Tuesday, September 25, 2018

A little drama is required


Being an Indian, I can totally bet that you can just never get enough of drama. You may hate it yet you can’t escape it. I think that we are wired in a way that from time to time, we do need to refill our drama quotient. Of course it takes different amount of time for different persons for the drama quotient to get empty. Someone’s drama quotient may last for one month while someone else’s may last just a week.
Don’t get me wrong here. I am not saying that Indians do not appreciate good cinema. On the contrary, drama is probably the least appreciated genre of cinematic content in this country. This has been around for so long that it is now being taken for granted. With the advent of international media and exposure to other genres, the significance of drama has further subdued. Yet, I firmly believe that it will never be extinct.

I know of someone who really enjoys Game of Thrones. He is a huge fan of Batman. He has watched every episode of Supernatural. He watches every super hero movie. He is a fan to an extent that he even speaks the dialogues in usual conversation. Yet when the movie Bajrangi Bhaijaan came out, his status read something like – Hum toh aapki dabangiyat ke deewane the yeh toh aap Bajrangi Bhaijaan banke aur bhi zyada fan kar gaye – loosely translated to that we were fan of your Dabangg image and you made us a fan with Bajrangi Bhaijaan.

Then I don’t know a single girl who hasn’t seen one of the drama shows. All mothers and the previous generations have seen Balaji production shows. Even the girls – I don’t think there is any who has not seen any. Countless shows like Geet, Miley Jab Hum Tum, Dil Mil Gaye and many more started as being of a different genre but they contained tons of drama and got even bigger viewership. Well you may argue that these shows didn’t contain the saas-bahu drama but hey, drama is drama in any form or relationship.
There is also a quick test for this – see any show or movie which is currently showing a romantic or wedding sequence. Even though such scene seldom not contain drama correlated, if you get a girl to watch it for a couple of seconds, she is most likely to sit through the entire run. And not just girls, I know a lot of guys will respond in the same manner to this test.

I realized this when suddenly I had this urge to see a Karan Johar movie one day. I have all marvel movies in my cellphone along with FRIENDS series. I was already seeing some more things and then just out of the blue, I wanted to see a typical Bollywood movie. The first movie that came to my mind was Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham. It is a great movie. The songs are pretty awesome. However, you can’t deny that there are some real basic issues with the movie. AB being so rigid. AB was a billionaire and his wife needed permission to do everything. Rahul never realized that Naina loved him. Well these are the ones pointed from the first couple of minutes of the movie. Also drama is not my favourite genre. I love comedies and there are a lot of them that I keep seeing endlessly. Yet, I know the dialogues of this movie. And that day I had this intense urge to see it – just to refill my quota.
I am not saying it is a good or a bad thing. I am just saying that we all are brought up amongst all this. Family stories and family values are something that are quite natural to all of us. We may not love that but we can’t deny it being a part of us.
Probably that is why I take some moments off my sleep and do things like writing this blog and then tell it in the office tomorrow for the reason for my sleep deprived state – for – thoda drama toh banta hai boss!

Sunday, September 16, 2018

Guys and their hair

I love my hair. For the love of God and Satan combined, I do. I don’t care if I don’t wash my face one day but I care deeply if something happens to even one strand on my head. I like them long and strong. Of course it means that I try a lot of oils and shampoos. Sometimes, actually most times, it doesn’t help. But then again often I wonder what would I do with my long hair? As in currently I do have sufficiently long hair but every time I wash them, I don’t have any option but to keep them open or to tie a braid. Those are the times when I really wonder if I would like my hair short.

This thought came to my mind thanks to my Gym Instructor. He has normal boy cut hair but every day he keeps on doing something to them. Sometimes he will gel them up to become square shaped. Other days he supports a slanted-hill or what I prefer – a Johnny Bravo look. Sometimes he will cut his hair real short from the sides and let them be as it is. Other times he will keep asking how his hairstyle is and I have totally no clue what is different. I do agree that the way he keeps his hair makes a lot of difference to his overall appearance. Some days he looks quite young and not so young on the others. Yet I have seen his devotion to keep his hair in the perfect style throughout the day. When I need to defend my laziness, I would say that his hair is shorter so he can do it. However ever since I have noticed him, I started noticing guys in general fussing over their hair.

One day I was going to my office in the office bus and I see this car at the signal. There is a little traffic and there is a little guy and probably his father in the car. The child is dressed in school dress. He is so calm and composed. He has no issues with the traffic or concerns of getting late for his school. He was busy setting his hair. I am not even sure if we had mirrors in my school but certainly times have changed since I have left school.

Speaking on the same note, my office bus driver – well, sometimes he is fresh, sometimes he is talking on phone, sometimes he is listening to music and other times he is wearing chappals, supporting a just-out-of-bed look. Still he makes sure that no matter what, his hair is always perfect. I have never seen his hair look any different or out of place. His hair is always the same length and always set the same way.

An even more striking incident happened when I was at a wedding. The groom’s family had arrived and the girl’s younger brother and sister were ushering them into the hall. There was this crazy loud music and dancing. The welcoming rituals were just done and now the groom was walking into the main hall towards the stage. The bride’s siblings are walking behind him. The groom’s side people are dancing. Amidst all this, the bride’s younger brother is dancing and then stops, set his hair and then dances again. Not even sure why but this is what I saw.

Now when I see guys setting their hair, I cant help but laugh a little. At the same time I am still unsure what do I do with my own hair.

Sunday, August 26, 2018

Some Harry Potter things : How Neville became Professor

After the battle of Hogwarts, Aberforth had become a special advisor for the trio. They didn’t call him their friend since he always advocated the Devil and in his own special way, helped them to see the flaw in their actions.

However they didn’t anticipate that Aberforth was now accessible to many people. His name had helped him fet acquinted and respected by people. On one of their visits to Aberforth, Harry, Ron and Hermione found Neville in the drawing room. Neville had a couple of books in his hands and looked rather, well, Neville!
Neville’s tremendous display of courage at the battle had given him the confidence he had always needed. Proven to be a worthy son to his parents, now Neville had found in his heart the courage to pursue his dreams. He had returned to Hogwarts to complete his NEWTs and had received a minimum of E in all his subjects. His grandmother was happier than she could ever be. She admitted that all she wanted for her grandson was to be himself. Now that he didn’t feel that he needed to be like his parents or anyone else, she stopped telling him what she wanted. This didn’t mean that she stopped telling him what to do. Often she told him about how to take care of the plants that Neville had grown in his little garden at home. Despite knowing that she was not providing the best solution, Neville was still scared of not obeying his grandmother.

From Aberforth the trio came to know about Neville’s interest in teaching Herbology. After completing his time in Hogwarts, Neville had spent months meeting fellow Herbologists and sharing his knowledge with them. Over time he authored several articles that got published in different magazines. He had become a kind of celebrity in the field. It was more due to his involvement in the battle of Hogwarts and him being friends with the trio. This was now the reason why Neville was sitting in Aberforth’s home.
Neville often visited Hogwarts to take suggestions from Professor Sprouts on his articles. In honesty, he felt best at home in those greenhouses where he had first discovered himself and something that he was good at. Now when he wad finally doing what he loved, he was still not happy. Atleast not completely. He felt that his work was slowly becoming about making experiences and retelling tales enumerated several times earlier. What he wanted was a quiet life where he could do his research and at the same time help others find their love for the subject. Aberforth had suggested that he tried for the job at Hogwarts. 

Professor Sprouts had wanted to retire for sometime now. She had seen quiet a lot of things. She had taught a lot of students. After the battle of Hogwarts, she had started valuing her life significantly. Initially she tried quite a few different activities like broom riding, potion making and ground keeping. However she failed in all of them. She found her calling recently and it was time she took it up seriously. She had informed Headmistress McGonagall that she wanted to now travel the world and meet the different wizards and witches. Unable to find a suitable replacement, Minerva had always succeeded in agreeing her friend to extend another year.
Aberforth felt that the time was right when Pomona got the break she deserved and Neville got the opportunity he wanted.

Ron was more than happy to take this up with Percy who had now become the senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic. Ironically, the decree that Fudge had implemented that the Ministry can provide a faculty member if the headmaster or headmistress is unable to find had failed to do so.
Percy drafted the entire suggestion and Harry helped getting it approved by the Minister of Magic.

On a fine Tuesday evening, the trio and Neville answered a summon to the Headmistress’ office. Even though they were all sitting comfortably, the aura around Professor McGonagall was still the same. Sitting in front of her they were sure that they had done something wrong and had already started feeling guilty.
‘So the ministry is interfering with Hogwarts again?’ She said sternly, raising everyone to alert. She then smiled and gave a parchment to Neville. He read it quite unbelievingly. It was an offer for the post. ‘I do not need the ministry telling me about my students Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger. I do however appreciate your concern and willingness to help your friend. I wont be needing this however. It would be very kind of your Mr. Potter if you could return this.’ Saying so she handed Harry a parchment which was sealed with the Ministry seal. Later he came to know that she had returned the Ministry orders for Neville’s appointment at the school and instead given him the offer on behalf of the school directors. Now so much for crossing a toe out of line, the three were to return these to the Minister’s office, which seemed a well deserved punishment for not taking the easier approach.

No longer in the light of his elder brother, he was wise in his own ways and people were coming to see that. Soon he had become an important part of the Wizarding world. However, he preferred his quiet life in his home with the portrait of his sister. An additional portrait of his brother now stood beside this. Often the three of them chatted and introspected on problems at hand. Albus and Aberforth still had their disagreements often ending with Albus’s abrupt departure from the frame or Aberforth’s threat to bring down Albus’s painting. It was as normal as things could get and it was as wonderful as never since Percival’s arrest at the Dumbledore’s home.

Monday, August 13, 2018

Simply curious

I am not promoting or endorsing anything but I use this Wynk app to listen to music. Its got a fairly huge list of songs and I am more or less able to find all songs I want to listen to! It gets a little annoying with respect to the ads - ofcourse I can always pay to get rid of them!

Off late they have come up with this ad of theirs which displays when you open the app or while the ad is playing.. and its pretty amusing!



Now I am wondering if they already have lakha of people who have upgraded to their premium annual membership - why do they want others to do so as well?

I am not complaining about the ads here!! I just found it pretty amusing!
I mean from my point of view - I am getting the service I want with sometimes 30sec ads which can still be skipped - fyi Wynk team! Also I believe with their app upgrade, they have become a little rigorous with the ads. The frequency has increased. If lakhs of people have taken the membership, this increase is not quite justified. Secondly if lakhs of people have taken the membership then I assume that the ad is not relevant. People are not going to take the membership because an ad tells them to.

Anyways!! Something I found amusing so thought to share 😉

Friday, August 10, 2018

The life of Hermione Jean Granger Weasley :: The spinning toothbrush

In addition to being the Minister of Magic, Hermione was also the mother of two Weasley children who grew up with other Weasley children and three Potter children. It was such a struggle to ensure her children learned to make the right choice that she sometimes considered that being the minister was the easier than being the mother.

Worst happened when her husband took fancy of spending more time with his brother George as the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes became uncontrollably popular and Hugo started accompanying his father on frequent trips to the store.

While Hermione’s daughter Rose had taken after her, Hugo had somehow taken after Peeves - or so said Ron, his father. Hugo and Rose shared the room under the attic and Hugo gave a soaring competition to the ghoul in creating havoc. Even grandmother Weasley had modified her ancient magical wall clock to include a new action - ‘Doing something they should not’, where George and Hugo spent most of their time!! None the less he had grown up witty and loving. He had also inherited his grandfather’s love for the muggle artefacts.

Just before his seventh birthday, Rose and he had spent an entire month with their muggle grandparents. While coming back, Hugo had packed a lot of things that he did not carry while travelling to the place. Later under strict supervision of George Weasley, Hugo practiced to transform an electric toothbrush to an electric broom, with the help of Ron’s wand that he had helped himself with as Ron was sleeping.
A loud noise and the shake of the entire burrow was something that made everyone stop doing whatever they were. Arthur Weasley was the first one to reach Hugo’s room, from where the noise had come, and see the situation inside. A moment later he came out calmly to tell everyone that the situation is under control and it was all fine. Just as he had come, he disappeared back into the room and closed it - with magic as well as the new technology password lock Hugo was presented for his previous birthday by his muggle grandparents. It was not one lock but a combination of multiple locks. So someone would need to repeat ‘Alohomora’ a couple of times before the lock would open and this would be sufficient time for Hugo to clear away something that his sister, mother or grandmother should not see.

What Arthur Weasley saw made a smile grow on his face. The toothbrush had been magically engorged and spilling water all around while spinning at a tremendous speed. George was standing in a corner looking at the object spinning crazily in the room. His eyes sparkled like they had some idea as to its use. Hugo simply stood transfixed, unable to believe his own creation. Having spent his many years in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office, Arthur Weasley’s first reaction was of horror. However his retirement, George and his grandchildren had had a bad affect on him and had only spiked his spirits to experiment with muggle objects. Slowly a grin spread over his face.

The loud noise had not gone unnoticed and the voices from the room did not stop. A couple of minutes later Hermione decided to open the door anyhow. She was the Minister of Magic and if something was happening that shouldn’t, she needed to do something about it. She looked at her husband who had now woken up and was standing by her side. Taking his silence for approval, she started performing the counter spells to open the door. Ron however, had learnt to keep his distance from places where George might be involved.
The Wild noise inside had made the clicking of the locks almost inaudible. Every click only made Hermione be faster to reach the next one. She silently prayed that her son was alright in there and more importantly he wasn’t breaking any rule!

Hermione entered the room to find a wildly spinning toothbrush which was trying to clean everything and everyone inside. There was water everywhere. The ghoul was jumping in the attic to meet the rhythm that the brush was creating. Meanwhile, Arthur, George and Hugo were busy trying to spell the brush to tame it so that it follows their directions. So far, they had no luck.
In just one of these moments she wished that living in a muggle home where trace prohibited an underage wizard to perform magic was seriously better. She stood dumbstruck assessing the scene before her while Molly was shouting behind at the three people. She took Arthur and Hugo to get them cleaned and to ensure Hermione didn’t give them a hard time. George didn’t need telling. He had disapparated the moment he saw his mother. Molly Weasley had grown soft as a grandmother but she was still a very ferocious mother to her children and they didn’t step a toe out of line in front of her, atleast.
When Hugo left, Hermione saw something that he had dropped. It was a wand. She held her head in her hands not able to believe from where her son would get a wand. Then she realised that it was Ron’s wand. She looked at him, with anger. Ron, the only one in the room didn’t know where to look or what to do. Without any word, Hermione knew that it had been Ron’s carelessness that had caused the whole episode. She raised her wand slightly, pointing it right at her husband. A black flash shone and a second later there were streams of spiders following Ron as he sped wildly screaming ‘Blimey! Its school all over again! This woman is crazy! Sometimes birds and now SPIDERS!!’
Screaming, he ran out into the lawn to get away from the spiders as much as he could.


Friday, August 3, 2018

I did the unimaginable !!!!!

Life is all about extending your comfort zone.. going out there in the unknown and mastering it. It is very simple to do something you know but it is extremely difficult to make something you don’t know, simple. Well naturally, blogging is something that comes naturally to me. It gives me immense pleasure to pen down (type) my thoughts and let them generate a flow of imagination. Yet, sometimes.. just one of those times.. I like to venture into the unknown and do what I don’t usually do. This time, I did something really unimaginable!!

The story begins that due to some really amazing mobile network providers (sarcasm .. since such an entity doesn’t exist ) I am forced to keep two mobiles ( also due to the fact that my mobiles - both of them - can accommodate only a single sim card ). It keeps me on my toes to keep checking them and that is something really hard since I am quite forgetful. It also has its benefits - one I use for talking to other people; the second is a personal one - contains my games and the editor where I type this content. Anyways.. it started out being difficult but now I am quite accustomed to this.
Then one fine day our very old neighbours come to visit us. They are quite simple and humble people. They come for dinner and we talk like people did in the 1980s (no thanks to people using digital communication to keep their personal spaces quite huge to be impenetrable!)
Anyways.. so usually I don’t talk much using either of my phones. Even then the phones were in my room and I was in the dining area - cooking, eating, chatting and happy! When they got up to leave, it was quite late and dad offered to drop them to their accommodation. I went to bid them farewell and notified that there was an empty seat in the car. Greedy for more moments for sheer and simple happiness, I told my mom that I am going as well and sat in the car.

The entire journey to drop them to their accommodation and back was roughly twenty minutes. I merrily talked to everyone while we went and then with my dad while returning. Not even once did I feel that I am disconnected from the world. I was actually more connected than I had been in a long time.
Only when I came back home I realised that I had taken the trip without either of my phones - those phones I carry even to the washroom - those phones that have replaced most of my friends with contacts - those phones which have replaced my watches with digital timed display - those phones that have replaced my mother waking me up with alarms - those phones that are a part of everything I do - from writing this blog to listening to songs - from singing to watching news - every little to every major thing imaginable! And the best part - I realised that I am fully capable in their absence. I was also happy!

Yes, I don’t deny that I need these. For instance these phones provide me quick ease to talk to my grandmother who is some distance away. This phone also enables me to type out this content wherever I am and whenever I want. But I don’t want to be smart because the phone I hold is a smart phone! It should be the other way around.

So yes - I am glad that I did something that most of us usually don’t do. I found happiness without any digitalisation.

Thursday, July 19, 2018

Writes of what to write and what not to write

Recently reading a lot of emails (because that is what I do), I realized that there is no correct or incorrect way to perform written communication. If you are a student, all the letters that you have written and the formats that you have learnt, apparently you shall forget them as soon as you start working i.e. be of age of actually writing those letters. Also, there is nothing like US or UK format. There is simply no format.

When I spent a couple of minutes browsing through different emails, there was something more that I realized. The closing or every mail changed a lot. It is similar to how we take home the climax of a good movie. Similarly, the closing changes the tone of the email.

Here is a list collated from the ones I saw -
  1. Regards
I am not sure how this came into being a part of the business communication at all. Imagine all the mails where you are berating the other or demanding explanation yet you finish the email with Regards. Another comical example is applying sick leave on email and then ending the same with Regards. Right, you are the one who is unwell yet you would like to show Regards to others. However this is the safest option as it is a mildly happy emotion. There are no expectations from this and neither any strong sentiments reflecting from the same.

  1. Sincerely
Never used in the real world! Sincerely, if I recall was to make the tone formal. Writing any business email and then ending it with Sincerely ensured that the tone of the email remained formal and business meaning. People were supposed to know that you meant business and that you are sincere in your approach. However this has never been used even once in any email that has passed from my sight in the past nearly four years of my experience.

  1. Best Wishes
Seldom used in quite jovial mails. This is like 'Regards' but in stronger sentiment. Imagine firing someone and ending it with 'Best Wishes' - almost like you are wishing him/her away. This is showing that the sender is simply too happy. And trust me, happiness is not an emotion that your boss likes. He is soon going to sense your happiness and burden you with more work. So no Best Wishes.

  1. Cheers
Now I have seen a lot of people from other countries posting some info or a very neutral email and ending with Cheers. While Cheers always seems to lighten the mood, it never makes sense to write your name after Cheers. That totally shows that the sender is drunk and takes Cheers to a totally different meaning.

  1. Thanks
This is totally the safest option of them all. From applying for leave to berating someone, thanks can be used everywhere. Depending on the reader, it can be conceived as ending the conversation or putting you as a humble person. When in doubt, go with Thanks!!

  1. Mixed Tone/ Multiple closing notes
Horrible choice! Never go for it! Often people will mix two notes which don’t match each other. That makes the situation disastrous. Other times having long closing notes or multiple line closing notes makes the email content smaller than the same. So unless you are totally sure - totally not advised. Topic closed!

  1. No closing note
Why? In a world full of words, you don’t even find one for yourself? It often makes you sound rude and changes the tone to be angry. Avoid it unless you can afford it.

  1. Love
Never appeared anywhere else other than the formats written in school. Won't appear either. Don’t bother yourself.

  1. Short forms or abbreviations like Thnx or Regds
Like who stole your vowels? How much extra calories are you going to burn typing those extra alphabets? You know right that signatures can be saved and configured to be attached to mails automatically? Did you know you were sending an email and not an sms?

  1. Take Care
Becomes too good will seeking. Read passage for Best Wishes.

  1. -Name
Right! We could have never guessed your name unless you wrote it. This is only useful if you have a long name - like really long and you are working with people from other regions as well who might have difficulty pronouncing your name or your name is too long to write. Only then it is acceptable to sign your name or short of it to ensure people know what you like to be called. It is also better than nothing. In general sense, not a too preferable practice.

  1. Yours
What? Freaking complete your sentence/phrase/sentiment and then I will complete mine.



Some other humorous closing notes that I found on the internet -
  1. Sent from my iPhone / Sent from BlackBerry
Flaunting your phone/ application? Would the content change if you sent it from desktop?
It explains away brevity and typos—who’s at their best when typing on a phone? But it also conveys that you don’t care enough to do away with the default email signature that came stock with your device’s email app.
Some people get creative with this signature. A few fun (if not necessarily business appropriate) examples found round the Internet include:
  • My parents wouldn’t buy me an iPhone so I have to manually type “Sent from my iPhone” to look cool
  • Sent telepathically
  • Sent from my laptop, so I have no excuse for typos
  • Sent from my smartphone so please forgive any dumb mistakes
  • I am responsible for the concept of this message. Unfortunately, autocorrect is responsible for the content
  • Sent from my mobile. Fingers big. Keyboard small.
  • iPhone. iTypos. iApologize.
  • My phone can’t spell for crap.

Stopping Time


Why won't you stop?
Why won't you just listen?
I need a moment
Or maybe more
Till it all sinks in

From the moment that I started
With you as my constant companion
A shadow in the watch
A friend, sometimes a foe
An observer in oblivion

Till the highest of peaks
And deep into the oceans great
In school, in the mall
In office, in my hoe
Like a pendulum, you gyrate

Breaking me from within
And teaching me to move on
You are the teacher, I yearn for
When I reach out
You are long gone

O Time, yet again I plead
This is one moment that I need
The moment when you freeze
This moment in sorrow or in glee
Will never tend to cease or be freed

I need this moment to catch a breath
To sit in quiet and retrospect
To just stop running for a while
All I need is a moment to smile
And I plead and inflect

One challenge after another
Sometimes more than one at a time
I have fared through it all
Sometimes taking a toll
Other times with a shine like dime

Today is not any other day
The words fall short for what I have to say
Wanting a moment is a wish
Waiting for a shooting star, under
The starless night I lay

A moment for me
A moment for you
If you stop, the moment anew
Hold my hand, let me walk you through
When you stop, the moment comes true!

Tuesday, July 3, 2018

The precious Elbow

Once or twice now, I have asked people to wear helmets. When they were only travelling the nearby areas, they felt helmet was unnecessary and it is only required when travelling long distances. Further if you insist that helmets should be worn even for the smallest of distances being travelled on road, they would reply that they drive carefully.

Well, to all those people and everyone who thinks similarly -
1. Helmets are for the protection of yourself - specifically your skull. The traffic police personnel who fined you for not wearing one or I, who keeps bothering you with such trivial information, have nothing to gain from you wearing a helmet. Trust me.
2. I certainly believe you are careful and drive safely. The same can not be said truthfully about every other vehicle driver on the road. Unfortunately.
3. Helmets will protect your skull even if you are seated in the rear. So if you have a skull, helmets are mandatory. If you have a spare, you are exempted Lord Raavana.

But helmets can be really annoying if I want to talk to someone with me or especially in summer time! True!
Use the public transport or pool a car with friends. I can guarantee no public transport requires you to wear helmets. Some of them will have ACs to help you fight the summer. They will cost you less or equal to what you spend while using you two-wheeler. Moreover, public transport will take away a lot of your issues - wearing a second shirt Over your office clothes, tan over your exposed arms, gives you extra time to read or catch up on your favourite show/movie, gives you chance to meet new people, takes away your tension about your parking spot getting full.. and more. All this at the tempting price of only two disadvantages - you will need to carry perfume at most times and you will need to careful about your belongings.

It is not the case that nobody wears helmets. Almost everyone has and carries them. However, to my utter astonishment, many people find themselves safer securing their elbows instead of their heads. Now i have heard of brains being in the knee joints but God knows what hidden treasure is there in the elbow joints (sometimes my elbow joints pain.. maybe the treasures are growing beyond capacity). Weirdly we only aim at protecting one elbow. Not sure how someone finds the exact elbow where their treasure is. What if they are wrong? What if they meet an accident and their other elbow breaks and the treasure gets lost? More importantly - why only elbow?? A person has 206 bones.. many joints I don’t know the count of.. other organs and muscles.. what about them?

On a serious note.. I am cursed with travelling to Gurgaon from Delhi for the past three and a half years. Taking the Delhi-Jaipur highway, I have seen several accidents. Some as they happen.. other leaving the road bloody. Seen headless corpses. Tick. Seen a man being hit by a truck and die on spot. Tick.
Worst of all I have seen how the buses or travellers drive on the highway. Most of the drivers are none the less experts in navigating the bus through spaces enough for a nano car. This becomes more a reason to be cautious when you dare to drive on the same road.


Well even after everything you believe that your hairstyle is important than some weird safety measure, trust me hair will grow (or wear a wig) as long as you have a skull. Without a skull, it is very difficult to style and flaunt your hair!

Tuesday, June 26, 2018

A wedding to attend

Some twenty years ago I lived in a small town called ‘Mandi’. It is a quiet and lesser knows towns in the picturesque state of Himachal Pradesh. The city is near to the very famous Kullu - Manali stations and IIT has opened in the district. Other than the above two, there is simply nothing out of the ordinary.
I was here a great while back. The memories I have of this place are all of daily life - visit to the temple, visit to the market, celebrating festivals in the colony, pretending to be detectives in school, eating, celebrating local festivities, and the other memories that my parents have implanted in my mind from the stories heard and re-heard a countless times.

Yet Mandi remains to be one place I feel at home. It is one place that I am always eager to see. Every time that I am here, it feels like I had never left. I don’t know everyone here and I constantly get the facts incorrect. The feeling still doesn’t recede.

Today I am here to witness a wedding. Wedding of our then neighbours’ son. My parents love these people. Apparently they had been wonderful while we were here and I am supposed to have countless memories with them. They have also stayed in touch for the twenty years - sufficient time for anyone to forget the other.
The wedding is a simple affair. These people are rich but this is not the rich wedding that I am used to. This wedding was rich but in some other manner. It was rich in emotions, rich with happiness and rich with people who genuinely were there to spread happiness and bless the couple.

And this is what makes Mandi unique. Everyone here is genuinely happy about the wedding. The bride and the groom (or at least one) knows every person present to witness the matrimony. Instead of investing in decorations or the number of dishes for every function, the family has ensured that no guest remains unattended. They are spending as much time with everyone as possible. People are genuinely welcoming you as you meet and greet them.
There is music. The groom ensures that his to he better half doesn’t feel lost in the swarms of people from his end. He ensures to meet the family from her side. At his home, the groom is busy getting the room decorated for all the girls to get their selfies clicked. The food is simple and delicious than being large number of dishes with the task to find one to eat.

And don’t misunderstand me! Its not like the decorations were not there. Being a small town populated on both banks of Vyasa river, the decorations of the house or of the banquet hall were visible to anyone and everyone in the city. For anyone in the town, it was hard to miss that the wedding was happening. They house shone brighter than the brightest star in the sky. On the day of the wedding, everyone marched to the main market where the procession gathered and people danced. It was like the whole city was there. And don’t even ask about the fireworks! The fireworks were magnificent and continued for so long that everyone in the neighbouring towns must also gave seen them.
It was a wedding anyone would love to have!

Of course there were exceptions! You are to find them everywhere. The exceptions tried to make space for themselves removing the others aside. But unlike what I am used to, they didn’t try to ruin anyone else’s moment or anyhow create problem for the bride or the groom.
It was the first time when I saw the groom’s father stand outside his home for all the days of the function to welcome everyone. It was the first time I saw the groom’s father check all the arrangements done by the caterer since the bride’s family was not local and they had paid for the arrangement. It was the first time I saw the groom’s father go and hug his son and daughter in law when she climbed the stage. It was the first time when I saw the groom’s family scolding the hotel staff for not attending to the bride’s guests. It was the first time the family introduced their other samdhis with a pride not paralleled. It was the first time for a lot of things.
Moreover when I was leaving Mandi, we went to bid farewell to the family, I had tears and it felt like I was the one being bid farewell from my house than the bride.


It was not a wedding but an experience that is going to be treasured forever.

Monday, April 2, 2018

A Pointed Revenge



The National Capital City of Delhi was in a state of shock. There were six murders in different parts of the city, each seemingly with no connection to the other. Somehow the media had caught wind of the happenings, making matters worse.

Dr. Nalini Mehta was found hanging in the living room of her lavish home in Paschim Vihar. She had started her career as an intern doctor at a Government Hospital. Her brilliance and connection with the right people saw her become Chief Medical Supervisor at PMO, post her retirement as the Director General of the Ministry of Health.
‘Divorced. Lived all by herself. Children working in America.’ Informed the constable who had received reports from Nalini’s background check. The Sub-Inspector nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on the body now lying on the floor. This cannot be suicide, thought Sub-Inspector Jayant. Nalini was doing well in her professional as well as personal life. Yet the maid found her hanging when she came this morning. The maid had also informed of the large amount of money that Nalini had brought home, which was now, missing.

Vikas Bhalla had retired as secretary of Ministry of Home Affairs and now worked there as a consultant. He had bought all four flats on one floor in a high priced Apartments in Chattarpur, one for each of his children and one for himself.
This morning when his eldest son went to check on him, no one answered the door. He got worried and called building security. They broke the door to find the couple lying in bed, throats slit open. It was apparent that they were killed in their sleep. There was no sign of struggle or an open window.
Inspector Nitesh, who usually reported to his office at ten, was at the Bhalla residence at eight in the morning, fully awake and in charge of the incident.

Akhil Prasad had retired as secretary of Ministry of Urban Development, having previously served as secretary of Ministry of Labour and Employment. He managed his positions well and came to be known as the secretary who completed most housing projects. Post retirement, he refused to join back. He actively worked in an NGO providing relief in Disaster struck areas for a couple of years before opening his own NGO. With his connections and experience with the Government, his work was soon noticed and appreciated. He won several public accolades and titles.
Akhil’s daughter and grand-daughter Nisha had come to live with him and his wife at their house in Asiad Village. Today morning, when Nisha woke up, she felt dizzier than usual. When she cleared her head and moved around the house, she let out a shrill scream at the sight of her mother’s pale body lying on the sofa. The television was switched on to a channel that she might have watched at night. Her grandparents were in the same state in their bed. Sensing that something was wrong, she gathered the neighbours for help.
Inspector Nishant was soon at the scene. His medical team soon found huge amount of poisonous gas that had been induced into the house through Air Conditioners. Nisha had decided to open the window at night, thus, surviving the attack.

Inspector Jayant had not progressed much. Nalini had some big connections and her mysterious death had created a sense of insecurity amongst many influential others. The pressure to resolve the case was increasing every minute and even when the inspector had spoken to her colleagues, her maid, her children and her neighbours, he had absolutely nothing to report.
Jayant was on the call with the commissioner for the fourth time since morning. He cut the call, when he heard some commotion around the entrance of the house. He saw a plump woman with brown eyes, wearing an apron and carrying a rolling pin, trying to enter the house. She appeared to be in her late thirties. From her appearance, Jayant tagged her as one-of-the-nosy neighbours. She kept asking for a muffler. When Jayant asked her clearly, she said ‘This lady was standing down the road yesterday, waiting for cab. She was cold and so borrowed a muffler from me. Today I saw in news that she died. How will I get my muffler back?’ The lady started sobbing. Jayant didn’t care – it was news to him that Nalini took a cab when she always travels in her office car. He welcomed the lady inside who was suddenly very interested to tell him all the details that she remembered.
When Kamla, the neighbour, left, Jayant had a big smile. He saw her leave for a moment and then immediately took out his phone. He had a murderer to catch.

Inspector Nitesh was able to locate the knife used to commit the crime. The ordinary kitchen knife was thrown out of the window. The forensic report will take a long time but the blood stains were sufficient to mark it as an evidence. Vikas’s driver had not reported that day. Nitesh had followed this lead for more than two hours, only to find that the driver was admitted to a hospital for dengue. He was frustrated when he saw a lady in black suit, walk out of the elevator on Vikas’s floor. She had flaming orange hair and a pale white face. Her black eyes stood distinctly in her otherwise colourful appearance. She walked up to Nitesh and shook his hand, introducing herself. She claimed to be Vikas’s physician and unaware of the incident.
She informed that Vikas had called in last night and reported disgestive troubles. She had prescribed him some medicines and advised to take some milk.
After a couple of minutes into the discussion, Vikas’s mind was bursting with the solution to the case. As Dr. Nidhi Shashtri left, he fired directions in all directions. He had nearly solved the case.

If hell had broken lose, it had to be here. Nishant had heard of the other two murders and earlier thought that they were connected. It is always better to have a serial killer; you always get more time to investigate. However, when he had spoken to Jayant and Nitesh, he was displeased to know that they had found the killer. There was no one to talk to except the maid or the granddaughter who was in shock.
He was making futile attempts of talking to the neighbouts when a lady walked upto him and introduced herself as Akhil’s psycologist. She was a tall woman with thick brown curls. She had deep blue eyes and wore a lot of funky jewellery. She seemed quite disturbed with the news and was holding a file. ‘Akhil did seem disturbed lately. I was supposed to meet them yesterday but I got stuck at work. I got free after one in the morning and stopped by on my way to home. There was no answer to the doorbell so I left. I wish I’d been there earlier. It might have made all the difference. So all I can tell you is why he was murdered.’ The lady’s last few words took Nishant by surprise. He forgot all about the points he intended to verify about the doctor’s story and provided her his maximum attention. She agreed to talk to him but only in private.
Nishant was holding the file that the Dr. Jennifer had left with him. He opened the file and closed it shut, symbolic for the case that he would close soon.

After hours of silence, Commissioner Choudhary’s phone kept ringing. His officers had cracked the cases. They were simple enough now that the picture was complete. Nonetheless, Delhi Police (and he) deserved a lot of praise for solving them in a remarkable time.
He was picturing his media statement for the next day, when his phone rang. Apparently the CBI was interested in the case. His dream of a long-awaited promotion began to shatter. Then again, this could be a meeting to highlight his involvement and materialize his dream.

All the men felt extremely happy and confident standing in front of CBI Senior Inspector Ravi. In less than a day, the able officers of the Delhi Police had solved the cases.
Ravi took their reports and read them. ‘There was no connection between the deaths?’ asked Ravi without taking his eyes off the last report. ‘None. Except three of the murdered persons held positions of significance in the Government departments. The other murdered victims are their family members.’ Replied the Commissioner proudly. There was some credit for the Delhi Police in store and he was not letting the CBI take it away. Ravi ignored the Commissioner, kept the report down and walked over to Sub-Inspector Jayant.
‘Would you mind telling me as to why did you direct your investigation towards the cab company?’ Ravi asked with utmost interest. Eagerly waiting for his moment to shine, Jayant started spinning his tale ‘No one at Nalini’s home or office could provide any details. She was always surrounded by people except when she travelled. On checking records in her office we found that she used a cab to commute the day before her demise. We got the car number from the register and tracked the car. We traced it to Atul in Dwarka, who also seemed to have five lakh rupees cash at his home. It became apparent that Atul saw Nalini bring cash home. The rest is obvious. When Atul was caught, he confessed.’

Ravi sighed; it had been the last response that Jayant anticipated. Ravi moved over to Nitesh and asked ‘How did you find the suspect?’
Nitesh displayed all his teeth and spoke ‘Vikas and Neeta were known for their social status. They were also known for being creatures of habit. Every alternate evening they would buy milk from a nearby milk booth. That day someone drugged the milk which they consumed. The man then entered the house, took the jewellery Neeta had worn the previous night and killed them in cold blood. The milk booth vendor identified two men who were present at the booth around the time Vikas and Neeta had bought the milk. Tracing them both, we found Chandan, who lives in the nearby slums. He was drunk unconscious on his bed and there was the necklace in his pocket. Later he confessed to his crimes.’
Still looking down, Ravi moved to the last. He didn’t need to ask as Nishant began his heroic tale – ‘The gases found in the house were nitrogen and carbon-di-oxide. Both components are used in packing. We found a shop in ShahpurJat that was closed on petitions by Akhil’s NGO. The shop had employed many under-aged children. The petition not only brought the shop to close but caused bad reputation for the franchise. Kshitij - The manager for the shop got sacked and committed the murder for revenge.’

‘Are you all sure that this is all there is to report?’ Ravi shouted at the three of them. They looked back in confusion. Ignoring them, Ravi continued ‘Three significant government officials get murdered within hours and you tell me that this is not planned or connected.’
They had obviously thought about this but when the suspects confessed to their crimes, there is no reason to look any further.
Ravi spoke, as if reading their minds, ‘If all the suspects became cooperative as to confess to their crimes, I would highly worry about my job. Now tell me – any other person or incident, no matter how small.’
‘Well, the counsellor came to see Nisha. Nisha seemed a lot better after that’ Nishant said. Ravi’s eyes gleamed. He looked at Nishant, eager for more information. Nishant started ‘A doctor had come from the Vilas Hospital to talk to Nisha. She was a very young and friendly woman.’ ‘Dr. Jennifer, Vikas’s psychologist visited the crime scene.’ Nitesh added. Everyone looked at Jayant who mentioned about the neighbour wanting her muffler back.
He didn’t want names. Ravi had seen them to be fake. He asked them to get these women sketched. This was the connection – a lady at each of the crime scenes. Also, why weren’t these women mentioned in any of the reports?
When Ravi grilled the able officers again, they broke and revealed how the nosy neighbour told Jayant about the cab. Nitesh told that Vikas’s physician had discussed how contaminated food samples had caused an emergency in her hospital the previous night, which got her delayed. She also mentioned that she had advised him to take milk. Finally, Nitesh confessed that the psychologist had brought him a file which had article clippings of Akhil’s work These were records that Akhil maintained of disturbing events related to his work.

When the sketches were ready, they were of three very different women except all of them had a extremely pointed noses. A voice inside Ravi’s mind told him that these three women were connected or were the same person. The officers were trying to contact the women they had met but had failed so far. All the names and visiting cards turned out to be fake or borrowed.
He liked challenges though. Ravi decided to dig the past and find a connection. Only that would now lead to the clear future.

Sandhya walked down the dark corridor for one last time. No matter how hard she had tried, the end was inevitable. The orphanage was closed and uninhabited for a couple of months. It would be broken to ruins the next day.
She was fourteen when she had first stepped into the building. Her parents had died in a car crash and her aunt refused to take her in. Uncle John, the caretaker of the orphanage, was a great person. He encouraged her to study and become a psychologist. She was an intern in Chennai when Uncle John passed away – or so they made it look.
The orphanage received its grants from a trust. It would have had a bad fate if it hadn’t been for Uncle John. He constantly fought with the trust to get the best for the children. He educated all his children and inspired them. As a result, most children during Sandhya’s stay had found good jobs and were settled. Having settled, the children would keep in contact with Uncle John and help other children follow their footsteps.
It was all going well until two girls disappeared. Uncle John left no stone unturned to find them and to seek Government’s help for the same. Fifteen days later, the two girls were found dead at a construction site. It was evident that they had died of assault. Yet the deputy director general from Health Ministry denied any such case. The labour ministry gave a statement that the girls had come looking for a job and died in an accident. The home ministry found this incident very upsetting. No one took notice that the members from Home Ministry and Labour Ministry were in the trust. Indeed they were the ones who had long conversations with the children during their visit to the orphanage.
Unable to bring any justice to his children, Uncle John sought help of the children who had left the orphanage. When the matter caught fire again, the newspapers reported that Uncle John passed away in his sleep. A new caretaker was appointed by the trust and the orphanage soon became a hub for all sorts of illegal activities. Less than an year ago, the trust decided to close this orphanage as it was ‘no longer safe for children’. Only if irony could kill!
Sandhya pulled out the most peculiar assortment of items from her bag and placed them on a pyre in the courtyard. The items were a thick bun wig, false cheeks, a dirty apron, flaming orange hair, a black suit, some rings and bracelets, two pair of contact lenses, a brown curly wig, a white kurta and blue jeans. She opened her bag and took out a wet tissue to wipe off the wrinkles off her face. As she threw the tissue on top of the pyre, she looked years younger than she had the whole day.
It had taken her ten years to get here. Ever since the Uncle John’s demise, she knew that only well placed people make a difference. She worked hard each day and became the best in her profession. She got employed by one of the best Government hospitals. Other than her job, she would often volunteer as a counsellor for the under privileged occasionally. It took her sometime to identify Atul, Chandan and Kshitij. They were identical in many aspects – alcoholic and abusive. Their family members had often come to her for counselling and help. She decided to meet them. In a couple of months, she was able to hypnotize them and what-she-called reprogram them. They were filled with hatred, waiting for the moment to strike their targets. Also, she had got them to sign an organ donation form – which was her way of making them repay to the society. On the right moment, she programmed them to strike. It was all planned.
Sooner or later the police would find the connection to the orphanage. It wouldn’t matter. The orphanage land had been reclaimed by the Government and the building would be collapsed the next day. Let them come, let them find whatever they may. The past was buried just like the fate of the orphanage.
Sandhya sat down by the fire in the cold December night. She finally pulled out the extremely pointed nose and threw it into the pyre, before setting it on fire. She watched the last remains of Kamla, Dr. Nidhi Shashtri and Dr. Jennifer, characters she had worked on for months, turn to ashes.
The police may find her someday but for now, she had the pointed revenge.

A little drama is required

Being an Indian, I can totally bet that you can just never get enough of drama. You may hate it yet you can’t escape it. I think that w...