Lost Hues.

The silhoutes and shapes were speaking to me from below. Each one whispering a different tale. I was straining to find my own tale hidden between those layers of stories. I was flying, soaring among clouds looking for my feathers hidden between those cotton wisps. I met my story all in pastels unlike those vibrant, sprkly fables I saw earlier. Where were my colours?

Saakshyaa.

The story did not begun the day I first spotted her on the isolated bench of the central park, fidgeting with a shriveled neem twig. She was definitely waiting for someone, the way she craned her neck every now and then made it evident. Everything screamed “average” about her, the simple lemon yellow kurta, beige floaters and thin gold chain around her slender but middle aged neck. The only thing which struck odd to me was a sparkly platinum ring brilliantly adorning her finger. The writer in me instigated me to have a conversation with her, to build a story around her greying , wispy flicks and to conjure a character based on the out of place ring. But the story did not begun that day.

The story began when I spotted her again on the same bench, wearing same kurta , same floaters and same expensive ring. She was scanning the crowd again, though not in an anxious way. I wouldn’t have recognized her had she not wore the same semblance. I don’t know it was my writers’ instinct or the feminine one , but I knew those eyes had a story hidden behind them.

“Hello! I have often seen you in this park. You live nearby?”

“No, no I live in Dadar west.”

“That’s too far to travel to visit such a lame park.” I joked.

She smiled , actually a wisp of a smile.

“Five years ago, this used to be a pretty sight. Cut out bushes, dog-flower lined pavements and jamun trees.”

“Five years??? You have been coming here since then?” I couldn’t hide the question in my voice.

“I just come here on 2^nd of every month.”

“ Any specific reason?” I prodded.

“Why do you want to know?” she asked, again with a sliver of a smile.

“ Curiosity.” I lied.

“I hope you are not looking for a story or some inspiration.”

“How on earth…..”  I was interrupted in mid of the sentence by a full ear to ear grin, followed by a hearty laughter.

“You think I hadn’t noticed you with your oversized writers’ bag, that writing pad and pen, observing everyone keenly.”

“Okay! I promise I will not write a story, but now honestly the curiosity is killing me.”

“I will tell you the story, its been ages I shared this with any one, but only if you promise to write a story and tell it to the world.”

It was my turn to be taken aback by this sincere request from a simple yet mysterious woman. The story which followed was straight out of some classical romance novel and wrenched my heart along with making me fall in love with love again. I hereby tell it you people keeping my promise.

                                               ************************************

Saakshyaa had no plans of relocating to Mumbai from her cozy hometown but life has uncanny ways of teaching you the things you never want to learn in the first place. She was having a hard time adjusting to the crowd, the language, the food, and most important the locals. Twice she boarded the wrong train and missed her interviews, once she fell on board and multiple times abused by the ladies for blocking the door.

One such sweaty and confusing afternoon she was stranded on Thane station, struggling to figure out her interview location when she bumped into a guy wearing larger than life headphones. She broke her spectacles and along with that her composure too. In no time big fat drops of tears were falling from her eyes as she tried to gather her strewn papers and broken spects. The guy she bumped into was apologizing profusely but she knew she had no chance of getting to that interview in time and without her spects . Saakshyaa has had enough and was already planning to return to her home, forgetting about the interview. She desperately wanted those unfaithful tears to stop before a stranger, but they were as adamant as her misfortune with the interviews.

“Mam, Im really sorry, I wasn’t looking straight, I didn’t mean to bump into you.”

“Its absolutely OK , its not your fault, I wasn’t looking either.”

“You sure you will manage without your spects? Shall I accompany you to wherever you were going?”

“Now listen , Mr. Biggest-headphones-I-Have-seen, just because I didn’t say anything doesn’t mean you can hit on me. I know these tactics very well. So kindly mind your own business.”

“Okay, okay I get it, but seeing the thickness of your glasses and seeing you blink like that Im pretty sure you will not reach anywhere without getting one or two injuries. But if you don’t want my help, its okay.”

Saakshyaa wanted to retort, something cruel, sarcastic but realizing her petty and helpless state all she did was shed some more tears.

“Listen, I have nowhere important to go, I can take you to home, office or wherever you want to go, and I promise I will not ask your phone no or mail id.” he said with a sheepish grin.

Saakshyaa has had enough of trial and error and for the first time after the painful incident in her past which propelled her to relocate to the city of dreams, she trusted her instincts. She not only asked the stranger his name which was Haamid but also took the liberty of asking him to accompany her to the interview. Apparently Haamid was going in the same direction and accompanied her, not to the company but to the interview room, thanks to her poor vision. Moments later a joyous and bubbly Saakshyaa emerged from the room confirming the fact that she got the job. For Haamid , it was love at first sight when he saw her rare ear to ear smile. She was a complete change from the sobbing, doleful Saakshyaa he met earlier. Haamid didn’t ask her phone no, for she herself gave it to him, calling him her good luck charm. Saakshyaa found a faithful friend in Haamid who not only taught her about locals, but also showed every nook and corner of Mumbai. Haamid was falling in love oblivious to Saakshyaa’s traumatic past and Saakshyaa was oblivious of Haamids feelings for her. It could have gone like that, it should have gone like that, but fate has to play an upper hand and it did.

Haamid was a struggling musician who played gigs for survival but was waiting for a big break which he got. He was selected to compose background score for a documentary being shot in South Africa by discovery channel. The only glitch in the dream like story was the fact that he had to accompany the crew to Africa for 6 months. It took every ounce of courage Haamid had to buy the platinum ring he was eyeing for his proposal.

He called up Saakshyaa to the central park where most of their post work time was spent.

“Hey, that’s a really cheap treat for a musician working for discovery you know.” She chirped.

“I promise I will make up for that. But first I have something Important to discuss.”

“No, I will not call you on ISD, and will definitely not look after your house while you are gone.”

“Can you be serious just for a while?”

“Okay, okay grumpy go ahead, tell me.”

“Saakshyaa, since the day I met you on Thane station where you were as lost as a deer in town I have been in love with you, I haven’t seen any girl who looks as adorable with spects as you do, I haven’t seen any girl who hands out candies to the beggars on traffic signals , I haven’t seen any girl who can tolerate my nonsense musical gibberish for so long and I am sure I will never see such a girl. I don’t know what you feel about me but all I know is I love you and I will love you for the rest of my life.”

With this stunning declaration he produced the ring on which he spent every penny he saved. He was hoping, rather praying for Saakshyaa to accept the ring. But fate had to have an upper hand and it did.

“Do you know any thing about me or my past Haamid? Do you know Why I came to Mumbai leaving my hometown? Do you know why I never talk about my family ever? No Haamid you know nothing about me . The day I came to Mumbai was the day I was supposed to get married , to a guy chosen by my mom and dad, the guy I fell in love with on my engagement , the guy who was supposed to protect me from the world, the guy who was in a live in relationship even after our engagement and when I confronted him all he said was he was marrying me for the sake of his parents and I had no choice but to marry him. I had an easy choice of marrying him and spending the rest of my life in a loveless marriage or to defy my family and live on my own terms. I haven’t trusted any one since then, but you coz I thought you care as a friend, but seems I was wrong. You belong to the same creed of men who can not see a girl as any thing but a marriageable asset. I refuse to be one.”

All her pent up aggression, her anger came crashing down like a thunderbolt on unsuspecting Haamid. He was too stunned to defend her flawless love for her, he wanted to tell her he was not at all like that scoundrel fiancé of hers who couldn’t see the innocence in those bespectacled eyes, he wanted to scream that he will never ever lay eyes on any other girl, but seeing Saakshyaa shivering with rage and hurt all he could do was to place the ring next to her.

“Im leaving On 3^rd of December and I will wait for you on 2^nd here on this same bench. Everyone is not alike , and I petty that man who didn’t see the brilliance and innocence of yours. If you come I promise I will never let you cry again , ever. Goodbye.”

That was the last Saakshyaa saw of Haamid, she never went to the park on 2^nd, for she was sure she didn’t love him. If only she had known that she wouldn’t be able to survive one day without him she would have gone, if only she had known she was having the most clichéd confusion of lovers being friends, she would have gone. But the realization came late and she lost Haamid.

                                                   *********************************

I didn’t realize I was crying profusely, uncontrollably and it was Saakshyaa who was wiping those tears off my face . If fate could be so cruel this was a living proof of that.

Since that day saakshyaa had come to this forgotten park on every 2^nd of the month, in a vain hope of finding love again. She even wears the same suit so that Haamid would recognize her despite the greys. The ring proudly adorns her finger like benediction of her lost love. That is her Day of love.

As far as Im concerned, Im still trying to find Haamid through the discovery channel and internet, may be if I get Saakshyaa her love back I might find my day of love. Promise me you all will try finding Haamid, and if you do tell him his love will be waiting for him on that park bench.

                                                   ***********************************
P.s.This post is written for Indibloggers contest Platinum Day of love.

Irony

It was her suitcase, the peculiar purple, with a hand made patchwork. It had to be hers. Saksham eyed the pretty suitcase on conveyor belt at delhi airport. 13 years have passed since he last saw Varsha. Suddenly two young hands picked up the bag. He was mistaken.
Kriti dropped the suitcase and hugged Varsha,as Varsha tried to wipe the tears and focus on her daughters chatter. She was sure it was Saksham.

and then there were none..

                                                             

This post has won the silver baton for Blog-a-Ton 36; the 36th 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. The theme for the month is "and then there were none"

I have no clue so as to where I am. The visions started flashing few hours earlier.  The feeling in my left hand and foot is completely vanished and along with it the excruciating pain which I had when my car skidded and toppled several times before it finally hit the ice-clad rocks. They say you start remembering your loved ones when you face the reaper, did I have any loved ones?? The fact that I was upside down had caused a rush of blood to my head. My seat belt which was supposed to protect me had turned on me and held me captive in that painful position as if it was punishing me for my sins..

                                                                        ……………..

“Niraj, beta listen to me, your dad doesn’t want you to leave home for your own good. We have a good shop running and after your dad you will handle it. Please don’t go.” Pleaded my mom.

“Maa, I am nothing like dad and I don’t want to run some low life shop for the rest of my life. I have big dreams and you people are suffocating me. Let me go or I’ll end my life.”

                 

                                                                       ……………….                  

                                           

I never looked back after leaving home, I don’t know whether my parents are alive or not. My mom, who did not eat without me at dinner table, who fought with my dad to fulfill my dreams, my mom whom I left heartlessly to rot without me. I can see her across the street, through my shattered wind screen. She is still same, she still puts that typical Marathi Chandra-bindi, she still smells of cumin seeds which she used in every dish. Is she for real? I cant tell..earlier I was sure they are hallucinations one experiences before death, not any more..

                                                                        ……………… 

The  blood is trickling down my head on to steering wheel, funny it reminds me of the municipal tap right outside our chawl. I never had any sense of humor when I was fine, I guess the proximity to death plays havoc with your brain, I’m  remembering all these funny anecdotes while I was in college..

                                                                            ……………….              

“Niraj, you have got to watch the movie, we all are going.pleeeeaaaaseee.” chirped Roli, the love of my life in college.

“Leave him Roli, he probably has to think how to earn money while watching movie.”

“Niraj, if you continue your weird and whacky ways I will leave you and never come back.”

“You can go, when I will have money, I will get anyone I want, even you will come back.” I sneered.

                                                                               ……………..

She never came back, Roli, the only girl in college who didn’t smirk when I went to college on a Avon  bicycle, Roli the only girl who loved me when  I didn’t even have money, Roli, the only girl who loved me ever…last I heard she got married to some middle class nerd. Lucky bastard..he gets to see Roli in morning when she is as fresh as dew, he gets to kiss her tears away, he gets to breathe the lavender talc she was so fond of. It could have been me..oh lord!! Thank you I can see her,there she is wearing her red kurti which I bought her after saving for months. She is smiling…no she is mocking at my helpless state.

“you deserve this Niraj, for abandoning all your loved ones”, she says.

 God why is she whispering like a banshee…or may be my ears have stopped working. The seat belt is cutting through my flesh, the blood is everywhere, I can see bits of my flesh on the floor.  I guess some of the shattered windscreen has pierced my eyes and hence the bloody vision…I wonder when god will grace me with death, because I don’t think I will survive this without a few permanent handicaps and god!! I hate handicaps, they look at you like some demi-god who have the abilities which they don’t. they disgust me I cant be one of them.

                                                                           ...............

Its said that our whole life flashes in front of our eyes when we are dying. The betting fiasco was flashing again and again. That can’t be where my life started, my criminal life started. But the only person I can recall right now is Anuj, the guy who introduced me to the crime world. He took me under his wings and sneaked me into every kind of crime that ever existed, white collar crimes, corporate frauds, betting world. He considered me his younger brother.

                                                                           ………………

“Niraj,  I’m gonna find the rat who blew my cover. We have to move to Dubai, shift all our assets to Dubai. You with me?”

“Anuj bhaai, we should not panick. This has happened before, we will survive this too.”

“Niraj, don’t be ridiculous, Niraj why are you pointing your gun at me. Niraj ..it was you.”

The revolver shot was never heard.

                                                                           ……………

I can feel the pain he had in his eyes when I killed him. He considered me his younger brother but my greed got better of me. Anuj, he died without pain, in a single blow, while I’m suffering my slow and painful death.

The iridescent image is getting clear, everything is clear, none of my ‘loved ones’  are here, not even distantly. The road has been empty for hours, no one is coming to save me. What if I just take nap for few minutes, may be some one will come till morning, its already dark. Just a little nap. its warm inside compared to the outside bone shattering cold, just a few minutes..

                                                                          ……………

And then there were none of the hallucinations Niraj was having in his last moments. There was deafening silence in the valleys of Kufri, which seemed to be the only witness of his death.

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This Diwali!!

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 33; the thirty-third 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. The theme for the month is 'Celebrations'

Dr. S.K. Krishnan was struggling to find his spectacles for last 2 hours and in doing so had toppled half of his household. May be this is the biggest misadvantage of living alone in old age. He was rummaging through the pile of his dirty laundry when the door bell rang to life. Hari's beaming but blurred face met him in the doorway.
"saheb,its diwali!! no lighting in the house?"
"I dont have to indulge in this kind of frivolity", he coughed. "you finish up the laundry, fix me a meal and try to find my glasses."

These servant classes always trying to discover new ways of pinching money, be it holi they want baksheesh, diwali they want money. That was not his problem right now, where were his damn spects. How will read the evening news paper.
He could hear his neighbour Mr. Sushant sharma, the banker's son shouting outside,
"ye kaata, ye waali meri hai, tere do anaar bum mere."
May be he could coax the kid into reading him the news in exchange of crackers which were left from last time's diwali. Last time was so different he remembered, shantanu his son, amanda his british daughter-in-law and his grandson shashwat were there to celebrate diwali with him.
A lot has changed since. There was a mental tug-o-war going on between him and his son. He wanted Dr. S.K.Krishnan, the retired army doctor to leave India and live with him in London. On his dead body thought Dr.Krishnan, nothing could lure him out of his motherland.

He might have to do without his newspaper today. None of the kids were ready to read him the newspaper, not even in exchange for the expensive crackers.

                                                            **********

Raju sharma, son of Mr. Sushant Sharma, a young kid of 12, was wondering what mollified Krishnan uncle's otherwise irritating and always angry tone. He wanted raju to read him the newspaper, last time he was this sweet when his cable wire got tangled in the neem tree and he wanted Raju to untangle it.
Huh..why should he do it. He still remember the scolding he got from his dad along with the grounding when Krishnan uncle complained about them making noise outside his apartment.
May be he was missing his family, but that was not Raju's concern anymore. He was fixated on the purple-yellow kite coming towards him.

                                                             **********

It was already 7 in the evening when Dr.Krishnan woke up from his untimely slumber. Hari had already gone after cleaning up and fixing him a small meal comprising of two chapatis and some daal. That had become his staple since his wife Sunanda left him for a more comfortable abode in God's lap.The noises from outside were growing louder every second, he wondered about the variety in crackers now a days. In his time it used to be just few mirchi bums, sprinklers and anaar bum. He fondly remembered Shantanu was such a brave kid when it came to crackers and once he even burnt his hand while trying to light up the already burnt crackers. Dr.Krishnan, despite being a doctor, got scared of the burn and rushed to the hospital without caring about his slippers or money. Sunanda had to come all the way from home to pay the bill. He was smiling on his stupidity.
                                                               **********

His doorbell was ringing continuosly. He got up from his recliner wearily, thinking it would be Hari to ask for baksheesh again. He was taken aback when he saw a bunch of scrawly, squigly teenagers standing at his door with a heap of candles, sweets and diyas.
"Happy diwali Krishnan uncle, Hari dadu told us you forgot to bring candles and diyas, so we took it upon us to decorate your house."
Within minutes his house was reverbarating with teen voices and merry laughters. He could not believe it was his own house when they finished lighting up each corner with fancy candles and diyas.
"Uncle, look I found your reading glasses , they were behind the flower vase." chirped Raju.
"Now you can come with us and enjoy the fireworks, the whole colony is waiting for you outside." smiled another teenager whose name he did not recall. He was tearing up.
"Wait, I'll bring the whole lot of crackers left from last diwali, I hope they havent gone bad." said Dr.Krishnan, it was time for celebrations.



"

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The judgement day.

20^th January, 1989        

                The jaundiced moon was swimming in inky rift of clouds. The moon has been his only true companion for last few years, only because it was the only natural object visible from his cell situated at the east end of Oregon prison. “Oregon prison” used to scare even the most nefarious of the hooligans as it was the inferno for criminals & especially  for the likes of murderer like him, Bruce Barkley. The name sounded weird in his own head,  as over the jaded years it was reduced to a number -367.

                Was there really a green smoky trail from moon or he was hallucinating again. The hallucinations  began few months ago along with incessant bouts of chest infection, blinding headaches, prolonged fever. The prison doctor  said something about a newly discovered virus, HIV or something like that.

                The ghost of a blanket was doing nothing to alleviate the shivers, the icy steel bars were adding to the gloom hidden in the dark dungeons of his heart or what was left of it. Well that would get over within 48 hours. Lt. Bruce Barkley ,a decorated soldier will be hanged till death for murdering his girlfriend Kerry in cold blood.

                The Indictment will be sloughed off  or may be  it would accompany him to hell. Ahh  Kerry ! the sanguine angel, his angel. His buddies used to mock at him for falling head over  heels in love with a prostitute. He always got involved in some or the other fracas over Kerry. Why was everything so vivid, as if it had happened yesterday. Was it the fear of dying?? No, he died 20 years ago when he found his Kerry drowned in her own blood.

                Was it the sun coming up or may be he was delusional. But then he heard  the familiar sound of footsteps on the gravel outside his cell. “Bruce ! time to meet the father.” , barked Chris the guard who had somehow developed a soft corner for him over twenty years.

“Aren’t you guys religious ? making a dead man talk to the priest.” He chuckled. The despondent look on Chris’s face said it all. At least someone will mourn his death over the years. He replayed the scene again and again in his mind but sometimes had  trouble remembering the exact sequence of Kerry’s death.

He realized he was being led to the distant part of the prison, a dark damp corner resembling an alcove where the priest used to listen to the confessions of the criminal. He was scuffing due to the cast iron ‘oregon’ boot around his leg. But at least Chris has ennobled him by not chaining his hands, now that would be downright insulting after his years of good behavior. It had been a whole week since he saw the daylight. He saw several similar dirty blue overalls with different faces attached to each of them. He recognized a few, the bear , silent Joe, mopping the ground and then his eyes rested on Billy and his boys. He winced as Billy raised his cap and threw him a crooked smile. He couldn’t forget his first real encounter with Billy.

16^th December, 1969.

                “ Next ! Bruce Barkley.“ He deposited his watch, his coat and other knick-knacks in his pocket and collected what looked like a sweepers attire, dull and worn out by use, two blankets, a tin mug and a tin plate.

                “if you lose it, you wont get another, so hold on to them like your dear life”, shouted the mean looking guard with Lincoln beard. There were fifteen of them, the new gaol birds as they were known. All shipped to the Oregon for some sinister deed.

After a brief harangue by the warden aka the shark regarding the dos and donts of the prison, they were shoved in their respective cells. He noticed his cell already had an inhabitant, a mousy,tall,melancholy young guy called Slimey as told by the guard. Half way through his stuffy cell he was expecting Slimey to spring out of his cot offering him a hand shake and a proper intro. Rather he got a brief harrumphing and this small prologue.

“Dud!! Listen to me for once and for all. If ya bother me a bit I’ll pull your guts out and shove them up your arse so high, you wont know what hit ya.”

So much so for the courtesy!!

His next few days passed in a blur. He was getting accustomed to the tepid chewy chunks they called food, to the common urinals filled with stench so disgusting it made 1000 dead pigs smell like flowers. He was also getting used to being sneered at, thrown stones at, and more so to Billy the brawler’s several attempts to pick a fight with him. Billy was a hulk of a person, a redneck with  a scary scar running all the way down his right cheek. The other prisoners warned him to stay clear of Billy and his boys, the gay boxer who made other prisoners crap in their pants. But his army background made him over confident and all the warnings fell on his deaf ears. Until that day while he was enjoying the weekly communal shower when a sliver of a soap hit his feet and the person next to him shouted above the noise of running water,

“Heya mate!pass the soap, will ya?”. The moment he bent to pick up the soap , four hands grabbed him and held him in the same position  while he felt a hot rod like thing entering him from behind. His gasping screams filled the steamy shower area, tears of pain, anguish, guilt, rolled into one dropped on his cheeks. After several assaults he heard the familiar baritone voice of his cellmate Slimey,

“Billy boy, if you hurt that lad any more, I swear on your fucking mother I would butcher your dick!”

The bastards left him and he slumped on the wet floor like a discarded bath robe bawling like a baby. Slimey was his care taker for the next few days, and he could not thank him less.

20^th  january, 1989.

A violent bout of cough jolted Bruce out of his flashback and he spitted blood mixed phlegm on the gravel. Over the years and many fights (with Slimey’s  help ) he had made clear it to Billy that this was not his play ground any more and if he tried any funny tricks he would have Bruce bearing down upon him.

Finally the confession room loomed in view and he had to duck his head to save it from bumping.

A priest with a rosary and a Bible was waiting for him along with an unfamiliar guard. His hands were cuffed again as he was left alone with the frail, old priest. He chuckled in his head , they still think of him as an axe-murderer even when his flesh hung loose on his bones owing to that flowery disease AIDS.

The priest or father John as he introduced himself seemed to step straight out of some Shakespeare’s play, dressed in a purple robe, a cross bearing chain, a rosary in his hand and  a Bible in other. His mellifluous voice gave some warmth to that dingy hole they were cramped in. His eyes were translucent grey, from original blue due to his old age. He seemed kind.

“My son , How are you?”, well it was ages someone called him son. “Do you regret that you committed a sin against the holy father.”

“Father ! I didn’t do it..”, his own voice sounding hollow to him and he couldn’t discern from the priest’s expressions whether that old man believed him or not. Suddenly a strange, strong urge rising all the way from his guts shot through his nostrils to his mind to tell this old man his story or tragedy as he thought about it.

His mind was reeling through several sepia-toned moments and it finally rested on the victory parade, comprising of cheerful soldiers, of several happy faces high with the power, rejoicing that their army had defeated the enemy causing them to stagger back in their own territory and offering a peace-treaty. The streets were bustling with the bands, incessant chatter, and the hoorahs of the proud crowd. The dark grey roads were laced with colorful confetti. Men were hurling their caps in air and women were throwing kisses in their direction. Bruce was moving in the parade with his mates slapping each others back jocularly when his eyes met the angel’s. That was the first word in his mind when he saw Kerry, dark brown curly hairs falling on her shoulders, brown eyes sparkling with joy and her white fleece flapping in air as she bounced up and down waving the paper flag in air. Bruce was in love, the heady kind, the kind that didn’t let you sleep, the kind that burnished and tormented your heart until it got whom it wanted. Bruce wanted to tear away himself from the striding army but he was a tad too late, he lost her amidst the mad crowd. He was in a love-torn state so much so that even his mates were scared of his mood flings. He tried searching her but  in vain , she was the proverbial needle in haystack.

One fateful night while he was sipping on his bourbon in MC’farland’s pub, a bit shady for his taste but also the kind where no one would bother him even if he sat alone.  He was already down his third drink when he heard the twinkling laughter.

“You did’nt!! Did ya?”

“Of course sugah I did, I imagined that fat SOB was my Ronnie and went all the way down on him.”

“You bitch!! You must be loaded right now.”

He whirled his high chair only to find himself staring in the same face that had haunted his sleepless nights for weeks. Persuading her to accompany him for the night was easy as she was a hooker and  agreed to spend the night for a hefty sum of money. He took her  to the candy beach where he told  her about his fascination and love for her. She laughed and laughed hysterically uttering “You mad dawg!!” till she had tears in her eyes. She said she had heard the very same punch line over a gazillion times in her line of work. But never the less agreed to meet him in MC’ farlands pub the next day.

Over the next few weeks, though she was convinced about his feelings for her she could not shake away the fear of her boss or “the pricking bastard” as she called Jerry, her so called master. She poured her heart to him while they lay in sand, telling him about her migrant parents who had traded her in exchange of a meager sum of money. About Jerry, her boss who took her and the other girls under his wing, providing them with basic amenities of life in exchange for prostitution. Did she like it? Not for an iota of a moment but Jerry kept his girls well fed and well provided for but he had his ‘boys’ to keep an eye on them if they ever got loose.

                Bruce was determined to get Kerry in his life. He had a plan which was about to roughen his smooth-seamed existence only if fate would help him. His mates tried talking some sense in him as Jerry was something of a local Mafia. Even his dad refused to be a part of this mayhem.

                Bruce got himself two tickets of the ferry that would ship both of them away from Jerry’s claws. He registered with the court for his marriage certificate. Heck, he even got himself an expensive tux and a pretty white gown for Kerry. But he was oblivious of the guy in dark blue suit with a cigar who was following him while he was prepping for marital bliss.

                He had asked Kerry to meet him behind the dockyard in case Jerrys goons were following her, but on reaching the docks a scene so brutal hit his brains, he was unable to react. His angel Kerry was slumped against a cargo covered in her own blood & an axe stuck to her right side at a weird angle, she was clutching at straws in an attempt to breathe & her body was shuddering due to shock. Her blood soaked hand was beckoning him to come to her.

                She was dying in his arms, sobbing apologizing for not making it to the wedding telling him that she loved him & that Jerry found out about their rendezvous. It was ironical, the fact that the moment at which Kerry died several guns were pointed at him telling him he had a right to remain silent, he was dazed, his pupils wide with shock as he was handcuffed by the police. He saw the sheriff talking to Jerry in the corner of the dockyard, accepting a brown envelope he saw his Kerry , dead Kerry being lifted on a stretcher, but his mind was buzzing with static.

The story which adorned the next days newspaper was a bold one.   “Army veteran axes his hooker girlfriend in rage. ”

                The coroner believed the ratty lawyer & the evidences which projected the story in a twisted way, that he founded Kerry cheating on him & murdered in cold blood with an axe. His fingerprints (which were there  in an attempt to remove it from Kerry’s body), his past record of hitting his own friends in rage, & 2 false witnesses (bought by Jerry’s filthy money) did nothing to save him, his silence adding to the confirmation.

                Everything went in slow motion as the coroner declared him guilty & gave him 20 years of rigorous punishment followed by an execution. He was transferred to the Oregon penitentiary, perdition.

                Father John was dabbing his eyes when he was exhausted narrating the tragic events of his life. He touched his head with the cross in his neck and told him that he will pray for him. He was also kind enough to ask him what his last wish was. Father john left him alone in that abysmal shit hole with his thoughts. No sooner did the old priest left him when he heard voices infiltrating the monolith. May be he was hallucinating again, coz as far as he knew this part of the prison was seldom used to contain prisoners. But then the voices took faces as he recognized Billy’s gruff voice discussing something about escaping, the words came in broken monosyllables  …hidden…tunnel….sever line…early morning….no one would know…long gone…  His mind did a double take & he realized they had found some hidden tunnel & were planning the great escape.

                “Bruce ! come out, time to go back.” Called the guard. He was recalling the voices he just heard. While he was taken to his cell, a manic monologue ensued in his mind.

Over the few years Billy tried to make peace with him at several occasions. Billy helped Bruce indirectly to gain undeclared power over cell mates. Bruce was often baffled by Billy’s sudden flip of character. He was instrumental in pushing the warden to bring a physician when Bruce fell ill..But he never forgot what Billy did to him in showers. It was after months of counseling by Slimey when he gained his self-respect back.

It was a matter of few hours before he would get hanged till death, and even lesser hours for Billy to flee away. The path to his cell seemed never-ending, he was having a serious pain in his chest emanating due to anxiety as he had tumbled upon the plans of escape. The voices were loud and clear in his head and from whatever he heard it seemed a foolproof plan. But it was Billy, the jerk who made a joke of Billy being a soldier by butt-raping him, the bastard who made bile in his stomach regurgitate to his mouth everytime Bruce encountered Billy. He could not let Billy run amok while he suffered such a drastic fate despite being innocent. He could easily blow off the whistles on Billy’s plan while he had nothing to lose. He would tell Chris about Billy’s secret tunnel running behind the sewerage or he could even see the warden, the shark.

He had made his decision while he reached his cell, he would expose Billy, when out of the blues a conversation from past flashed in his mind. It was few years ago when they both were locked in ‘the dungeon’ for outrageous behavior. Bruce was in a mental agony as his one and only confidante Slimey had succumbed to TB. Bruce had beat up every alternate prison he laid his eyes on. While Billy was locked in the dungeon for similar deed. ‘The dungeon’ was a special treatment cell located in the deepest, darkest part of the prison where even Sun was scared to show up and they had to sit in their own piss and shit for one full week if the warden found your crime unforgivable. Billy kept apologizing for his act and explained why he did what he did, not that his apology dulled the pain. Billy was a boxer in the south end of the town and a good one at that. He had a happy family, his mom, god-fearing dad and a little sister Jewel. He was the favourite boxer of the town and people bet their asses on his win. Billy was entering a special fight against an ex-army heavyweight. Just before the fight he was offered money to throw the fight, which he haughtily reused. Billy won the fight hands down but when he reached his home after celebrating his victory he found his parents’ throat slit open in a grisly manner and his kid sister fucked to the point of her death. The army heavyweight had taken out his frustration on his family, but was acquitted due to lack of evidence. Billy had killed him with his bare hands and he was serving for the same. Since then Billy had a grudge against anything resembling army. Bruce was not listening but his sub-conscious mind had registered these facts. When Billy found out his story he had felt sympathy for the soldier and he also said something like, “If you ever need Billy, Billy wont back down, ever!”

Bruce was getting pulled in two directions, and an idea was gestating in his head. If he exposes Billy he would avenge the shame inflicted on him by Billy but if he escapes along with Billy he could avenge his Kerry’s murder, with Billy’s help.

He was hallucinating again, he saw himself making love to Kerry on the candy beach,  Kerry kissing him in the castledown fair. May be it was time for Kerry’s soul to be unchained.

It was Jerry’s time to pay for what he did.

Bruce Barkley was a renewed man, it was time to break the chains.

“Chris! My last wish is to spend my last night with Billy and other cellmates!" 

This post is written for Indifiction workshop. This awesome plot was given by Sandeep Nair. Check out here for reading the comments by the judges

An untold story.

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 32; the thirty-second 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. The theme for the month is 'An Untold Story'

It was one of those days,  Ramdeen dreaded like hell. The days when sun and rain both refused to grace Mumbai skies. Grey intimidated the clouds instead of pristine white. Ramdeen buttoned his khakhi shirt with a heavy heart, because he didn’t feel like going to work. He wished he could go to Worli sea-link, buy himself some chana murmura, cutting chai, those sold by small kids in white disposable cups and watch the youngsters strolling by. Youth.... always energized him whenever he was bogged down by the monotony of life, more so it reminded him of Karan. The truth about truth is that it hurts, and today it did no less. It pinched him where it had hurt most.

He finished buttoning his shirt, combed his hair, or what was left of it. Today was not the day to mull over his thinning hairs or for that matter Karan, because it was a sunday when Mumbai decides to shed corporate attire in lieu of casuals. In other words his cab would have more guests than his house had in years. His house has not seen any face other than his  own in years, even he liked to spend more time in his taxi rather than his house. It was suffocating without Karan and Shashi, the only two people in the world who meant world to him.

CST station was the sure bet to get his bohni. If Shashi was alive she would chew his years off for not starting with a good bohni .  But she was not , and still he was worried about what would she think. But then they were married for thirty years before she died.

It was already 2:00 in the afternoon and he had dropped a few nagging couples, 1-2 elderly hotshot business men and a few college students. Ahh!! They were his favorite customers , their incessant chatter, petty fights, always lightened him up. The day seemed never ending to him. What’s wrong with him today?

He didn’t feel like working and decided to call it a day, after all it was Sunday for him too. May be age was getting to him. He had not realized but he was already heading towards his favorite dhabha where the 18 something,a lanky guy, Kishore served latest gossip along with cheap food. Today even Kishore was not able to lift his spirits. He missed home food, he missed his wife and son. The truth about truth…it hurts.

He would clean his taxi today, thats the last remainder of his past and making it gleam always took his mind off other macabre things like he was alone in this whole big bad world. Now what’s that? How careless of someone to leave their book in the backseat. A novel,by some  Amitav Ghosh. A crisp white , unfolded piece of paper fell from it, a love letter may be. What harm would it do, if he read it?

“Dear Mom,

I love you all but I’m not happy and I’m ending my life.

No one is responsible .

Love ,Sam.”

This could not be happening to him. It was like déjà vu. He lost his son, Karan, to this monster called suicide. His Karan, so young, so vivacious, always finding new pranks to make them laugh. The year he decided to end his life so cruelly, leaving him and his wife stranded with a lot of unanswered questions, was his second year at college. Karan was everything a dad could wish for. His sudden decision to end his life became something of an untold story, known to none. His short note did nothing to reveal the story.

“Dear dad and mom,

I love you both but im not happy with life. 

I’m ending my life and no one is responsible for it.

Love ,

                Karan.”

He could not forget the day when they found Karan’s body hanging lifeless from ceiling fan. They did not understand the reason for his suicide. They tried everything but to no avail. Shashi never came out of that shock and withered away like a dead flower.  Within three years he lost everything that was important to him.

No, he could not let this happen to someone else. He has had too much of a trauma to see someone else suffer the same fate. Nobody should be allowed to go through such hellish experience. He would find the owner of the book. It might not be too late and that unfolded paper seemed freshly written. Who could it be?Definitely not one of the nagging couples or the businessmen with the crisp suit. Sam..seemed like some young kid.  May  be one of the college girls. The silent one did seem a bit of a loner. Now only if the book had some name. He flipped the book open. Bingo ! Its from a library.

“Hello ! I found a book belonging to your, can you give me the name & address of the person who issued it?”

“of course I would return it to the girl, whats her name? Sambhavna… “

“I got it, thanks so much.”

Ramdeen’s  taxi was running to save some young soul. The untold story needed to be told today.

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. Introduced By: The fool, Participation Count: 1

Travian travesty

LANITA 1-"We are running out of crops...our military troops are shrinking like never before,we dont have barracks and siege engines..we will lose our village to Romans"

STRIDER-"I am aware of the fact but if we dont balance our crops and iron we will not have anything to barter with Toutons or Romans."

LANITA 2-"I guess we should be on the look out for Natars and their land.That should help us expand and reach Wonder Of World."

STRIDER-"We dont have enough troops to foray in their land. Lanita 1 and 2 you both look after your villages,they are the base of my clan.Make alliances with the Romans. Once we do that we can easily defeat Toutons."

What appeared like some corporial jargon of military was indeed the hot conversation on the thread of discussion forum of the latest rage in MMORPG,TRAVIAN.

                                                           ********

The wood-paneled,heavily lit with Italian chandeliers,air-conditioned board room of NASCENT CORPORATION was buzzing with numerous expectant faces of the employees waiting for a change in their fates as the CEO of the company, Mr.Shubodeep Rathore was announcing the annual promotions.

"And for the post of Vice-President,or shall I say my left hand,Im pleased to announce Ms.Meghana Kapur.",boomed his voice .

Many unwilling and frowned congratulations were thrown at her only to be greeted with a curt nod and I-knew-it-would-be-me smile.The ever efficient,gauche, Meghana was already planning on to her next strategy.

"Last but not the least, for the position without whom our company would crumble like cookie, the person who can blackmail all of you coz he is privy to your net activities,Head of IT dept our own,and well deserving Arup Bhattacharya."

Even Meghana's nonchalance took a break to crane her head and see who was it the crowd was cheering more than it did for her.

"Oh!I have seen this guy...", she muttered a little too loud for her neighbour to react "He is a darling,is'nt he?"

While the hi-fives were thrown in air,another pair of eyes were seething with rage in the farthest corner of the room,oblivious to the jovial crowd.

                                                             ********

LANITA 1-"Im stuck in an impasse. My village is surrounded by Toutons."

STRIDER-"Gauls dont give up so easily!!! LANITA 2, do you have enough crops to build new troops 
or make allies with the Romans."

LANITA 2-"Affirmative, but Im short of armour and siege engines."

STRIDER-"There is a whole new land released by Natars, today LANITA 2 will employ her troops to gain the land. Once we do that we will grow crops to exchange troops from Romans, and make alliance with them.Then we will recapure LANITA 1'S village.Romans could be taken care of some other day.

LANITA 1-"sounds impossible!!!!!"

STRIDER-"Its all in the mind.!!!" 

He logged out leaving LANITA 1 of the virtual world better known as Meghana in the real world,in awe of his strategy formulations and out-of-the-box plans.
                                                             
                                                                 ********

"Meghana!! this is serious", barked Mr.Rathore.
"Its only two months since you took up the post of VP,and its third time our competitor has snatched the contract from right below our nose."

 Meghana was equally perplexed with the recent glitches that were happening.Mr Rathore had already indicated his displeasure at two ocasions in not so subtle tones.Every time Meghana worked her project, her quotations were either copied with modulations or the competitors lowered their prices.
Mr.Rathore had made it clear that "her ass was on her way out of her office if she didnt find the fault."
Meghana's mind was running helter-skelter to find the solution of the problem.IIM-B did not tell how to tackle this mishap,she thought.She had put her personal life on hold for this dream job,despite being 30 she did not want to marry.At this crucial point some snitch wanted to shatter her dreams,no not even on her dead body.

She summoned her PA,the feckless and incompetent mouse for a female.

"Get me the IT head NOW!!!!".
"Who mam?"
"Are you stupid? or you are doing this to irritate me even more.Whats his name..........Arup.Call him
NOWWWW!!!!!!"

A moment later Arup walked in sheepishly only to be barked upon,

" I want to have a full account of every employees mail box for the past month,inbox,outbox,drafts...everything.Can you do that ?"

"Sure Mam." answered Arup.

"And yaa,one more thing I want to have a look at their personal mailbox as well."

"Sorry Mam,that would be illegal and unethical.That is against company policy."

"You dont teach me about company policy.I can get you fired for not obeying my orders,and trust me Mr.Rathore will have no issues with that."

"Mam,I cant do this.I will open all the official accounts for you,but not personal."

"I will deal with you later Mr.Arup.You can leave."

Arup left the office a little too haughtily for a person who was shouted upon,that too for no fault of his.He was wondering what must have gone wrong for such a pretty girl to turn into a corporate monster.He had never seen her smile or even converse politely with any of her co-workers.But then she was reporting directly to the supremo.A little courtesy was expected of her but in vain.His own life hadnt been that easy he thought.He still remembered those days when he used to be the errand boy in this same office.His father's untimed paralysis had forced him to quit his studies and work.But he never lost hope and continued his work along with distance learning programmes.He shook his head of the past difficulties and reminded never to let people like Meghana get the better of him.

                                                                   ********

STRIDER-"Whats wrong with you LANITA 1. I cant keep jeopardizing other villages because of your inefficiency.This is the second time I saved your barracks today."

LANITA 1-"Im sorry STRIDER. Its just some official nuisance bugging me."

STRIDER-"May be I can help.Tell me."

LANITA 1-"Actually since three months our all contracts are getting sabotaged by the other companies."

STRIDER-"Have you considered net intelligence.I mean you can always get the systems and mail boxes checked."

LANITA 1-"Of course,but one of my junior is just too adamant to break the company policies."

STRIDER-"I too would have refused to do it openly.Any ways you can find World class hackers out here in Travian who will do what you want only for a substantial amount.If you want I can drop in a word."

LANITA 1-"Cant you do it?"

STRIDER-"I would have but I already have some urgent official work to do."

LANITA 1-"Thank you so much.You have helped me a great deal."

STRIDER-"Let your work be done,then thank me.And please save your village , we are very near to constructing Wonder of worlds."

LANITA 1-"Its all because of your well planned strategies."

STRIDER-"Its a team work.I have left you few mail adresses in your inbox.Contact them ,they will do your work.I have to log out early today,have some important work."

Meghana was again left alone thinking about strider.He has to be a management guru,may be even CEO.His strategies reek of corporate.And today Meghana was indebted to him for not only he saved her in virtual world but also real world.His choleric plan was leading to their clans victory.Now that would be a man to date ,not those duds in her office who had no acumen for business.


                                                                     ********

The next day when Arup entered the office, he could sense something negative in the air,he could see people whispering at him.He was already bleary eyed due to a late night,may be he was imagining things.He opened his cabin to listen to the shrill voice of intercom.

"Hello."

"Arup,come to my office immediately." Meghana sounded irritated.

When he entered Meghana's cabin,there were seated all top priorities of the company,even Mr.Rathore.

"Arup,you have 30 minutes to clear your office,submit your laptop and get out of this office."Mr.Rathore said almost grinding his teeth.

"Meghana has found some incriminating evidence showing your mail id and IP address used in sending sensitive information to our rivals.You are the perfect person for it,you have access to everyones system.But I did not consider you to degrade to the level of a rat."

For 2 minutes Arup was stunned into the deafening silence surrounding him.

"Sir,you have known me since the day I worked here as an office boy.You know I have worked hard to get to this level.I wouldnt dream of ditching my own company."

"Your ambitions got the better of you Mr.Arup."

This time it was Meghana's voice burning with hatred.

"Please submit your laptop right now and leave the office premise or I would not hesitate to call the police.I have refrained myself from doing so only on Mr.Rathore's insistence."

Arup had no choice but to leave.How could this happen to him.God has weird sense of right and wrong.What would he tell his family,where would he go,which company will employ him after such a maligned record.

                                                     
                                                                ********

LANITA 1-"Where the hell is strider?We are about to win and this is the time STRIDER chooses to abscond."

LANITA 2-"We can not do this alone.We need STRIDER to cover for us only then will we be able to capture the Roman village."

LANITA 1-"I wonder if he has had an accident or may be some emergency."

LANITA 2-"You have fallen for STRIDER or what."

LANITA 1-"Nothing like that.Im just amazed at his absence,so it must be something serious."

                                                          
                                                             ********
                                                            

Meghana was irked on the progression of the TRAVIAN,and the thought that she had to scan all the mails and files on Arup's system to find the level of damage did nothing to lessen the irritation.On reaching her cabin,first thing she did was to switch on Arup's laptop.She had no time for damage control.
While scanning his regular accounts she hardly found anything substantial.But then again he was the IT head,sly enough to hide the evidence.
She had hardly reached quarter of the files when one account flashed at her like a bolt of lightening.The account was named Travian passwords and strategies.She smirked,any one plays Travian now a days.Out of curiosity she opened the account and was stunned to see the name Strider staring at her from across the screen in bold letters.Arup was strider!!!!!No ways,how could such a sly,rat of a person be strider. Then she saw all the recent plans which she had blindly followed to the T.Seriously man,nothing could be said about a person now a days.Such a harmless looking person and such a shrewd mind.What was more puzzling for her was the fact that most of the passwords on Arup's system was on her name,MEGHANA. For a while Meghana thought what if she made a mistake and Arup wasnt the snitch.But then she remembered the fateful phone call from THE HITCHIKER,hacker of the top order in the virtual world,when he told her the mails she was looking for were send from one Arup Bhattacharya of her office.Funny,if Arup would have known Meghana was LANITA 1,he would not dare to help her.But thats what you get for taking short cuts in life.
The only thing she was worried about was the fact that no one was their to lead them in TRAVIAN.They were so close to victory and just because of this moron they would have to start from scratch.
She had Arup's password and his plans,may be she could play as strider and would lead their clan,the GAULS to victory.


                                                          ********

STRIDER-"I command all the village leaders to disperse and surround the enemy in a tight circle so they wouldnt be able to escape."

LANITA 2-"LANITA 1 is missing, who will take over her village."

STRIDER-"I will,you all just take care of your village."

LANITA 2-"No offence ,but thats one dangerous move,we are endangering all our troops and at the same time. Dont you think we should wait for LANITA 1 to return.This way we all could vanquish."

STRIDER-"Im the strider for a reason. Just follow what I say and in no time shall we emerge victorious."

Within few minutes of these orders,whole of the Gaul clan was attacked and shred to pieces,their engines and barracks looted,and the Romans emerged victorious.


                                                                ********

Meghana could not digest the fact that because of her the whole clan lost.She followed Arup's plan still...
Anyways a new day and she had a lot on her hands to worry about the game right now.
Hardly had she reached her office when her blackberry started vibrating in her purse.

"Hello."
"This is the hitchiker speaking,there has been a mistake.I might have prematurely called you about the IP address, actually it was a very clever fraud done and Arups IP adress was encriminated.When I probed deeply,I found some hidden files which told me the fraud has been committed by  a Mahendra Soni."

Meghana went pale as her mind tried to understand the significance of the words being uttered on the other side of the phone.What had she done,blamed an innocent person of such a heinous crime and forced him to leave the office.How could she be so blind to overlook the fact that Mahendra who was due for a promotion as the IT head,planned to malign Arup.She had to rectify her mistake.She called her PA and asked her to connect to Arup's home.

"Mam,no one is responding at his home."

"Give me his no.I will call him.You are useless." barked Meghana.

After like 1000 rings,someone picked up the phone at Arup's home.

"Hello,this is Meghana,Arup's senior from office.Can I talk to him."

"No beta!!" sobbed a soft ,frail ,female voice.
"Arup committed suicide yesterday.God knows what went wrong with my son."
and the person broke down on phone.



TRAVIAN TRAVESTY IS A  WORK OF FICTION BASED UPON THE PLOT GIVEN BY THE FOOL FOR THE INDIFICTION WORKSHOP.
PLEASE VISIT HERE TO KNOW MORE ABOUT INDIFICTION WORKSHOP.

From me to myself.

I can not stand reptiles,at all and probably they have got hold of this secret and hence play upon this phobia of mine every now and then.The slithery,crawly,creepy,dirty green creature was eyeing without flinching  a bit  even when I thumped the wall....."hushhhh"...."hurrrrr",oh God what wrong did I do today I wondered.   

Time for a broom(rather gun!!)With time even the lizards have mutated,they have dethroned brooms as their enemy.The stand off between me and the lizzie was getting prolonged and finally the lizard decided to call it 

off by crawling below the almirah.I was not ready to give up.I swept behind the almirah only to have a large,grey-toned,self embossed envelope strike my foot which had my name in my own handwriting.Funny!!!! I dont remember this.As I flipped it, "FOR YOUR EYES ONLY" met my eyes.My mind did a complete 360 degree round ranging from my room-mates' prank to biological warfare(read Baciilus anthracis).Anyways I pried the letter open.Staring at me was my own handwriting...Strange but I have always been a believer of the saying"Facts are stranger than fiction."

"Dear me,
I dreamt of this moment since I understood the theories or rather practicality of existence of many worlds.I had prepared a lot to write in this but my excitement got my tongue.Its a one in a lifetime opportunity to communicate with THE OTHER ME residing in THE PARALLEL WORLD.
I know this letter is gonna be a lot of information to process ,but trust me you will share my enthusiasm when you have read this end to end.
Hi Ratika, this is Ratika writing from HEART(its an anagram of EARTH). one of the many parallel worlds existing in the same time frame.I do not know whether you have any inkling to MWI-many world interpretations or not but parallel worlds do exist.Meaning at the same very moment while you are reading I(your counterpart) might be in my lab,while in some other world some other you might be getting ready for office...its inconceivable but true.Yes I know you are bewildered but we have known this since ages,in fact there have been times when I was able to watch you studying in your library and toiling in your hospital and whoa!!!!! girl I am proud.
Our world is very different from yours.We are lucky not to have suffered Second world war,there are no "third world countries" out here,we have a universal currency,and a whole lot of other advantages your world does not.I do not mean it in pejorative sense,but you got to call a spade a spade.
I have been studying you since last many years and have some words of wisdom for you.Of course you might think it to be an invasion of your privacy but trust me its gonna help you on a much deeper level than  1000 $ psychology counselling session or 100's of self-help books.

STOP REGRETTING!!!!!!!! I know you repent a lot over things already done.There is no use in wasting time over things which can not be altered.The worry just saps you of your enthusiasm for the other things.

STOP having a truckloads of expectations from everyone.You are aware of your own potential and your expectations just diminish your own efforts to achieve things.You have to learn to deal with your own troubles,dont go banging at your sisters' door whenever shit happens.Instead try resolving the problems or finding an alternative path.

STOP being judgemental,its not a virtue to be proud of.I might sound caustic but the truth is you form opinions faster than Usain Bolt(he exists in our world too...:) ).Dont do that,you never know your best friend might have had some reason for not calling you after she got married,or your ex-roommate might not be strong enough to support you when in need.You are much more than this.Holding grudges never helped anyone.
Start looking at things from different perspectives..

This is also a coffee cup-

This is also a coffee cup

STOP  trying to please everyone.There are 150 students in your batch and the scales are already tipping in the favor of haters.But you are surviving pretty gracefully.You will meet 100's of people some will pull you ,others might push.There is no use going that extra mile just to gain 1 extra friend.

I know what is coming next,come on I represent you in this world ,there are bound to be some similarities.
You must be rolling your eyes and muttering"easier said than done!!!!" but trust me our world is not very different from yours,its just tech-advanced.
We managed to open a portal in same time frame (thanks to objective reality of universal wavefunction!!!!) and were allowed one letter each to our respective representatives.I have no clue as to when will I be able to write next.So please pay heed to my advise.Out of all my forms I love you the most and want you to love yourself with similar fervor.
Follow your dreams and make me proud.

                                                                    goodbye for now,
                                                                     Ratika(the other you).

P.S. keep reading and writing ,I know you enjoy it.

This post is part of the contest A letter to yourself.. on WriteUpCafe.com

Lost and found in Melbourne!!!!!

The only thought hovering in my mind was "Do I have anything to lose",and everytime all my grey cells answered in unison "NO". I guess its time to lose myself in the crowd,you know the best thing about the crowd is that it has no name,no face.I chided myself for having second thoughts...n told myself.."Gear up Kia,Its your time to visit Melbourne,NOW!!!!"

When my editor told me my next assignment is capturing Melbourne for a newly launched Travel agency,all jaded memories gushed in.The memories I had worked hard to erase.

The Great Ocean road

I am Kiara or Kia,depending upon whether I insult you in public or private,wrong side of 30,single(by choice),nicknamed ICE-PRINCESS by my colleagues and juniors,Head photographer of an advertisement company and till now you all must have understood that I have a past in Melbourne that too an indelible one.

Melbourne,the city splashed with colors,meshed with arcades,patisseries,....ahhh I could go on and on.
Was I going to be the Icarus near the sun by revisiting the city I lost so much in.But as the Great Ocean Road loomed in view,bustling with life,air palpable with joy,the smell of ocean surf,the freshly waxed colorful surf-boards reminded me that I am in Melbourne where all your senses are in for a treat.
                                               

  ****

St Patricks' cathedral

"So,are you a professional photographer?" distracted a voice from behind while I was trying to capture the opulence of St.Patricks cathedral.

"No,I carry the camera and this heavy tripod to hit guys who hit on me." I retorted.

"My bad mam",he said with a flip of his hat."I was just trying to tell you ,you should have come after 2 hours if you want to create magic in the shots." and he turned.

Funny thing about photography internship is that you are desperate to impress the head honcho with some quality pictures,pushing you ahead of the crowd where any monkey with a heavy duty camera clicks masterpieces.

"Wait, Mr...."

"Mr.Samuel Whittaker,and I was doing anything but flirt with you out there."

It was hard not to take a second look at his grey eyes,lop sided smile and the mischievous dent in his right cheek only visible when he smiled.I was in love.He took my camera,sat down cross legged,on the faintly visible grass patch and started clicking.

"Whoa!!! you are good"

"I can show the whole city if you wish,I have nothing better to do."

"If you promise to take equally alluring photos for my assignment." I chirped.

'Promise."

****

The blaring horns jolted me out of my reminiscences and I realized Dandenong valley was nearing faster than my thoughts.I could'nt help grinning like an idiot as i could'nt take my eyes off the lush green range,enormous fields and their earthy smell intoxicating me already.I was on time for my early morning balloon flight and put up a mental tick against going-to-get some great shots.I mounted the most colorful balloon,not even minding the 500 $ burning a hole in my paycheque.I was doing it for second time,still the child like exhilaration of the first time was back with full swing.The sky looked like the canvass of Claude Monet with so many balloons.

****

"You are too timid to be a LEO, Sam,"I smirked."Its just a balloon flight not Mirage 2000 ride."
"Kia, please hold my hand,or I will fall off this scary thing."
"I thought we were clicking pictures" I said with fake frown.
"We will from ground if you dont want to drop your camera in Dandenong valley."
I love you my heart was screaming in silence.

****

Mt.Buller..

Memory is a funny thing,it decides to play havoc at wrong time.Focusing on the job was becoming difficult.All the images were rushing back to me and the Mt.Buller's pristine slope deciding to play the projector for the same.Skiing was something I was scared of and I remember he did not leave any valuable chance of mocking me.
The Yarra valley winery where the aroma got to my head so much so that I was on the verge of blurting my heart out to him.The Colonial Tram car restaurant where a whole group of Asians mistook us to be a couple,enough to make me blush a couple of times.Red spice road where he introduced me to scrumptious  Quiche Loraine....I missed the curb while driving.Ill have to get rid of the memories...since 5 years I have drowned myself in work so that I dont think about him at all,but memory is a funny thing...


''Why are you crying?" asked the old lady standing next to me in Melbourne Cricket grounds.I did not even realize I was welling up,thinking about the bet he so adorably lost exactly 5 years back on the same legendary grounds.I had painstakingly erased all these memories only to be brought back today so vividly.May be it was my fate which brought me back on his birthday so I could cleanse myself of the memoirs i have been bottling up.

****

"It's my birthday",he said while i was mesmerized by the monochrome penguins infront of me.
"Huh!! thats the oldest trick in the book" I did not even finish the sentence when his driver's license was staring in my face.
"OK!! happy birthday,what do you want as a gift"I could give my life if he asked for it.
"Aaah,very simple,spend the next 24 hours with me,you will ace the internship program, even Steve Mccurry will be proud of you."
"And what indecent proposal you have in mind??"
"Nothing.just have dinner with me on my birthday."
"Dont you have friends or relatives to celebrate."A profound,awkward silence followed my query.
"I come to Melbourne every year on my birthday."

Yarra river dinner cruise.

I had already planned to tell him how I felt about him,that I was madly in love with the stranger in Melbourne,that I lost my heart in Mornington Peninsula when he was busy picking fresh berries for me.
"Wow!" I burped amidst the sophisticated crowd sitting on Yarra river cruise.
"Excellent food"
"Kia,you proved it too!!!!." Ahh!! the lopsided smile again.The cool summer breeze on the Yarra river was playing with my emotions,and the exquisite wine fresh from the winery along with the gentle sway of the ship were adding to already fluttering butterflies in my stomach.
"What I can say,awesome company,delicious food." I replied nonchalantly.
"You talk just like my fiance." Crack! something broke deep inside and suddenly the brilliant lights of the dinner cruise turned a tad brighter,the kind that gives you a headache,and nausea hit me badly.
"Tomorrow we will go to the 12 apostle rocks,you know?",he continued disgustingly oblivious to my crushed crush.
"Im returning to Sydney tonight later." I managed to utter.
"What!!!!!!!!!! And when were you planning to tell me that Kia?"
"When were you planning to tell me you had a fiance!!" I shouted.
"What has that got to do with this."The ship touched the land and I was the first one to disembark,rather jumped out,ran as fast as I could,leaving Samuel as clueless as John Doe.

****

Point Lonsdale.

As I stand today on Point Lonsdale surf site,a sense of calm washed over my otherwise distraught soul.Those 48 hours I spend 5 years back snatched away a part of my soul,but gave me more.I had fallen in love,not the soul-lfting,enlightening kind but the deep abysmal ditch,the heart wrenching types.I crashed and burned.Thats my story,not tear-jerking may be but sad in its own way.The good news is I have almost come to the end of my assignment,The shrine of remembrance was the last spot after which I will be free from my stranger in Melbourne.
The shrine of Remembrance was being ironical as along with taking pictures, I was burying my memories,trying to redeem myself.Suddenly my AF-S Nikkor 24-70 mm ED zoom lens started acting funny,and when after 2-3 jerks when it did zoom in I had to rub my eyes because staring at me through my lens was my stranger in Melbourne."Get a hold Kia,you are just hallucinating.",I said in my head.
But then the voice boomed "You should have come after 2 hours if you want some great pictures." he said.

"What the hell....."

"Am I doing here?I told you I visited Melbourne every year on my birthday because my fiance died on the same very day in a disastrous skiing accident 7 years back.I was still grieving when I met you,I thought I am done with Love until I saw you that fateful day.I fell in love with your impish grin,your cool facade when you rebuked me.Since 5 years I have not stopped wishing for a second to get a second chance with you.I wanted to tell you on the cruise but you bolted on me.
Every year I roam into Melbourne with a hope that I will bump into you,so that I could tell you when Im near you the only place I wish to be is closer.." He was out of breath,and didnt blink.

"If you wont kiss him.I will",
 shouted someone from the crowd which had gathered to watch our emotional reunion straight from some Yashraj films.

"Mr Samuel,we are coming to Melbourne every year on your birthday,will relive all those moments which made me fall for you,till your arthiritis hits."

"Of course,the Melbourne experience has just begun." the lop sided smile.

First time I visited Melbourne,I found my Love,the second time my Love found me...serendipity.
May be I'll be third time lucky in Melbourne.

The Shrine of remembrance.

P.S. This post is for Indiblogger's contest Its your time to visit Melbourne now!! To know the details check out  http://www.visitmelbourne.com/in ,who knows you might get lucky.


The credit for photographs go to the following sites---
1.http://dgstonesphotography.blogspot.in/2012/07/life-through-lens-featuring-work-of.html
2.http://www.gorgetaways.com.au/
3.http://www.redbubble.com/people/voyager/works/7060890-st-patricks-cathedral-melbourne-australia
4.Yarra river dinner cruise