Sachin ban gaya Fillum Writer

Bollywood sighs with relief. At last, the young and upcoming director Salil has finished his first directorial venture. Running to thunderous applause and critical acclaim in packed cinema houses and film festivals across the country, I can proudly say the film is based, albeit loosely, on my story

For those of you unable to wait for this classic to come to a theatre near you, shout "3 cheers to Youtube" and wade in.

P.S: This post is more than 4 months late. Just so you know, I became famous a lot earlier than you people think ;)

Oru Gulf Katha

After a long break , I am back to the world of blogging. Let me warn
you however, that unlike Adoor Gopalakrishnan, a long break in my case
does not necessarily guarantee a classic. Quite a lot of water has
flown down Mahe puzha since I last graced blogworld with words
from my immensively creative literary mind. ( Thank God for small
mercies - the passage of time has brought forth no reduction in the
swelling of the head ).

Last time I wrote , I was in Bangalore. The times - they have a
changed and now I am in that parudeesa of all true blood
Malayalees - the Gulf. To be more precise - Qatar , that blessed
sunlit land , where the only thing you see on all sides is sand, sand
and still more sand , and nary a drop of thirst quencher except good
old H2O.

In the hotel room, I was browsing through the various TV channels and
what do I see on Star Plus but an ad for that magnus opum - Kyunki
Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thhi . Mock me not, when I declare these guys
deserve an award or something. Its been so long and still Saas
Abhi Tak Mari Nahin . Ramanand Sagar ji , this is the
original epic.

Lets keep this post short and sweet. Its more a reminder to myself of
the bunch of desparate people out there waiting with bated breath for
my next post. Rest assured guys, your prayers havent fallen on deaf
ears.

As 21st century Robert Browning would say:
Sachin's writing posts again
God's in his heaven
All's right with the world

India - A Study In Contrasts

I had occasion to read two posts recently - posts written by two friends , one on how Indians compare to the western 'developed' world , the other on the tragic happenings in our underbelly , something all of us conveniently prefer to ignore. The two posts provide the perfect answer to why India can never be uniformly developed , why the gap is just too great - between a middle class looking to the west , criticising the poverty , the dirt , all that we *know* is wrong with our country - and the truly under privileged , whose story we just dont bother to hear.

We ( I count myself amongst the cursing middle class ) , prefer to gripe about the system , about why the buses dont run on time, how the garbage is never collected, why the politicians are so corrupt, how the whole system is wrong etc etc. And the rationale for all this criticism ? We are tax paying citizens, and have a right to determine how our hard earned money is spent. Spare a thought for our fellow citizens, who never had a decent meal , no proper health care facilities, in fact arent even educated enough to protest , like the rest of us civilized folks.

Next time you see that potholed road and open your mouth to complain, spare a thought for this gentleman. His breed proves the saying, 'Hands that serve are holier than hands that pray' (or complain!!!).

When Two Become One

Its a small step for a man
(Three rounds around a fire to be precise)
But a giant leap in his life

Goodbye to the good old days
Staying awake at night , pandering a thirsty throat
Sleeping the hangovers off in the morning
Swearing things couldnt get any better in life

The old was good, but the new is better
Divine Conductor, keep the music flowing

(p.s : The wedding snaps will be up on the web just as soon as I can get the idiot photographer to replace the photo CDs he gave me of someone else's marriage)

Ajeeb Daastaan Hai Yeh

(Ajeeb Daastaan Hai Yeh, Kahan Shuru Kahan Khatam
Yeh Manzile Hai Kaun Si, Na Woh Samajh Sake Na Hum) - 2

(Yeh Roshni Ke Saath Kyon, Dhuaan Utha Chiraag Se) - 2
Yeh Khwab Dekhti Hoon Main, Ya Jag Padi Hoon Khwab Se

Ajeeb Daastaan Hai Yeh, Kahan Shuru Kahan Khatam
Yeh Manzile Hai Kaun Si, Na Woh Samajh Sake Na Hum

(Mubaarakein Tumhe Ki Tum, Kisi Ke Noor Ho Gaye) - 2
Kisi Ke Itne Paas Ho, Ki Sabse Door Ho Gaye

Ajeeb Daastaan Hai Yeh, Kahan Shuru Kahan Khatam
Yeh Manzile Hai Kaun Si, Na Woh Samajh Sake Na Hum

(Kisi Ka Pyaar Leke Tum, Naya Jahaan Basaaoge) - 2
Yeh Shaam Jab Bhi Ayegi, Tum Humko Yaad Aaoge

Ajeeb Daastaan Hai Yeh, Kahan Shuru Kahan Khatam
Yeh Manzile Hai Kaun Si, Na Woh Samajh Sake Na Hum

The One Legged Man

Vivek cursed himself for the hundredth time. Why had he decided to take the shortcut. Now he was in big trouble. His car had broken down in the middle of nowhere, it was getting dark and there was not a soul in sight. Adding to his irritability was that he was stuck right next to the graveyard. Though not by nature a superstitious man, he wished his car had chosen a better spot to break down.

"Babuji". The sound, over his left shoulder startled him. He turned around. It was a villager , with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, using a lathi for support. The villager had a lantern with him.Vivek sent a silent prayer of thanks.

"My car broke down. I must get some transportation immediately. Its urgent".

"There is a dhaba two miles from here. I can show you the way. Iam going that way myself".

As they walked, Vivek noticed a hollow sound. He looked closely at his new found companion and found the answer. The man had a wooden leg. Vivek hadnt noticed it before. Perhaps it was because of the darkness. Vivek lost sense of time as they walked. The tip-tap of the wooden leg was dulling his senses.He looked at the man closely. He seemed all at peace with himself, not in the mood for idle chit chat. The silence however, was weighing down on Vivek.

"What were you doing at that lonely spot", Vivek suddenly asked. The man stopped and looked at him. A curious stare.

"I was waiting for my wife. She didnt come. Perhaps tomorrow...".He sighed wistfully. "The doctors say it will be any time now".

A chill slowly crawled up Vivek's spine. It all seemed so unnatural. He was following this stranger, unable to see more than a couple of feet ahead. For the second time that day, he prayed to God.

"Babuji , whats the hurry? Why do you keep looking at your watch?". The sudden shattering of the silence startled him.

"I have a meeting tomorrow. I think I will be late." Vivek dared not look at the stranger as he answered.

The stranger shook his head wistfully."Today's people. Always in a hurry. Babuji, think of time in terms of years, not in days. You will be more at peace with yourself". And the stranger bared his teeth in a smile. To Vivek's heightened senses , there was something distinctly menancing.

Suddenly the stranger stopped. Pointing ahead, he said, "Babuji, there is the dhaba I was telling you about.You will get a bus from there." Vivek looked in the pointed direction . There were lights some twenty meters ahead. He hadnt noticed them before. Too busy worrying about his situation.
He turned to thank the stranger. But the man had vanished. Almost into thin air.

He ran towards the lights, stumbling. He rushed into the dhaba. There were quite a few customers. Two trucks parked nearby. Everyone stared at him as he rushed in.

"Relax saab", said the dhaba owner, "you look like you have seen a ghost".

"I think I did", Vivek stammered." There was this man with a wooden leg, I met at the graveyard".

The dhaba owner laughed uproariously."You must have met Salim langda. Ever since he had his leg amputated he likes to fool people. You are the third this month..."

The Sentence

He looked around the crowded room. The group of people were gathered around the round table, discussing his case animatedly. Looking at them , he was reminded of the jury members in the film , 'The Twelve Angry Men'. Except that, this was not a movie. This was his life that they were debating and arguing. He let his eyes wander around the room.

At the center of the crowded room, sat the man who would pronounce the sentence. The judge.In regal clothes, aware of his own importance, his face inscrutable, the judge surveyed the room and the people in it. He looked at the judge. he had no idea what words would come out of that mouth - but he realized one thing. Today whatever the judge spoke, would determine his destiny. He looked at that splendid form - and prayed.

The judge cleared his throat. A hush fell around the crowded room. "We have decided".You could have heard a pin drop. "This man", he tried to make himself as small as possible as every pair of eye was trained on him, "is sentenced to life imprisonment". Everyone looked delighted. "Without parole". He looked at the judge , hanging on every word.Could what he was hearing be the truth? The judge continued, "I sentence this man to holy matrimony, wedded to his beloved, whose happiness shall be his sole purpose in life".

Sachin surveyed the room. And smiled.

p.s : Iam getting engaged this Sunday ( May 13th ). Marriage in mid July.

Dalal Street for Dummies

Diversify to Derisk

Henry Markowitz won the Nobel Prize in Economics in 1990 for his work on reducing Portfolio risk by diversification. Essentially it means the more company shares you own ( if the companies are from different sectors, still better ), the less vulnerable to risk your portfolio will be. Very commensensical, one would say. Would it surprise you that our UTI proved that theory wrong. UTI's US-64 had the shares of nearly 3000 companies in its kitty at one time ( though most were not traded in stock exchanges would be a small matter ). Still its performance when compared to the benchmark BSE Sensex were abysmal.


Bring down your average cost

I bought shares in a mid cap company. The prices went down and I bought more. The vicious cycle continued till this particular stock formed nearly 70% of my portfolio. Bring down your average cost, the experts will tell you. Don’t throw good money after bad, I reply.
It was very recently that I came across this quotation from economist John Maynard Keynes, "The markets can remain irrational longer than you can remain solvent. " But I have always tried to be positive in my thoughts. The way I look at this is a couple hundred more shares in this company and they should be inviting me to join the Board of Directors. And then we will see who is laughing on the wrong side of his face

The Sachin touch

I believe I have the Midas touch. True , I may not have benefited personally , but what the heck, you cant have it both ways, can you. Shares I bought , and then sold for a pittance in profits have since reached the stratosphere. Consider this - Indian Rayon bought at 74, sold at 80 ( current price is 1200 ), M&M bought at 80 , sold at 120 ( current price is 750 ) , SBI bought at 185, sold at 215 ( current price is 1100 ) - the list goes on. So the next time you want to make a killing on the stock market, just ask me what share I recently sold.

Don’t listen to the 'experts'

I was disillusioned by the so called 'experts' pretty early into my stock market foray. You would have one expert talking glibly on the TV, singing paens to company X - 'X is clearly on an uptrend , will surely rise 20% in one month'. One month later , by which time X would have dutifully dropped 50% and numerous investors having lost their shirts are trying desperately to hold on to their chaddis, the same expert would be back on TV screaming "SELL X!!!" without so much as a polite "Sorry , I screwed up".

TINSTAAFL

There Is No Such Thing As A Free Lunch - this is as much true of the share market as it is of any other field. It’s a zero sum game - one man's loss is another's gain - unless your stock is going only one way - UP. Two words of advice : Caveat Emptor - Buyer beware applies here.

The Bus Journey

Tushar hurried in the rain to catch the bus. He was muttering curses under his breath. It was imperative that he catch the bus, and it looked very likely at the moment that he would miss it. There were no autos or taxis to be seen anywhere. He had forgotten to bring his raincoat or umbrella which was why he was now wet to the bone, splashing through the knee deep water carrying his bag in his arms. At last , after what seemed like an eternity, he reached the bus stand. Thank God, his bus was still there.

Tushar climbed on to the bus, avoiding the angry stares of his fellow passengers, all looking at the person who had delayed all of them. 25 , 25 he muttered and found his seat. The aisle seat on the driver's side, third row from the back , the only empty seat in the whole bus. No sooner had he settled into his seat than the bus started.

Tushar hated onboard movies which was why he had opted for this bus, which never showed any. He also preferred the window seat , so he could stare outside. Unfortunately on this trip he had to make do with the aisle seat. He turned his head sideways , wanting to get a look at his neighbour. She was staring out of the bus - he could only see her silky smooth hair. Dressed in jeans and Tees. Tushar had never been the kind of guy who waits for the other person to start a conversation. Accordingly , he bent forward and said, "Hi, Iam Tushar".

She turned her head. Her face looked lovely - oval face with a dark complexion , perfectly sculpted , full lips and somehow hauntingly familiar. Her eyes were what struck him the most - deer's eyes. "Hello, Iam Priya", she replied, smiling in return. Thus encouraged, Tushar plunged recklessly ahead.

Priya was going to her hometown, she explained. A guy was coming over to see her. She had never even seen him, nor bothered to check out his picture that her parents had sent her.

"Why?", Tushar asked, surprised.

"Iam in love with another guy and am going to marry him. Why should I be bothered about a guy whom I have never met , who is coming to my place tomorrow to see me, whom Iam never going to marry anyway", Priya shot back, her face proudly defiant , her eyes sparkling.

Tushar felt as if a jolt of electricity had passed through him. For he remembered now why Priya's face had seemed so familiar. Hers had been among one of the photos his parents had sent to him, the girl he was going to meet tomorrow. Indecision gripped Tushar's heart. Should he tell Priya that he was the guy supposed to meet her tomorrow? How would she react then? 'No, better to keep quiet', Tushar thought. Still he felt a strange feeling of loss, for in that brief interval, he had come to like this lovely , smart girl.

Priya's phone rang. "My boyfriend", Priya said shyly. She turned her head and soon they were exchanging sweet nothings over the phone. The sound smote Tushar's heart. He tried hard not to listen and curled up to try and get some sleep. He woke up suddenly in the night. Something had woken him up. He looked around. The sight and sound of Priya sobbing shocked him. He was too embarassed to ask her. He would talk to her in the morning , he promised himself and went back to sleep.

When he woke up the sun was already high in the sky. He had overslept. He turned to Priya's seat and was disconcerted to see she was no longer there. Her stop had come and gone. He felt at a loss for words. Would he ever know why she had been crying? There was only one thing for him to do , the only decent thing. He could not go ahead with the proposal with a girl who so clearly loved another. He would tell his parents he was not interested in that girl , and then hopefully, Priya would have the life she dreamed about.

His parents reaction was typical and expected. They could not understand why Tushar was pulling out from the proposal at this late stage, when he had been so enthusiastic all along. But Tushar was adamant, and they had to give way. His father called up Priya's house and explained how they would not proceed with the proposal. Something to do with horoscope matching , Tushar's father mumbled over the phone. The rest of the day passed really slowly. His parents did not speak to him once. Tushar himself was happy that he had done the right thing by Priya, that she could now get married to the person she loved. As for his parents, time would soon bring them back to their normal selves.

He woke up early the next day , waited for his mother to bring him his cup of tea in bed , as she always did. She came and he was shocked to see her eyes were red. She had obviously been crying. She couldn’t look him in the eye, just flung the newspaper in his general direction. The news item was on the third page. A small three inch column. 'Jilted girl commits suicide' , went the headline. His eyes blurred as he read the news. Priya was dead. What had happened? He would never know. "I did the right thing", he wanted to scream , but he knew, in the eyes of his parents, Priya's parents , he would always be the person who had sent their daughter to her death.

Liar Liar

Disclaimer: This is a true incident narrated as it happened. The conversation you hear is that spoken by a guy on his mobile phone - a guy who was my neighbour in the Volvo bus yeterday on the Calicut Bangalore route ( Didn’t know in my wildest dreams that such pompous idiots actually exist ). The comments in italics are my thoughts at the time. Since I did not have any intention of posting this on the blog at the time, some of the thoughts may be a bit lurid. Also as it gets late , my thoughts become more violent as I realize Iam not going to get the sleep I bargained for. Also the conversation was a whole lot longer, but this is all I remember today.

The bus had just started from Calicut , the lights have been dimmed and I am getting ready for a good night's sleep.This guy calls up his girlfriend on the phone and starts talking. I can only hear his side of the conversation.

"Hi , Iam on the bus"
So am I
"We have just started from Calicut. Whats with all these South Indians? The names they choose for their places - Malayalees, Tamils, Kannadas they are all the same."
Oh ho that’s rich coming from you Mr Snake-in-the-Grass Gujarati

"What are the others doing? Some of them are talking on their mobiles like myself, while others are dozing"
And a unfortunate few are trying to

"Hey Nisha, I saw your pic in your profile.Were you wearing any lens?No ? Oh so you have cat's eyes"
Tu bhi yaar. Cut the crap. Hmm Nisha. Nice name.

"Are you in the kitchen? I can hear the sound of utensils"
She is with her lover right now dumbhead and they are making love on the kitchen table
"Its raining again, heavily. It always does this. Thankfully it didn’t rain before I got on the bus. I don’t have an umbrella. I have found it often happens with me. When I want something to happen really badly , I just have to think it and it just happens"
Is this guy for real? Who does he think he is ? Welcome to God's Own Country O Exalted One.
"I don’t get angry at all. I mean when Iam getting angry, it means Iam handing over control of my feelings to someone else"
Not very original in our thoughts are we, Mr Wise Guy
"Hey you are breaking up"
Hooray. Perhaps the guy will take a hint and hang up

"Don’t worry. Let me cut and call you again"
Oh No there goes that hope. Maybe there will be no signal and I will be saved. Who am I kidding? Whats a poor mobile signal to a guy who controls the weather?

"Thank God, I got you. This paid one week vacation is really good. And the company doesn’t deduct it from my 27 days Annual leave either"
Good for you. Unfortunately, Iam not on paid leave, I need to go to office tomorrow.

At this point, Nisha decided to take matters into her own hands and cut the phone. May the Gods shower their choicest blessings on you , dear lady.

The rest of the night was spent fighting over the shared arm rest. Luckily for me , this guy never got angry , so things didn’t turn out too badly for me.

The Interpretation of Dreams

Subhash woke up. He hadnt had a good night's sleep. He had been dreaming about Shwetha the whole night. No reason really. He hadnt gone to sleep thinking about her. Infact , he rarely thought about her now - it had been like this since that day one month back he had decided that the two of them were meant to go their separate ways.

His mind wandered back one year. His second day in office. He had seen this vision in a black salwar kameez, with the face of an angel. He had never believed in love at first sight , but then and there she had become his first ever crush. It had taken him one month just to summon his courage and speak to her face to face. And from that day on , they had been the best of friends.

Shwetha was already married and Subhash himself was committed. Perhaps that was the reason he never unburdened his heart's deepest secret to her. He didnt know. He knew he loved the girl he was engaged to , but he treasured his crush for Shwetha - a feeling not likely to be reciprocated because Shwetha probably was unaware of this secret. And so he had decided, never to reveal to her his true feelings for her. He had argued with himself for days , but what clinched it was that in his heart he knew there was no future for any such relationship. And there was no point in ruining a perfectly good friendship by trying for something that was never to be.

And now he was resigning and leaving for a land far away. It was unlikely that they would meet ever again. His mind had fluttered at that point , wondering if he should not tell her the truth before they parted. In the end he had decided that it was best that all this remained buried in the recesses of his heart. Which was why it was so strange that he should have had this dream today.

He had dreamed that Shwetha had come to his place yesterday. He had been alone there. They had got talking and accidentally their fingers had touched. The feeling was electric. He could have sworn that she blushed. An then one thing led to another and before long they found themselves in each other's arms. At this point he had woken up. Subhash was disturbed by the dream. He didnt know what to make of it. Did it mean that Shwetha actually reciprocated his feelings - or was it just his own mind playing on his feelings, leading him to believe what he wanted to believe.

He sat in bed for half an hour , trying to analyse the dream. Try as he might he could not make sense of the dream.Frustrated , he got up , dressed and went to office. Wonder of wonders - the first person he saw was Shwetha. She started as soon as she saw him. She came upto him and whispered, blushing , "What happened last night should never have happened. Please, never mention this to anyone".

Go Springboks Go

Angane pavanaayi shavamaayi.enthokke bahalamaayirunnu.malappuram kaththi,machine gun,bomb,olakkede moodu.. This memorable dialogue by Thilakan in Nadodikattu best describes the reaction that came to my mind this morning around 2:30 am while the last rites were being performed at Port of Spain.

India lost to Sri Lanka yesterday, putting to an end the intricate Net run Rate calculations all diehard supporters of the team were indulging in.

However , we can still afford to smile. This was best exemplified by this sms message on Asianet Plus . "Bermuda ki Jai" , went the message. The sender's name ? Dravid.

A Series of Events

Madhavan was now at the head of the checkout queue in the supermarket. He fidgeted, praying the checkout clerk would not get suspicious. His plans were set. He had already rented a room in the nearby hotel. Go back there, have a heavy dinner and then the sleeping pills mixed with the vodka should do the trick. Pity that he, the local bank manager, would need to end his life this way. But there was no other way. He had only one regret - he would not be able to help that young lady, now what was her name, yes Priya. She really needed the loan for her husband's treatment. He had decided to sanction it, but with him gone now, there was no chance she would get it in time. Oh well, everyone had their own problems. His own was he had used the bank's money to dabble in shares. The auditor was coming for a surprise check tomorrow and there was no way he could escape detection.

He laid down the two bottles of sleeping pills on the counter. The clerk looked startled and asked, with a smile,"Not planning a suicide, are we?". Madhavan laughed, real loud. The laughter sounded fake even to his own ears.

****************

Gopal looked up, startled. The man standing in front of him in the queue had suddenly laughed.What an insane laugh it was too. Sent a chill crawling up his spine. Looked a respectable gent.Oh Well , he had enough problems of his own, without enquiring into why others would laugh out loud suddenly.

But at last , it looked like his own problems were coming to an end. He had lent a considerable amount of money to his old classmate , Priya. She had urgently needed it for her husband Suresh's treatment. The only problem was , the money had not been his in the first place. It belonged to the local goonda Mahesh. And now Mahesh wanted the money back. It had really looked curtains for Gopal , because he knew there was no way Priya could somehow get him the money. And God knew, he couldnt raise any himself. And just when things had started looking really dark for him , he had got the call from Priya. She had succeeded in getting the loan from the bank. Gopal had sent a silent prayer of thanks to the unknown benefactor, the bank manager.

"Julie...I love you"...His mobile was ringing. Gopal let it ring for sometime so he could listen to his favourite tune.

*****************

"Julie...I love you". Ajit was startled. The mobile phone of the man standing ahead of him in the queue was ringing. Set so loud too. Ajit screwed his nose in disgust. Why wouldnt the guy pick up the phone. Ajit's nerves were all jangled. They usually were just before a job. This wasnt usually how he started out. But he had had to come to the supermarket because he had forgotten his gloves. And he was nothing if not thorough.

Ajit quickly paid for the gloves and hurried out of the supermarket. As he turned the corner , he bumped into a lady. His right hand automatically went towards the gun hidden in his inner jacket pocket. He looked up. She had a pretty face. He calmed down. "Excuse me madam", Ajit asked, "can you tell me which way is the bank?"

*****************

Priya was humming a song as she walked home. There was a spring to her step which had not been there for some weeks now. The bank manager, Madhavan, had saved her. She would now be able to repay her dear friend Gopal. At last it looked like all her problems were solved.

As she turned the corner, someone bumped into her. She staggered back, her breath knocked out. She looked up. The man who had bumped into her was looking at her. He had a furtive look. "Excuse me madam", he asked her, "can you tell me which way is the bank?". "Take the next left , the bank is the second building on the right", Priya told him. As he hurried along , Priya called after him ,"But it will be closed now." She could have sworn his mouth opened in a grim smile. She suddenly felt chilly. Priya looked around. There was no one nearby. It was getting late. Priya hurried towards home, where Suresh was waiting for her. She smiled as she thought of how he would react when he heard the good news.

*****************

Madhavan reached his hotel room, after a long walk.He had wanted to work up an appetite for his last meal. The chicken biriyani he had ordered on the way up smelt delicious. He quickly gobbled it up. "And now for dessert", he smiled to himself. He emptied both bottles of sleeping pills into the bottle of vodka, mixed himself a drink. He switched on the TV. No point in dying an uninformed man. The local TV channel was on. There was a "Breaking News" banner on the screen. He turned on the volume. The announcer was breathlessly blurting out the news,"There has been a burglary at the local bank. The whole bank building has been gutted by a fire believed by the police to have been started by the burglar to destroy any clues." Madhavan watched fascinated as the camera veered to the smouldering remains of the bank. His bank. But but, he realized if the bank had been destroyed it means, the money would be gone too. All of it. So how could the auditor tell if any money had been missing before the robbery.He was saved. The glass of vodka remained in his hand, untasted.

"Thank you God," Madhavan prayed fervently, tears of joy streaming down his face."This was the only chance I needed. I will never do anything wrong again"

A New Hope

Sriram looked up at the ceiling for the nth time. The noisy fan was whirring overhead. It was his fifth day at the hospital. He had been admitted there after being diagonised with cancer. How slowly the days had seemed to pass.He remembered the day he was admitted like it had happened just an hour back. "You are too young to die", the beaming nurse had said in a reassuring voice. She had a calm ,competent manner, with a lovely face to boot. "I have nothing left to live for", he had almost corrected her.

The same nurse (he had found out her name was Chitra) used to come in every morning around 11, giving him his morning round of medicines. And Chitra always used to drop into his room in the evenings, right before her shift ended. She always had a smile on her lips.And a lively manner. He never could make out how fast the time flew when she was with him. In another life, another time, he might almost have fallen in love with her.Almost , but not quite , he thought bitterly. The sound of the rain falling gently outside lulled him to sleep.

When Sriram woke up the next morning, the sun was already out. And smiling at him from the window ledge was a flower, which had not been there the previous night. He looked closely. There was some soil on the window ledge, and there the lone flower had sprouted, looking like a palm tree in the desert. Glistening with the water from the rain , swaying against the wind, raising its little head up to the Sun, the flower seemed to Sriram to be a beacon of hope. For the first time in days, he looked forward to the rest of the day.

Chitra came and was surprised to see Sriram in a jovial mood. He was sharing jokes, smiling away like one without a care in the world. And she was glad, for she had come to love this morose looking young man. She loved him more now that he had obviously decided not to give up without a fight. With each passing day, Sriram regained his strength, waiting eagerly for when Chitra would come again.

Days passed. And then one day , when Sriram woke up, the sight that greeted his stunned eyes chilled his marrow. For, the flower was no longer there. The whole window ledge was squeaky clean. Like a door shutting out the light, he felt all hope , all prayers , draining out of him. Like the drowning man clutching at the straw only to find it no longer there, he waited like the condemned man for the door to open and bring him his death.

The door opened. Chitra was there holding a paper in her hand. He looked at her, without speaking. He nodded dumbly, towards the window ledge. She saw the flower gone, came over and squeezed his hand."Sriram", she said, "We just found out. The cancer you have got is completely benign. Its curable. Some mixup with the lab results", she continued , but he was too dizzy to hear. There was a roaring sound in his ears.

He felt elated, on top of the world. It seemed almost as if the flower had sacrificed itself, so he might live. It was absurd , of course, but what was logic or reason to a dying man who had just been given a fresh lease of life. Like a mad man, willing to risk his all on one throw of dice ,Sriram grabbed both hands of Chitra in his own. "Will you be mine?" , he asked her. Chitra was silent, but the twinkle in her eyes gave him the answer he wanted to hear.

Cricket Lovely Cricket

Nike just did it ! Its first ever cricket ad - a smash hit , featuring all that is beautiful about how the game is played in India. And talk about timing - two weeks before the World Cup starts.

Took me some time to get the actual meaning of the lyrics , but the Konkani sounds just beautiful. Check out the ad (for those who were on another planet the last week and may just have missed this piece of magic)

Lyrics (Translated from Konkani):

'Wait, partner, wait
First let me play
If you don't play, I'll keep chasing you all day
Our game is like this only
Where we have no time to think
It is the game of cat and mouse
That I have begun to love
And in the falling running breaking
My destiny is entwined'

p.s : I know the transalation is nowhere as beautiful as the original lyrics. If anyone knows the actual Konkani words used in the ad, please post it in the comments.

Dont Think Dont Think

The Idle mind is your worst enemy, thinking pitiful thoughts
Insidious it is , breaking you from within, making you nought
Just one way to escape , be busy, no time to think
Leisure is a fool's choice, only fools stand and blink

Dont lose a moment, dont worry about the Why and the How
Every minute is precious, the best of your life starts Now
Dont pine over your losses, time spent pining is lost forever
Get up , start moving,you must realize its now or never

Life will hand you lemons, remember it was never fair
No use complaining, all you got was your due share
You have your chance, do not sit and on failures dwell
Like the wise man said, the best revenge is to live well

The past is past, thinking about its not gonna help
Seize the moment, swallow all your sorrows in one gulp
Dont blame Destiny , Its not Karma, no such thing as Fate
Because Life is What you make it, the sooner you realize the better mate

A Story Without A Title

It was so dark, Chandran couldnt see anything. He felt suffocated, short of breath. "This too shall pass", he told himself determinedly, gritting his teeth. This saying usually used to comfort him, but not this time. He still felt uneasy, butterflies in his stomach. He had heard that thinking pleasant thoughts relaxed the body and mind. Might as well give it a shot. He had nothing to lose anyway.

He thought of Chandni, in the village they had grown up together. He could see in his mind's eye the bubbly twelve year old , running out to meet him, holding his hands and leading him into the house. They had always been made for each other. She was always the little one, looking upto him in wonder. He would always be doting on her every word. They had been what the elderly people in the village called the Ideal Couple.

They had grown up, she into a lovely young lady, he into a handsome young man. The love they shared had only grown stronger. They really made a most attractive couple. And they were to get married next month. Alas, it was not going to be. "The best laid plans of mice and men" sprang to his mind. He had always been good at quoting others.

He had loved her so much he would do almost anything for her. And he had. Oh why had he ever done what he did. The lure of quick money could be his only excuse.

He could almost see Chandni now, alone in their house ,waiting for the call that would never come...

"Ready Chandran?", asked the jailer.

"Ready Sir", Chandran replied.

At the jailer's nod, the hangman pressed the lever. Chandran's body plunged down into the dark , empty space below.

"He is dead alright", said the jail doctor, examining the body after the mandatory 10 minute wait.

I Met A Blind Man Once

I met a Blind Man once, afflicted with the loss since he was born
He was tapping his cane on the pavement, walking all alone
A wave of pity rose in me, rage at a Fate so unfair
That one should be denied the pleasure of seeing things fair

I met a Blind Man once, we spent a nice long time chatting
I spoke to him of sights wondrous, which he must be missing
the green fields, the blue skies, the breaking of the sun's light
how does one explain the concept of colour to one with no sight

I met a Blind Man once, I found him very happy, to my surprise,
He told me of why he was grateful, for the simple joys of Life
for the warmth of the sun on his cheeks, a baby's sweet clear laughter
the sweet singing of the birds, the twinkling sound of rushing water

I met a Blind Man once, not once did he complain
He was busy counting his blessings, no time to feel pain
What a change it was from the usual complaints I heard
the backbiting, the gossip that we at office shared

I met a Blind Man once , so peaceful he was amidst the strife,
He showed me all that had been missing in my life
Lost in my daily routine between home and office
I never knew I had been missing such joys

I met a Blind man once , he brought about a change not slight
He taught me "seeing" is much much more than mere sight
I met a Blind Man once, he was one of the rare happy few
Looking back, I wonder who was the more blind of the two.

The Swansong of a Loser

I look back and have nothing to call my own
Nothing to show , nothing to mark my time here
The hand was won,the finishing line was so close
Waste not your precious tears on a loser's loss

I feel the darkness closing in on me, no hope to spare
Reach out blindly for the bottle , drive out the despair
Know this is no solution ,but the time's over to make a stand
Numbing my mind's still better than dying by mine own hand

Think not of me too harshly, my darling, I love you still
I gave my best, just wasnt bold enough to fit the bill
I just wish I had the courage to speak out,make you mine
I know I have lost you ,only wish to hold you one more time

To the one who meant to me the most, only this I have to say
The curtain is coming down, for this life was just a play
Not your fault you never did realize, I played what part
My laughter was just to drown out my loud ,sobbing heart

I made light of your fears, the price I pay now is just
Never realized the hurt I was causing you, Iam indeed accursed
I love you baby, only never could tell you in so many words
These words you read , are that of a loser signing off

An Evening With The Gods

So there I was , sitting in the park one dusky evening
When who should come along , but the Three Greats beaming
Vishnu was the first, then Shiva , Another One of the Holy Trinity
Brahma came last with his four heads,though I could see just three

I got up from the bench, greeted them with hands folded
They stopped in surprise - though they be Gods - were jolted
Vishnu asked, "Why do you greet us in this fashion, O Stranger"
I said, "How can I remain seated in such holy company, my Father"

Shiva said, "You must be wise indeed to recognize us, Vatsa"
I replied , "In truth, my Lords it was easy, needed but little chutzpah
You O Shiva with the snake around the neck, Vishnu with his chakra and mace
And you O Brahma, with the multiple heads were the easiest to place"

Brahma smiled and said, "It is well indeed that we meet one so wise,
Perhaps he can solve our problem, which does vex us day and night
Listen to me carefully , for I speak softly and speak but once
Among the Three , tell us who is The Greatest , who the Dunce"

I spoke ( hands still folded ), in tones plaintively
"If it be Chhoti Munh Badi Baat* do forgive me
But if I must judge, tell me what qualifies each of you best
Alphabetically Brahma, you go the first , before the rest"

Brahma spoke up, all three pairs of lips moving in sync back and forth
( Because he was facing me , I still could not see the fourth)
"Iam the Creator, the Giver of Life, from me the Vedas sprung
Who can doubt my Greatness, for I gave Man Wisdom and spunk"

Scarcely had He stopped, than Shiva grabbed the imaginary mike
I stepped back, for his snake was swirling like a wind tossed kite
"I Destroy all evil, put even Indra, King of the Gods in his place
And if you doubt me, I will open mine Third Eye, clear your haze"

Not to be outdone, Vishnu continued from where Shiva left off
"This my Sudarshana chakra can cut the wicked, while they do laugh
Vettu onnu muri randu as the saying goes in Kerala land
Meaning 'One Cut Two Wounds' , transalated for the Malayalam challenged"

I listened to the Divine voices enthralled, the time for judgement was nigh
"Truth be told , you are all neck and neck( no pun intended , Brahma Sire)
Why this childish competition, O Wise Ones, of Who be the Master
Who can compare Fire and Water, or the Earth for that matter."

Listening to this, Maha Vishnu's lips parted in a smile
(Though for Brahma and Shiva to catch on , it took a while )
"My dear Narada, I would have recognized you anywhere
Let us return to Heaven, for long we have missed you sore"


*Small Mouth Big Talk