Ayodhya: The tale of a mind.

His grand-father was kicked out from Punjab (Pakistan) in India at the age of 10. The orphan than learned to earn his wages in India and finally started his family in the greatest democracy of all time. The happy family had some issues, had to leave their complete property behind and no proper education, getting a permanent wager was difficult. But he did manage to get a job as a waiter in a restaurant and on that salary, managed a family of four.

His father was the eldest son and was a businessman. He had opened a small shop of catering in the town. The shop used to cater to all the local functions of all the religions. The Special Biryani made in the shop was the talk of the town for years.

All was well, until, until the fated day when the country burned and with it, burned his childhood. He was one year old, but he knew exactly why his grandmother was crying hysterically. He understood why he never saw his mother again and he knew, life would never be same again.

He had some vague memory of the night. That night, Mother and Father had not returned from the shop. His grandfather was seeing the Doordarshan news. Suddenly there was an uproar in the market. No one knew what had happened and grandfather tuned in the television news. There were pictures of train burning all over the news. He would later learn that someone had burned a train full of Hindu activist.

His grandfather quickly lowered the volume of the television and switched off all the light. They all sat in the darkness. No one moved, it was the dreaded time.

After an hour or was it after six hours, no one can tell. There was banging on the door,

"Anna," his father yelled, "Anna, open the door." he shouted frantically.

His grandmother was agile, she quickly opened the door and let his father inside. Oh, the scene was horrible. His father was all poured in blood, his white shirt was smeared in blood. In his arms rested his mother, dead and covered in blood.

He spoke to no one as he came inside and finally after the funeral he became mute forever. Every morning his father used to hold hands and pray.

His whole life changed after that. People cursed him as he walked, becoming a Hindu had become a crime in India. His father loved him very much and everyday his father used to kiss on his forehead and look at him with tears in the eyes.

But the venom was injected, the temple of Lord Rama was destroyed to build a Mosque and when they decided to correct it, it was a problem. The venom injected in his childhood was to erupt someday, so what he assisted some people burn some Muslims, they had to pay for what they did to his community, his mother.

Today was his final mission, the lathi in his hand was for the enemy. The devil had launched jihad on his Punyabhoomi, he had to destroy it, revenge his mother.

One final blessings of his father and he would set off on the final mission. His father was old now, burdened with time.

“You see the devil everyday,” he replied, “Today, I am going to defeat the evil,”

His father simply gazed at him, he shed one drop of tear and lifted his backpack to leave.

Suddenly he heard the words that were lost seventeen years ago suddenly came to life.

“That evening, when I was in the market closing our shop. A mob of hooligans entered the market with swords and started slicing the members of our community. We all got scared and started running hither and tether. They called us traitors, impure. That day was the day of the evil…,”

He turned back, his father was staring blankly at the floor, “Your mother was killed in the crowd and I could not save her, but I was determined to give her a proper funeral and not let her body for the dogs. I was bringing her back to the house, when he attacked. He carried a sword in his hand.

His eyes met mine and I knew his intention. I knew, he would attack me and I had 30 secs to choose. I picked up a trishul fallen on the ground and sliced him before he could attack. He fell down in front of me.

As I was running away from the place, carrying your mother, I looked at the fallen man’s hand and he held a picture. It was the picture of his wife and a child. The child was just a year old and was smiling. So horrified I was of what I did, I collapsed besides the man, my legs shaking.

I was unable to move. The burden of my deed was on me but then I heard them, a mob coming towards me. I froze stiff, pretended to be dead. They came over us,

“Are they one of us?” one of them ask.

“One looks like us… yes, he is with us,” another replied, “Seems he took two of them with him.”

“Is he…” another exclaimed, “Oh dear, his wife was killed yesterday, they just have a child of a year old.”

“Don’t worry Allah will look after the child, lets go,”

So horrified I was with the consequences of the deeds, I searched his wallet and thinking about nothing, I went to the dead mans house, carrying your mother’s body with me.

The house was dark and I knocked on the door, carrying your dead Mother. An old Muslim woman opened the door and she shrieked, looking at me. The horror was behind me, a mob was walking towards us. She immediately took me inside and asked me to hide in the bathroom. The kind woman had sheltered a enemy with her, but she had mistook, the mob was not one of them, they were people from our community.

When I emerged from the bathroom, I saw only blood in the house. There was your mother lying in blood and there was the old kind woman, who had sheltered a stranger and amidst the blood, a small child crawled towards me. I did not know what to do, I had come to see to it that the child was fine and here it was in my arms.”

He looked at his father,

“In an instant I made a decision, funeral for your mother was less important than saving the childs life. I left your mother with the old woman and brought that child home. I promised, nothing would happen to him and also, the child will remind me of the devil I saw that day in me. The devil who made me kill the man that day, the devil who prompted the man to lift the sword that day. It was the devil who drank the blood of the two ladies who lay in that room, but, the devil did not discriminate between the religion. He killed everyone.”

“But where is the child?” he asked, thinking the father has turned delusional, there was no child in the house.

His father looked up at his son and smiled, “The child is you. I am your criminal, for I killed your father. If you need any revenge, I am your culprit.”

It all came back to him. The crawl in the blood, the man with the corpse, everything. The whole world stood still and he revolved unable to bear it.

The backpack in his hand collapsed and his legs gave away.



Facts and Note:

Repressed memory is a theoretical concept used to describe a significant memory, usually of a traumatic nature, that has become unavailable for recall; also called motivated forgetting in which a subject blocks out painful or traumatic times in one's life. Usually when we see something traumatic in the childhood, our mind represses the memory with an alternate version of the whole event this is called Repressed Memory.

The story is entirely fictional and has no relation with living or the dead. I was analyzing a physiological profile of a child trapped into the mess in 1992 riots and weaved a fictional story around it.

Images are from Ramayana 3392 A.D. a Futuristic tale of Ramayana.

The Ant, the grasshopper and your Life

In a field one summer’s day a Grasshopper was hopping about, chirping and singing to its heart’s content. An Ant passed by, bearing along with great toil an ear of corn he was taking to the nest.”Hey Bro, whatcha doing?” said the Grasshopper,

Don't blame the game, Blame the player.

Did you just crinch on hearing the name game? Were you afraid that this is another cribbing post about CWG and  I am going to bore you with a big lecture of what should be done or how Kalmadi's mom is the only person who can hold his ears and say, 'Own up, or I will spank you with bamboo kane..'

However tempted I am to write about it, I resist, for the sole reason that the man has suffered enough. Its not everyday that you may debut in world media over untidy toilet and are caught on tape saying that the condition is fine for me living in it (it was not Kalmadi who said it but someone else, who cares, they all look same to me)

Anyways so this is not about CWG at all, infact, baring cricket I am least interested in sports. In-fact in cricket, I am only interested in IPL, only to watch SRK team fail and drool over the Desi cheerleaders, so that is the end of sports for me.

I am taking about the large peace of land that is currently stuck between the tug of war of two very large Gods. I am talking about the Ayodhya land issue. The big prime land in the heart of ayodhya where people are tearing each other apart since the 90's.

In-fact to build the land, more people have been killed, on both the sides so far, than those who would actually go and pray in the place, and I must say this year Manmohan Singh has faced some of the greatest challenges ever faced by any Indian prime minister so far.

I mean, he has to make sure Indians keep their job with USA turning hostile towards outsourcing, he has to ensure Pakistan keeps its little soldiers in pajamas inside its border and not on the CST station in Mumbai, he has to ensure.

China doesn't change the borders on the map and then again he has to ensure the old wounds do not open wide and hurt millions of Indians again. Kalmadi is least of the problem India is facing now, and what is more all the troubles are world class, I give you that.

So anyways, the game is set, and this 29th I am coming home with pop-corn to watch if we Indians have finally learned from our mistakes or no. Because if we do not, people are going to get burned. 

Do I really have a solution for the problem? yes, but you see people don't really respect my intelligence, when I tried to convince a local gang of youth to protest against the opening of shopping mall next to my house, because that is where my girlfriend will drag me. But they didn't listen to me, and I ended in front of the mall holding a billboard, when they announced a 70% discount. Saved by an inch on getting mowed over by an incoming crowd.

So I won't spare my thoughts on this issue, but hope that we have learned from the past, if we have not.... God save India, but then again, we cannot be sure, which side God is on.

P.s. Don't you dare put some racist comment on this post, I won't accept it and curse you that your every condom will have a hole in it.

How many Engineers does it take to change the Light Bulb

'Nothing can happen in this country,' he came to me complaining, 'We are a big messed up country.'

Irritated that he disturbed me while I was busy reading comics online, I choose not to answer or it might turn into a heated argument.

'Nothing is right, we don't have proper electricity, we don't have water, we don't have roads. Nothing at all,' he shouted, 'We cannot do a single thing right.'

'We had to host one international tournament and we even goofed it up, our politicians are corrupt, there is no unity among the states, no unity in the religions,' he said bitterly, 'Nothing can happen in this country.'

'Now, see this,' he said, a bit softly, indicating that he was finally tired, good for me, I wanted to read Lio, 'Its been a month and there is no electricity in my house.'

'Oh is it?' I asked.

'Yes, I have to eat food in the dark, I have to watch TV in the dark, I have to even read a book in the dark,' he complained loudly, 'God knows when will they come and repair it,' he complained.

'Did you try to change the light bulb?' I asked silently, finally making my point.

He quietly left my table without saying a word or complaining.

Have not heard him complaining about anything since. Funny thing, how we miss the most important thing... brain.

Moral of the story: Do you have any complaints?
Second Moral of the story: Did you understand the first moral?

Once upon a time on Facebook....

'She doesn't like me,' he walked towards me.
'Why? She dumped you,' I exclaimed curbing my excitement.Thank God, finally, stop you will eating my head.
'No dude,' he clarified, 'She did not like my Facebook status.'
Is there any place where they take away these idiots?

'I don't like Facebook,' she announced finally, 'I prefer orkut much better.'
'I didn't realize someone is forcing you to join,' I said, not understanding the point.
'...But you know its a hip thing to be on Facebook,' she proclaimed, at that point I did realize I should get away from the conversation.

'How dare she does this,' he announced entering the room,
'What?' I asked, clearly lost.
'She send a virtual goat to some random in the middle of the night,' he said angrily.
'Dude, you are married for 3 years, she is your wife,' I exclaimed.
'And yet, she stays awake the whole night, sharing digital goat with random strangers,' he exclaims, '... and does not even fertilize my crops.'
Note to Self: I should totally remove his wife from being my neighbor or next time he will kill me.

One fine day,
'Hi,' he pings on FBChat.
'Hello,' me, trying to recollect, who the hell is he and what is he doing in my friends list.
'Thanks for adding me, I thought you must have forgotten,' he.
Given the fact that you thought I must have forgotten you and still you thought it was cool to send a friendship request, must say, brave.
Quickly peeping into mutual friends-list, aah, school mate, the person whom I shared oxygen with in school and had eye-contact only twice in my life so far.
'So, Wat is up these days,' he.
Given the fact that I don't know you, you don't know me and the only mutual conversation we had in the past twenty years was when I wanted a share of that tasty cheese sandwich you were having in the year 1993 while we still wore half pants to school, 'Nothing much, the usual.'
Opps, I got accidentally disconnected, or did I?

True Story.

Confusion, Irritation and Celebration.

We all live in turbulent times. There are terror threats in some major cities in India (that gives us the international level), US has finally learned that Indians are smarter than them and created policies to prevent jobs from going out instead of creating better talent inside, the Maoist have decided that stopping railway and troubling 5000 commuters will benefit their cause and I have finally learned out that it takes 7rs for me to reach home from bus stop but only 5 rs for the same rickshaw to drive me back from my home to the same bus stop. In such highly confusing and turbulent time, Ganeshji** was also reluctant on coming down, no not because he was unwelcome here, because he is a little bit scared that Garudimal Popatlal Jhunhunwala Chawl Mitra Mandal* will be playing, 'Munni badnam hui, darling tere liye,'(Munni is spoilt for you darling, this is actual song to be played everywhere now) in front of him and he doesn't want any Munni to spoil and definitely not for him.

The thing about social gatherings is the pestering public who sees you after a long long time and asks some of the patent questions about you.

I usually am a social disaster, I do not exactly know what to tell people, specially if they ask me about my job, like if some old man asks me, where do I work, do I tell him my company name or my work location? Godforbid if someone asks me what do I do!!!

'Oh, you are so grown up,' the old man smiled, 'So long since I saw you.'
I smiled, trying to be as fake as possible. Let me eat my Prasad dude.
'So where do you work,'

I stated my company name.

'Where?' I was sure he heard it, because two kids next to me also heard the name, even the watchman sitting on the stool at the gate of the society heard it.

'Hinjewadi...'
'Ok ok,' he nodded as if he was the walking talking Google map. I was sure he didn't know where it was.
'What are your work timings?' he inquired.

'I have flexi-timings....' I began and then regretted, today fate was definitely not on my side.
'What do you mean by that?' he chirped.
'Meaning, I don't have fix timings,' I replied, 'Depends on the work.'
'Are you sure?' he quipped.
I stared at him solely due to Ganapati Bappa, who was looking at me.

Another type of people you see in these social functions, enthusiastic ladies. Do not know what exactly they smoke, but at the event on the music playing, they will start dancing. Now, there is no problem in dancing, dancing is good, but they will start dancing on the steps they learned in childhood. The singers would jump over the cliff, if they saw the dance their song was subjected too.

When it comes to these social festival, one more hitting point is the social contribution. When you reach the door to collect the money, the first thing they shamelessly ask, How much is minimum? Oh c'mon guys, ask maximum, we come once in a year.
One Auntie said, 'Go in the building and tell me how much they gave, I will give you more.'
We were quite excited on the prospect of earning more. So we traveled the whole building of 5 floors and the maximum amount we got was 200 bucks from a noble gentlemen.
We came back to the Auntie and told her the maximum amount is 200 bucks. She beamed and said, hold on.
After few seconds she popped out with purse in her hand and handed over... 201 bucks.

Again, if only it was not Ganapati Bappa...
But still in the confusion, irritation and celebration, we all take part to rejoice the God who steps down on earth for 10 days, who comes as a guest, eats and moves on after the tenth day. A lesson to be learned by many humans too. Isn't it?


Ganapati Bappa Moraya.


*This is a fictional name, used only for phonetic humor.

** Ganesha Utsav is a social Hindu festival celebrated primarily in Maharashtra where different societies, colonies and groups bring big idol of Lord Ganesha aka Ganapati Bappa and worship Him for ten days.

Short Story: Me, Myself and The World

The moment I have been waiting for has finally arrived. This is a small step for me, but a giant leap for mankind. Today I have reached for the moon, this one level will give me a exponential leap into the future. After the relentless effort for last 25 years, I have finally completed the greatest machine of all time. A single pull of lever and the most amazing invention of humanity since fire will go online.

 I take the last pill for the day. The vitamin and calcium pills I have been talking for last five years have kept me mobile. They are created from extracts from the plant and animals. They do not create access fat in the body and simply give it enough nutrition to keep me running 25 hours a day. My own invention.

I have to do it now, if only I had an assistant or a guinea pig to test this machine, but I had found no one to match my IQ of 190. No worries, I will test it myself.


After dinner, I enter the machine and finally pull the level. Here it goes....

Blink. Blink. Blink.

Where am I? Was I successful? I look around, if I was successful, I had just traveled through a worm hole into the future. Is this the future? I don't see anything around, only debris, miles and miles of debris. Dust on the street.
Where am I?

'You are 7 secs late,' he walked towards me and I shrieked, he looked just like me, but a bit older, was that me from the future.
'Yes, I am you from the future,' he replied as if reading my mind, 'I know what you are thinking now. I was thinking the same, a few years ago.'

He walked towards me with tears in his eyes and smiled, 'Hello.'

'What happened here?' I asked.
'The world as you know it, has been destroyed,' he replied, 'Would you like to join me for dinner?'
'Dinner?' I exclaimed,'Dinner?'
'Yes, dinner, come. After this happened,  I got bored, I had nothing to do,' he replied, 'So I learned farming, growing vegetables. I also learned cooking from the websites.'
'Websites? I thought the world has ended,' I asked.
'The internet is still there, only static content left though,' he beamed, 'That is how I am learn things, I never learned. Eric Schmidt was right, internet is the thing we created that we never understood.'
'Have potato...' he offered.
'No, it will contain fat,' I replied.
'Eat it,' he replies, 'Don't be so worry wart, enjoy a little.'
'What has happened to you... I mean me,' I exclaimed.
'Life is not about chasing a dream relentlessly, but about chasing the dream while also enjoying the natures creation. Look at me, I studied, I studied, I explored and I studied. But what has led me? I spend the last forty years alone here in this debris.'

I look outside the window and see a space craft standing there.

'It is the exact copy of Apollo 11, only perfected the design, it is now, a one maned space shuttle that can go on without refilling or stop for 20 light years, took me 40 years to build it. I had decided to leave the planet and explore the universe and find some aliens,' he sipped pumpkin juice, 'But then, I learned about religion and spirituality. And I realized I needed to punish myself.'
'Oh...' I dejected at the thought of religion.
'Then I knew my time jump experiment and I decided to wait for you.' he explained, 'You now hold the very key to stop the total annihilation of humanity.'
'Me?' I spurted out the pumpkin juice on the table.
'Yes, you.' he said, coldly, 'Once you go back now, the time machine won't work. You will go nuts trying to mend it, remembering its design, replacing parts. It won't start and you will decide to use anti-matter to fuel the exhaust. The anti-matter is the key to destruction. It will be an uncontrolled chain reaction that will destroy everything in sight releasing photon ions.'
'Oh...'
'Stop it.' He said, 'Stop yourself from making the blunder I made. That is the only way to save the planet.'
We finally parted to my time machine which stood there silently.
'I am helping you start this only once, after this it won't start.'
I entered the cubicle and waited for his signal. He was glancing at his stop watch and replied,
'Go now.'

Blink. Blink. Blink.

A soft and distant words hit my ears, 'Save the planet.'
I was back, I was successful. I was the first person to travel through time, the Neil Armstrong of time travel. They would name courses for me, they will write thesis on my experiment.

The machine that carried me to the future stood there alone. I should call the university and show them the travel. What if I travel back in time and see the big bang? Yes that would be wonderful, I should carry a camera with me this time.

I configure the machine to the time and I press the lever.

Blink. Blink. Bluss. Nothing.

Oh damm, the machine has failed. I should start it before showing it to the university. What has gone wrong? Oh no, I should start it at any cost...

What comes first, the egg or the chicken?

There are some questions in life which remain unanswered, like should you clap for a person who has come to receive the award on behalf of someone else? Should you tell the person who grabbed the coke from your hand that you were shaking it for last fifteen minutes?



Then there are those question on which the universe stands balanced, when will people stop poking around others business? The universe has no answer.

'So what do you think,' I asked, 'What comes first, the egg or the chicken?' I asked.

'I think, it would be an egg,' she replied.

'I think it would be a hen,' I exclaimed.
'What are you guys talking about?' he interrupted pulling a chair.

'Of-course the egg,' he replied, 'how else do you get a hen?'

'And who laid that egg?' I inquired.

He was about to blurt, God, he deflected the question, just like the government deflects the supreme court order.

'See of-course God made that holy egg,' he replied, 'How else do you explain genesis?'

'Genesis is out of question, if God had anything to do with it, tell me, why does mickey mouse wears only pants and no shirt and donald duck wears only shirt and no pant?'

'Oh thats really important,' She said, 'You should investigate it deep.'

'I totally should, also I have observed that even thought Donald doesn't wear any pants, when he comes out of the bathroom, he wraps a towel on his waist.' he observed.

'But that still doesn't answer the question, what comes first, the egg or the chicken?' I asked back.

'Sir,' the waiter came on our table, 'You chicken masala and Egg burji.'

'Oh they come together,' she said and beamed.

He looked at both of us, 'You people are evil,' and walked away.

We quietly munched on our food.

Return

He walked the old dusty road again after so many years. He remembered the place very well, so many memories etched into his mind.


The old forgotten dusty lane, which was never urbanized by any political agenda. The same old little house which stood the test of time for so many years. He remembered his last walk on this road. He was trying to prevent the flood flowing from his nose and running his sore bumps with his free hand.

He knew this return was uncalled for, unexpected but it was the one he had to make. He did not know how she would react, would she still be happy on seeing him or will she even recognize him? The crumbled paper clutched in his hand was his identity for so many years. It was a his ticket to existence, his own...

The bell was in his reach now, he was a few seconds away in uncovering the truth. If he wanted to turn back, this was the last threshold. Funny thing was, even after so many days, his hand shivered at this stage.
Would he face her? Face her like he dreamed about so many days? Would he stand up to her? Will she accept him back? Millions of thoughts flowed into his head, each more dangerous than another.

Finally... all was blank, his mind had made the resolve. There was no confusion, no doubt, all was crystal clear, this was it, he was going to do it. The bell rang.

She opened the door and looked at him from her spectacles. She was bent with the burden of time, took sometime recognizing him even.

His fist folded into the tight clutch, the thing he was practicing for the last one year was here. This was it, now or never.

'Miss Mary,' he summoned all the strength he could and spoke the words, '27 years earlier you had given me an 'F' grade on my paper on geography for not mentioning Pluto as the planet, I was right, now give me that pass grade.'

P.s. I really wanted to tell this to my teacher, but I still couldn't. Do you also get nervous on meeting your teachers too?

Some people are alive because it is illegal to shoot them!!!

When you live in the land of kamasutra, it is really hard to maintain the expectations of your ancestors, the people, who had 5 wives and 15 kids and lived till the age of 100 without a single weak bone, resolved all the domestic problems with sword fights. But then as it happens, we progressed and apart from slavery, misery and the torture, the white guys brought to this most ossum country in the world.... democracy, which gave the people a shield, a transparent shield to cause as much mayhem and irritation, and get away with it.



There are some people, I encounter in my daily life, who I get the uttermost feeling of killing. There are those, who can't keep their things in their pants and are more concerned of things in my pants.

'Hey, how much do you earn?' he asked.
'Excuse me?'
'Your salary boss, package.'
'Dude, its really rude asking someones salary'
'C'mon man, its me'
'How does it matter who are you, its clearly rude.'
'You see, mister, you may be as professional as you can get, but remember I still have friends'
Holy Shit, Where did that come from?

Then there are those, specially in the office, who come out of nowhere bend down on my table and peep in my computer and say,
'Whatcha doing?'
Hello, you can ask that from a safe distance, too, where you can't infect me with your germs also.

There are some type of people who carry their Gods in their pocket, just next to their Androids. They not only carry the Gods with them, but shove it in your face every-time they feel like it.
As it happens, I was busy eating chicken in canteen, (no offense to Vegans, vegetarians or PETA activists)  but I do relish non-veg.
'Dude its Shravan(the holy month in Hindu religion where you eat only veg food),' she.
'Its Ok, tell this to Julia Roberts, I am not a practicing Hindu,' I quietly resuming my food.
'Its so bad to eat mutless animals who cannot defend themself. you will go to hell,' She.
Now, I keep on meeting these people everywhere in my life, so I have found a counter agreement for that, using the basic principle of human-problem solving, 'If you can't convince them, confuse them'

'Listen to me sweetheart,' I start, gearing up for my argument, 'I am here eating an animal, who was capable of running, harming or killing me, which he failed in doing so, because of the primary rule of the universe, the survival of the fittest. In doing so the cycle of life continues. You on the other hand have created an artificial life form by calling it farming, you are defying the natures fundamental principle by entering the artificial life form and thus harming the Gods order of the thing. You have also killed an living being which was not capable of defending itself, moving from the ground and also unable to resist your approaches. Now, tell me, who will go to hell?'

The girl never bothered me again and I ate my chicken in peace. Hell bent.

Human process is a every evolving battle between the human race and the universe ability to produce idiots. So far, Universe is winning. When they say, it all started with the big bang, are they actually point to the reason why so many people suck?

The thing about life is, the things that shouldn't suck, do and the things that should suck, don't.