On Creation

Creationists believe the universe and life originated from specific acts of divine creation.  They consider the earth to be ‘young’ unlike the grand old Earth theorized by the theory of Evolution. I reject the creationist theory with unequivocal conviction. And unlike those grumpy evolutionary scientists my rejection is based on solid proof which I have seen with my own eyes.


If there is anything that can create a universe out of nothing, it is nothing other than a Kerala State Road and Transport Corporation (KSRTC) bus! I am driving through the roads of Kerala for the past two months now. Countless number of times I have witnessed the miracle of a KSRTC bus flying past me. By flying I don’t mean the huge clunky Chinese bus which travel above the traffic. KSRTC buses just create roads out of thin air. Just a couple of days back I was stuck in a traffic and with an eerie feeling I could see a KSRTC bus in my left side view mirror. To my best knowledge there is nothing on the left side, not even a pavement. The size of the bus grew larger and like that T-Rex passing right next to you, it went. It took me a while to get out of my shock. It is due unbelief that I have to report that the traffic was still at a standstill. All this while, my car didn’t even move an inch. It is at the moment I had this epiphany: KSRTC buses can create roads and space out of thin air; the rules of traffic and physics don’t apply to them. And if you need any further proof of their miraculous existence, despite travelling nearly at the speed of light, they are almost never on time.



With all the above mentioned proof it can be undeniably concluded that the universe and all the life forms were created from the exhaust of a bunch of KSRTC buses running against time. Unlike other so-called creators KSRTC buses still live amidst the subjects, protecting and punishing them; teaching them humility. Above all they give hope to humanity, miracles can still happen.
Not in the same breath but I also should mention the lesser Gods of the road, the private buses. They may drive rashly, more speed and may cause more accidents. But they aren’t as good as the elder Gods. They are the fast foods in transportation. They come with bright colours and cheesy names but no substance. They try their hand at creation but they cannot dream of matching with the KSRTC buses in the creating roads out of thin air (or even thick air, depends on how bad the exhaust is).



The elder Gods are not alone but. To micromanage the day to day complexities of the never ending traffic, the Gods have anointed autorikshaws. They are also blessed but to a lesser degree of the miracle of creation. In high improbable situations they manage to create a dimple in the space-time fabric to get to their destinations seconds earlier. As with the KSRTCs these tiny angels/devils also have the privilege of selectively following rules of traffic as well as physics.
In the end these Gods have taken forms of automobiles, both big and small, to teach humanity valuable lessons. Patience, tolerance, acceptance etc which take years of meditation can be learned in a matter of few days if one were to drive through the streets of God’s own country. Ever wondered why is it called God’s own Country? Now you know.

One child at a time

• ·                 Ancient cavemen who lived thousands of years ago had no agriculture techniques. They had no fertilizers or pesticides. No satellites or radios to tell them if it's going to rain the next day. They had to find food on a daily basis. They would have constantly worried about finding food the next day. They moved across the land in search of food. 

  Now we have various agriculture techniques. We can farm round the year. We know when will it rain and when will it snow. We know if a cyclone is coming two weeks before. We have various organic and chemical fertilizers. Pests can be controlled. Then why do we still have people who have to find food on a daily basis? Why do children have to move across the land to work for food? What is the use of having everything yet having so many starving people on Earth?

  
  

  India is one the leading countries in the ‘hunger situation’. That itself is a cruel irony as India has 7^th largest land mass in the world. Still we lag behind other countries in basic necessity of humankind. Our children face the same problem people faced thousands of years ago. For our present generation the advances in science and technology mean nothing as long as he is hungry. The socio-political changes will not affect him till his hunger is satisfied. He will not sit and study when he is hungry.

  

  
  

  The ancient nomads settled down when they started farming. And so taking a lesson from this ancient history I suggest we start a small farm with every school. Let the students grow and cultivate locally grown fruits and vegetables. This will provide a constant and non-exhaustible source for meals. Since it is meant for immediate consumption preservatives need not be added.  

   Anything that is extra can be given back to the students only to take it home. They can also sell the extra products and make an additional income. In this way a well maintained farm in a school can make a community self sufficient. Local farmers can come forward to guide the students also. Involvement of more experts in the field will lead to better results. 

  This will also provide the student with a firsthand experience in agriculture. In future also he/she can make their own food in their backyards. 

  Self sufficiency in food is one of the most important steps in development.

  
  

   I am going to #BlogToFeedAChild with Akshaya Patra and BlogAdda.

  
  

  
  

  (Many thanks to fellow blogger and author Dr.Roshan Radhakrishnan for the tag. I was in a long hiatus from the blogosphere but this topic got to me.) 

The virtual dance of democracy

It is said to be the Dance of democracy. There are various superlatives given to our elections. The whole process of election makes the people feel powerful. All the so called powerful leaders will come and ask for the common man’s vote. What they do with the vote is an entirely different question. This time the social media is said to play a major role

 The amount of work these parties put into their online campaigning it would look like the election is going to take place in Facebook with Mark Zuckerberg as the electoral officer or that the election commission will consider the number of retweets and favourites also along with the cast vote.

Yes! XYZ Party gets more likes and hence we have a winner!

My favourite social media of the lot is twitter. I am pretty sure that the creators of twitter would have had one of those friends who just won’t keep quiet. They must have come up with this brilliant idea while talking to her/him.  

Anyways you open twitter now and it is elections all over. Full of trivia which no one really cares about. Major news handles trying to outreach other major news handles by bringing exclusive items about candidates' past and present. When they run out of such highly interesting trivia I am half expecting these people will go to some astrologer to get exclusive breaking news about the candidates’ future also. In fact that is a good idea. Instead of having the experts and political commentators they should have a panel of astrologers, psychics, tarot card readers, Paul the octopus (in spirit of course, which I am sure can be arranged) and have a healthy discussion on the future of the Indian democracy.  

Now things like candidate A wore a t shirt last year in a function which proves him to be an agent of the West or candidate B wore a kurtha pyjama last month which made him regressive and against development are getting momentum in twitter! This will ensure a series of tweets making fun of the said candidates and hordes of people supporting candidates A, B and C, more or less making it a trend. They will have childish twitter fights on how childish it is to fight on twitter. They will profess great ideas about how the country should be run in 140 letters. I mean where did all those ignorant geeks go? What happened to all the good old days when Poonam Pandey could start a trend with a single tweet? (Now even she has to resort to the English premier league) Or how Koffee with karan used to trend with its sheer brilliance! 

 Every day at least two of the top trends now are political in nature. This is setting a bad example to the upcoming generation that wants to join twitter. For them it’ll be a choice between the politically aware pseudo intellectuals of Twitter and the self obsessed ignorant teens and aunties of Facebook. That’s worse than choosing between Modi and Rahul Gandhi. 

I find solace in instagram now. Barring the selfie fever it is a wonderful social network to drool over the food you'll never eat and places you'll never visit. 

The following are some of the statistics I found while researching on this. (By research I meant Google. Isn't that kind of obvious?)

India has

114.8 Million Facebook users  (http://qz.com/150274/india-facebook/ )

33 Million Twitter users (http://www.alltechienews.com/posts/twitter-s-most-active-country-is-china )

A total of 147.8 million users

We have 814 million eligible voters (http://blogs.reuters.com/india/2014/04/03/facts-and-figures-for-the-2014-general-election/)

We also have a population of around 400 million without access to electricity (http://web.worldbank.org/WBSITE/EXTERNAL/TOPICS/EXTENERGY2/0,,contentMDK:22855502~pagePK:210058~piPK:210062~theSitePK:4114200,00.html )

Around 18 % of the voters are in the social media but a staggering 49 % do not have access to electricity.

 This 18% is widely spread all over the country with probably a high density in the urban areas.

Do we have to politicize the social media also for this? Social networks are probably among the few places left where your religion, location, cast, political leanings don’t really matter. Why not keep it that way?

Do dance along for the democracy.

(Do share this with the pseudo intellectuals, ignorant teens and Google employees) 

Of Half baked dreams - 55 words fiction

The old man placed the dough in the oven. He set the temperature. The girl looked on. After a while she asked if it was ready. He took it out and showed the half baked cake. Dreams are like this only he said. She thought of her half baked dreams with tears in her eyes.

"One more patient"

Beethoven's fifth symphony. One of the most powerful music ever composed. The distinct rise at the beginning; followed by the fall, then the gradual growth again. I fell in love with it many years back. As they say once you are enticed by that beautiful piece of music you will find it hard to go back.

Nurse asked if she should get the phone. She is new. The regulars know that this ringtone is assigned to my other love. She’ll be calling to tell me she reached. She can wait. While this patient cannot. Road traffic accident it seems. What do we know but what the patient party tells us. Even in the casualty they tell stories to keep their side safe.
I told her I’ll be done in 10 minutes. Well that was around 40 minutes ago. I don’t think anybody would understand my duties so well.
Patient is conscious but numerous bruises on the face. Only after the blood and dirt is removed you get to know the full extent of his injuries. Sometimes it is not as bad as it appears. From the looks of it all the major arteries are intact. It won’t take much time hopefully.
The fifth symphony. Again. She will be waiting outside. She has been with me long enough to know my 10 minutes might go up to an hour or sometimes more. She will be probably calling to see whether I am stuck with the paper works. She sometimes helps with those stuff.
 If only the patient knew what and all thoughts that go through our heads while cleaning up the wounds. Sometimes the training and your instincts take over and let you do certain procedures with ease.
“Doctor one more patient. They are trying to stabilize her”
Almost one hour since my duty got over technically but I am still here. I looked at the clock, making it obvious for the nurse that I am looking at the clock.
“Last patient sir; promise” nurse said with a smile. I was amazed at the ability of the nurse to smile at that moment.  Her cheerfulness was contagious. Last patient it is.
“Take my phone, call Sarah and ask her where she is.” I said as I walked to that patient on the other side of the casualty.
Her ringtone becomes louder and louder. She is already here? I thought of looking around but she shouldn’t be inside the casualty. I first saw that lady holding her phone, one look at the patient told me what I feared.
Everything went black. I think I fell down.

(I got the idea for this story from a real life incident where I couldn't meet an old friend due to my professional responsibilities. I was feeling bad about it but then I realized that is how it is gonna be. I accepted the fact that sometimes or most of the times professional commitments might stand in the way of personal ones. Beethoven's 5th symphony is indeed a masterpiece, it is worth listening to.. )

Memories. .

It has been a long hiatus from the blogosphere. A series of personal and professional commitments came during the last three months and I am still not settled.
Above all my grandfather, who was an inspiration for me to start writing passed away one month back. He has published one novel and 3 short story collections. His stories were simple and gave out a message to the readers. He put across his ideals and principles of life through his stories. The stories are simple enough to emotionally connect with the reader. As he himself tells in the foreword, the stories had come to him while he visited various places across India. Stories of people.

He has read only my first story and he pointed out certain flaws in it but was happy about it. I was apprehensive of showing him my later stories and I did not show him anymore. Simply because he was an authority in English grammar and I was not very good at it. Also I thought my content and language might be offensive but what did I know.
 I was with him for quite sometime in the hospital and that had given me a new perspective of life. The days were basically spent talking to him as he was fully oriented and had an excellent memory till his end.
I also got the single copy of his first book which was published around 40 years back. Till then I had read only his recent books. Reading those stories I realized the violence streak I sometimes have in my stories might be hereditary because unlike his later stories those stories were violent and brutally emotional. Now I regret not showing him my stories and missed his valuable observations.
The most important lesson I learned from him is not to be in a hurry, fate will twist you, throw you and take its own sweet time. We just have to be prepared.
He left us all with a great deal of memories.

May his soul rest in peace.

Touching Lives

X ray was discovered by William Roentgen in 1875 but the first recorded medical use was by John Hall Edwards in 1896 when he recorded a needle stuck in the hand of one his associates.  

The first X ray
(Picture courtesy: Wikipedia)

21 years it took for the scientists to realize the actual potential of the x ray. X ray can be said to be the first modern medical technology where the field of medicine broke the traditional concepts of surgery and medicines. X ray offered an unhindered vision into the human body which was not even dreamed of before.  Ever since then modern healthcare acquired a whole new meaning. The use of machines gave a definite diagnosis where only guesswork and assumptions were available previously.

In the present state, modern healthcare makes treatments easily available for the masses. Many instances can be given on how the lives of people have been touched by the new healthcare system.

‘Prevention is better than cure’

We all have said and heard this a thousand times at least. Vaccinations are probably the perfect examples for this. Vaccines may not be considered ‘modern’ but the advent of vaccines is one of the major reasons for the reduced infant mortality rates all over the world. The disease small pox was eliminated from the face of the earth only by vaccination. Dreadful disease polio is also on its way of extinction. Our country is already said to have eliminated polio. This was also done by the systematic vaccination schemes.

Awareness is an important aspect of the modern healthcare. With rising number of hospitals and clinics people have become aware of the diseases and various treatments. Earlier camps and all have to be conducted for the people. It was like going to the people with the medicine but now the population knows when to go to a doctor. I know this personally because I am a practising dentist. Earlier people come to a dentist when they have an unbearable toothache and they just want to extract the tooth but now they visit a dentist as soon as they suspect caries. Awareness of this level among the population has vastly helped to control many diseases. They have succeeded in assuring the constant rise of life expectancy of people in the country.

More and more people now come to a hospital and make use of the modern healthcare facilities because of the faith in the system. Many years back the majority of the people were sceptical of going to a hospital. They did not trust the medicines that were put into the veins. Now they embrace it. Modern facilities have the faith of the people which itself is a great deal while treating a disease.

This faith is mainly because they know there are only a few other fields where so much research takes place. Researches on all aspects of the medical field are taking place all over the world at an astonishing pace. With absolute surety I can tell you the researches taking place in the medical field touch the lives of each and every single person. Years back a block in the heart was a death sentence, now it is just another disease which can be treated surgically. Diabetes was a life shattering disease, now it is a life style changing condition.  Recently a hormone called betatrophin was discovered which could generate beta cells and the daily insulin shots can be stopped.  Dialysis was a rare and risky procedure done on terminal patients, these days many people get it down twice or thrice a week and lead a good life. Cancer was indeed the Emperor of Maladies. With wide spread availability of radiation, chemotherapy and surgical procedures cancer to some extent can be controlled. The results of such meticulous research are that diseases which were considered incurable in the yesteryears are being cured now. AIDS which was deemed as incurable is getting cures from different researches. It was only two months back that an infant was cured of AIDS. The actual drug might take some time to reach the market but it is a start.

 More than the actual procedures it is the latest in diagnostic techniques which can lead to an early detection and hence early treatment.  The different diagnostic techniques are being popularized nowadays for an early detection of the diseases. Oral cancer can be detected from the scrapings from the cheek. The advancements in the chemistry and physics have contributed a lot to the development of various diagnostic techniques.  Diagnostic scans based on nuclear medicine like bone scan and PET scan give a whole new perspective to diagnosis and treatment as they point out problems pertaining to specific locations of our body. These techniques show diseases and conditions of our body like never before. More and more people are opting for a routine health check-up twice a year because they know earlier you start treating better are the results.  

An aspect of modern healthcare which is said to be a downfall is the cost. Some may find the hospital costs exorbitant but in the same page something has to be added. It is that the cost is for the services offered; no other facilities have as much recurring expenses or overheads as healthcare field. The big machines used for diagnosis comes with a price. If a person takes a normal health insurance he or she will find the hospitals very much affordable, with more competitions in the insurance field patient is benefiting  Hospitals only are giving out special schemes for the needy, they just have to utilized.

Modern healthcare as many have perceived is not just the new medicines and big machines.  It is a holistic approach aiming to alleviate the sufferings of the patient and ensure a good standard of living. Modern healthcare uses the best of all proven modalities to treat a patient. It may include music therapy, yoga, meditation etc..  Meditation and yoga has been proven to reduce mental stress and fatigue thereby easing many of the physical problems.  Modern healthcare deviates from the strictly traditional setting and seek new methods to help the patient.  A healthy mind is the key to a healthy body.

Finally the most important of all is that modern healthcare gives hope. It gives hope to the patient and to their loved ones.  It gives hope to the most terminal of all patients that the modern healthcare system is advanced enough to cure them, that there will be some sort of experimental treatment somewhere in the world to cure them. It is all about the faith people have in the healthcare system. So how does modern healthcare touch lives? By giving them hope.

I don't want to achieve immortality through my work... I want to achieve it through not dying
Woody Allen 

This post is written as an entry to the Indiblogger contest 'How does modern healthcare touch lives?' in association with Apolo Hospitals .

God 2.0 : the Facebook avatar!

 I confess I was a facebook addict. I used to keep going to Facebook every 5 minutes. Update my status, likes, comments, birthday wishes and all that jazz. Then people/organizations start using facebook to spread their propaganda.
If it is on facebook then the youth are supporting it ideology has been there for some time now.  X puts something in facebook.  In a few hours there'll be 11234 likes and X is the hero of Facebook and the new face of the youth of the nation.

For illustrative purpose only. The number of likes is not edited.  

Indeed facebook was an instrument in many movements across the globe but you got to agree something is not so right when so many people something like this.
One day I realized there are more ads than funny updates, more share it if you agree philosophy crap than actual funny stuff, utter stupidities supposedly from Nobel prize winning scientists, requests for i-don't-know-what and-all  and finally the posts from God.  (No I did not mean the pony tailed, blue suit wearing smiling guru; Also not Sachin Tendulkar)

What I was talking about is the supreme, the most humorous, the one and only God himself. Well you gotta admit he is funny.  He let Ajay Devgan make Himmatwala, nobody bombed RGV even though his movies bombed and after proclaiming the autonomy of CBI for such a long time the CBI director only told it was not autonomous. You see what I am getting at right?
Ok I have gone way too much from the topic at hand. The topic is the umpteen number of posts/images/miracles shared over facebook.
They are indeed made by God in his leisure time and posted into the thousands of groups he owns under various fake profiles he created. (Think twice before adding that girl from Sweden who asked you about your sins)
So once he posts his followers (true followers) are meant to share/like and comment it is awesome. God keeps a tab on all those who see the post and not share/like. They will suffer for eternity in hell with a laptop and high speed internet with only facebook and no porn sites. (Please, I am not talking about future India; Devils court of law is much faster than the Honorable Supreme Court)
And so the numerous religious posts appear in my timeline.  I consider all the religious fanatics same because usually they are the ones who knows the least about their religion.
These posts usually start with a miracle that happened last week or last century, followed by its implication in the present age, the humble request to share it your friends and family to spread the word and finally the ignore it if you are heartless, ignore this if you don't care for the baby or don't share and you'll be watching Korean serials for eternity without the subtitles warnings.

Then there are these directions to live posts. They usually contain 3 to 3000 points on how to live according to the holy books of the concerned. They usually contain numerous references to the ghastly modern way of life like wearing jeans, watching tv, reading books, driving cars, drinking coffee, wishing others on their festivals etc. Some of these posts rather blatantly put across that not following those rules (some of them so archaic that deleting would require permission from the archaeology dept.) will ensure you in the eternal fire of hell for eternity.  These people (or God?) making those posts or images are really creative, they put realistic images to go with the matter. What surprises me more is the sheer number of people who share such posts.   If one through their timeline I am sure at place or the other one specific community is being targeted and tortured. There will be accompanying photos to prove their point and the innocent facebookers who see this will share it because they/we speak up against injustice and violence (in facebook, obviously).  High chances are those photos are photoshoped or would be of something totally different. Nobody might not even care what the photo shows, but still we share and like. Probably because deep down we are afraid if God is gonna see the posts we shared and liked on judgment day.  Fear is indeed a strong motivator. The way these propaganda people are posting stuff it is like God has asked them specifically to do a PR stunt on facebook to get to the new generation.
If God wanted us to blindly obey some self appointed preachers or godmen or to literally follow the holy texts he simply wouldn't have given us the free will, consciousness and the important ability to think for ourselves. He would have probably made some drones whose sole purpose of their existence is to worship the creator. It is like making a robot solely to promote the creator; doesn't really make any sense.
We shouldn't let anyone else bully us into feeling guilty for not doing something someone told hundreds or thousands of years back. Scriptures of every religion (except for Scientology perhaps) have been written in another era and it should never be literally interpreted in the present time.
Guilt is what we feel when we know we did something wrong and we all have a well developed mind to know the right from wrong, at least most of us. Use your own consciousness to know right from wrong rather than depending on what someone else told somewhere else sometime back.
It is rather an oxymoron that I'll be promoting this post  on Facebook only and request you my reader to share this or a komado dragon is going to snatch away your your lunch!

The Capital Crime

This is an open letter to the self appointed cultural/moral polices of our country.

A five year old girl has been brutally raped and tortured for four days in the capital city. 

Would you say it happened because the girl wore provocative dress??
Would you say it happened because she went out at night??
Would you say it happened because she was drinking??
Would you say it happened because she went out with another boy??

This happened to a five year old girl who went out to play, right outside her apartment. She was held a captive in the same neighborhood for four days and was tortured and the captive tried to kill her also.

 http://www.thehindu.com/news/cities/Delhi/raped-5yearold-girl-critical-in-delhi/article4633409.ece

It is sickening and depressing to read about such things in the newspaper, to watch endless debates on the tv.
Just five years. Age where she should be thinking about cartoons and imaginary friends. Her life will not be the same again.
After the brutal Delhi rape incident I was shocked to see some insensitive comments coming from people of position. The indifference to the plight of women in the society has come down to a new level now. The apathy of the law enforcement, the politicization of any such barbaric actions and the time consuming judicial process.
Is our country a haven for rapists and perverts? According to many the rapists did not do anything wrong, it was the victim who provoked them and the victim is to be blamed. I don't think anywhere else such an opinion even exist. Such idiotic comments and statements will only add on to the crimes against women. Anyone would think they can get away with such heinous activities. 
The so called proponents of the Bharath culture should not project their insecurities and attitude on to the youth. They shouldn't pass their archaic opinions as the opinion of the society they are said to be representing. The great culture they talk had widows burned alive. They are not accepting the change, they don't see the world is changing. Gone were the days when the man hunted and brought food while the women cleaned and cooked.
They should know that rape and other crimes against women are not something that happens only in India. There are deeper issues to be addressed but nothing of that sort happens here as they put the blame on the victim. They should make sure men should see a girl for the person she is and not as an object for their gratification.

The saddest and the most depressing part is not the nonsense comments of a few but the silence of the many.
Our country will continue to be a haven for such criminals till that silence is broken and the deep rot is removed. Only a few incidents in the metros will see the light of the day, the rest remain unsaid and unheard.

This post is dedicated to the unheard victims of various sexual crimes happening all over the country, to their silence. 

Superman - 55 words fiction

"Guess what!  I am superman!" He said
"Really??" She asked
"Yeah"
"Screw you. Why did you come? "
"So many questions otherwise"
"Can you give me a hug? "
"Sure"
They reached the ground together, embracing each other. Free fall from the 35th floor  can be fatal.
She slipped and he jumped after. Friendship till the end.

The King of Patiala and the Horse Riders

The King of Patiala was taking his usual morning stroll in the royal garden.  The interior affairs minister, a short rash guy came running to the king.
“Your highness! Emergency! The village youth had been found to sit on the royal emblem and the pride of our nation. The horse!”
“What?? How is it possible?? Isn't there rules against that??”
“I checked with the legal affairs minister your highness. He is on his way to meet you.  It seems the constitution has laid rules on how to breed the horse, what to feed the horse, by-laws on how to milk the horse, sub-clauses on the recipes for horse meat but there is no rule against sitting on the horse! I doubt this is a conspiracy by the enemy states to make the people lose their respect for the  royal emblem and so disintegrate the national unity which would make our country more vulnerable to the invasion ”
The minister told it so fast that the king understood only the last word.
“Well don’t just stand here then! Go make one law against that! Where is that legal affairs minister??”
“Your highness he will reach here soon. And there he is”
The minister said pointing to the bulky, very bulky legal affairs minister walking slowly, so slow that he’ll give an excellent competition to the a snail which is competing in a slow cycle race.
The king and the internal affairs minister stood affix waiting for the legal minister to reach them.
“Your highness I heard from the internal affairs minister about the sinister act of the youth in the village. What ought to be done?”
“What else? Make a new law banning all sorts of sitting and standing on the horse illegal. I want it done before sundown today!”
“Yes your highness!” The legal affairs minister then started his very slow walk back to his office.
“Well done minister for the swift action. You deserve the ‘Order of the Horse Mane’ award!” King was indeed pleased with the interior affairs minister.
The minister left and the king resumed his walk around the garden.

Four innocent hapless young men were arrested from the village the next day while playing a new game on their pets.
 They were sentenced to five years in prison upon the charges of showing disrespect to the national emblem, trying to disintegrate the national unity, conspiring with the enemies against the kingdom, plotting to overthrow the king and finally drinking the horse milk other than how it was directed in the constitution.  Of course the evidences were all circumstantial.

(You may think this is an euphemism or metaphors or something like that but the author is not responsible for  what the reader makes of this story!)

(This story is dedicated to my close friend, whose conversations laid the ground for the Kingdom of Patiala and has asked me to write about it here.) 

Travelling light. .

I went to the Kochi Muziris Biennale yesterday and I did not take a camera with me.

What is the big deal you may ask. Photography is one of my passions and I bought my first camera around a year back. Being photo obsessed I really wanted to take the camera, but due to some inconvenience my camera was not with me and there was no chance I could get another one.  With deep regrets I still went.  The following are the thoughts which arose on travelling light, without the burden of a camera, without the urge to click photos of anything and everything.
 This is not about the Biennale as such; I don’t think I can write about it as it is literally beyond words. This is just a thought I had when I walking through exhibits without the weight of a camera hanging on my neck or mind.
The first stall itself was really captivating and I couldn’t come out of it without taking a photo at least in my phone. People who know my obsession know that I really hate photos taken on a phone. I don’t know why, I just hate it. In spite of that I still took one photo.

Then I was literally lost on the works that was displayed, till I reached the food stall. Not having a camera was in fact a releasing feeling.  I did not have to bother waiting for the crowd to move to take the photo. Don’t have to worry about the quality of the photos. I can just walk through the exhibits. The food stall was located behind the venue, right next to the backwaters. The sight was really good and almost all of those people coming there immediately took out their cameras and started clicking photos.  The first thought that came to my head also was that. The location is picture perfect. The backwaters, a small country bout in the vicinity and some other boats a bit out into the waters.

 As I sat down there and observed people, I saw that more of them came there and rather than seeing the scene they immediately turn their backs to the scene and front to the camera, but is it worth it? Sacrificing the the time to stand there and enjoy the scene we immediately look around to find the perfect spot to take a photo.  We might probably upload it in Facebook and get ‘likes’ and ‘comments’ but beyond that what? We’ll keep it in it our computers? I am not sure about others but I have to keep the photos in my system in an organized manner but most of the time it ends there.
 So once I was done with the first location i.e the Aspinwall HouseI moved on to the next location in the map; the Pepper House. There a very good café was arranged. I must have sat there for around 45 minutes and wrote random thoughts about whatever I have seen till then.
Memories need not be always captured with a camera. Memories are those which are etched in our minds. Cameras literally capture everything, just because we have a camera we tend to take photos of our breakfast to the dog we saw on the road. The so called ‘moments’ are sometimes spoiled by our obsession to record and keep it forever. The actual moments or memories are often lost among such hundreds of photos. Real memories are those which are recreated in words with the person whom you share the memory with. It need not be showed off to the world.
 Sitting at the café I could capture the images of the people sitting near me as words, it would look weird if I start taking their photos.
Do try it once in a while, go to some place nice without the heaviness of a camera and keep those moments in your memory.
(Those who can do visit the Kochi Muziris Biennale, it is something I haven’t seen till now, totally worth it!)

Over a Cup of Coffee

"I came here just because my mother forced me.” 
Sarah said as she sat down in front of Karthik. Not even a smile, he noticed. They were in a coffee shop going through the modern version of an arranged marriage. The guy and the girl meeting up in a coffee shop, much alike to a blind date but just that this one was set up by their parents and one of them was not really into it. 
“It is not like I am against arranged marriage or anything but I want to spend some time doing things which I like to do.” She continued.

“What are those things?” Karthik spoke for the first time.
“Travelling for instance…… Basically do things with my friends…… Watching movies……… I had a boy friend in my college so didn’t really hang out with my friends then, kinda making up for all the time I wasted. YES I had a boyfriend and I used to hang out with him all the time. Don’t give that surprised look. … I didn’t study in a medical college to spend all my time nerding off in front of the books……. We can enjoy the whole semester and cram the studies to the last one week. . ”
“Cappuccino, two,” said Karthik to the waiter, other than which he did not really say anything.
“My mother was very adamant on seeing you as her cousin’s somebody’s somebody had a high opinion of you.” Sarah continued talking as the cappuccino came.
Karthik let that compliment pass with a smile.
“You being a doctor would be used to a serious life style. I am not saying it is bad or anything but I like somebody who is a bit more relaxed and fun loving. You guys really do a good job saving people’s life and stuff like that but then again you are not really the risk takers in your personal life. I am sure you must be the kind who used to study on a daily basis”
“Not really.  I usually..” He had to stop as she continued with her monologue.
“.. We on the other hand don’t really have to break our backs studying like that because we don’t really face a life or death situation. If we can manage to…”

“Oh f***!!” Karthik nearly jumped out of his seat.
“What??” Sarah  was shocked to see the  f word coming out of the ‘good-boy’
“It is my ex – girlfriend!!”
“  What??? You ex girl friend??”
“No time to talk now, we have to move fast!” Saying this Karthik took Sarah’s hand and literally ran out through the other entrance of the coffee shop, almost knocking down another couple on the way.
He released her hand only when they were a safe distance away from his ex- girlfriend.
“Sorry about it. We recently broke up and it was not a good break up also” Karthik tried to explain as Sarah was trying to catch her breath.
“What you mean not a good break up??”
“Well I am not really sure if she knows it or not.”
“What the hell? You are such an ass!” 
“Well I try not to show off! In my defense she started to avoid me then I ignored her but she never really bothered”
“You doctors are so screwed up man!” She said with a laugh. That was her first laugh since she sat down in front of him 15 minutes ago.

After 4 months, their wedding reception..

“Hey your ex girl friend is here!” Sarah whispered in a worried tone while smiling at the 6 cameras aimed at them.
“Who? Diya? She is fine.”
“You made peace with her?”
“Well she was not really my girl friend, just a good friend.”
“What??? You lied to me??”
“You wanted an adventure, I gave you one! Oh yeah we have a tendency to make up stuff, got it from writing all those exams!”
“You ass!” She punched him in his ribs and laughed a lot louder than the first time she laughed with him. 

(Author's note: Coz we are fun too!!!)
Belated Christmas wishes everyone and hope all of you will have a really great new year up ahead!)

God's sense of humour!

Some of my close friends would know that I consider myself as linguistically challenged. At any given point of time I can learn/talk/understand no more than 2 languages.
Well yes as with most of the other stuff I put up  here this is also a mild exaggeration but it is very difficult for me to learn a new language so I accept it and stop trying to make a fool out of myself. More than any other language it is Hindi our official language which has a problem with me. I never could reason with the fact that inanimate objects have gender. Plus there are a lot more stuff in that language which has given me enough nightmares throughout the 6 years I studied it. (Yes! 6 years!!! Yet I cannot speak or understand Hindi properly! Now you all know why I don't like it!)  This particular trait of mine has made me the butt of many a jokes among my friend's group.
So this is just a background to the following incident which happened yesterday.
I was on my way to the railway station to go home with hardly any cash on me. As always I went to the nearby ATM, after entering the PIN the machine's touch screen was stuck on the language selection page. I touched English nothing happened. I touched Malayalam, again nothing happened, skipping the Hindi in the middle I came out and went to the only other ATM  in the locality. The other one was closed for repairs. I stood there at 1:30 pm not really knowing what to do to catch the train at 2:15 pm. Again I went back to first ATM hoping for a miracle to happen. When you are walking in the sun with two moderately large bags trust me you'll become a believer! Then man inside the ATM came out counting money. MIRACLE! I silently proclaimed while entering the small room. But again, the machine was stuck at the language selection. Was God playing a trick with me? Then I understood the grand joke! I touched the middle option - Hindi! It worked. Unbelievable! The ATM did not have a problem till the previous night. First time in my life I am seeing the ATM behaving like this. With familiarity I managed the first Hindi screen without reading but the second was tough. I had to try really hard to decipher those signs. I was sure the person waiting outside would think I was gonna steal money or something. But thankfully he didn't call the police.
Only when I was comfortably sitting in the train I realized the prank God played on me!
He sure does have a good sense of humour, even though many of his followers don't.
I am sure many of us have these kind of tiny incidents.
Do share them here.

Be a rebel. .

(Author's note: Violent theme ahead)

“Be a rebel” 
I told myself. Rebel would be the last word someone would associate with me. I was a good student, a good citizen.  Obedient. I gave my seat to old people. I never did something I would regret. As a child I was taught that being good counts. That is the only thing which counts. Like any other good child I kept it in my heart and went accordingly. Do good. Never disappoint others.
I looked up and saw the moon. It was full moon. That gave me the light to walk this far in the middle of the night. Somehow looking at the full moon calmed my nerves.
“Be a rebel" I told myself again.
Fight the inhibitions laid out on you by the society. Do what you want.
 I kept encouraging myself.
 My sister was better than me in all accounts. Even though she was 3 years younger to me I often looked up to her. She was a constant inspiration and motivation. Her messages would lighten me up during the bad days I had to endure. She was the epitome of goodness. The giver. Whatever she was doing, she always had time for others. To help others with kind words and deeds. She had a pleasant aura around her. She was an angel on earth. And now in heaven.

Brutally raped and killed.
The man who did it walked free. After a lot of courts, cases and what not, he was set free. Mental instability, as his advocate proved in the court. He was to be admitted in an asylum and not in a jail. But here he is, sleeping in the comfort of his room. That was a mistake he did.
Her throat was slit. When I saw her, she was lying on the ground with torn dress and her head at an unnatural angle with the body. The odour was unbearable; the dark nauseating odour of blood. It was all over the place. I had to walk on the blood to reach her; her blood. The same that flows through my veins. i screamed like never before. Not only then but many times after I saw her body. The image keeps coming back. I kept thinking what and all might have gone through her mind at those dreadful moments. How mistaken she was about the world and the people in it.

I am standing outside his room, the images of my sister running through my head.  Somehow her smiling pleasant face is not coming to my mind. It is always the unnaturally angled head. With the blood, the nauseating odour of blood.  My heart starts pumping the same blood in me, vigorously. I can feel my heart beat. Blood is rushing to my right hand, where I have a long knife.
I entered his room. I got a strong smell of alcohol mixed with cigarette smoke. The empty bottle on the table told me he is passed out. Perhaps the same alcohol might have led him to something like that to a fellow human being. His breathing was heavy. I looked at him.
How could he?
I asked this question to myself a thousand times but never got an answer. I am never gonna get that answer out of him. I don’t need an explanation. Explanations will not bring back my sister, neither does killing him. I know that but he shouldn't do it again. I am doing it for her.
She probably would have wanted me to forgive him and move on for an angel she is but I am not. I am mere human who gives in to his emotions. A brother, who wants to make sure that no brother would have to feel the same as I felt. A son, who wants to make sure no parent would have to go through what our parents went through.
I raised the knife, closed my eyes and slit his throat. He did not make a sound but his eyes were wide open when I opened mine. The dark nauseating smell of blood filled the place. The same odour.
The same blood runs through our veins beneath our skin, we choose to ignore that basic fact and act differently.
I came out of the room leaving him in his pool of blood, like how he left my sister.

At the Crossroads

John stood at the crossroad. The junction.

 He looked at the sign board. From the distance it looked so perfect but only when he got closer he realized the arrows are more like the wheel of fortune. Just one nail holding it to the post and it turns at even the smallest of the breeze.

He had walked out of his home half an hour ago. He was so sure of his journey and the path to be taken when he stepped out. He left his family and came out. He left his neighbour Sarah whom he had a crush. She was willing to come with him but he had to take this journey alone. He carried nothing but his father’s advices. He did not bother with the goodbyes. He was never good at them anyways. With an empty promise that he’ll come back soon he had walked out. He knew he was not going to return for a long time. He knew he had to cut down each of those strings that attach him to the home as he go further.

He stared at the sign post again. He decided to give the wheel a chance and turned it fast.

“Let fate decided which way I should go” he thought.

 He stood there looking at the rotating arrows. Then he changed his mind and started walking on a road. To the unknown future, while the arrows were still turning around that single nail.

Walking under the Umbrella

“Oh god, please take care of her. She is weak and badly hurt. I know I was the sole reason for what happened to her but lord you know how it happened. I loved her very much but I really couldn’t do anything else. I hope she understands it one day. I know it in my heart that she is gonna get someone better in life. Please don’t make her life even more miserable than what she is going through now. She does not deserve it. At times all I wanted to do is to just go back to her, give a big smile and tell her how much I missed her for the last two months. It hurts me to act indifferent to her. All I hope is someday we can just sit together and laugh about the whole thing.”

“Dear Lord why is this happening to me? I know no relation is perfect but instead of sitting down and talking why did he have to leave me like that? I loved him with all my heart and this is what happens to me. Please make him stop acting so indifferent to me. I know deep within me he did the right thing but I cannot accept it. He said everything will be ok and it will take time and all. But it has been two months and I still miss him. I miss the good times we had. Again the fact that we wont have anything like that any more is hurting me. I know it is too much to ask but god can you help get over this? This is the worst time of my life. I don’t want to think about it anymore. I want to get angry at him but I can’t. Let him have a good life Lord.”

They met outside the church. Both of them looked at the dark monsoon clouds covering the sky. They did not look at each other. The crisp Sunday morning sun was covered with clouds and everything suddenly seemed very gloomy.
“It looks like rain.” John said after an awkward silence.
“I don’t have an umbrella” Anna replied.
John looked at his long umbrella and sighed. Walking under the umbrella with Anna was always special.
It started pouring.
John kept looking at the umbrella and the rain tempted to offer Anna a walk to the bus stop. He really did miss such walks.
With a sudden movement he walked into the rain saying “Good bye Anna”. He waited a moment to open the umbrella and walked.
Tears formed in her eyes. They welled up refusing to fall down, partially obscuring the vision of John walking away in the rain.

“Awesome rain is it not?”
Karthik came and stood next to Anna.
“Not when you don’t have an umbrella”
“Come with me then. The car is there.”
He opened his umbrella and started to the car. Anna hesitated for a moment and went with him.

“I always like walking in the rain, so no one can see me crying.” The famous line said by Charlie Chaplin kept repeating in John’s mind. He understood what Chaplin meant. He dropped his umbrella to let the rain mask his tears.

Freedom from what?

Independence day. 

The day we change our profile pictures to our national flag. The day we put up and share patriotic messages.The day we should  remember how our forefather fought against the oppressive foreign rule and got us freedom! Freedom from what? 

JULY 2012

GUWAHATI

A girl  was molested and stripped by a mob of 20 or more young men. A TV reporter who filmed the incident allegedly instigated this to get a breaking news. The men who did this brutal deed looked into the camera with pride. They made sure the girl's face came in the camera. When you see that one would wonder if they actually spent 9 months inside the womb of a woman. 

What mistake did the girl do to be treated like this?  Is it crime to go to a pub? Is it a crime to wear what you  like to wear? The girl thought she had the freedom to do so. To do anything within the law. So from what did our forefathers get freedom from? Surely not from the girl-molesting-stripping perverts in the video above.

More than the video going viral in the  country, the girl had her name told to the media. I still don't understand why when something like this comes up the 'leaders' blame it on the victims. The majority, thankfully consist of people with good morals and fortunately not fools also. Rather than supporting a bunch of thugs they should support the rights of each citizen.

ASSAM

Ethnic violence which lead to the death of 72 people and a huge number of the population getting dispalced. The clash between the Bodos and the Muslims has been there for a long time but never before has it escalated to this extent. The elected leaders and police were unable to contain the violence. The state blames the Centre and vice versa. Nobody is really bothered about the people. They keep blaming each other till another issue comes into the picture. 

(Taken from hindustantimes.com)

The rally held in Mumbai to show support to the Muslims in Assam riots in itself became a riot. What are they trying to prove? Why didn't anyone oppose the violence as a whole? The root cause is simple. You see the other person based on his/her religion, caste, creed, culture or region. You don't see them as human beings. You don't see them as Indians.  As many have pointed out patriotism is not something you show only for sports and war. It is accepting every single citizen of the country as Indians and not putting a brand of religion or region on them and segregating them. The great leaders got us freedom from the British but they did not free us from the narrow minds we have.

Padil, 

Mangalore

A bunch of young people were having a birthday celebration and none of them would thought they would make it to the cover pages of the national dailies the next day. 

Moral Policing it seems. Does anywhere in the Indian culture they say to beat up girls? Slapping girls is considered morally right but celebrating birthday is not? What they did was not acceptable they told. Acceptable to whom? A bunch of goons? Or the commission who blamed the girls?

I need not go on about the moral policing and how frustrated the young generation is. I live in Mangalore and it has a united young population who think beyond the borders. The culture less brigade is trying to break that unity I think. Someone else also did the same if I remember correctly. The British left and we got freedom from the foreign oppressors but what about the Desi oppressors? 

All these 3 incidents in the month of July.  More has happened. A lot more would have gone unreported. Untold stories of sufferings in the free republic and democratic India.

As we celebrate the 66th Independence day our freedom is hailed. But from what?

Every country has its problems but how we react to it makes all the difference. We can be indifferent or we can speak against it. Saying it is correct according to our ancient culture should be left to live in ancient times. 

We have the highest young population in the world and anything they do is against culture? I hope people accept everyone as they as they are and not force ideologies on them. A few people cannot break a nation but the indifference of the majority can do that.

 

When I see all the 'patriotic', 'proud to be an Indian' status updates I am happy. The acts of a few haven't dampened the spirits of the many. 

Happy Independence day. As always I am proud to be an Indian.

(A post I put 2 years back 'In which I am patriotic')

Petrol the liquid gold!

Petrol literally on its way to become liquid gold!

The petrol price hike has hit the common man very badly!  That’s how the media puts it at least.  Personally I am not much affected by this hike. Does that mean I am not a common man? Am I above the rest? Or below? The reasons for me not getting affected are simple. Firstly I don’t own a car, secondly and more importantly when I shamelessly ask for a lift I make sure it is a diesel car (in case the owner asks me a share. Surely I will do that!)

 So what to do about the hike?? If you ask the opposition parties in Kerala, they would say call a Hartal and get over with it. That’s one thing I miss about Kerala. The frequent Hartals for no apparent reasons. So  Malayalees get a day off. Common man is not at all affected by it. In fact they enjoy to the extent that they call up each other and wish ‘Happy Hartal’. I am pretty sure the mobile operators will start considering  Hartal to be a public holiday and start charging sms. Common man shouldn’t have the luxury of free sms during Hartals, it totally ruins the purpose.

So coming back to the original question, what can be done about the price hike? There were umpteen suggestions from overnight experts in petrol and oil industry! Petrol was trending in twitter for that one night. The next day’s newspaper also had so many suggestions. One suggestion, actually the only one which caught my attention was given by the petrol dealers association. According to them, if the officials in the oil companies cut down their salary, increments, bribes and all, it is possible to sell liter of petrol at Rs.16 apparently. Well 16 might be an exaggeration but 20 per liter would be a good bargain. Not that I am against 16 per liter, but these officers are used to taking bribe and all for a long so why putting a hole in their pocket.

But that suggestion being the ideal one is also hypothetical. Even Anna Hazare I feel is fed up of the system and has given up his struggle against corruption. I think the whole of petrol car owners will stand with him if he starts an agitation against the petrol hike! Seriously there is nothing more motivating than cheap petrol.

 Fight against corruption is a really tasty desert item. You appreciate it, you write pages about it and you can have it once in a while but not more than that. Seriously how many people can eat really sweet stuff for a long time? But we all love it , we keep on talking how good it is.

One suggestion to the problem is to declare bullock cart as the national vehicle. Give subsidies to the companies which make them. Government should promote bullock cart manufacturing units. I would say give three or four such units to West Bengal but then again our Didi is against vehicle factories if I am not mistaken.  She’ll probably say Marx had once owned a bullock cart so its Marxist and hence should be banned from Bengal.

You shouldn’t start it in Kerala because by the time the factories actually start working, the grass for the bullocks would be cost like petrol. Then they’ll have Hartals for the rights of the bullocks as well. A bullocks union is also likely to happen.

The other suggestion is to go for bicycles. Good option but not practical. We are the laziest of the whole lot! Cycling is physical exertion. A big NO to that. I can say that for myself and I am sure the majority is with me. If you have any doubt just check the statistics of Diabetes and Hypertension.

So what now? I’ll give you the most simple, easy, practical and viable solution to this.

IMPORT CHINESE PETROL!

I am sure that will be cheaper!

Have a great weekend!  

The Dark Side

I stand in the rain, hoping it will absolve me the sins I committed. Each drop hits me like a knife stabbing my heart. The tomb of Sara is right in front of me; I searched a lot in the graveyard to find this one. I never attended her funeral. I had to go away after I killed her. Everyone was looking for me.
They say you should never go to a graveyard in the night. I never understood that. It’s not the dead but the living that you should be afraid of. I feel the shadows are getting longer. If I stay any longer they might take me in.

The past - His version
It all began when I met this beautiful girl named Sara. She was everything a man could ask for. She was smart, caring and loving, unlike Amberville.  Amberville was cruel, violent and deceitful. People are said to be happy if they go to hell because there’s nothing in hell which is not there in Amberville. Good men were a myth here. From the local newspaper boy to the corporate, each one of them owed their allegiance to the mafia here. You simply could not live without them. Being an architect, I was on the safer side. I didn’t have to deal with them personally.  I always wondered how Sarah became how she was, in spite of being in Amberville for so long. Later only I realized who she actually was.  How did I meet her? 

My office was a dull one in a rather depressing corner of the town. It was in the first floor and I first saw her while she was crossing the road.   I had noticed her looking at my board. Such a beauty in Amberville was rare to find. After a  few minutes I heard a knock on the door.  My assistant opened the door and let her in. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say she literally brought radiance along with her. The beauty of her face brightened up the whole room.  She wanted me to design her house.  I agreed, even though I did not show out my emotions I was sure she understood what I had in my mind. 

She said yes when I asked her out for a dinner. Many dinners followed. Soon the house  became our house. We started making plans for the future. The city seemed less violent now. The construction progressed at a steady pace. As it was in the outskirts of the city, nobody was there to interfere. At times she used to appear really weak and she told it was because of her anemia. 

After a year or so I noticed something has changed. She was distracted and seemed to spend a lot of time with her other friends. I had met them once or twice but never really got along with them.
That day was just like any other afternoon : dull and monotonous. The summer heat was getting on. Air conditioning had stopped working two days back. I opened the window and was looking outside, sipping a cold beer. There was nothing better than a cold bottle of beer to cool you down in the hot summer afternoon. As I was looking outside I saw her friend walking on the other side of the road. She was going to the beauty salon. Rage grew in me. I finished the beer and went down for a real drink. I decided not to ask her anything but keep an eye on her. The next day she started early saying she was going with her friends to a show in the city. After she left I followed her in a cab. She did not go to any show, but she went to the Doctor’s place. Doctor was a big shot in the underworld. He got his name from doing surgeries on his victims before killing them. He also had the largest collection of poisons and biological weapons. Doctor lived in a small house with no guards or anything. As Sara entered the house, I went around to see if there is any window or something from where I could see what was going on. I found a place and I looked in. The sight was nauseating. Sara was dancing for the Doctor. The seductive dance went on for some time and by the time she finished the dance there was hardly anything left to the imagination. Then she went to him and the most unthinkable act happened. My knees gave up, I fell down and vomited. I have been in Amberville but never had to witness something like this. The slut was cheating on me and she very well knew I couldn’t do anything to the Doctor. But to her,  I could, my inner voice said.

I thought of confronting her but the alcohol awakened the demon inside me. Everyone had a dark side and my dark side wanted me to take a knife and stab her. Sanity and logical thinking was disappearing fast as I kept on drinking. All the violence I saw, all the stories I heard and that single sight I saw at the Doctor’s residence drove me to insanity. I decided to make her pay for what she did to me. She was the light of my life. She had brightened up my days… or so I had thought. The dark clouds of Amberville were back.  

I put on a mask. I waited for her near the road that turned to her apartments.  Once she passed me, I went after her. I hit her head with the blunt end of the knife and she fell down. I stabbed her then, first on the stomach, then her legs and arms. I did not touch any of the vital parts because I wanted her to live. Live and suffer. I was sure her cries would bring out the neighbors, they would call the ambulance.
Sara was in the hospital for 2 months. The Doctor had sent her flowers once in a week. I stood by her side but I could not be who I was. In her sufferings I doubt if she noticed it. Once she became alright she again started visiting that scoundrel. I became more and more addicted to the drinks. I kept on stabbing her. The same mask, the same knife, the same girl but different places. Each time she lived. But each time her health deteriorated. The demon inside had already taken control of me.  I got into a bar brawl and stabbed the other guy sending him to the hospital. My visit to Sara has reduced and visits to the Jimmy’s the bar increased. 


One day I went to meet her after a long time and there was a car parked outside her apartments. I did not enter her room through the front but went through the fire escape route and entered her kitchen. I could hear noises from the other room. I went silently and saw the frail body of Sara on top of him. Sara was just bones. He was least bothered about her health, only concerned about his pleasure. Sara was straining hard. I could not take it anymore. The rage rose in me like a fire, consuming me. I went back to the kitchen, found a long knife and waited. The sounds I was hearing made me go mad. After what seemed to be like a long wait he left. I went to the room and Sara was sleeping. I shook her violently. She opened her eyes to see me with a knife. Before she could say anything I pushed the knife through her ribcage into her heart. Thick red blood started flowing. She tried saying something but I took out the knife and stabbed her again. The sight of blood I thought would nauseate me actually gave me satisfaction. The wild pleasure of having the power of life and death was indeed addictive.

I left Amberville that night. I felt satisfied by ending an immoral girl’s life. That was just a start. I indulged in my new found passion for blood ever since. I started keeping principles, doing only righteous kills. I killed only bad guys. But soon I realized one man’s devil might be another’s angel. So the lines of righteousness got blurred by the stacks of money I was getting. I realized you cannot give justification for a crime.  

The easy way was to accept yourself to be a bad man and do the crime rather than covering it with some ideology. After three years of several hits I returned to Amberville for a job.  My target was a middle aged man. I had to make it look like a hit and run. Once the job was done, I returned back to my old unfinished house. It had a ghostly look to it now. Uninhibited for three years. The garden she used to walk through had literally become a forest now. The keys were still under the flower pot next to the door, I wonder why nobody took them till now.  

As I entered the house a flood of memories hit me. Memories I dared not to think of in the last 3 years. There were papers and covers lying around the door. People must have pushed them under the door. I have to wait here to meet my client to get the payment.  I made my way through the cobwebs to the first floor to sleep for a while. But then the bed is spoiled, couldn’t use. So I came down again walked around the place thinking to renovate the house, now that I have money I can remodel this house to be my summer retreat or something like that. I kicked some of the papers that were lying around and I saw Sara’s photo in one of them. It must be her obituary or something but she was not famous or anything to have photo in the front page. I took that paper and the headlines read “Sara : girl who killed the Doctor”


The past : Her version

Amberville has always been a cruel step mother to me. She took away my parents when I was a child, the only brother I had got involved in drugs early in his life.  Anytime he got involved in something I was taken as collateral. When I was fifteen or sixteen years older my brother got involved in something really nasty and I was held as a prisoner. He had to pay a large amount to the main drug dealers because he screwed up badly. They asked him to come meet them in person with the money if he wants to see me again. When he showed up with the money, they took him to get more information out of him. He refused. They put a syringe into my arm and asked again. He said no again. He was not in his senses, he was high on the drugs and they injected that disease into me. The doctor was known for keeping diseases in a bottle, incurable diseases which kill you slowly and painfully. 

I left from there not thinking about the injection or the disease I got, but about the brother who cares more about his dirty little secret than his little sister. I left Amberville that night, not knowing where to go. All I wanted is to go as far as possible from that place. I never recalled that injection of that fateful night, until I went to a doctor years later for constant tiredness. He had infected me with HIV. And that virus has started to be active. There is no cure. No way I could save myself. My brother died. According to his friends he died a hero’s death trying to save a box of cocaine. I went back to Amberville. The city surprised me on levels which I never knew existed.  The Doctor was running the show now. I decided to take revenge on him. But a girl like me could never take on such a person. Unless I appealed to his well known lust. I changed my name and looks and went into the game. I frequented night clubs and pubs. I still did not have a proper place to live so I decided to build a house at the small plot I have. It was then I met Sam.

Sam turned my life upside down. He was refreshingly different from the rest of Amberville. His eyes talk of love, something hard to find in here. I was torn between my desire for revenge and the hope for a wonderful life with him. The emotional struggle was hard to take. I had spent days plotting how to reach the Doctor and now I spent days with him.  I started feeling the tiredness again. Then the hard truth hit me. I had few days to live. I could never be happy with him and he could never know what had happened to me. So I made the hard decision to let go of him for the better good. I pursued after the Doctor.
He gave in to his lust and consumed on his pleasures.  I got stabbed and got admitted to the hospital. Probably some of the Doctor’s enemies. Sam started keeping a distance. I was depressed by that but happy that he won’t go down with me. I kept going back to the Doctor. I was just another whore for him. Someone to use and throw. I kept going back just to make sure he got the taste of his medicine. I got stabbed again and my health started deteriorating really fast. I wanted to be with Sam, but he was nowhere to be seen. But the Doctor showed up, without considering my health he sought pleasure. I lost interest in living, I lay there like a corpse. After doctor left I heard some noise. Sam was before my eyes. I thought it was a dream. Before I could utter a word a long knife in his hand pierced my heart. I could feel the warm blood flowing out. Death, the long lost friend finally came for me in the form of my love. I am feeling cold.

The tombstone is cold. I never felt any pain in doing what I did until now. All the lives I have taken, all families I have destroyed, all those pain. I kneel in front of the tomb. I don’t know what to say. The rain is still hitting me like a thousand knives hitting me. The shadows growing longer. i heard some sound behind me. Before turning only it hit me in the head. I never felt the pain.


The silencer attached suppressed the sound. John stood there for some time to confirm the hit and then he left.


(Murders at the hospital is another story from Amberville)
(The city of Amberville is created by Roshan Radhakrishnan in his blog Godyears.)