CELEBRATIONS

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

Books, handwritten letters, photographs, records, memories and posters, his life were full of them. He woke up religiously at 6 every morning and went straight to his treasure chest, filled with things which others called old junk, but for him it was his life. It was everything he ever wanted and ever owned. He had lived a life the way he wanted. He was 85 and a widower. It had been 15 years since his wife had passed away and he missed her the most. His two sons had left him long ago and he lived in a small house that he built himself near the lake where he met his wife for the first time 55 years ago. It was the place he proposed marriage and she had said yes.

The treasure chest contained all that means the world to him. Photographs of his wife, his kids, some real close friends and memories from each and every one of his trips. He loved to travel and he ensured he took his wife with him everywhere he went. Old records that he used to listen to all his favorite music from everyday on the gramophone player that adorned his desk. He would start his day with some lovely music that would fill the three rooms that he had in his house. Puki, his dog was the only other living thing that stayed with him.


Kishore’s voice echoed in the background, as he made his first cup of coffee for the day. He whistled to Puki to fetch the newspaper that was thrown near the gate by the little boy down the lake who delivered his dose of world news. He settled down on the big easy chair overlooking the lake and began sipping his coffee. His face had a lot of wrinkles. His hair was silky but silver in color. He had aged gracefully. Looking at his face one couldn’t understand him completely. One had to look deeper and deeper, like excavating the real face that hid behind all the layers of wrinkles. It was poetry in motion if you had to analyze the man’s face. After completing the newspaper, he walked up to his treasure chest and took out an album. He had collated it himself, with photographs that spanned many decades. He had also written notes about the places where those pictures had been taken to remind him of all the things beautiful in his life. He saw a picture of his wife, this young gorgeous woman who was 26 at the time when the picture was taken. He gently ran his wrinkled, shaky fingers over the picture, caressed her face and smiled. A drop of tear trickled down from his eyes and changed its course many times before falling on the back of his hand. He scrolled through the many pictures that adorned his album and he did this everyday.


He would then take another paper bag which had all the letters that his wife had written to him when he was in the army. The letters were very brittle, almost had a shade of brownish yellow after all these years. He still loved the smell of his dead wife’s perfume on those letters. He had been in the army a year after he had gotten married and was away from his wife for four years. He still believed that it was those four years that made him realize that she was the one he wanted to spend all his life with. These letters were worth a fortune. Every time he read those letters, he could visualize his wife reading it out to him, speaking to him. He could feel her presence. That’s why he did that everyday. The many names she would address him by, the little fights they had, things that were bothering her in his absence. It was magic.


Today as he was reading those letters, he was overcome with emotion. It was their anniversary. After he was done with the last letter, he closed the box and walked up to the lake. He stood there gazing at the water. He could see his reflection on the water. His eyes were moist. As he kept looking at his reflection, he could see another person next to him. There she was, smiling at him. He whispered, “Happy Anniversary, My love. What would you like to have for lunch”?


His way of CELEBRATION began.....

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With Love,

Neglected Station - The Life Changer

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 15; the fifteenth 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.

Rain. Isn’t it a awe-inspiring occurrence? I love the drizzle and all aspects of it. I love getting drenched in the rain, traveling in the rain even though everybody I know seems to complain about it. It was one such rainy day. The company said they will provide me car back home but I decided to take the train. After all it was only a three hour journey to the lovely deserted station. Though it was a last minute request from me they managed to get me the tickets. As I sat in the Santro that was me driving to the station I wondered why I decided to take the train, one of those impulsive decisions based on some insane gut feeling. I looked out the closed windows only to see nothing as water drops covered the glass .I grabbed my phone and the voice brought me a smile.

By the time I reached the door to my compartment I was drenched, the downpour was heavy. It was like the water that had filled the skies to the brim wanted to just burst to its liberty today, dance in the open air, cleanse the cities and bring a smile to me. I entered the train and was making my way through the rows to my seat when my eyes saw him. The emotion that filled me is unexplainable. He saw me too. He seemed confident of what to do as he came forward towards me with a smile. That smile. I had almost forgotten it but yet it seemed so much a part of me. Though the air was nippy and I was cold from the wetness in my skin, his smile brought me warmth, the warmth which he had given me all those years suddenly glowed in my heart. Though after a few seconds, I smiled back and made my way to him. We shook hands, almost hugged. Then, silence for a few moments.

“Here, let me take that!” he said. He took my medium-sized traveling bag from my hand and placed it on the luggage rack. As I found my seat I found out that he was sitting right opposite me. The insane gut feeling. After I settled on to my seat, he sat opposite me and we smiled. “It’s been so long! How are you?”. He replied,”Good. I recently met Shailu and she filled me in on most of you.” I said,”Oh, Shailu does have contacts with most from our class.”
As we talked on about what we were doing ,what everybody else we knew was doing I realized how comfortable this was, how easy this felt. I had imagined meeting him again and I had played out this scene a 1000 times in my head but never did I imagine it will be so easy, so simple, despite of our history, of the fact that it has been five years since we broke up.

We met in the beautiful campus of St.Peter’s. He was a year senior to me. But our similar passions brought us together in many a clubs and associations. Always on the same squad but always skirmishing about how to implement ideas we both agreed on. Most of the times we will work together and come up with the most wonderful concepts, only to end up fighting on some trivial matter about the execution. Similar thoughts but different styles was the point. Through all of this, somewhere along the way, we had fallen in love. And we didn’t even have to say it to each other it was just something that we both realized. We became part of each other.

The conversation carried on as the rain lashed out on the closed windows. Suddenly, the smile on his face brightened and he got up. He moved as she came and took the seat right opposite to mine. He sat next to her. She was beautiful and they looked very good together. Though I figured she was, when he introduced her as his wife my heart paced up. She had a warm genuine smile, the kind that will make you feel good no matter what.
I said I hadn’t known he was married and congratulated them. I sounded truly excited and happy.

The three of us talked. She told me about their meeting and marriage and I told her about him in college. He listened, correcting facts, denying my stories. It was a pleasant conversation that was picking up just as the train was picking up speed. As I watched them I suddenly thought I would have maybe I should have, been in her place. If things hadn’t changed the way they did I would have been his wife. But looking at them made me realize how perfect this is. They were lovely together; they looked like they were in love and they were.

We were lovely together. Everyone knew about us. Everyone thought we will be the couple to make it to the forever category. We looked like we were in love everyday for the four years we were together, one year of which he was in a city far away. We made that work, a long distance relationship between a final year student and a busy new trainee. On the day of my farewell party he came down and surprised me. He took me to the lonely station near our college and proposed to me. He promised me in words the forever I knew he promised with his heart all these years. And I said NO!

As the rain continued despite the train moving through new towns with isolated stations so did our words and my thoughts. He had introduced me to his wife as a college mate, but I think she knew. There was a smile on my face that was sincere. I was happy for him. But there was also a pain in my heart. As silly as it was to me, suddenly, all I wanted to do was scream and cry out loud. The tears came close to bursting out the confines of their glands but some force stopped them. I played with my ring, looked out of the window, looked at the small kid trying to eat his sandwich but my eyes wandered back to them and my mind was swept back to the twin thoughts.

As I said it was only a three hour journey. In no time my stop was there .As the train pulled into abandoned station he helped me with my bag to the door. Before, I had told my bye-bye’s to her and asked them to keep in touch, hoping in my heart that they did not. The train stopped and I got down .He got down with me and handed me my bag. As we stood, face to face , my eyes finally gave way to those tears .He hugged me. A second later the guards whistle started screeching and he got back on the train. With that warm smile of his, he waved and I waved back hoping that this moment does not repeat once again. An insane gut feeling telling me it will not.

He was stunned. He looked blank as I tried to figure out what I had just said. After I said NO, I had given him an explanation of sorts as to why I made this choice and I know it made no sense to him because it didn’t make sense to me. It had been raining that night and after hearing me out he had looked at me and smiled. That was what I didn’t need then and the tears flowed out as suddenly as the rain stopped. He got up, hugged me. As the horn of some car screamed, breaking the silence that surrounded us, he left me. Held my hand for a second smiled that smile of his and walked out. Leaving me alone with this decision I had made based on some insane gut feeling in the same lonely station where we once walked with our hands bundled together.

I stood in that pouring rain. The water seeping through my clothes and was clinging to myself. My hand held that wooden bench in the corner of the desolate railway station, which was getting sopping in the water. If you were to hold your palm out and

catch the water that dripped off my face. If you were to pour a drop of it down your throat, the saltiness in it would be evident. The tears were pouring with a fury greater than the rain. The train made its way out of the station. The tears stopped flowing. It was like my senses had taken a break The rain had also softened to a drizzle. As I stood there watching the now distant train I felt a hand on my shoulders. And there he was with this smile of his. I hugged him and whispered ‘I missed you, I need you and above all I Love You’. A soft voice whispered back, ”I love you too”.

I came back to reality and saw the girl next to him, his wife. He understood my quizzical look and giggled. He muttered, “Shivani (that's me), meet Kaajal, my colleague and part of the drama enacted to get my love back”. I smiled and punched his arms. We walked out of the station, hand in hand. And I felt warm . I felt the glow inside my heart that has been there for the last one year I have been married to him. An insane gut feeling also lead to this decision .The rain drizzled on, making someone complain, and bringing a smile to me. My life was changed once again, in the same Deserted/Neglected Station.

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With Love,

Return

Hey Thank you so much everyone for making me the BATOM!! No words to describe the moment!

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 14; the fourteenth 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.

She walked in, hair swaying in the wind, eyes glancing across the half crowded coffee shop, with a bunch of red roses gripped tightly in her hands. A cat whistle shrilled from across the table where she rested her grip on the flowers. A couple of gawky teenagers couldn’t hide their excitement and let their jaw drop (along with the glass of cold coffee) at the sight of the flower girl. She looked up, sharp eyes, lined with kajal, the type that makes the eyes look even more expressive than how it is on a lazy Sunday morning. On second thoughts, the morning face, Sunday or otherwise always wins ‘pants down’.

The flowers found a place on the table and one got to see her fingers, beautifully manicured, the ones that would have experienced the choicest of creams, lotions and moisturizers, the ones that always smelt fresh and felt divine. The ones that were always not too far from sanitizers. The ones that had mehendi on them? Ah! She is married. About to be married? Or her friend just got married. Yes. That should be the case. Phew! That’s a relief.

She sat down at a table that could accommodate only two people. She is expecting company. The electricity just went off, thanks to the heavy rain. A few drops of rain cascaded down her forehead and fell on the table. She carefully took a tissue from her bag (didn’t even bother looking at the pile of tissues folded and placed on the table in a triangular shape by the waiters) and wiped her face, gently, not ruining the kajal. My heart skips another beat. She folds the tissue and places them next to the flowers.

“I’m there”, she said on the phone, that seemed to have magically sprung out of her bag and planted itself to her ears, when the mind was too busy deciding on her relationship status.
“Oh! Another half hour? Shit”, she cursed. The lips seemed so pure, so bright and so sensuous, that one could never expect words other than love, peace, hope, and bliss, let alone profanity. Those lips were meant for kissing, to be kissed than curse. It looked like a painting, perfect, symmetric, orgasmic with the blood red of her lipstick, like the painters final signature.
The waiter walks up to her table and places a candle and she smiles at him. It’s his lucky day. He walks away and she lights the candle with her lighter. The candle light falls on her face and the heart skips another beat. Her eyes shine. The light keeps shifting, thanks to the wind; it plays a pattern on her face. Her nose ring twinkles. The light is blinding, making me turn my gaze away from her for just a moment.

She is trying to catch the attention of the waiter. Unaware that she has everybody’s attention. She does realize it. She signals him to get her a hot cappuccino; you could see her pinky sticking out, while she signaled. The coffee arrives in what felt like milliseconds. She looked awkward trying to open the sachet of sugar to add to her coffee. She spills some on the table-the coffee and the sugar. She looked up to see if someone saw her clumsiness.

Her eyes met mine. I smiled. She was still for a moment before a gentle smile escaped her lips. The candle light was playing tricks. The light and shadow was just too much to handle. I gently nodded my head to greet her. She hesitantly waved back.

I went back to scribble on the tissue paper, the one I had in front of me from the moment I came into the coffee shop. I wanted to write something. In fact I wanted to just keep writing. I had something to write about.

The coffee shop began filling up. The rain was getting heavier and water was dripping from the roof above. People were trying to squeeze into any available space. Tables looked crowded. Privacy could be forgotten. At least till the rain stopped. The air smelt wet. The voices became loud and conversations from every table could be heard clearly. No one went near her table. She still stood out. Alone, beautiful and mesmerizing.

Ever so often, I looked up to see her. I just couldn’t stop. I would then smile to myself and then get back to writing. My coffee was getting cold, partly due to the weather and mostly because I never bothered to drink it.

“What? You’re stuck? It’s pouring here and what do you want me to do?” she spoke on the phone once again. Frustration was written all over her forehead. I could see the lines forming on her clear face. She shook her head and disconnected the call. And I’m certain I heard her swear one last time before hanging up the call.

She glanced towards the flowers that were on the table. She picked up a tissue and began scribbling something. A note I thought. She tucked the note to the flowers and called the waiter. She handed him the flowers and said something, the waiter nodded. He went back to the cash counter, carefully holding the flowers. She took a final sip of her coffee and got up, hand held over her head to protect her from the rain and strode out as briskly as she had come in just a while ago.

My heart skipped another beat. Do I go behind her? Maybe just talk to her? Would I be seeing her again? Questions flooded my brain. I was snapped out of my trance by the waiter.
“Sir, that madam asked me to give these to you”, he said handing me the flowers.
“Would love to read what you have written about me. Coffee tomorrow at 4?” it read with a smiley at the end.

My head really swirled that moment. I stared the lines I wrote in the tissue paper which had kindled her curiosity. It simply read, "Will she Return?". I smiled to myself.

Indeed it was a RETURN that is going to change my life.

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.

With Love,

GoodBye...

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 13; the thirteenth 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.

8.50 Am, Assistant Commisioner's Home:

It was not the usual day for Assistant Commissioner Sukhdev Varma. It is the day every Indian soul was waiting for. JUDEMENT DAY - wondering what for? For the criminal, mastermind behind the worst bomb blast India has ever witnessed. "Get me that file saakshi", commanded Varma who was digging his laptop for the case details, nuances and the details of the witnesses to be examined today. 'Tinnggggg....Tinnggggggggg' cuckooed the wall clock 9 times. Varma eyed the clock by sipping the last few drops of his coffee.

8.51 Am, Thakeyur-e-Taiba's Headquarters:

"Amjad, kahan hai aap Idhar aao. Remote do Wajid. Mujhe seedha prasaran dekhna tha". Wajid who was seeing the film gave the remote to Wasim Khan, Assistant Leader of Thakeur-e-Taiba and eyed the time. It read 8.53Am. "Wasim baai, the hearing won't start soon. Don't forget its India" muttered Wajid with a wicked grin. Wasim looked angrily at him and shot back, "Chup Idiot. This is the case the entire country was waiting for and they are going to bring our chief to the court today. We will know his fate today. You don't seem to have even the slightest of tension. Chalo yehan se..ganda fellow.. "

9.02 Am, Supreme Court - Justice Chamber:

Lights, recorders, Mikes were found everywhere. Media was in full charge. Some gathered in front of the Judge's chamber to get a few tidbits from the justice's mouth. But Mohammed Ibrahim and Venkatakrishnan Raghavan the two judges who were handling this sensitive case were advised by ACP Varma not to get out. They both were discussing the vital points. That was when they heard the sudden commotion in the corridor. The police guards outside the room closed the room immediately and soon some of them even rushed into the chamber. Raghavan managed to ask one of the guard, "What happened? Any problem". He stopped and replied shortly, "They are bringing Aatif Khan and Ismail Rehman". Raghavan and Mohammed saw each other and smiled themselves. It was a routine procedure they do when a terrorist is brought to court.

9.18Am, Supreme Court - Trial Room:

ACP's car rushed in and Varma went straight to Judge's Chamber. While going he saw Rajkumar Pelleta, witness for the day. He escorted the two judges to the trial room. It was bustling with people spread all over the room. Some were hanging from the doors to get a glimpse of the most wanted terrorist. After the initial procession and formality, the criminals were brought into the room.

When both of them came, some shouted, some cried, some tried barging in. Policemen really had a tough time in managing the mob. "Try to control all your emotions. We are here for the final judgement to be given for the accused today. So try to calm yourselves", shouted Varma. The crowd tried to calm after hearing his power packed voice. Aatif and Ismail saw each other. Ismail eyed Varma and everyone assembled there with a vengeful gaze. Aatif pressed his hand on Ismail's shoulder and asked him to be calm.

Mohammed summoned Rajkumar to assemble and tell his part of story. Rajkumar was struggling with his hearing aid at one end of the room. Nobody sat near him. May be it was because of the scary look he had. With a half burnt face, with a trembling hands, he tried fixing it. He adjusted his specs a million times. He never heard what the judges spoke. He was in his own paradise. It was then a hand touched his shoulders. Rajkumar lifted his head slowly to face the smiling face of Sukhdev Varma. Varma took his hand in his and motioned him towards the witness stand.

"Am sorry. Never heard that you called me here. I lost my hearing ability during the blast 10 years ago. Varma sir told me that I should tell what happened on that fateful day. I am 75 years old then. I came to...no, went CST on that fateful day. It was my daughter's 25th wedding day and my grand daughter's wedding day. We all went to the station to bid farewell to her. She was holding her newly wed husband's hand. She came near me, bent down to get blessing along with the groom. It was then I heard the shot. My white shirt became red in a minute and my daughter fell to my feet with a hole in her head. My son-in-law went near this short, stout guy Ismail I suppose and gave a slap, but the next minute he was floored with the same. My grand daughter was shell shocked. Her husband dragged her and tried to flee away. I shouted at them to come back to me near the exit. But they went near the other side and only then I saw many rushing near that gate. But all friends of this guy blocked the way and stopped them from escaping. They caught hold of my grand daughter......", and he started crying uncontrollably. Judges asked the guard to give him water and asked him to sit on a chair. Because he cannot stand for a long time.

Ismail smirked on seeing his condition. After refreshing for few minutes, Rajkumar adjusted his spectacles and continued, "They shot randomly at everyone and everyone died on the spot. Some were writhing on floor. My grand daughter asked for water. I couldn't go there. I was made helpless. Every relative in my family died on the spot. That was when I started cursing the God. Then there was a heavy blast. I closed my ears with hands after that dreadful sound. I felt blood trickling down my ears and my face was burning like hell. I dozed off and when I opened my eyes Varma sir was near me. He was an Inspector then I guess. It was through him I came to know that Ismail the !@#$%^ &*()$%^ has been caught with a few injuries and was admitted in the same hospital. I rushed to see him. But I couldn't move. It was then I came to know one of my leg had been amputated. In this old age, with no relative to depend on, I was orphaned at that age. But doctors planned to fix artificial leg.". He stopped there and eyed Aatif and Ismail. Then he turned to Ibrahim and asked, "Can I ask speak with him?". Varma tried telling something in between. But Raghavan let Rajkumar to speak with him. Rajkumar spoke, "Aatif, you are the oldest among the two. Can I ask you something?". Ismail blurted out, "You Idiot shut the hell up. How the hell will you tell that you saw me with your blind eyes". 'SLAPPPPP'!!! Ismail's eyes failed to catch something with that ear tearing slap. It was Aatif. Everybody was stunned to see such a reaction and he asked Rajkumar to continue. Rajkumar continued, "Tell me, How old are you?? 20 years younger to me? Do you have a family? Batao..". Aatif cleared his throat for the very first time. Varma was shocked, because when Aatif was in the police custody too, never opened his mouth. He muttered, "Yes. I have 2 daughters and a son.". Rajkumar let out a smile and asked, "what you would've done if you had seen your daughter in that railway station?". Aatif kept his mouth shut. That explained things to everyone, Rajkumar smiled to himself and went away from that place.

10.50Am, Supreme Court - Trial Room:

Ibrahim and Raghavan discussed for a few moments and turned to Aatif and Islam to ask their comments. Ismail wanted to shout. But fearing another slap, he kept mum. Aatif's head hung low for most of the time. He eyed everyone in the room for the last time and nodded his head in the opposite way. Ibrahim continued, "Ismail was caught red-handed by Varma in CST. Aatif was caught in New-Delhi airport few years after their group accepted committing this. After examining all the witnesses thoroughly, we hereby sentence both of them to be hanged till death.". Aatif's eyes moistened and he heard everybody's sigh of relief. Some cursed them still. Rajkumar was wiping off the tears and was seen speaking to a photo, probably a family photo.

Aatif cleared his throat for the second time and told, "Sir, could you please help me? I want to speak to all of you and also to all my group members.". Raghavan consulted the CJI and decided to provide the chance to Aatif. When all the media persons rushed into the room, Varma caught hold of Aatif. When everybody started asking questions, he silenced everybody by waving his hand.

"Let me speak please. Am sorry for everything. Allah won't forgive me for what I have done. We did all this for Kashmir. But after being in jail for 3 years, this long time gave a inner gyaan to me. I want to tell Wasim something. Baai, lets leave all this. We certainly don't need a red Kashmir. Do we need? Lets dissolve our group and lets not fight anymore. I know you are seeing this live telecast. To all the Indians, I am asking an apology now. This doesn't mean that the judges are going to change the verdict. You are witnessing a changed Aatif. Am so sorry Rajkumar. Indeed I feel bad for what we have done to your wonderful, happy family. And many others. Goodbye Wasim, Goodbye Kashmir, Goodbye India. We will not disturb you anymore and you won't see any blood. Goodbye everyone". Entire country was stunned at Aatif's confession. It has never happened in India's history and will never happen. Varma and everybody saw Aatif with due respect. He was taken to the van. Rajkumar waved his hands to Aatif.

Goodbye Aatif (To the real human in you).

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.

P.S: This is just a fiction. Was not written to hurt anyone.

With Love,

Fool

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 9; the ninth 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.

Hey Fool, Can you look into a mirror now?
Can you feel my anger?
Can you live your life in peace after you have taken mine?
Can you feed your children with those hands?
Can you still feel my blood pouring down?
Can you forget how I screamed when you stabbed me with your knife?
Can you wipe that image off your head?
Can you make believe it never happened?
Can you peacefully go to bed?
Can you get away with the perfect crime?
Can you disregard your conscience?
Can you make it all right?
Can you make it all good?
Can you tell your friends about me?
Can you keep your dirty little secret?
Can you live with the guilt of losing a friend?
Now tell me, you Fool Can you?

P.S:I guess this will be the serious post on such a topic. Blame my mind for that! If its nice enjoy, else wait for the next blog-a-ton ;)

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.

With Love,

TIME TRAVEL

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 8; the eighth 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 year is 3867 and human race has settled in many other planets other than earth. The robots with artificial intelligence are now more intelligent than all of the human intelligence put together. The technology now enables to have a single 10.25mm chip to have all the known knowledge of the universe. The human race has mutated too fast that by this time, there are more than twelve subspecies in the species of “sapiens”. “Homo” had remained as the only genus to represent non-extinct beings in the “Homidae” Family.

Travel is at a speed greater than light but still E=mc2 doesn’t help much in time travel as imagined. Travel across solar systems is supposed to be done during week ends to visit relatives. Vineet was not much of a winner in this age and he usually dreamed of how his future would be. He had got his knowledge implanted from the Famous Massachusetts Institute of technology which boasted of being in existence for more than 18 centuries. Oh, I forgot as usual, Knowledge was implanted as study was calculated to be a time taking process. For his hobby Vineet explored across solar systems in low speed aircraft's to get a view of interesting planets and interesting sub-species.

And this was one of such trips when his space ship crash landed into a green looking planet. Luckily before his space ship went out of control he had signaled his position with a SOS signal. He stayed in his space craft for a couple of hours even after the crash before taking the risk to get out. He was thinking why the safety patrol hasn’t reached there yet. He took his first steps on the seemingly uninhabited planet. The energy producer of the space craft had stopped working. It was a bit dark as the “Star” was hidden by clouds. He roamed around and reached a sand filled place which looked like a beach shore except that the beach was missing and it was not a desert too as the sand was cold. He felt sleepy – he took his sleeping bag, got into it and slept.

He woke up feeling normal hunger. He was about to get up from his sleeping position when lot of arms clutched his arms and face. Vineet heard voices and when the arm around his face moved he was able to see eleven people with angry faces. When his implanted knowledge started getting him a few answers he was able to figure out that they were all of different sub-species of his own species sapiens. And thanks to his MIT knowledge he was able to figure out that now all 12 sub-species of the species “sapiens” were present in that place. At last somebody spoke “Leave him, he is just like us”.

He talked for some time and came to know each one of them had a similar experience of crash landing on this planet and they were suspecting some fool play. They talked to each other in a group, somebody shared his food. It was almost 24 hours since Vineet’s craft had crash landed on the planet. Suddenly they all saw a huge craft of the Safety patrol landing and soon they were carried to the patrol’s craft. All were seated in a cabin when a group of androids came in loaded with laser guns.

One of the androids spoke “Thanks gentle men for helping us. This will be painless because before you brain could sense the pain in any part of your body the brain itself would have vaporized”. Vineet would have shit his pants but instead the word came from his mouth, “Shit, what do you mean?”. The android replied “You were part of an experiment to test whether this planet is inhabitable by your species, you all survived for 24 hours or more so the test is passed”. Vineet got pissed off and said “what!!!! You test in-habitability with live beings? You people are Crazy or what?”

The Android replied “Yes, no technology has been honed to test in-habitability of your species, so we use live species that is you human beings. Moreover lab rats have been extinct for more than fifteen centuries, as far as any other queries ask your forefathers in hell, Good bye gentlemen”, "Damn with the android’s sense of humor", thought Vineet. And the laser guns moved swiftly and vaporized the twelve species.

Vineet’s brain flashed only one thought when he got up, “What’s the purpose of being in the future”. So next you kill a rat remember that its grand-grand-son could some day save your grand-grand-son..

P.S : Kindly bear with my first attempt in this genre (Sci-fi)

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.

With Love,

Image Courtesy : Google Images

What If...

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 7; the seventh 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.

It was the last day of their college life. Shraddha was sitting in the lawn waiting for her friends. A sudden gush of wind made her dhupatta fall from its destined location. She cautiously took it from the grass and adjusted it again. It was then she saw Krishna waiting in the corner of the lawn. She was damn sure that he was looking at her. All these years, She had noticed him as the serenest guy in the entire class. But he never spoke with Shraddha. Shraddha decided to tell him a Hi on their last day.

When he saw Shraddha coming near him, he stood up and turned the other side for adjusting his shirt and face. The light perspiration on his forehead was the indication of his tension. He heard Shraddha's voice calling him. He turned and saw her face closely within a few steps. This was the most breathtaking scene he had ever witnessed. She said, "Hi Krishna. Its the first time we are speaking though we are classmates. Strange and weird na?". He acknowledged her by just nodding his head. The moment she was about to continue, Krishna continued, "Wait Shraddha, let me open up! I wanted to tell this for many days. But I didn't have the guts! But know what? I love you. I love you so much. Am loving you from the first day I saw you. I even know that you love Ajay. But he is not a good guy". Shraddha was burning with rage and she continued, "Stop it Krishna! You don't have the rights to speak about Ajay! He is my Ajay forever. Now get the hell out of here and go away! Wait, don't try to woo me!"

After 4 years, Krishna saw Shraddha on the 3rd floor of the mall in the same white salwar he saw on the last day. He entered the lift and told "3rd floor". When the lift's door opened, he saw Shraddha waiting for the same. He went near her and called out her name. She turned around and almost tripped on hearing her name uttered by some guy. Before Krishna could speak up Shraddha's sight was blocked by her own tears. They both went to a coffee shop on the same floor. It was Krishna who spoke first. "So Shraddha! How is life? By the way, where is Ajay?". She looked at him questioningly and said, "I don't know anything about that bloody @#$%^&! You were right that day! I shouldn't have listened to him.. But you know? I loved him so much and it was the love that shrouded me and prevented me from hearing out to you, even to the love you expressed on the last day."

She narrated the entire incident that happened after the last day. "We both loved each other so much! Like crazy people do, we went out for long drives, Continuous chatting and movies.. It was till Ajay's dad introduced him to Maya, the only daughter of an Industrialist. From that day, the time he spent with me is less than what he spent with Maya. Many of my friends told about these things. But I believed him completely till the day I saw him with Maya. That too...that too when they both were k....". Shraddha wiped her tears with the tissue Krishna offered. By then, she regained her composure and continued, "I went near Ajay and slapped him right there before Maya's eyes and came back! Later, that evening Ajay came to my house. At first I thought he came to pacify me. But he came there to invite me for his engagement with Maya. He also told the love he had on me was a time pass."

Krishna consoled her and asked about her life. She replied about the job she is doing. When he asked about her marriage or any proposals, Shraddha didn't answer. But She didn't fail to notice the spark in his eyes! She herself gave an explanation to the spark, 'May be the love he has on me or the inquisitiveness to know about the other guy?'. She plainly said, "There is no space for any other guy in my life again!". Krishna understood her stress and assured her that he will be his best friend forever! Shraddha thought, "What if I had met Krishna before Ajay" and wiped her tears. They left the coffee shop, each having different thoughts and so many What If's clouding their mind.

***********

"What if the producer didn't accept this script? What if I didn't get SRK and Kat's dates?", Sighed the new director who reviewed his script for the umpteenth time.

P.S : This is completely my take on the topic. Comments having abusive language will NOT be accepted.

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.

With Love,

Image Courtesy : Google Images

D-Day

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 6; the sixth 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.

Wajeed took the old black robe and wore it with pride. It was the D-Day. He never wanted this day to come in his life. In fact he never imagined. The whole country will be witnessing this. Every news channel will telecast. He took the thick glass with his shaking hands. 'The hands are shaking. Is it because of my impending age or this day?', thought Wajeed. He saw the old clock above the Teak cabinet. 'Time to leave this room and face the reality. Fine.. Let me go'.

Wajeed Iqbal, is the Chief justice of India (CJoI). He felt, he rose to this esteemed position because of the unbiased justice he gave. God wanted to check his fairness. That's why now he is here to give the final judgement, which the entire nation is expecting. The accused is Wajeed's only son Shafkhat - Shafkhat Iqbal. Before 3 years, Wajeed sent him out of the house for cheating with the college people and faking the marks. He expected that Shafkhat will return the next day. But to everyone's dismay he never returned.

Wajeed's family was doomed the day when the nation faced the worst terror attacks. It was Aaliya, Shafkhat's mom who first identified Shafkhat's face which was being televised in the news channels. After Wajeed threw him away from the home, Shafkhat joined a terrorist group. It was the same terrorist group that made the entire country witness a worst havoc. Many Jihad's died in that operation and he was caught alive by the police. The case was shifted to the supreme court and Wajeed has to give the final judgement.

Today Morning - Wajeed was standing before the mirror looking at his bloodshot eyes. He spent the entire night reading and re-reading all the law books wanting a single point that could save Shafkhat from the ropes. But law didn't provide a single hole that he could use to save Shafkhat from the ropes. Aaliya saw him from the corner of the room and came near him. She touched his shoulder. The mere touch sent a current through his veins and he turned back instantly and searched answers to his questions. She wiped his tears and told, "Allah will give you the courage and he will make you to give the right judgement Wajeed. But remember one thing, Shafkhat is our only son and I know you love him more than I do". Wajeed saw her as the epitome of motherliness. He got ready for facing the truth.

Now (Inside the Court) - The prosecutor was arguing and examining all the eye-witness. Shafkhat was standing with his head bent down. Wajeed wanted to save his son. But he is the CJoI. Here, he is the representative of 1000's of people who lost their kith and kin. He is the only ray of hope for them. They wanted justice, they wanted Shafkhat's death. Their rage told them all. Aaliya's unspoken words conflicted with his inner thoughts.

He was sitting oblivious to the courtroom. None of the sections, the prosecutor told registered in his mind. Every nerve of him wanted to save Shafkhat, though he is a terrorist. His mind had a dirty thought (Red) of saving his son, telling some fake reasons. If he choose that decision, the entire nation will spat on him. But his son will be alive. Aaliya would be happy. On the other hand, If he deters his previous decision (pink), Shafkhat will be behind the bars, counting his last days. The entire nation would be happy for Wajeed. But he cant face Aaliya after his gruesome decision. His level of prejudice is being checked here. The straight line between the two, Red and Pink decides it all. It makes him either human or demon. Suddenly, he was relieved of thoughts. He took a decision, The decision he wanted (yellow inside the head). He was happy. Extremely happy.

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 6; the sixth 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.

With Love,

Image Courtesy : Google Images

P.S : This is just a Fiction and It may differ from the actual rules of Indian Judiciary. Kindly Excuse me.

IF I WERE A BABY AGAIN

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 4; the fourth 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 whole day I was thinking and re-thinking about the topic. Yes, believe me, I never thought of writing a post for blog-a-ton. But Blog-a-ton Marshall Vipul, Shankz, Avada Kedavra wanted me to give a try. I said yes! But what to write? Almost by 6.30pm I got a vague idea and started writing at 8pm. Now let me go on to the topic. It is a story. Tell me at the end whether it is realistic. Now off to the story (that's what I think)..

I heard voices around me when I tried opening my eyes. But the luminescence was more and that prevented me from opening my eyes. Someone touched my hands, my face, my toes. I guess it should be my mom. I want to see my mom. I tried my level best to open my eyes so that I can see my mom. The moment I opened my eyes there was cheers all around me and I saw the prettiest woman, my mom. We were discharged from hospital and we came to our place. People were speaking around me in different languages. I didn't understand that. I started crying demanding some privacy. Suddenly a wailing sound at a distance ceased my tearses. It was another baby girl just like me. Wow, am blessed to have a friend in such a short duration. We both saw each other, giggled and waved. It has been 3 long days since I was born and now I feel like sleeping. (Note : The other baby girl, like me, was the little daughter of our maid)

After 2 weeks : Name giving ceremony

It was a joyous occasion. All our relatives came, lifted and kissed me. My mom was the happiest person in that hall. Priests have come and I was wearing a silk dress. My parents lifted me from the cradle and muttered the name "Akshara" in my ears 3 times. Oh... So my name is Akshara. Suddenly I remembered my friend and saw her sleeping in her mothers lap, silently. I was wondering about her beauty, that was when I heard faint weeping sound. I turned around to see who was that and spotted our maid weeping and telling her daughter "I wish you were not born"

After 4 months:

Now I can recognize faces very well and heard people telling that I am a princess to my parents. I was lying in a cushion, dressed in a soft material that my aunt presented me. Wow, I loved the Mickey and Goofy in my dress. I saw our maid coming near me and remembered my friend. Her parents christened her as Jecentha. Lovable name for the lovable girl. I saw her lying alone in the floor in a torn saree bit, dressed in rags. My mom was feeding me mashed apples and Cerelac. Jecentha was screaming at the top of her lungs indicating her mom that she is hungry.

After one year:

My parents threw a big party to all our friends and relatives for celebrating my birthday. I got so many gifts, dresses and soft toys. My tummy was full after having mashed potatoes, apples and Cerelac. Jecentha was happily eating the liquidated porridge, in the corner of the house. She was visibly happy after seeing the new dress she was wearing. She never knew that it was my old dress.

After two years:

I was engaging myself on the play-room (which had lots and lots of toys). From the window of my play-room I could see the kitchen where Jecentha would be sleeping/playing, at this hour. She was not allowed to enter my play-room. She beamed when her mom gave her two broken biscuits. She was contended playing with tumblers and spoons.

After 3 years:

I got admission in a premier school. My dad got me new books, pencils, snack-box, water bottle, bag, uniform, shoes and socks. A day before my reopening, my maid came crying, I went near her and asked "Aunty, what happened?". She was sobbing uncontrollably. My mom came and asked her the reason. Our maid replied that she fought with her husband. When my mom pestered her further for reasons, she told, she couldn't educate their younger daughter. Yes, Jecentha was their 4th daughter. Rest three were dropped outs. I never understood what she said. I asked her to bend down and I wiped her tears. She hugged me and left.

After 15 years:

I am having my board exams tomorrow. I was hovering on the fundamentals of Magnetism. Jecentha came with a glass of milk inside my room. She smiled warmly and gave me the milk. "What are you studying Akshara? Have this milk and read". I got it from her hand and said, "my exams are beginning tomorrow. Pray for me Jesse! You are my lucky charm". She smiled back and wished me good luck. Jecentha's mom refused to continue her studies when my dad offered sponsorship. Her mom told said, if Jesse studies, she can't find a suitable groom for her.

NOW (After 22 years):

Atlast we came to the present scenario. Yes people, am Akshara 22 years old. All these time you were reading about my life instances. There were some MISSES and many HITS in my life. Am working as a research scientist and planning to do my PhD in IISC or IIT. You may wonder about Jecentha. She is married and mom of 2! Her life was contrary to mine. She had some HITS and many, really too many MISSES.

You all may wonder where am heading to. What relation does this post have with the Blog-a-ton topic. Wait...

If I were a baby again, I would have shared all the pleasures I got in my life with Jecentha. I would have shared my food, my cushioned bed, Good-decent dresses, quality education to support herself and many more.. Wish I were a baby again.....

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.

P.S : Thank You so much Vipul for permitting me even after 12 AM. Because of power-cut I couldn't submit my post on time. Kindly excuse and Thanks Shankar :)

With Love,

Image Courtesy : Google Images

Teachers : Now, Then

This post has been published by me on the occasion of the Teachers' Day as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 2; the 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.

Teacher's Day is a great opportunity to express our respect to our teachers and extend our gratitude for making us what we are today. It is the time to pay tribute to them, who have shaped up our career and imparted knowledge to us, not just to excel academically, but also to develop our personality. In this day, we fellow bloggers write upon the topic, "Teachers : Now, Then", for Blog-a-ton, Online marathon of bloggers.

Today, September 5th, the Birthday of Dr. Sarvapalli Radhakrishnan, the second President of India, is celebrated as Teacher's Day. A great philosopher, a true statesman, and a renowned scholar Dr. Radhakrishnan epitomized all the qualities of head and heart which a teacher should have. Teacher’s day is an occasion for all of us to pay tribute to our teachers and commit ourselves to the values espoused by them.

Dr. Radhakrishnan once said,

"We have learnt to fly in the skies, we have learnt to race in the waters, but alas we have not yet learnt to walk on the earth."

We are here to discuss the topic - Teachers : Now, Then. Its just the comparisons between yesteryear teachers and present day teachers. Before getting into the argument, I must write about the role played by our teachers from our childhood days to our present day! At kindergarten, teacher becomes a substitute for mother. The teacher takes care of the students and treats them as her own children. When they grow older, teacher assumes the role of an instructor, who guides his/her students to become a good person and instills moral in them. When the students are capable to stand on their own feet, the mentor assists them to reach all the milestones and accomplish all the goals set for life. During the formative years of life, teacher showers immense love and affection upon his/her students, in return of which he/she expects nothing but appreciation. Teacher's Day is a wonderful occasion to reciprocate the love and affection shown to us, by our teacher.

Who is a considered as a Real Teacher?

"Teaching is the profession that teaches all the other professions"

Teachers are considered the mentors, who not only guide a person academically, but also inculcate moral and ethical values in the student.

Whether or not you’re attending school, the need will arise for you to find a teacher or mentor to help you on your educational journey. You may need someone to guide you in your understanding of great literature, show you how to lay brick, or help you excel in your career. They are the creators of responsible citizens, who contribute to the society in one way or the other.

:::YESTERYEAR TEACHERS vs PRESENT DAY TEACHERS:::

Coming to the topic, I want to deal this by comparing both the sets by taking some common points like: Challenges faced, Method of teaching, Mentality and many more!

First let me start with YESTERYEAR TEACHERS . I am writing this post after collecting some information's from my dad, regarding the teachers during his school-college days. Teachers then has been very dedicated to this profession. They wanted every single student to excel. There was no partiality shown. Partiality between caste, creed, rich/poor was left outside the classroom. Real talents was encouraged. The dedication they had for teaching is awesome.

"The best teachers teach from the heart, not from the book."

When they came to class, they come with an empty hand. They are extemporaneous. When they take up a topic they won stop with the contents given in the book. They will give practical examples for each and everything irrespective of the subject they take. Practical examples when associated with a concept makes the younger brain grasp easily and it increases the interest shown towards the subject. My dad told he never had the habit of studying after coming from the school. The reason was the topic they taught and the concept would have been easily grasped which never require further read. Tuition has never been encouraged. I want to tell this with a real example. One of my dad's friend was a low scoring student . When he approached the teacher for taking class, the teacher told, "Listen why do you waste your time by coming to tuition's. If you come here for tuition that means am not teaching properly in the class. You do one thing. listen all the things which I teach in class. Even if you understand go home, take your book and study. You will surely get doubts. Come to me the next day and I will surely clarify your doubts". Have any of our parents told us that they studied through tuition?

That teacher who was against taking tuition's earned a mere amount for his living. If he thought of earning money, he could have taken tuition for that boy. But money was not on his charts. He wanted his students to surpass everyone. He lived according to a proverb, "A gifted teacher is as rare as a gifted doctor, and makes far less money". He still gives his pension as a scholarship for poor students. That's just a mere amount but it matters alot! Can we find teachers like him at present?

Coming to PRESENT DAY TEACHERS!

They face the worst challenges. How many students respect their lecturers? They are in a position to demand respect. Students listen songs, send SMS to their friends. They are cornered because they can't question those people. Some teachers give seminars to students. Seminars in the sense,each unit will be divided into several topics and allotted to several students. By means of this the student takes up the class by just reproducing the contents present in the book. Only some of them takes it seriously and put in effort. If students are taking classes, what for lecturers are there? Will the fellow students understand the topic taken?

How many of them are dedicated to this profession?! These days, there are a lot of people who claim to be teachers. Some have certification from the state, some are followed as gurus, and some offer their services with a “money back guarantee”. But, not one of these qualifications means that a person is actually able to teach. But these day because of the advancement of technology, teachers are able to accumulate lot of details for imparting their knowledge to students. But how many of them are doing it? In one of my friends college, the lecturer came in and started teaching DIGITAL ELECTRONICS, the most important subject for an Electronics Engineer. My friend stood and asked her to explain a particular concept. In reply, she asked my friend to come after the class hours. When my friend approached, the lecturer told, "Listen if you ever ask me any doubts in the class, You will fail in your your internals! Those precious 20 marks, your internals are in my hand. So don't try to ask anything!". This is the current position. Are they passionate about teaching? Are they dedicated?

The number of tuition centers are increasing daily. The teachers fail to teach the concepts properly and hence students go in search of tuition centers. My cousin's Sanskrit teacher working in a popular school in chennai, getting a salary in 5 digits per month, asked all the students in his class to come to tuition. He also mentioned that he will teach only a small portion in class and remaining in the tuition. To get marks, my cousin go to that tuition by paying 500 bucks monthly! Are they teacher's or robbers? Money changes this Noble Profession as a Business.

"Good teachers are costly, but bad teachers cost more."

Having LCD projector and teaching through PPT can be the trend,but those are the miniatures of the contents in book! Again the teachers reproduce the book! Is this a Real learning. What we learn and what we work upon are two different poles which will never go hand in hand. Theoretical knowledge and Practical working atmosphere are dissimilar. If the teachers combine both of them, we can understand the requirement of the industry and equip ourselves accordingly.

A 55 fiction before going to the conclusion.

"Kevin, you scored 5/100. You are unfit to be in Tenth Standard!"

He really felt ashamed and wanted to take revenge on his teacher.

NOW...

"Ma'am? You recognize me? Kevin, your unfit student! I proved you are wrong. Am an engineer"

"I know you will do it. So I Kindled your senses."

His mouth went dry!

I am dedicating this post to all the best teachers. Teachers in the sense not only those who taught me in school or college. Am learning new lessons, lesson for life each day, from friends, relatives, and all other living being am encountering.

Teachers should teach the students not only for scoring marks but also in a way to develop their intellectual and analytical skills. Teach the students about the latest trends along with Charles Babbage's invention. Technology has improved and it facilitates them and be the best tool for educating students.

"No man can be a good teacher unless he has feelings of warm affection toward his pupils and a genuine desire to impart to them what he believes to be of value."

Happy Teachers Day!

Thank you teachers. We are writing, criticizing, appreciating about you and your proffession. Thank you for teaching us how to write! Without you we would have been illiterate! Thank you for showing us the light. Thus you are rightly called as GURU's, the one who removes the darkness and shows the light.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton are Vipul, Rajalakshmi, Dhiman, Ranee[1], [2], [3] , Avada, Indian Pundit, Sojo, Aneet, Pramathesh, Aativas, Sid, Pra, Ajinkya, Lakshmi, Govind, Shilpa, Bharathi, Shankar, Mytuppence, Azad, Pawan, Pankaja, Saimanohar, Guria, Vishnu,Nasrajan and Richa. Click on their respective names to read their posts on Teachers : Aaj Kal. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

With Love,

Image courtesy : GOOGLE Images