Sunday, August 18, 2013

Possibility...


The first shot hit his mother, before he could react and come down the stairs, the second shot fired. This one took his sister from a point blank range. He couldn’t decide whom he should tend to first. He came running towards them and that was when the third shot fired. The bullet grazed past through his neck and took a mound of flesh with it. It was a shot which would haunt him for the rest of his life. It was a shot he wished, had hit its target. 

He wasn’t trained to handle this situation, he was blank. It was then that one of his friends who came to celebrate his 20th birthday shouted to call an ambulance. He took his mother on his lap, she was conscious and was trying to tell him something, but she just couldnt. One half of his wanted to rush to his father, snatch his gun and shoot him, but he had to rescue his mother and sister first. How he wished the shot hadn't missed.

They were declared dead on arrival. He was immediately rushed to the operation theater to check on his wounds. He thought about his father, he knew he never meant it. He could feel his eyes getting heavy with the anesthesia kicking in, as he went into the slumber a last thought kicked in - he wished the shot hadn't missed.

                                                                                 ***

"Is this a dream? What is this gun doing in my hand? Where did the blood come from? Where is my glass of scotch? "

With blood smeared all over his clothes, he sat on the bed. His thoughts were running haywire, he couldn't hold on to one single thought and then, the most prominent of the thoughts hits him- Did he just kill his wife and daughter? 

He realized it wasn’t a dream; it's the end of it. As the effect of alcohol started wearing away, his conscience got to him. He realized that there’s nothing he can do now to redeem himself. He can attain salvation only one way. 

He rested the gun at his temple, closed his eyes. The whole of evening rushed past him. He hoped his son was fine and...Before he could finish his thought, his conscience ridden index finger had pulled the trigger like a hangman waiting to get done with his guilt. As the piercing pain hit him, one last thought occurred to him - 

How he wished he had never shot!

                                                                                 ***

It was a faint noise, very serene. Though my knowledge of musical instruments is restricted, I could easily guess that it was a piano. The tune seemed somewhat familiar. A faint female voice, not very mature started crooning; there was melancholy in her voice.

~~There's a possibility~~
~~There's a possibility~~
~~All that I had was all I'm gon' get~~

It was a voice, whose eyes have seen a lot of distressing scenes. It was a voice, whose mind was in search of answers to her questions. It was a voice, whose heart saw a glimmer of hope at the end of the road. It was a little louder now, though still I couldn’t make out where it was coming from.

~~ There's a possibility~~
~~There's a possibility~~
~~All I gon' get is gon' be yours then~~
~~All I gon' get is gon' be yours still ~~

And then suddenly my eyes opened.
At first, the bright light pierced through my eyes blinding me as if someone just flashed in a bright torchlight right into my face. It took a while for me to get used to. I was sitting on a lone bench besides a blooming cherry blossom tree with their pristine white with a pink hue flowers in full bloom. In front of me was infinite stretch of grassland. The sun was shining bright; a pleasant breeze was ruffling the blossoming flowers infusing life into them there by finishing their resurgence from the torrid autumn. It was a total picture of serenity; I was about to close my eyes to soak in the glory of the nature and the song was getting lucid with every moment.

~~So tell me when you hear my heart stop ~~
~~You're the only one that knows ~~
~~Tell me when you hear my silence ~~
~~There's a possibility I wouldn't know~~



I heard a voice.

“Beautiful…Isn’t it? I love spring, everything’s so fresh!” She said, almost talking to herself while running the white hair band through her curly hair which accentuated her forehead. She had a poignant voice with little sadness in it, but had an amazing child like exuberant quality.

 “I used to love going to the school in the spring, everything’s so fresh. The sun shining bright, the birds chirping, the blooming flowers…”

Her recollection of school brought memories into my head as well. I used to hate getting up early for the school in the winters myself. It made me grumpy and the early morning maths class didn’t help the cause at all.

“It is beautiful indeed. Even, I love the spring.” I added in an indifferent tone to mask the enthusiasm the spring has brought in me, in front of a stranger.
“But do you know what the best part of the spring is?”
 Before I could think of something pleasant, she started answering her own question.
“It’s the early morning dew drops on the leaves, sliding through the leaves as though it was a bead of pearl let loose from the string holding it”
That’s pretty intense thought for a young teenager, I thought. Before she throws another question at me, I wanted to know who she was and what was she doing here? But, she caught me again before I could act.
“How did you reach here? Are you also a victim?”

~~By blood and by me, and I'll fall when you leave ~~
~~By blood and by me, I follow your lead~~

That’s when I asked the question to myself. In a state of memory paralysis, I just couldn’t remember how I got to this place. I tried hard to recollect what was I doing and where was I, but I just couldn’t remember anything.

“I don’t know. I just can’t seem to remember. How did you get here? Probably, that will help me recollect” I said, trying to get over the fact that I couldn’t remember how I have reached here.

“Even I can’t recollect. All I remember was darkness. I think it was a pillow held tight onto my face. I tried hard to scream, but I just couldn’t open my mouth. I wanted to kick him and escape to the safety of my parent’s room. I wanted to bite him, but the pillow just didn’t move from my face. I kept trying, but to no avail. Then suddenly everything went mute; I couldn’t hear anything except for my rapid heartbeats. I couldn’t hear my own agonizing cry for help. My eyes began to droop. That’s when she offered me her hand. I held it tight and then hand in hand we walk up into the pristine bright light.”

~~So tell me when you hear my heart stop ~~
~~You're the only one that knows ~~
~~Tell me when you hear my silence ~~
~~There's a possibility I wouldn't know~~

I felt a chill run through my spine. Her words took me back to the time, a range of images occurred to me. The chilling image of my father with his gun pointing towards my mother and sister, the image of my mother's eyes when she was breathing her last on my lap, the serene image of my sister face before I placed the last log on her cremation bed. The image of three pyres burning and how I wished to run into one of them and just get done with my life. 

How I wished that the bullet had hit its target that day.

~~ There's a possibility~~
~~There's a possibility~~

                                                                            ***

~~ There's a possibility~~
~~There's a ..........~~

His phone rang continuously, by the time he could gather his thoughts the ringing stopped. It must have been his wake up call from his girlfriend. He wondered where he heard the song before, that's when he realized his girlfriend had changed his ringtone. 

"This is the only way I can get you to listen to it" she said. 

He was about to call her back, when his dog sprung on his bed and handed him the newspaper, following the usual morning routine. As he was about to pat the dog, the girl's image on the front page caught his eye. She seemed so familiar to him, her image was so fresh. He felt a sense of déjà vu. The long hair, white hair band - Did he know her? Did he dream of her? What were they talking about? He just can't seem to recollect the details and that was when his eyes fell on the headlines.....

Girl found murdered in mysterious conditions at Noida home
TNN | May 17, 2008, 06.11 AM IST

In Noida, a class 9 student of Delhi Public School was found murdered at her sector 24 house in Noida late on Friday. The victim, Aarushi was found lying on her bed with multiple stab wounds on her abdomen and injuries apparently inflicted by a blunt object on her head and face. The domestic help of the family, who lived with them in the house, was reportedly missing since the murder came to light. Aarushi's parents, a doctor couple Rakesh and Niranjan Talwar - were at home when the incident took place.

The suspect, identified as Hemraj of Nepal, was engaged by the Talwars barely 8 months ago. Police later traced two close relatives of the suspect and detained them for interrogation.

Police refuted reports that she was sexually assaulted after the murder. "There is no comment in the post-mortem report on on this issue," clarified superintendent of police (SP) City Noida Dinesh Misra talking to TOI on phone. Asked if the doors of room....
 
                                                                              *---*

PS: Aarushi's story was long inside my head but never found a fitting form to be told. That's when a chance 'out of boredom read' led me to Kamal Sadanah's story. 
Two tragic stories had so much pathos in common. I believe, it was just waiting to be connected and then the beautifully sung with apt lyrics"Possibility" by Lykki Li seemed to be apt to bind them.

Friday, March 29, 2013

The Chronicles Of Barnia!!


Statutory Warning:
**********************************************************************
The subject in the piece of literature below bears no resemblance to any living person; any resemblance is a possible co-incidence. If you are a girl and you have me on your facebook list it’s quite possible that you might creep out after reading the whole post, un-friend me and get all judgmental about me, which is completely understandable. To my defense I would say I was playing the part. Hoping you have the sense of humor to take it all in zest, if not, I leave the choice to your empowered mouse click!
This one’s for the Bro’s !
**********************************************************************
Dear Barney,
I am a big fan of you. While I do think that 'The Bro Code' is one of the most important piece of literature of the 21 st century for all the bros, it’s missing a critical Article on the use of social media. So for the sake of all the Bro’s out there, could you live it up for us?
-A Desperate Bro!
Desperate Bro,
This is a great question that seems to always comes up at one of my seminars. The Bro Code’s origins weave all the way back to dawn of humanity and over the years awesome Bros have amended and added awesomer rules. As the sole protector of the Bro Code, there lies a huge responsibility to keep the Bro code relevant in the ever changing times. 
Hence, for the 69th amendment of the Bro Code I have appointed reputed B-school interns (who by the way think are working for GNB) on the project  entitled : “Understanding & Assessing the Mating Maturity Level of Females Based on Their Social Media Behavioral Patterns”. As douchebaggish and un-legend-a-rrry it sounds, the project shall give all the Bro’s a chance to be awesome and help them find the right jugs *winkie wink* . But you know who’s more awesome than the most awesome person on the earth. That’s right!! You can thank me when you strike gold. Time for the all set to get laid Hi-Five!
This questionnaire is strictly for the Zuckerberg slaves. (does anything else exist anyway?)
Click on her Profile Picture:
·          Is the profile picture?
Female celebrity: -50            Flowers: 0            Her Picture: 25         
Male Celebrity: 100              Barney Stinson: 250
·          Is the profile picture open for all?
No: 0            Yes: 100
·          How many profile pictures does she have?
0-10: 0             11-50: 50            51-100: 100     
·          The average likes she has on her dp?
0-10: 0             11-50: 50            51-100: 100            >100: 250
·          How many display pics are self shot? (through the laptop webcam or worse..from full length mirrors)
None: 0             Less than half: 50            More than Half: 100     
She gives an Angelina Joliesh pout in the pics shot by her pink cased I-phone: 250
Read the comments on the profile picture:
·          Does she refer to her male friends as “Dear” and female friends as “Baby” in the comments?
No: 0            Yes: 100   
Calls male friends “Baby” and female one’s as “Dear”: 250
·          Does she thank each and everyone who likes her pic?
No: 0             A collective "Thank you all" comment: 100
She tags and thanks the person each of them who liked the pic: 250
Cover Pics:
·          Whats the count of Cover pics?
< 5: 0            5-25: 50            25-50:100            >50: 250
·          Are the cover pic and profile pic same?
No: 0      Yes: 100
·         Does she have intellectual\witty\sarcastic quotes as her cover pics?
Yes: 0            No:100    
She has random pictures on quotes about loneliness/love/heartbreak/cute animals: 250
Profile:
·          Does she have the “about me” section filled up?
No: 0            Yes: 100
           She has it filled with SMS lingo and concludes it with “ull hv to b my frnd to knw mr abt me” : 250

·          How many pages does she like?
            <50:0 50-100:100="" nbsp="" o:p="">
Other Social Media:
·          What other social media platforms she’s active on?
Orkut:  Yes: -50                    No:0
LinkedIn:  Yes:0               No:50
Twitter:  No:0             Yes:50
Now that you have calculated the scores:
> 2300 : This should be your girl. Until and unless she has a boyfriend or father serving in a military do not leave the opportunity of dating her. She might just be your “ Silver lining Playgirl” , the one you were always looking for!
2299-1500: That’s what I call the grey area. You can probably convert these one’s if you give it your best “shot” or you could go to your nearest specialized surgeon who could fix you up.
< 1500: Dude, this one’s a let go. I don’t see an opportunity for you here, that is unless if you have a pet woodpecker who stays with you in your bang-pad and feeds on your toosh-toosh!



Thursday, January 3, 2013

Just another page from a diary...



30th December 2013

It was one of those spanner like thing which they use to tighten the nuts of tires of a heavy vehicle, conveniently “T” shaped rod whose distinctive shape was used to perfection to accomplish a ghastly ordeal, giving the phrase “fit someone to a T” a disgustingly new meaning. It was a lethal blow right on the center of my head, all I remember was the bone crushing pain it induced. Then it was a buzz, a disgustingly irritating buzz like that of an ambulance or a police jeep siren, little did I know that these two vehicles will play an important role in the coming years of my life filled with repentance. How I wish I had never survived the appalling torment

The ruthless, cold- blooded bastards would have never contemplated that the very rod with which they were parading their supremacy would come to haunt them for the rest of their ill deserved life. It was a rod which shook the country, it was a blow which stirred the conscience of every citizen of our “independent democracy” and above all it was a night which acted as a spark in igniting a war which the fairer sex fought for their emancipation against an apathetic administration.

Sadly, it needed a sacrifice - a gruesome, merciless sacrifice which deprived the parents of their loving daughter, the little young brothers of their protective sister, and for me a friend who thought me how to smile in spite of the innumerable odds she was pitted against, a friend who became the darling of the entire nation, a friend whose fighting spirit and resilience hence forth shall be an exemplary influence whom the whole of female kind shall look up to.

A year went by but the agony still haunts me to date, it left me with all kind of strange paranoia. Today,  I had to take the same dreaded fly over and I was in a bus. Instantly there was a sense of déjà vu. I felt uneasy, in spite of the chilling Delhi cold, my palms started to sweat, my heart started beating faster, I felt I couldn't breathe, as though someone just shoved in something inside my wind pipe (another phobia of mine). Panic struck me like a bolt of lightning, I was this close to shrieking my guts out, I wanted to ask the bus driver to stop; I just wanted to get out of the damned bus. It was then that I heard the voice:

"Don't budge...Face your fears. You can do this for me"

I recognized the voice; it was a voice which could stir a thousand emotions in me. If the warmth in her voice stirred up my affection, the wailing agony of her voice stirred all the pent up rage and remorse left inside me, sadly...that’s how I last heard her!!

'Move on' she tells me, but how? I cant concentrate on my work, I am lost and dazed half of the times, Innumerable visits to the shrink(he was the one who wanted me to write a diary) but I still quiver at the thought of taking a girl out; I still get nightmares about the incident and have spent sleepless nights having a dialogue with my conscience. Could I have saved her? Could I have done something different to overpower those goons for whose inhuman deeds can’t be described in a word because it’s yet to be coined? Could she still have been alive fighting for her rights, if it weren't for me? My life right now is surrounded by all the repentance; I wish I had answers for the questions thrown at me by my resentful conscience. Wish someone could see the other side of all this, it wasn't one but two lives that they have destroyed that day. While you my friend, the more resilient of us, have settled down among the angels, I am stuck here with the devils who shall continue to haunt me, but I shan't let you down.

                                                        
                                                      Wish I could move on….




Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Revenge is a dish best served when cold...



Three in the night, it was completely silent except for the wailing sound of an old hostel fan. The moon was on an off today, probably because it had to attend her boyfriends “post break up” party. It seems like the whole world had gathered to celebrate an END. She felt light, all for the wrong reasons; it took her back to her childhood days when usually due to her frail personality she always ended up being thrown up in the air by her see-saw partner; Even god made her weak. She felt the same today, the whole world on one side of the see saw and there she was on the other side - teary eyed and shaken by her misery.

Is this how light feels? 

Those very eyes of hers which according to him spoke a thousand words were now damp and puffy due to constant stream of tears, now stood staring at her laptop screen with her facebook page open. The words on the screen seemed to be fuzzy, moving up and down as though they have a life of their own due to her moist eyes; They too probably are laughing their hearts out. She has been reading the same words since morning - a proclamation of her boyfriend’s happiness on facebook, ending their five year old relationship that was once so beautiful for both of them.

How she hated Mark Zuckerberg now!! After all…didn’t he create this draconian devil of an idea to woo back his lady love after a breakup, and look what it does now, it allowed immature nitwits like her boyfriend to become pseudo conquerors of the world by providing them their own wonderland where they are the King/Queen and to this throw in their pity minions(read:friends) who never lose out on an opportunity to seek voyeuristic pleasure out of two folks in conflict.

How could it go wrong then? What made him hate me so much that he had to “wash his dirty laundry linen in public”? Where did all the love and respect go? Was it because he was in love with some one else? Did he find some one who unlike me proclaimed to the world that I loved him? Did he find someone who was full of spine???"

It was a barrage of questions flooding her mind right now. As though the hazy vision wasn’t enough; it was now being supplemented by her bleary cloud of thoughts. Nothing is clear. How she wished to evade all her sufferings. How she wished to…she wished to..wished to…yeah…END HER LIFE!! 

This is the only way I can slap his face with a cruel realisation, the only way he shall understand my value…the only way I redeem my conscience- Revenge is a dish best served when cold

She looked around for things that could kill her - blade, sleeping pills, flammable material…anything!

How about the induction pan in the hostel pantry...can I burn myself sitting on top of it?”

“Seriously!! What are you thinking?? “

“How about jumping from the top of the hostel block? “

“No...jumping from a three storied building will only result in a few broken bones and far worse………a broken pride!”

“Then…What do I do…??!!”

That’s when a sound distracted her, the squeal of the fan and then...it struck her!!  She never knew her feeble body would give her an extra option on her “means to death” list.

“She was feeling light…”

She felt her heart pounding, muscles aching, lungs struggling to breathe, a buzz in her ear. It seemed like the end. Then, a thought struck her – 
I should have played my favourite song for one last time”. 

As she felt eyes closing for one last time, never to be opened again, she stared blankly at the facebook page trying to get a glimpse of those dreadful words which caused all this:

Feeling super cool today. Dumped my new ex-girlfriend. Happy independence day."

She felt her eyes giving up…how she wished these were not the last words she read……..

PS: Story inspired by this news article which kept hitting me again and again and of course fuelled by a recent personally experienced similar outburst in social media. 

May the departed soul rest in peace.