her husband came home drunk and without any money.

How could she run the family? It was just one woman earning that too as a housemaid. 2 children and a bedridden mother-in-law to be taken care.

She had seen many elections come and go. Nothing had changed her life. And never she had bothered to vote.

Her landlady had taught her a lesson in the last month. “Voting is everybody’s right. By voting the right candidate, everybody’s life would change. Including yours”, she had said.

Her husband had almost forgotten carpentry. Since the time the elections was announced, he stopped working for the furniture shop. He was now a campaigner.

He went to the “People party” office every morning. He held a flag in hand and went on a procession behind the party candidate to the villages. Shouting praises at times. Free food and free alcohol was up for grabs.

“A man would sacrifice anything for alcohol”, she thought.

Election day came. He had not got up. He had excessive alcohol the day before. She did not bother to wake him up.

She went to the polling booth to exercise her ballot for the first time in life. She remembered her landlady’s words – “Vote the right candidate”. In the queue, she met her friends and spoke to them about voting and shared her choice, even before voting.

As she went to cast her vote, she was clear with her choice – “Anybody other than People party.”

That night, her husband got up just in time for dinner. She had a victorious smile. A smile that showed that “People party” had missed the family’s 2 votes and some of her friends'.

Conspiracy

Salam Bhai,

Things are going according to our plan. We are all set for the D-day. India will shake. India will listen. And we will win. Months of effort will see fruits by year end. When we meet again in November, I have only good news to share. 2010 will be the year of resurgence for us.

Our British bhais have stuck to the task. It started with our agents bribing the organizing committee. Indians fell for it. I bribed a lot and sent them sub-standard material for their stadiums. But, I could not force our men into the venues. Security was very tight in India. That was when our master-brain came with this idea.

1. Our agents delayed the shipment of goods for the venues. Work lagged. Venues were not meeting deadlines. They are incomplete. Rains added to our joys. Leaks in the venues (partly because of our agents sub-standard goods) are creating panic in organizing committee.

2. I leaked the bribery stories to the Indian media. Indian media made big news out of this.

Bhai, I know that our agents will be caught. But a small sacrifice will help us in achieving the bigger motive.

Now all efforts of the Govt, is to make the games a success. They are covering up the bribery issues. They are working on fast pace to complete the venues on time. For this they have recruited more laborers. Some of these additional laborers are my men. Government has no time to do security check. And media is not capturing the security lapses. They are busy with the corruption scandal. So in one master move, I have removed 2 obstacles - media and security. Now it is our time.

My sources in Govt already told me that a mock security drill will be conducted at the venues. This drill will be done to impress the foreigners but there will be no serious security drill. They have no time for it.

On the day of opening ceremony, when the venues are full - the attack will happen.

The world would watch us. India will be shattered. What we did not achieve in South African world cup, we will achieve in India.

Shukriya,

Agent 617

Disclaimer –

This is purely a fiction. I wrote this before the Common Wealth Games, when media was exposing the corruption scandals surrounding the games.

My worst fear then, is described in the form of a letter. A letter by a terror agent to his boss. Boasting of his plot to derail Common Wealth Games 2010.

Double century

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He had no writing experience...apart from writing exams in the school and college.

After graduation he moved to an industry where writing meant typing. Key boards were the new pens. He wrote using key boards.

Unlike his academic study period, in the industry he wrote code. LOC, they called it. Lines of code.

Occassionally he started writing something called MoM. Minutes of Meeting. Why is it called minutes, when at time it took hours to write it?

As he gained experience in the industry, he wrote SpeDes. Specifications and Design. And now he realised that writing also meant drawing. They were the new drawing methodologies - Flow charts, sequence diagrams, class diagrams etc etc.

In the midst of all these, the only time he wrote about himself was during the performance talks. He then wrote, what is good about himself, what he wants to do in future, what he did in the past, what he learnt in the process of writing LOC, SpeDes, flow charts etc. He felt happy doing this. And he felt that he has to do this more often.

That was the period, he learnt a new word called BLOG. He realized that this is the space where he can express freely about himself and the surrounding world. He started writing blogs. And he kept them private. It was the space to put his thoughts through words or pictures or drawings. Being shy, he did not want the others to know what he thinks. But one fine day he exposed them, and wierdly for no specific reason.

Like many other interests, after a few days, he just stopped writing Blogs. This was again for no specific reason. Probably he concentrated his free time on some of his other interests like music, cinema, books and stocks.

Early 2010, he started writing Blogs again. This time very aggressively. Yet again, it was for no specific reason. He was encouraged by friends in this venture. As the year comes to close, he is celebrating his double century of blog entries in a year. Uff...nice feeling.

Error

Image source - Wikimedia

Eshwar was very happy after the exams. It was easy and he was sure to get 90% in all subjects. It was a result of his efforts during the entire year. His parents would get him a new bike if he cracked 90%. This was the bonus and probably the carrot thrown at him. 90% would also mean that he could get a seat in the top class college of the city.

The result day had finally come. Eshwar went to the school with all his friends. He collected the score-card from the teacher. Everything was as expected – 90+. But one subject was a disaster. Eshwar had scored 58 out of a maximum of 100 in English. He almost fell on his knees seeing this. He could not first react at this. His hopes of a new bike and a good college were all gone now.

Eshwar walked alone, back to his house. He opened the English question paper and declared to his parents that he had done well in English. “58 is an error…impossible”, he argued. His parents agreed because his other scores were very good.

Eshwar decided to apply for a re-evaluation of his English paper. He hoped that the error in checking would be rectified. After a month, a letter addressed to Eshwar came to his house. He knew that it was a letter from the evaluation team. As he read the letter, he screamed in joy. The error was rectified. His score was now a swap of the digits of 58 – 85.

Fake

Location – Village in the India – Bangladesh border
“This case has 200 thousand. 15 hundred worth genuine ones. All others fake. Printed in Pak. Specialized printing.  Commission is as usual. No negotiation. Kaka will deal this. Take it to Kolkata. Shipment in cow’s stomach! “
“ok! See you later.”

Location – Kolkata’s small butcher yard
 “Kaka’s stuff has arrived. 20 cows and 200 thousand in it. I want all tonight. 11 pm. Get it to Dadu’s store.”
“ok!”

Location – Kolkata’s Dadu store
“Counting is done sir. Master class print. Can’t trace. Pak guys are best in business.”
“ok, what next?”
“Dadu, shipment will go to Haryana’s Jiten bhai, Mumbai’s Karim babu, Hyderabad’s Kumar Khallu. All equal distribution.”
“Who takes it to them?”
“All experts. In train. Naresh, Usmaan & Govinda.”
“Commission?”
“8%?”
“ok”

Location – Mumbai – Karim Babu’s garage
“Karim saab, 65 thousand here. All Pak made. No error. New serial number. Special print. Dadu’s guarantee. “
 “Ok! Circulation will start today. South India full circulation. “
“Commission ?”
“Going in vacation to South India. After coming back will pay Dadu directly.”
“Ok, Karim saab” .

Location – Hampi – Tourist destination in South India
“Karim uncle, please get me that toy. “
“ok!”
Turning to the seller - “ What’s price? “
“100 Rs sir. “
“Give me 5 pieces. “ Hands over a 500 Rs note.
“Thanks sir! I Krishna. Me doing export business of toys. Any orders let me know. ”

Location – Hampi – Krishna’s garden
“Raghu, here is your monthly pay”
“Krishna sir, why 500 Rs note? Give change sir”
“No change, go to Bank for change!”
“Ok sir”

Location – Hampi – Bank of Bharat
“Sir, can I get change for 500Rs?”
“Yes Raghu, who gave you 500?”
“Monthly salary sir”
“This is fake note. Police can arrest you for this. Do not use this note”
“Sir, that’s the only money I have for month.”
“I don’t know Raghu. You can’t use this fake note. Fake notes cannot be used. You will be arrested. I will cut this note and burn it. ”
“Sir, no money for a month”

Bank official tore the note and marked the pieces as fake with marker pen.

Gift

Gowri opened the wrappers of the gifts. She was amazed at the huge collection of the dining sets and clocks that she had received for her wedding. If used, there would be clocks on all walls and tables. The couple could also eat in a new set of plates for an year. They decided to use it in a novel way!

It was Gautham's and Girija's day. Their wedding was a celebration. As they opened their gifts, one of them caught special attention of Gautham. It was the special clock he had bought from Germany, for Gowri's wedding. He looked at the message on the wrapper - "wishing you a happy married life - Gowri".

Goutham and Girija had a nice laugh, so did Gowri and her husband.

Hostel to Hospital

Hari was the super-boy of the hostel. He was the problem solver in the boys hostel of the college. Be it a light switch that was not working or the notice board announcements, the contact person was always Hari.

The hostel hosted 300 students in 4 floors. Hari was not among the students but was the boy who took care of the logistics in the hostel. Every student knew Hari and Hari knew each of them by name within a week of they joining the hostel.

Hostel day was nearing. This was the peak time for Hari's work. He was responsible for decoration, food, event management etc. Just before the D day, Hari was arranging the decoration lights for the hostel building from the terrace. He slipped and fell, right from top and crashed on the ground below.

Students gathered to see a bleeding but breathing Hari. There was no ambulance in the institution and the nearest hospital was 5kms away. After around 15 mins of waiting, students took over. An entourage of bikes started from the hostel. On one of them, there were 3 people, including a bleeding Hari. On the way to the hospital, Hari breathed his last.

Students approached the institution to set up a health complex within the hostel campus. The institution obliged. A small first aid center with a doctor was set up. A 24/7 ambulance was also introduced. They named it Hari ambulance service. "Even in death, a good man serves society", the students thought.

PS - This is based on a true incident in a college. A tribute to a friend of mine.

Intelligence

Amma*: its ok putta, just for one day
Putta: no amma, I cannot be without underwear.
Amma: tomorrow you can wear..see its raining, your underwear has not dried.
Putta: I will wear the black one.
Amma: its not dry putta. I got only 2 to uncle's house and both are wet. And you are 3 yrs old. Its ok not to wear underwear.
Putta: then I will not take bath.
Amma: ok, I will put your underwear on the boiler**. It will dry because of the heat caused by water heating.
Putta: ok.

After sometime...
Amma: what happened to the underwear on the boiler?
Putta: its inside the boiler.
Amma: who put it inside?
Putta: me. Uncle told me that its very hot inside the boiler. So the underwear will dry faster.

Though Amma scolded Putta for this. As an afterthought she appreciated 3 yrs old Putta's intelligence.

*Amma - mother is referred to as Amma in Kannada language.
**Boiler - its a closed water container, with a lid at the top(acting as the input) and a tap at the bottom(acting as the output). It has an electrical coil to heat the water inside.

Juxtaposition

"Juxtaposition - an act or instance of placing close together or side by side, esp. for comparison or contrast.", wrote the teacher on board. She added that this is the theme for next assignment.

Little Akshar noted it down. The next period was library visit. He read the newspapers of the week. This was his regular habit during his weekly library period. At the end of this visit, his assignment was complete.

Akshar pasted the picture of an Indian politician, hoisting the Indian national flag.
Below the picture, Akshar wrote
"Our national flag is a symbol of national sentiments. The green represents prosperity. The white represents peace. Saffron shows courage. The wheel at the center indicates progress. This flag is being hoisted by a politician whose values are exactly the opposite. He sold all the forests for exporting precious trees, removing the greenery. He is a rowdy with several cases against him with police for blowing peace away. His displays all his courage in being stubbornly corrupt and in mercilessly supporting blood bath. He also sees the wheel as currency coins and makes money for himself. This is a perfect example of juxtaposition."

Key

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"Key to success" - Kitty wondered at the location of the book. He got into flash back mode immediately.

Kitty's clear key to success was money. He wanted mansions, cars and hi-style living status. This was his definition of success. For all this money was the key. He used his official power and status to give contracts to ineligible candidates at a cost. Made a land bank for himself in a posh locality of the city. For sometime he enjoyed the fruits of his success mantra.

Time started moving slowly and even went in reverse. Sleuths investigated into his assets and the asset making mechanism.

Flash back was cut short by the voice on the speaker. Free time was over. Kitty walked back from library to his cell, as he heard the key jam the prison lock behind him.

Light

Kid packing crackers - Source

The teacher had explained the significance of Deepawali. Sonu was very attentive in the class during the entire explanation. He learnt about Lord Rama’s return to his home town. He also learnt about the death of evil Narakasura. He was happy to learn something new today. He already thought of telling this tale to his mother in the night. 

The teacher then showed pictures of children making crackers in the dingy factories, breathing poisonous chemicals. She explained the ill-effects of bursting crackers. The pollution aspects and the harmful effects on animals moved Sonu.  Sonu decided not to burst the crackers during this Deepawali. 

In the evening, Sonu explained his streets friends about the effects of crackers. The kids around him were also motivated and decided not to burst crackers. Sonu (thanks to his teacher) had lead a mini revolution in the area.

Diwali night came. The kids of the street met along and played in the road. There were no crackers. Like Sonu’s parents, the other elders of the street, lit diyas and decorated the houses with flowers.

Sonu and his friends made paper lanterns and hung it in front of the houses. It was light and only light all over the place.

During the play Sonu ventured into the neighboring road. There was a flash and Sonu fell down. It was a cracker that struck him on his eyes.

The boy who had brought light to the street by his teachings, now has a new teacher. She teaches him Braille. Light faded into darkness.

Murder - a short story

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The real estate king was murdered. In broad daylight. 1 day ago. And still no clue about the killer. The police department resorted to their last life line. Detective Munna.

Munna had never failed. He had a track record of all cases solved in short time. Some appreciated his brilliance, but most thought that he was lucky to resolve the cases.  Whatever be it, he would save the face of the police, thought Inspector Mahesh.

As Munna sat in the chauffeur driven car, he looked into the details of the victim, Maran alias Macha. Maran was a successful real estate agent in the booming city of Mangalore. The business involved lot of deals which cannot be exactly called legal. Black money flew in from all places including underworld. Bigger the money involved, bigger was the risk. Maran had friends and foes in the business. Maran’s recent & future business deals ran into pages. Detective Munna knew that every other real estate agent could be a suspect.
Maran was a widower. His family had died in the Tsunami in Chennai. Maran image was clean without any affairs. Detective Munna mentally eliminated a family angle to murder. He stayed alone in the big fort he had built for himself. 

Munna reached the spot of crime. It was raining. It was the bungalow of Maran. Huge was a small word to describe it. A 20 ft wall surrounded the house, like a fort. A lush green lawn welcomed him. The fort had one big gate and was well guarded. Munna sat next to the drawing where the body was found – in the garden. The garden was adjacent to the lawn which paved way to the main door of the house. Maran was shot by a single bullet, right in the forehead. A blood soaked newspaper was in dead body’s hand when the police arrived. The police were informed of the murder by the Maran’s personal security guards. The guards and the personal cook were under investigation by the police. But Inspector Mahesh was on the verge of giving a clean chit to all of them.

Munna walked around the house. The house had 2 doors. The main door was on the east and another door on the north. The door on the north opened to a tennis court. There was a huge verandah for business meetings. Then a bigger hall. There were 5 fully furnished rooms. There was ample space for parking the cars. Munna mentally made note that the house was fully vastu compliant. Munna quickly glanced the property documents seized by the police. Nothing enthused him.

The detective decided to walk around the locality of the house. Small houses surrounded this bungalow. The roads were narrow. “Typical of a middle class locality”, Munna thought. There were a few small shops but no major mall around. As Munna spoke to a few local people, he found that Maran was loved by one and all.  As it was raining, Munna came back to his car and was driven back to his office.

Early next morning, Munna drove himself to Maran’s house. It was bright and sunny and the detective could spend more time today. Munna made quick notes as he entered the lawn. He called the guard and asked a few questions.  He observed things till 10 am and then made a few phone calls. In a couple of hours, Munna called Inspector Mahesh  and told Mahesh that the murder mystery was solved and the police can start with the arrests.

In the evening, inspector Mahesh called and confirmed that the case was solved. Munna was happy.

Next evening Mahesh and Munna met over tea. Mahesh thanked and appreciated Munna. He asked for an explanation. Munna explained his thought process.

“When I arrived in the morning, the Sun was in the east. And was burning the main door of the house. But the door had not lost its sheen. This was not typical. Typically the Sun rays fade out the polish of the door, especially if it strikes directly. I checked with the guard if the doors were newly polished. He said no. Further probing lead me to the fact that there were huge trees on the road opposite to the house. The shade of the trese protected the door from the eastern Sun.  The tree was chopped down for road expansion purpose. And the tree was chopped on the same day of the murder. I read the post mortem report carefully and found that the bullet had struck Maran at an angle. I checked with the civic office on who had the contract to chop down the trees. I got the name and did a background check. It was the same man from whom Maran had snatched a big business deal recently. Then I called you to arrest and further investigate the contractor. You confirmed that the contractor had hired a sharp shooter to kill Maran”.

Once again detective Munna had saved the face of the police.

 

Need

Raj was on the way back from office. It was a 25km drive for him. And sadly this drive in his car could take around 2 hrs. The unpredictable city traffic and the frequent signals could add another 30 mins to his travel time. Some of the traffic junctions would take 20 mins for clearance. He cursed his bad luck and his inappropriate office timing. "The need of the hour was good broad roads and flyovers", Raj thought.

Today was no different. There was traffic jam at the junction. Looking at the distance between him and the signal, Raj guessed that he would have to wait for 20 mins in this junction. He opened his bag and found a banana to eat. This was a regular habit. This would satisfy his need for food.

As he peeled the banana, he saw a face and a heard a knock on his car window. It was a beggar boy, pleading for some money. He looked like he was around 6 to 8 yrs old. Raj hated the beggars. The boy made a sad face and pleaded for something. He indicated that he was hungry. Raj knew these tactics of the beggars. But today, he felt bad to eat the banana in front of the beggar kid. Raj lowered the window glass and gave the banana to the beggar boy. The boy smiled and ran with his hands up in the air. It was like the boy had won the world cup. Raj thought that the boy really needed something to eat. Raj smiled at himself.

A few minutes later as Raj's car strolled in the junction, he saw the boy again. Boy had a baby on his lap, and was sitting on the pavement. The boy was feeding the baby with the banana, Raj had given. Curiously, Raj asked the beggar boy who the baby was? With a big smile on the face, the boy said "my small sister. She was hungry and needed food. So I am feeding her the banana".

Raj was speechless.

Operation

The 3 were chosen by their leader for the operation. They were the 3 musketeers of the group. Never had they failed as a team.

This mission was nothing special. The spy team had informed about the arrival of the new bounty in the old man's house. The operation was to steal the new bounty.

The 3 went about their routine. Night time was the best chance. They visited the old man's house in the night. Found that the doors and windows were locked. this was not new and they had faced similar problems in previous operations. But never had they damaged the doors to barge in.

Next day, the specialist, agile agent went into the house through the main door when the old man was buying vegetables. The agent studied the house plan and the potential areas of where the bounty could be. The agent knew that he had to get out of the house before the old man was back. He did just that.

With the plan of the house clearly etched in mind, they now had to attack. Loitering outside the house and waiting for a chance to enter the house, the 3 kept a close eye on the old man. The chance came sooner than expected. The old man went to the terrace to dry the clothes, leaving the door open. The agents quickly entered the house. One took position at the entrance to manage the old man, if he comes in before the operation is over. The other 2 went in search of the bounty. The sight of the yellow shine brought a twinkle in the agents eyes. The bounty was found. Operation success, as they walked out of the house before the old man arrived back.

As the old man realized yet another theft of his cheese, the 3 rats presented the bounty to their leader to garner applause.

Prison

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"Why am I prison?", she pondered.

Beauty? She had a feather smooth skin. She had lips which was covered by red lipstick. Was this the reason to be in prison?

Quick learner? She can quickly learn things. Uniquely speak well. Was this the reason to be in prison?

Seek food? She liked mango. When the mango garden was full of ripe mangoes, what's wrong with having one? Is it correct to be hit by stone and called a thief for one fruit? Was this the reason to be in prison?

Now in prison. What kind of prison is this? I cannot stretch my body. Cannot eat food of my choice. Have to curb my natural instincts. And most importantly cannot fly like my fellow parrots, kissing the sky.

Queue

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He was one of the last few in the long queue. He could not see the start of the queue. It would be a long wait, he guessed.

He knew all about queues. He had waited for 12 years in a queue. After 12 yrs, when he was first in that queue, the job was done in 5 seconds. The wait was boring.
 

He pondered if this wait is also boring and the final event would last seconds or hours.
After some hours, came his turn - he stood in front of Almighty. 

There was one straight question "do you repent for what you did?"
He said "yes".
"Explain".
"I have given my explanation in the court", he replied.
"Answer me. I know everything that has happened, but want to see it in your eyes".

"He had cheated me and my wife. He grabbed the land which was our livelyhood. He threw us into poverty. My wife died because I had no money to treat her. The idiot dint show mercy or humanity during our tough times. After my wife's death, there was no purpose in life. I went to the idiot's house and hacked him to death. I used his gun to shoot down in his wife. Then I surrendered to the police. The court ordered death sentence to me..after 12 yrs in the queue of death sentence, I was hanging by the rope. Dear God, Now I am here in front of you."

"You said you repent for what you did, why?"

"Lord, after I shot the idiot's wife, there were 4 bullets left in the gun. I knew that my surrender to police meant my surrender to death. I repent for surrendering to police. I had to wait in the queue for death. That was an unproductive waste of time. I repent for not shooting myself to death with the same Gun. I could have reached you earlier."
"Case dismissed - put him into hell" Almighty answered.

Lord laughed and tried to see the end of queue before him. Lord could not and called the next person in queue.

Rain Race

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Roopa used all her energy to run faster. The race was with potential rain. The one carried by, in the thick black blanket of clouds over her. She hated this race.

It was a special day for her. She was meeting her potential husband, Ravi  in a restaurant in the evening. For this she wore her best and favorite dress. She had ironed it in the morning. Stood in front of the mirror for 15 mins, adjusting the crease of the dress. She had managed to retain most of the iron in the office, by seating in a proper way. As she left office early to catch a taxi, the clouds scared her. She feared getting wet and started running. Even during the run, she maintained her dress well.
Finally a smile escaped from her lips when she reached the restaurant just before rain Gods opened up.

Roopa sat next to a window watching the rain and waiting for Ravi. She was early. And proud of beating the rain. Expecting Ravi to come in a car, she adjusted her dress again. 10 mins later, there was a tap on her shoulders. She turned to hear "Roopa? I am Ravi."
She saw a man, soaked in water, dripping from all places with the wet shirt sticking to the toned body.

This time Roopa laughed out loud. Not sure if she laughed at the looks of Ravi or laughed at a loser. A loser who lost the race against rain.

Sing - Short story

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Narayana was from a family of musicians. His grandfather, Rama Rao was a renowned violin player.  Rama Rao had performed in front of the then king. Pleased with Rama Rao’s talent, the king set up a prize in Rama Rao name for the bright young musician of the year. Rama Rao award gained reputation and every Deepawali the winner of a competition would receive this from the king himself.

Narayana’s father, Gopal Rao was no less a musician. The flute artist had many cassettes and CDs of his concerts. Gopal had performed in the smallest of street pandals to the big music halls of western countries. Gopal had also won many awards including the President’s music honor.

Narayana Rao had music in his blood. But modern day life made him give it a second or third priority. His childhood holidays were spent in best seats of the best musical houses of the world, watching his grandpa and father perform. He learnt classical music but ignored it in the rat race called academic exams. He excelled in his academic studies and became an Engineer. He started working as a software engineer in a big company.

Rama Rao and Gopal always wanted their family’s traditional torch to be carried on. Rama Rao had once told his grandson of his desire – To watch Narayana perform on stage. Narayana also had the desire to do his bit in music. He had a good voice and had learnt the basics of classical music.

It was the company’s festival party time. Narayana decided to sing a song on the festival day. He practiced hard under the guidance of his father. His grandfather was now old and was bed ridden. On the party day, Narayana finally sang for the first time on stage. The 5000+ audience clapped their hands full. Tears came down his eyes. The experience of singing on stage and receiving ovation was overwhelming.

Narayana showed the video recording of his singing performance to his granddad. After the song got over, there was tears in Rama Rao’s eyes.  Tears of satisfaction of holding up the musical tradition.

Taste

She: what's up?
He: reading newspaper. What u doing?
She: in the new mall. Nice tops available. Cheap. Buying a few. What's your fav color?
He: blue
She: I buy a blue now. Mall is nice.
He: I am not a mall guy..enjoy.
_______________________________
He: blore is cool today. What's up at u'r place?
She: Chennai is hot.
He: I plan to go to new Tarantino movie today.
She: Hmm, oh..I don't watch english movies. Bollywood romance is super.
He: same story, same fights..can't watch those.
She: yeah, but...enjoy.
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She: its pouring in chennai. Missed my gym even today.
He: what gym sym and all. Eat and enjoy..and when it pours in Chennai, it drizzles in Bangalore.
She: lazy you..always eat. I will put u on diet after wedding. What are your plans for evening?
He: good football and F1 on tv.
She: how boring! Read books. Grisham's new one is gripping. Will finish it today.
He: news paper is the only thing I can read..who is Grisham? And nothing can be more gripping than manu chelsea match.
She: hmm..can't convince you..enjoy and love u.
He: love u too..bye
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As he recollected these SMS conversations with his wife (before marriage), he realized that 8 yrs of married life has ensured one thing. Like their tastes are unique, their partnership is also unique...both have a thing in common..endurance.

Celebrations

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 16; the sixteenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

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The blast was intense. Right at their doorstep. The house was burst open. Hundreds died on the spot. Few survivors ran in different directions and never again met their family members. No newspaper reported it as the anthill was bombed.

The Bats coughed from the trees but that went unheard. The mother pigeon saw that its new born hatch had a deformed leg, and was unable to stand. Little did it know that there was rampant Lead poisoning over the last few days. The bigger pigeon wasn't able to locate the grains to feed, in the market streets. Pieces of paper covered the place.

The dogs ganged up to discuss the mitigation plan. It was the 4th reported burn of the evening. They ran out of ideas. Hiding in gutters was the last resort.

The calf's moo could not be heard by mom cow. Calf's stomach had to wait longer for mother's milk. Milk man had extracted milk till the last drop from mom to meet the high demand.

On the ground, humans celebrated yet another Deepawali blasting crackers at will and eating sweets.

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

Umbrella

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When you are 3 years old, lot of things done are first time in your life. It was no different for little Chintu. He was over excited opening the umbrella of his late grandpa. The old umbrella was as long as himself. It was not like the new age umbrellas. There was no button to open it. An accurate push up of the hollow cylinder, circling the center rod, opened the wide black umbrella. After lot of help from granny, Chintu opened it. He ran all over the house to celebrate this.

The umbrella was used by grandpa as a walking stick. He carried it with pride to the local market and used it as a shade from sun and rain. Age had taken toll over the umbrella. There were holes in the cloth that made the shade. Cockroaches had made a quick meal of it in the attic, after grandpa's death.

The umbrella was discovered when emptying the house. Chintu would move to a new home in a week. As part of the shifting efforts, the attic was cleaned and hence Chintu experienced the joy. It was his new toy.

Chintu's dad decided that the umbrella was another scrap which has to be thrown. Many of Chintu's old toys were not to be taken to the new house. But Chintu protested the scrapping of his new toy. Dad vetoed and kept the umbrella outside the house as a scrap.

Chintu was sad but like most 3 year olds, he quickly forgot and adopted to play with his regular toys.

Next day, as Chintu's family was moving to the new home in their car, the kid observed a surprising thing on the pavement. It was raining. A small slum kid was sitting on the pavement with a street dog under the old umbrella, hence not getting wet. Chintu showed this to his granny. Both smiled at each other as their car moved on.

Victim - Her story



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She came to the city after consecutive years of draught that had left the agricultural land useless. Useless – unfit to grow anything. She was a victim of the nature’s fury. Some said that she was a victim of fate.

New to the city life. With less than 500 bucks in pocket, her husband went in search of job and food to feed the hungry kid. Finally got a job as a construction worker. They lived in a bus-stop for some days. Then moved in to the building where the construction was on.

They were happy. They had enough to feed. It was better than the village life.

Probably the crane operator was drunk. Probably the crane was not working well. She could not decide. Or even think about the reason. Who could, in her situation? She was sitting in front of the crushed bodies of her husband and kid. The concrete block of the crane had snapped and crushed them to death. Murder? Accident? These never crossed her mind. She became a victim of accident. Or fate again.

Her only thought was – What next? Suicide? Probably yes. But she was not alone. She had a 3 month fetus within her waiting to come to earth. She decided to live.

She went back to the native village. Govt had decided to acquire the land in her village for a dam construction nearby. The village would no longer be a residential colony after this dam. She was not sure if it was good or bad. On one hand, she would lose the land and on the other, she would get compensation. But there was actually no choice. Government paid the compensation and a piece of land in nearby town to build a house.

As she got a small house built for herself in the relief money, the baby was born. Town gave her enough opportunities for employment. She started working as a maid in a big house. Life was back to normal.

Near her native village, the dam construction was in full swing. Earth shook near the town at times due to the blasts. One (not so) fine day, the earth shook more than usually did. The richter scale later showed it as 7.0. Buildings collapsed. People died. Her baby was sleeping in her saree converted into a bed when the earthquake struck. Roof collapsed on it. She managed to survive. She was again a victim of nature’s fury or fate…it was not relevant again.

With no hope to survive, she started her walk to native village. 20 kms she walked and jumped into the gushing river which she blamed for her changed life.

Inspired from a real story.

Watch - Short story

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Reena saw the time. She had to reach the office in an hour. The bus stand was crowded. But there was no signs of any bus. It was time for the peak hour rush.

Around 5 mins later, the crowded bus arrived. Reena saw the time by her watch. She could not afford to miss this one. As she tried to squeeze throw the crowd in the bus, her watch rubbed across the metal door of the bus. She heard the screeching sound even in the huge buzzing traffic noise around her.  She managed to see the scratch. It was deep. Even in glass fully covered by small scratches, Reena identified the new scratch. She remembered the day her dad gifted this watch. It was in class 8 when she got rank 1. 12 years ago. Having been emotionally attached to it, Reena got bit upset but forgot about it in the rush of the bus.

It was her destination. As she got down from the bus, she checked the time. The watch was missing. She could not even search for it in the crowded bus.

She felt miserable all day. Time had stood still. Work was not progressing and her watch was reminding her about her school days, love for parents, fear of losing more etc etc . She thought that belt had snapped and there would have been a stampede on the watch.

It was evening when she decided not to take the bus that day. She started her walk back to home. In the market area a street kid came to her selling watches – imported aunty, all foreign brands, take it very cheap…Hesitantly Reena saw the kids arms.

Her watch was one of the many he had. The scratch on the watch was a clear indication of her watch. Not knowing how to react, she asked the kid “where did you find this watch?” Unsuspecting kid’s practiced answer was “Foreign, aunty”.

She was about to say liar, thief but stopped & asked the cost of the watch. The bargain was done and the watch was in her hands again.

Xerox - Short story

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Time was running out. 3 days to go for the close of the contest. The topic was absurd. Robin wanted to win. Desperate to win and show his girlfriend, Sheela that he is indeed creative.  

He remembered Sheela’s words – “Robin, none of your work is good. The college art department has rejected each one of your essays. Stories are pathetic. You are in a wrong department. Do not pursue creative writing. It’s not your game.“

The pressure to write a creative story within the short span of time on an abstract topic and more importantly win, was getting on to his nerves.

Finally Robin had an idea. He went to Google and typed in the abstract prompt. Jumped on to the 20^th page. Read a couple of articles and his story was ready. Robin was sure that nobody could catch his copycat act. “Why would anybody read the 20^th page of a Google search?” he thought. He patted himself for his creative thought.

A couple of weeks after the submission of the story, the results were out. Robin & Sheela watched the announcement in the college auditorium. His hopes were fading when his name was not in the top 3. But a big smile ensued on Robin’s and Sheela’s face when the jury announced the special award for Robin.  

Victoriously Robin walked towards the stage when his smile started to fade hearing the award citation.  

The best copycat award – an old scrapped Xerox machine goes to Robin.

Y for Yes...

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Mom told dad "let's have a family" - yes was the answer. I was born after a few months.

Dad asked me "will you go to the big school? Its good" he added. Yes, and I was in school.

Grand pa asked "will you carry the musical tradition of our family?" Yes, and I started drums.

Mom said "my son has to become an engineer". Yes, and I joined the engineering college.

Friend in college said "why don't you start smoking? Its a stress buster". Yes, and I became a smoker.

Girlfriend asked "Will you marry me?". Yes and we were husband and wife.

Company asked me "will you work on project Serb?" Yes, and I landed in an unknown territory.

Wife asked "Shall we have kids?". Yes and I became father.

Kid asked "can you take me to a circus?" Yes and I was watching funny antics.

Doctor said "there is a cancer in liver. Stage 4. Can you get admitted to hospital. Cannot cure but will reduce pain". Yes and hospital became my home.

Nurse asked "cancer pains a lot. Shall I give you another painkiller?" Yes and the pain reduced.

I asked myself "Should I live this life of pain and burden?" NO ... But nobody cared for this answer. 

I had realized that the world wants a YES.

Zombie deaths

Rick called the infamous sorcerer and gave him the contract. It was to eliminate his business rival Mr. Micky. Micky's recent acquisition spree had thrown Rick into big debts.

The sorcerer went on his mission. Micky was looking for a new driver and one of the Zombie controlled by the sorcerer got the job.

The Merc carrying Micky to his office was on a smooth drive. The Zombie suddenly turned the car when there was no road to do it. The crash against the school wall was fatal. Micky died on the spot.

The bold headlines of next day newspaper -
Micky dies in a freak accident
Rick's 10 year school kid also dies in the accident

Zombie was smiling at his double kill.
The sorcerer was happily counting his money.