Aaj zindagi ne farmaya hain, Kyon na kuch alag kiya jaye,

Roz subah ki chai to mithi hoti he hain,

Aaj kuch mithas is din mein laya jayein…

Samay ki ghadi toh chalti rahegi,

Kyon na aaj zindagi jeene ka naya matlab dhundha jayein...

Log kya kahenge  - Log kya sochenge yeh toh fizool ki baatien hain,

Kyon na aaj hum kya karenge ismein jyada gaur kiya jayein…

Khud ko badalte toh humne dekh hi liya,

Fir kyon log badal gaye kehke baat bigada jayein…

Kyon na khud jee le aur dusron ko bhi jene diya jayein…

Zindagi ko lafzo mein samajhana bada mushkil hain,

Kyon na khud samajh jayien aur dusron ko bhi samajhne diya jayein..

Paribhasha sabki alag hogi, ismein hume kya karna..

Kyon na hum apne paribhasha mein jeena sikh jayein..

Asan nahi zindagi has ke guzarna…  yeh kisne kaha?

Kisi kitaab mein likha toh nahi,

Kyon na zindagi ko hi ek haseen kitaab banaya jayein..

Kyon na aaj udhte parindo ki tarah hum bhi khulke jeena sikh jayein..

Kuch baatien toh ankhein nam kar deti hain,

Kyon na aaj aane wale haseen lamho ko bandh pardon mein sajaya jayein..

AREH AAJ ZINDAGI NE FARMAYA, KYON NA KUCH ALAG KIYA JAYEIN.. 

Silver Ticks

I looked back last night...

Turning over pages of lines and time,
Hoping to find meaning…

I looked back last night...
Studied things as they were,
Caressing moments with a smile…

I looked back last night...
Seeped myself under a blanket,
And tore down the pages…

I looked back last night...
Dragged the kid by the collar,
And kept punching him cold
Till he lay down wasted; dead…

Life and Times of Rajkumar Hoshiyar

With a swagger and a toothpick stuck deep inside his 27th tooth, Rajkumar Hoshiyar walked out of his bedroom. Nobody these days wore sunglasses to their bed. Rajkumar didn’t care about nobodies. He lived on his own accord. He feared no one these days. He was one of the richest men in his workplace and perhaps was the richest in the neighborhood.

He took a hot shower and applied a feminine moisturizing cream generously. A bright purple shirt and a sober orange trouser graced his skeletal frame. He then applied a loud green hair gel and organized his shoulder length tresses. Sipping up his lemon tea, Rajkumar introspected and planned. Fiddling with his recent memories of fortune, Rajkumar tried chalking out his business plan for today. Then realised he didn’t need any business plans. He never did. He smiled and looked up at the sky and closed his eyes to feel the incoming heat of the sun. Then opened them and looked back at the sun with gentle arrogance.

He drifted to normalcy, back from his trance. Did some hurried neck exercises and walked out of his palatial residence into the common street. His workplace was nearby and he didn’t need a vehicle for conveyance, yet.

He walked to his work camp with piercing envious looks following him.  His peers were clearly mad seeing him all so smug. They were mad at the thought that they screamed crazy for accumulating wealth whereas Hoshiyar just spoke twice and money came gently flowing. They made little income compared to the accumulation of Hoshiyar. But life moves on, they thought. Someday they will have their day. And they hated the fact that they had to compare themselves with dogs in an old proverb to justify the fact.

Rajkumar Hoshiyar was oblivious to the jealousy and greed of his peers because he thought he was well above all of them and their company made no difference to him. The time for business was now. That’s all he cared for.

With another one of his neck exercises, he was ready to announce his presence to the market. He licked and added some saliva to his lips. And said ‘Pyaaz le lo, Assi rupaay kilo’.

               

And he only spoke twice. 

Sentient Fools

His hands brushed up against her arms, unintentionally. Both felt a twinge of current run down their spines. The girl blushed and went a shade of deep maroon. The boy shuffled awkward for something nothing in his backpack and idled away his time.

He did not go awkward, ever, when he came in contact with a girl. But something about her was different; radically different. He knew it, he just knew it. The girl in her rusty brown attire didn’t panic, ever, when something like this happened. If she scented a pervert, she went out of her way to let her mind out like the Persians did it in Thermopylae. But she sensed something different in him, like a mist which she tried to grasp. His purple full sleeves and unkempt hair didn’t help her knees either.

The bus was slightly cramped but the stranger by her side made it more comfortable than she have had the chance to be in quite some time. The boy fiddled with his ear phones, pretending he wanted to listen to his playlist. He tried fighting within to think of something to speak out. But nothing came up. The girl tried ruffling her hair nervously and looked at him, in abrupt patches, with a sly innocent glitter. It was fun the way he fought with himself, she thought.

He was fiddling with his bottle and had a hurried sip. He knew that this was different. He had to speak up. He murmured and practiced modulating his voice to the proper tone. He didn’t want to sound retarded.

“Time?” He asked, pointing to her wrist. She smiled a big smile and showed him her wrists. There weren’t any watches, there. He felt stupid instantly. And his entire male ego knee jerked his thoughts to a halt. She took out her cell phone and informed him about the time. Seeing his own cell phone in his hand, he felt contempt for his brains even more. They usually worked fine, he thought. He thanked her, half-heartedly, and decided he would do nothing more to make a fool out of himself.

She tried looking but he was cribbing with himself, staring out the window. In his fit of foolishness, he took out his ear phones and started listening to a random Indie. The girl went nervous and tried bringing him to attention, but he went duck face for a change and stared out at the smoky messy wilderness. The bus screeched to a halt at a stop and the girl became annoyed.

She stood up gathering her haversack, to alight to the one next. The boy had a jolt out of the blue. Damn me, he thought. He hurriedly packed his earphone and tried looking at her, staring blankly. He wanted her number. He wanted something. He never did this before but he knew he had all the courage to do it now. The girl saw him with her peripherals and relished his anxiety. She was waiting to see what he did. Her stop came and she maintained her vision and kept track of his timid maneuvers. She was almost at the door to alight and turned around to look at him in the eye.

It was a moment just three seconds before the boy actually stood up. In those three seconds, the girl already alighted the bus. She didn’t look back after that. The boy did stand up and went out of his seat to go to the window to check for that last sign of acknowledgement. He would jump off the bus, if that was required. But she didnt turn.

The girl blushed to herself and smiled and walked with long steps. Her smile broke into bigger strokes. She pictured herself in a movie where the wind and the sun did their best to make her look like a female protagonist smitten by change. Light and air swarmed her and graced her, she thought. She thought out loud and pacified herself. We are meant to be together so we will meet again, she told herself smiling.

They never did.

P.S: Alternate Ending minus the last line.

Firebird

The earth crackled as she ran in unholy sprints and so did the leaves. Autumn was here and the leaves had broken down from their chains. She disappeared again from my sight. I was again close; very close.

It has been 2 years since I have been chasing her. And I have run out of patience now. I want it ended swiftly. But she has managed to outsmart me; every time. I am the hunter and she was the one that would be hunted. The mountains didn’t help me much. It would have been much easier if we were on the plains. But I have no choice here; I have to find a way.

I am Evan, 12 years old, and this is my world. I have been living this world for the last 2 years and hunting her down is my mission; my salvation. I have not yet met another living soul. I am all alone facing my nemesis. Pangs of longing and depression have hit me every now and then. But I have been strong. I crave for my freedom.

My nemesis is the Firebird; the only other moving being here. She is painted with shades of red. She resembled a peacock. She is as majestic as the dragon; as magnanimous as the lion. Her fiery red wings glitter like brittle glass. She has a golden crown perched on her head. Her beak is silver, her eyes blue. She never made a sound. She is the devil of these lands. And my freedom shall only be attained after I stab her heart.

I have my weapons; a sword and an arrow. And these shall be enough. I only need one chance and I shall succeed. Many people have tried hunting the firebird. Some have succeeded in months, some years. Some never have. The essence of this world taught me these. I had no guardian, no shining angels or voices. The essence of this world-of-no-return instilled its learning and assigned me, my one sole task.

Kill the firebird…stab the heart…

I sneaked into a small crevice and adjusted myself. The firebird had stopped near a water stream. She was about a few hundred meters from my sight; if only I had a bow. She didn’t have any powers apart from her surreal beauty and her unnatural sprint speed. I only needed to trap her in a closed space and then I might have a chance.

I slid slowly in the stream as I watched her go near the bank, opposite to the crevice I was in. I swam cautiously through the blue waters and approached the bank. When I felt land, I rose cautiously above the water and saw her standing atop the edge. She was staring the distant water fall. A calm demeanour shone on her face and I felt instant love for her. I didn’t have a reason to hurt this harmless being.

Climbing the bank in one swift motion, I jumped as I made way and swung my sword towards her in one swift deadly arc. She reacted quickly but I was effective this time. I cut her deep on her right side and now she bled silvery blood. She backed off a little as blood spurted in steady amounts. This impact swerved my sword off my hands and it fell into the stream.

She faced me. I expected wrath and anger. But her face has never been calmer. She opened up her wings in one majestic movement. I dropped down to my knees in reverence and folded my arms in a prayer.

She was standing on her two legs and her radiant red wings radiated warmth and care that I have craved for, all this time. It was like a homely light of affection. I cried.

Do it child…

I suddenly heard her. She wasn’t speaking through her lips but it was something else altogether. She was inside my head.

Do it child…Do it before people interfere with our matters…I tried my best to bring you the greater freedom of life…But my missions have failed me…You deserve the other freedom, in peace…

I wept, as things suddenly made sense and as I felt a rush of blood to the head. I nodded.

I went near her and removed the arrow from my pocket. She cajoled me with her wings. I steadied my arms and held the arrow with both arms. I raised it above my head and positioned it to stab her.

Freedom was one stroke away…

The room 402 of the Green Field Hospital was buzzing with activity. The only child of the residential Doctor couple passed away this morning. The boy fell from their apartment’s terrace 2 years back and has been in a coma since. The state was vegetative from the very start and his vital organs never truly responded back.

There was a legal tussle ongoing for a mercy on his pain. And only yesterday did the jury rule in the favour of a clean death with a consensus made on its implementation being the following week.

Evan won.

Scare Diaries 1.1: The Night Out

A Cosmopolitan poster lay in front of us, as we gawked at the blonde model with wide eyes. She had a snake around her and she winked at us through the gloss. We winked back.

I was 14 then. And my cousin brother, of a year younger, had come to my home for the weekends. It was a routine thing back then. Sometimes I went to his place. Sometimes he did the same. On this occasion, he was there after a period of two months. My family shifted into a new house, leaving our old home after years. The old home had tons of memories attached to it. The newer one was working on making them.

The flat was basically a 2 BHK home, part of a new apartment that was in a secluded part of the area, with the hall in the middle and the bedrooms split on either side. My own room was my new den and I and my brother were using the seclusion to the fullest.

He brought an old cosmopolitan from one of his friends and that was quite something. We skimmed pages after pages in awe and amazement; puberty doing its part.

After we were done browsing, we went on to play an hour of Super Contra and Tennis. After noises of my mom from the bedroom reached our ears, we switched off the console in a rushed hurry and jumped to our beds. The lights switched got switched off dramatically. It was 1 am.

But being what we were, we didn’t sleep. We broke off into a jig of shallow discussions which consisted of only girls and a comic book thrown in between every now and then. It was safe to say that we reached an all-time low that day. We learned new things about the forbidden part of the human lives in extensive details.

We were on with it in with our hushed tones discussing in great lengths the details of the human anatomy. And just abruptly, my brother stopped and went wide eyed of a different kind. In the very next moment I did too.

From the hall outside, we heard sniffs; an act of crying; restrained. More particularly, it was a woman’s cry. And she did not stop the sorrowful expression of grief. Our neck hair went into absurd angles. It was not a loud wail and that was the worst part. It was a controlled bursting of tears.

We grew even stiffer, as we heard the woman pacing slowly up and down the hall. They were proper soft footsteps and while she paced, she continued the gloomy sobbing. The world seemed distraught as her sniffs drowned us in confusion.

My brother elbowed me and spoke in furious whispers.

"Bro! Kakima! She woke up and she heard everything!”

I looked at him in disdain. I knew my Mom. If she heard what we were speaking about, she wouldn’t take a stroll and cry out. She would come inside the room, switch on the lights and furiousity would follow in ample amounts.

I gulped stupidly.

"We should go and check." I suggested.

"I am not going to face her. My image has been tarnished for life in front of her."

Little punk. I had to live there forever, he skipped that part.

I looked at him with all the anger I could muster and went outside, cautiously placing my feet so as to make no sound. He cheered me on, grinning even.

I went outside into the hall. Apart from the things that are always there, there was no one and nothing else. The chair seemed settled on its own and the curtains waved themselves gracefully. A shot of current ran up my spine and the body went into chills. I tried to calm myself down, but a steady gush of sweat was drowning me in. I hurriedly walked towards my parent’s room to check on them.

They were sleeping like no swallow broke a sound. I went nearer to check on my mom specifically and peace never had a better description. I looked around the room and braced myself for incoming attacks and rushed to my room and locked it from the inside.

When I went inside all I saw was a cousin fast asleep like a sloth. In those few seconds that I was outside, my cousin collapsed into a deep sleep like I have never seen him do before. I tried waking him up but he stayed put. In despair and with sweats of a pig, I crept under a thick blanket to protect me from the evils outside, curling my legs to protect it from being caught from any arm that might come up from the insides of my bed.

It took me hours or maybe minutes to sleep but then I did fall asleep and the next day was behavior as usual. I asked my brother the reason why he left me stranded. He was nonchalant and said he was sleepy. When I discussed animatedly regarding the sniffs, he acted like nothing happened. The story got lost and I was the only keeper.

Times have moved on and we have changed the place and the memories of my cousin have been wiped off completely, sadly. The subtle terror of that night just didn’t tick him. Or perhaps the ghost of that woman took shelter in my brother's body and is playing tricks since then. Let’s just pretend, the last line was not read.

The Mute

Part 1]

An analog radio was being attended by a small boy of 10. It screeched decibels of unspectacular, unwanted sound. The boy looked frail, forlorn in his unblemished attire. He occupied a miniscule territory of a vast, arid ground that had a sparse blur of moving children in the horizon. The playground was a decent carpet of dry grass and the sun turned things into a shade of intense orange. The boy had a faint smile on while he treated the device.

A group of four kids entered into the frame and kicked and broke his radio. They took the boy by his collar and punched him on his stomach. He fell down hard and a round of kicks on the surface area of his body, followed suit. Blood oozed from his mouth as he watched the gang walking back into the blur screaming happily for successfully ensuring their violent victory.

He stared blank.

The boy was now an adult. He was reading lines from a piece of paper, as he stood 22 yards behind the girl he fancied. He planned out his throw and made sure the jokes would get the proper punch they deserve. He hoped the girl would appreciate his efforts because he knew for certain that he loved her.

A group of four boys entered into the frame and tore his words of love. They took the boy by his collar and punched him on his stomach. He fell down hard and a round of kicks on the surface area of his body, followed suit. Blood oozed from his mouth as he watched the gang walking back into the blur screaming happily for successfully ensuring their violent victory.

The girl laughed harder.

He stared blank.

The boy was now a working individual. He looked at the picture of his prospective bride. She looked threateningly through the gloss. His parents hooked him up to this piece of uncertainty. He stared the wall anticipating his forthcoming life.

A group of four men entered into the frame and placed a huge stack of files on his table. They went on to brag about his commitment levels and told him to work more. They also told him about his extended shift to increase the performance of the firm. They went away jolly in a tempo of relief at this ensuing victory of delegation.

He stared blank.

The man had a beard now. He looked down on the sink and then to his hands. He held the knife closely now. The knife dripped blood. He washed the knife with a pleasant calm.

He laughed and started singing a Kishore Kumar classic.

Part 2]

He gazed at his loaf of bread with utmost sincerity. He applied a fine layer of mixed fruit jam over the butter that was spread out before. Savoring this activity, he went on to make five such loaves each intricately prepared. He relished the warmth of the morning light in his drawing room and basked in the happiness of a temporary fulfillment. A bizarre sounding alarm clock rang nuts into the proceedings. He let out a sigh as he closed his eyes.

A white hill…A purple chariot…A radiant white horse driving it…As he commanded it…Peace…

“You useless buffoon! Go to work. Stop wasting time!”

His wife stormed into the drawing room, the air waves carrying abuses around her. He gazed at her as a cow gazes the land after it is done eating. A flurry of vulgar Hindi abuses continued. His first impression of her was spot on, he thought. All these years she treated him like dirt and he could do nothing about it. He wondered if he should have spoken against her when his parents were match making. He could have spoken then and not have been so mute. Then his life flashed in front of him and he shrugged it off, repenting.

He went inside took his briefcase and a haversack. His missus gave him a list periodically and he purchased whatsoever it told him to. He came out of his bedroom and his wife slapped him hard across his face.

“You moron! That 2 kg wheat you brought last night. We never eat that. Why the hell did you not bring the one we have been consuming for a hundred years now?”

He wanted to answer but went shrugging off. Her wife could have been an amusing mosquito. He didn’t care. As he was leaving he saw his antique knife in a stand on the table. He smiled at it, almost acknowledging it. And then, he went back to his furrowed brow.

He walked down the stairs. He could have opted for the elevator, but he never used one. He walked below to his apartment’s compound and found a horde of the residents taking on the security man. He looked closely, they were all women. He went near the crowd to look into the argument.

The harried security guy found new found confidence when he saw him. He momentarily went out of line and approached him with utmost contempt.

“Mind your own business, loser”. He spitted out.

He remained grim and walked past the crowd without replying back and looked satisfied when he heard a familiar word among the yells. He walked his way to his motorcycle and gave it a kick start. It fizzled out annoyingly.

At the garage, nothing much happened. Only the guys teased him about his lack of knowledge of things pertaining to his bike and a mandatory ‘loser’ followed him in his stride back to work.

The office was as – usual. People came. He worked. And everything was like it was every day. Only he was slapped by a woman. She alleged that he tried to make advances towards him. A slight murmur persisted and by the end of the lunch period, all was sorted. The woman laughed back her way. Everyone else looked pleased as they went back.

He stared blank.

Working hours ended for the day. He alighted two hours later.

On his way, he shopped according to the list. He could not find the salt brand his wife mentioned. He didn’t know what to do. So he didn’t bring any. He stopped at three more places before he walked back to his house.

The security guard walked to his post as he entered the building. The security man looked at him in disdain as he entered. The guard could have got more time if he came a little late, he thought.

As he entered, seeing his wife, he thought the same. The wife welcomed him with a cold smile with her attire, disheveled. The antique knife shone to his face, weirdly being reflected at suitable angles to get his attention. He walked past it. He went to have a shower and succumbed to his thoughts.

A green sky…Three flying purple reindeers drawing a sledge…He was dressed in red…Comfort…

He was rudely interrupted by his wife banging the door. The missing salt was the culprit this time.

The abuse continued during his dinner too. He went along eating. All the time he did that, he stared at the antique knife. The knife seemed to dissolve all the noises in the background.

After dinner, the lights went off. The wife took her sleeping pills and slept off instantly. He heaved a long sigh and sat waiting for the world to sleep.

It could have been a good two hours worth of sitting on one’s bed. He got up. Then, he went to the drawing room and took out the knife from the table, smiling. The knife smiled back. He collected something else from his haversack. For some reason, he felt an incoming rush of adrenaline.

He went inside his bedroom and saw his wife sleeping soundly. He got rid of his clothing. His eyebrows formed a tedious arc; lips contorted in rage. He, then, went where he had to.

Laid his things down and lifted his knife in extreme fury. He yelled in rage and stabbed continuously; furiously. Blood poured out instantly forming froth. The head was severed instantly from the body. The guts spilled out with uncanny ease. A warm flow of blood caressed his hands. He wiped the blood over his face and broke out into a satisfying grin.

He cursed in merriment.

Part 3]

The fish carcass lay splattered all across the kitchen floor.

After he finished stabbing the fish for the twenty-seventh time, he finally felt accomplished for the day. He cleaned up the place and the knife and then collected the fished up remains in a plastic bag, singing a Kishore Kumar classic during this time. A hot shower followed and clothing too.

He walked down to his compound and dropped the bag in front of the entrance relishing the waste. Tomorrow’s quarrelling noises echoed back into his ears and he looked pleased. Just to amuse himself, he sprinkled some gore into the guard’s shoes and let out a smirk.

He walked back, letting out words that echoed. Slowly he went inside his bedroom. Kissing his wife on the forehead, he laid down beside her. He closed his eyes.

“Every night, I get my voice back.” He spoke out loud.

And slept curling his knees like a fetus inside a womb; peace attained.

Flirt, Love, Get Killed

I was at the bus stop doing nothing as usual. I was a loner; I was a nomad. I worked only to quench my thirst; my hunger. Basically I was a suave vagabond who didn’t worry about the perils of life. I lived like there is no tomorrow. I waited for destiny to embrace me.

And then suddenly out of nowhere, she came. She was the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. I never thought I could love a girl. I was too busy living on my own spirits. But seeing her I knew, something changed inside me, for good.

I sought her attention. But she didn’t bother and stayed clung to her phone. My mind was working furiously. I knew I needed her. I was devising plans and plots to woo her; to get her. I decided buzzing my songs for her. Passersby waved furiously at me. But I managed fine, dodging. All I wanted was her attention. But to no avail. She was a stone. There was a good chance she was deaf but I didn’t care.

She took a cab out of the blue. I had my own means. I followed her furiously. Sweat and tears rolling. Never have I been so fast. The cab reached her house and parked and I halted too. I followed her stealthily and keeping out of sight. She opened her door and went inside. Foolish girl, I thought. I sneaked in. Stealth has always been my forte. I saw her taking her water bottle and walk to her room. I followed suit being sure she was deaf. I walked into her room. Still nothing came up. She was still acting as if I didn’t even exist. I was not a bloody ghost, I thought. Sure I was ok assuming her deaf. But I knew she wasn’t blind.

I got annoyed. Its one thing being told a ‘No’ but something altogether wretched when there is so much indifference around. I went stupid; I went brave. I touched her shoulder.

She was finally struck with sense and for the first time she looked at me. It was beautiful. I was lost looking at her blue, deep eyes. If someone knew how heaven felt, I am sure he/she (for gender equality) would describe it exactly the way I felt right now. This moment of love was something I never knew before. Her gaze was passive. Her posture grew stiff. But it didn’t bother me. I stared at her with all the grace my love could muster up. She moved her radiant arms and brought it near me. I stayed mesmerized.

She slapped her shoulder mildly. Pain grew inside me. I bled, I withered. She cursed something objectionable and shrugged me off her shoulders. She didn’t even look back and left me for dead on her floor. I was heartbroken; metaphorically and literally. I wish I could tell her how much I loved her. I wish I could tell her not all of us suck blood and spread malaria.

Dying sucks, irony intended.

Amateur Experiments

SD Radhakrishnan, bespectacled, gazed intently at a display board of a large machine. We called her Elizabeth. He noted down a few things on his notepad as I cleaned the floor. I brought some more hydrogen peroxide from the cabinet and poured it into the bucket. He noted some more. He went back and opened the panel and calibrated the readings. I, on the other hand, cleaned the floor with utmost sincerity. Radhakrishnan vented out frustrating groans every now and then. His job among the two was clearly the more difficult. But make no mistake; the floor was very clean now. It has never been so clean, as a matter of fact. But it’s not every day that graduates manage to send things through time. If our calculations are right, today would be that every day. As Radhakrishnan would say, “Science that!”

“Is there any chance that we might hit someone out cold?”

Radhakrishnan dismissed my question with amusement again. I didn’t really like him when he got all smug up but that’s that.

“Three point eight four three three five into ten raise to the negative sixteen”

That was the probability we would hit someone he would say incessantly.

Radhakrishnan and I are Physics and Electronic graduates from MIT respectively. It all started with a random brain storm session with a few of our classmates in a cafeteria and all the notions discussed lead us to this garage. It wasn’t that we are particularly thrilled. Deep inside we know this exercise is nothing more than futile scavenging of theoretical applications. But we are at least a bit proud making this far. Radhakrishnan might be grumpy and shake his head in denial but it was me who triggered the very foundation of our experiment. Radhakrishnan managed to actually implement it.

The garage looked unusually elongated now, after we cleared it. The floor reflected light for a change. The area starting from the device to the garage shutter was our experiment zone. We aligned Elizabeth centrally to cater to her needs.

“Science that!” Radhakrishnan exclaimed.

This usually would mean that the thing was done.

Radhakrishnan stood looking at me, in a dirty white shirt and a bright floral trunk, with a faint smile that did not necessarily convey relief. I cleaned the last square inch, earnestly, got up, wore my slipper and went behind Elizabeth and checked her out. She did not in any way look amateur.

Elizabeth was a huge, almost square box made of polished tin. It had a black electronic panel that gleamed out primitive LEDs. The front looked rather sober. It was covered entirely but for a small vent. Inside among the other details contained the two most important ingredients of our experiment; a propulsion cartridge containing a bullet and a vertically aligned laser, a real one. The laser would not emit the way it was suppose to. In that laid the foundation of our time-travel hullabaloo.

Wormholes are the theoretical entities that we assumed would exist, as a basis of our little experiment. Science Fiction over the ages has twisted and dried down its relevance. In actual sense in theory of technicality, wormholes are entities that get created every now in then in space and last for a time that cannot be measured in any scale known to humans. They are born and then they die in a time frame so miniscule that nothing can grasp it. However if wormholes are caught, stretched and traversed, time and space can be theoretically manipulated. If traversed, they can lead to a time or a universe completely different than ours. It can be any time in the past or the present or the future in this universe or any other, in case there are indeed multiple universes.

This basic assumption was the core that we hoped would sustain. With that we needed a negative particle that would hold and stretch a wormhole. This unknown element was the key and somehow Radhakrishnan manage to accommodate this element in the laser. His basic notion was to change certain polarities which, he presumed, would do the job. And the bullet was supposed to be our time traveler. The laser would be emitted out of the machine with a bullet that would be fired a quarter of a second before. They would align together and if this, presumed negative, laser can tear out any nearby hole, the bullet might tailgate through time for a meter and then come back here. The bullet, irrespective of the outcome, was calibrated to a short projectile. The video camera that I would hold will check its motion through the experiment.

Throughout the process, Radhakrishnan remained adamant and always, spoke with conviction – “We won’t succeed in this lifetime”. Nevertheless he didn’t waver off the path and we did complete the implementation as we wanted, with my A negative electronic wizardry coming to good use.

We stood there for a moment or a thousand as if lost for words. I positioned myself in the corner to capture our amateur experiment. The joy was not in the result but in the process, I convinced myself into believing it. Because irrespective of the result, the satisfaction lies in creating a plot and a story that tries to waver off the routine.

Amidst my philosophical consolidating reverie, Radhakrishnan pressed the start button abruptly and turned Elizabeth on. I hated the fact that no punch lines were made. The device whizzed while I switched on my camera and wore the glares Radhakrishnan told me to wear. The whizzing continued for a minute or so and hopes wandered elsewhere. Then suddenly, a sound of a chisel hitting tin was heard.

A bright light spurted out of the device in sync with the bullet. The light was reminiscent of an Avada Kevadra ejaculating from Voldy’s wand. It started and finished in a blur and we heard the bullet hit the floor. The first attempt at least worked in doing what was expected. The experiment has started and that was a good sign.

We turned off the device and went with tepid feet to pick up the bullet.

Did we start the World War? Did we hit Kennedy or Gandhi? Or was it a peasant or a mafia or Radhakrishnan’s dad in the war? What did we change?

We gasped in horror as the bullet lay on the floor soaked in blood and history.

Radhakrishnan hurried to check the camera as I sat on the floor, on my knees, checking the ghost bullet intently, as a small puddle of blood formed in front of me.

I smiled.

In despair.

She got done with her second last exam and she was on her way back home. It was another killer summer noon; she was heading towards the station wiping her sweat all the way. The train just boarded when she reached station, so she had an ostrich run to reach the ladies compartment and somehow got in. While the troop of ladies were getting in, she pushed them harder and managed to get in too – Mumbai and that’s the significance of Mumbai’s local trains. Alia got in pushing everyone and took a statue of liberty position this time and dropped herself into the corner, the queue was already formed where she needed to get down.  She took a glance around at the people and then got engrossed into her world.  

Suddenly something prickled her down her left calf. She thought it was some small insect that chose to bit her among all. It was constantly irritating her, she was totally annoyed, and she then started to panic. A distorted mind took place when she started to think what it possibly could be. She was sweating even more this time. Water was pouring down her face.

On reaching she got down quickly pushing the crowd out and made her way home running vigorously. All the negative thoughts were running down her brain. She tried imagining her red rushed calf and how it might look. She didn't have the guts to stretch her jeans up in the middle of the road and see what exactly happened to her leg. She ran hardest to reach home and rang the door bell. In distress she got into her house and immediately pulled her jeans up and it was a terror sight that she got to see. Tears started rolling down her eyes.  She felt in despair at that moment. Her mother rushed towards her at aghast.  Alia was screaming, crying. There were multiple doted insects digging her calf, and it was multiplying with time. It was a mere combination of some black and red something melted on her calf. It looked like some chemical experiment had been tried on her calf which failed.  Her mother didn't know what she was supposed to do. She dialled to Alia’s father and told him what Alia was going through. A sudden panic at her place made her think worse, how was she going to give her next exam, she thought. She would have been detained of not appearing for the exams. And all the pessimisms were roaming round her neck. Her career will be ruined and life would draught to death. She started to fear about losing her leg. And all the possible consequences were driving her crazy.

Period.

Train halted. People started to get down and some people pushed Alia and made her get down too. The thoughts running on her drained brain were simplified then. Damn! It was some irrational thoughts that stroke her.

But that insect thing was still pricking her calf. After getting down she reluctantly pulled her jeans up to see what exactly it was. Once she did she found nothing, she ran her hand down her calf. And still there was nothing at all. When she looked closer, it was just a damn drop of sweat that fidgeted her all the while. A damn drop. 

A shallow night and a prancing pony

It was around twelve in the night, the streets howling as Amanda was rushing towards her home. She looked scared. She stopped and turned pale when a black cat just cut her way and crossed. She was frozen. She had started to shiver; she turned around looked right, left, down and moved on. That was a dreadful sign! Her palms started sweating; she had a feeling that something terrible is going to happen. She then reached her door; removed her keys fumbling. She looked around and felt as if someone was following her. There was an awful silence in the street. She eyed the closed doors. The darkness was killing her. There were profound stains of fear in her eyes. She unlocked the door and got in and comforted herself and felt protected. Phew!

She recalled of what had happened the whole day. The fights, the abuses and the betrayal. Her relationship with John had always been that way. When she realised she was being cheated, she died a cold death inside. She caught him with a stranger and burst out into a teary fight at his place the day, that slimy witch was watching them from a distance when they broke. Since afternoon she had been at John’s place making an effort to untie the knots in their relationship. But eventually she gave up when she found there indifferences stood from John’s side. The entire afternoon was deadly silent. He didn’t even utter a word or maybe she didn't let him. She was eventually frustrated with no reaction from John’s side and left his house leaving red remarks.

She found herself sitting down backing the door crying thinking about all that happened. She got up and screamed. Fuck off you son of a bitch! She ran up the stairs and got into the washroom and refreshed  herself. She got out and lit up the lamp and sat beside her bed. She thought how horrifying the whole day was. Her eyes were widening up. She was trying to decipher the illusion and bring herself back to life. But pessimism was surrounding her. Something evil is after my life, someone followed me the whole way, it’s you, all ‘cause of you John, I know, you ruined my whole life you bastard. The fucking cat shouldn’t show his colour. I shouldn’t have made a red silent exit. Damn you!

  

She pulled up her phone and dialled a number to her roommate who apparently was not with her and she burst out telling her everything. Her pitch rose up; I loved him so much, and that asshole was with that bitch! And now he’s making someone follow me, they will now find out what happened but who will held John responsible for all these? It went on and she ended up the call abusing. She was out of the world, she lost it completely. She started walking down her room. Her strand of curl was stroking her eye; she took a scissor and ripped it off. She was fucked up. She knew what was bothering her. John was the big time reason behind her and now he was going to take away her life she thought. She screamed. The madness was taking over her.

Is this the bloody time to play this dreadful siren like sound late in the night? She yelped like a dog when she heard the siren like sound coming from outside. The sound rose louder this time. She started sweating; her palms all wet. She then bent down and hid under the bed. You moron stop it! It was you who started it first! The doorbell rang and she had closed her eyes. No I’m not opening it. I know you want to kill me, put me behind the bars. The bell went on ringing. With no response from Amanda’s side, somebody broke the door and got in. She could hear the footsteps coming upstairs. She closed her ears, her eyes, she was still sweating. There were many people, she could hear them all. She was stunned. She pondered how they found out, the blood marks were almost taken away. They got in her room searching all over.  Then slowly one heavy weighted man raised the blanket that covered the bed. An evil smile appeared on his face. ‘So here is she, come out you lady’, he said.

I…I… just made him asleep…nothing else sir! They then pulled her out.

As they took her away, she saw a pink pony galloping in her room in merriment. She smiled back.

Now this story too dated back - 1 Sep 2011

Life and etc. in it!

I'm not an eighty year old female to give life lessons and talk about experiences but young enough to learn and share what I've learnt. The more I'm growing the different shades of life and people are giving me a clear idea how to go about and deal with things coming my way. Not a single day goes that I don’t get to learn a thing at least, be it things I know and getting to know more or deciphering a sheer human quality and keeping in mind the same. 

Life sure is not a flat field to have a blissful night walk. It’s like climbing mountains in hot summer and not having enough water to quench your thirst when needed the most. So it depends on what kind of a runner you are. An easy going runner having faith to somehow make it till the end, or a runner who pushes others down to quench the thirst to reach the peak or the runner who waits back for the time to come when it will rain, or the one who gives up and jumps off the mountain, what kind are you?

Some are mere pessimists around and thinks nothing good will happen to them. They spend their entire life both shedding tears and regretting what they could have done or keeps on eyeing upon what others have got and they are not destined to get the same. Wrath and jealousy takes place and  is how created and takes different shapes  competing to reach the highest level of it; so much effort is taken to reach that level then, how about having a perception change and going the other way round? Those two things totally succumbs. How better it would have been being an optimist, ignoring world marathon and reaching the highest level to a better path instead? But the former seems to be the typical human nature we are bound with. To look around what others have got and we don’t.  This cynical human nature makes me think a lot. It is like not looking how beautiful you are but to look how less beautiful one should have been. It is like not moulding the best in you but not letting others mould their best too. And yes this is what I’ve been seeing around and it kills me inside. I try caring less but it gets on my nerves when it happens to me or I see it happening to others.

Life in itself is so beautiful, have wide opened eyes to look around and observe. If for someone money brings the happiness home then fight your breath out to get it. If it is happiness that lacks help others to get some back, cherish all that you have, all that you like or a passion for something that makes you happy and so much more. I can endlessly talk about finding beauty in everything around me. Even a crawling ant has the ability to make you smile. “Beauty is in the eye of the gazer” rightly said? Beat that line! Happiness can be found in the extremist niche if one has faith in self to find out. For some it might take ages to get what they always desired to and eventually might find it impossible to reach there and indubitably will stop deterring to the same. But that doesn’t mean the only reason you are left with is giving up. No! Yet again I’d say life is sure no easy, if no good deeds happened to you, how about making a journey living worthwhile and carrying along memories with it. Pain is mandatory, but suffering is optional. Right? Problems are like shadows, if you turn on the lights they are gone in seconds. :)

Well then, living your own life is more important, within a fraction of seconds life can take a turn unexpectedly, you never know. Or if it doesn't  beating up time and making it happen sounds more spontaneous. So let’s not life taste the J factor or other factors. Trust me no medical treatment available as of now for such syndromes. :)