My second shot at story writing.

On a wonderful weekend afternoon as Ravi’s closing eyes prepare for its first dream, a sudden buzz cuts it short.
Hey Ravi, this is Sid, what are you doing man?”
“Hey Man, I am just preparing to sleep, anything you need?” – says Ravi.
“Get up you lazy log, Come out and see the weather. We will go for an ice cream. come quickly. I am taking out my bike. ”
“Ok”- says Ravi, a little reluctantly.
As he starts getting ready to go out, a number of places cross his mind. He thinks that the bakery shop around the crossing would be wonderful, but no, that distance is too short for a bike trip in a wonderful afternoon. Probably they can go to the stylish, newly opened ‘ice cube’ which serves quite delicious flavors. But that is a little distance away. Sid may not agree to ride that far. He negates that option as well. We will decide that on the fly. He says to himself.
“Vroom”… Sid’s machine roars.
“Where are we going?” asks Sid.
“Wherever our vision stops”, Ravi says smiling.
“Ok, let’s roll then.”
They start. They move and eventually they ride past all the corners where vision could have stopped. Their favorite hangout also passes by the side but they don’t stop. Finally they hit the lonesome highway where nothing except the moaning of the amplifiers is heard. And then they stop, but not on their wish but over the wish of their machine.
“What happened?” Ravi asks from back.
“Don’t know, I think some problem with the engine.” Replies Sid.
“Was your bike not serviced?”
“Yes, it was”
“Something must have happened.”
Whatever happened, one thing is sure, we are not going to find any mechanic, forget about the purpose we started for.” Ravi said quite mockingly as they start pushing the bike further.
Why did he come out with this guy? He could have simply taken a weekend afternoon nap. Thinks Ravi. All the plans he made while he was coming out made him angry, annoyed, and dejected with himself, with Sid, with whatever machines that overtakes them echoing their amplifiers. He decides he will never come out with Sid again. No planning, always trouble inviting. His bike also inherits his master. That’s it. Out of pure frustration he stops. Sid’s repeated attempts to push the bike till the nearby tree goes in vain. They stop together and a deafening silence comes to engulf them with no ideas coming to their rescue.
“You need some help?” suddenly, Ravi hears it from nowhere. He lifts his head to see two young boys, probably in their early teens, shirts button less, tied with a string, and trousers soiled, hair covered with dust, having a stick and a ball made of plastic bags in hand.
“Can we get a mechanic nearby?” Ravi asks them.
One of them tells him that they could find one if they can push the bike to some distance. Ravi throws out this idea as well. Seeing this, the boys ask if they could push the bike while Ravi and Sid can follow.
They agree and start walking down. After walking quite a long distance, they arrive at a place where it seemed they could get some help. They bring an old man from somewhere who starts mending the bike. After spending quite some time the old man finally succeeds in starting the bike.
A sudden gust of fresh air comes and hits their faces. They could suddenly feel the air of relief within. As they prepare to start, Sid calls the boys and takes out the wallet. One of them comes forward and points a finger across the road. Sid moves his head to see an ice-cream trolley. He moves and quickly grabs two stick and pulls out a hundred rupee note to pay.
“No change, ten rupees, sir”
And as he hands the ice cream sticks to them, Ravi and Sid sees their glowing faces. The boys start running to their home with their prized possessions as if it is a victory lap. They had never seen faces so happy, eyes so much thankful, expressions so much pristine. The frustration, the anger, the tiredness is gone in a flash. They could simply feel a sense of gratitude for coming so far, thankfulness for meeting two strangers, gratefulness for an event which ended in joy, for everything that created the day, for something which they thought could only make tongue a little sweeter but actually extended itself to make life much much sweeter.

Men do cry

Who said that men don't cry???

As we watch the curtains are drawn for Argentina when the referee blows the final whistle to conclude the event which many thought would be a final before the final but eventually turned out to be a one sided affair, we see the moist eyes of world's some of the greatest heroes, we see celebration and jubilation on one side and pain and dejection on the other.

This is not the first time I saw something of that sort but this is surely the first when I pondered over the reason.

For a split of a second I thought that "we" lost and the randomness of the sadness quotient chose us to be the victim which we boldly could not defy.We definitely could not stand before "The Beautiful Game" casting its magical spell, mesmerising with a magic wand and leaving us spellbound and speechless before moving to the next random victim to cast its spell to. And then we realize its the tune of the national anthem, its the color and pride of the jerseys, its the hopes and dreams of the millions and millions of people, its the anxious wait for the next, its the tiny reason to get appreciated, its the sheer love of the profession, its the struggle to prove the world which gets tied to a string which simply goes and binds the heart and finally disturbs the tear glands.

With this I take a bow to "The Beautiful Game" and its astronomical power to unite people of our planet who are separated by mountains, oceans , climates , cultures rituals and geographical boundaries. I hope it continues to unite and enthrall us in the future and as I sign out I wholeheartedly wish that when I get older , I will be stronger , they call me freedom, just like a waving flag...waving flag... waving flag......

My first shot at story writing

On a dusty summer afternoon, mama's weary eyes wait patiently for her Tintu to come back from school. It’s already past 1:30. Anytime she might hear the doorbell. But it’s not happening now. So mama switches on the television set to catch a glimpse of the afternoon soap. No, the concentration is lacking, the mind being still on the doorbell. She lowers the volume of the TV set in case it might distract her mind, still no calling-bell. Mama looks at the clock once again. The wait has been over 20 minutes now and she starts getting impatient. She cannot wait now and is eager to pull kiddie in her lap. Finally the wait gets over and the doorbell rings. Mama rushes towards the door and opens it. In a flash of seconds her wait turns into anger. She pulls Tintu by her ear and drags her inside the house.

"You have soiled your clothes like a dirty fellow.”

“What do you do in school? Always quarrel with your friends?"

"But mom!" she whispers.

"Stop! Don’t tell me anything. I am not going to listen to your excuses.”

“You are not going to have anything for lunch today. That’s your punishment. “

Tintu starts whimpering now, but mama is unmoved.

Her breaking voice only utters a single word 'tiffin'.

"Nothing, nothing, nothing for you today" and she pulls and locks her in the room.

The repeated banging of the door is heard; the whimper turns into violent sob. The sound gets fainter and fainter as Mama puts a pillow on her face and lie down on bed.

Deep in her thoughts, a sudden series of random events crosses her mind. The effort to put those pieces together totally engulfs her. There have been no cases like these earlier. Never ever it has happened that somebody has complained about Tintu’s behavior in school. On the contrary, everyone has been praising sweet little Tintu. What could have been wrong today? All the logic behind this still hovers in illusion when suddenly the telephone rings.

"Hello mam, this is Mary from Little Flower school. May I speak to Mrs. Dutta?"

"Yes, speaking".

"Mam, I have something to tell you. Tintu was not able to find her tiffin box during the break. She was able to find some five and half rupees after lot of searching and digging her school bag. With that precious little fund she queued up the school canteen to get at least something to eat. The rush at the canteen queue was too much for sweetie to cope up with. She just took one little bite from her precious possession when somebody pushed her when the food fell off her hand into the dress. So Mam, please don't scold her for no fault of hers. She has been such a nice and wonderful child. Thank You Mam ! "

A sudden clamor wakes her up. Being able to recollect the crazy little dream that nearly made her heart skip a beat; she rushes to the kitchen to find the packed Tiffin- box lying close to the oven. All the events start making sense. Taking a deep breath, she turned very slowly towards the locked door to fling it open. In every direction she could see Tintu whimpering. She found Tintu sleeping deeply in the far corner of the room. She quickly pulls her up and hugs her deep. She could barely stand, a sinking feeling totally arrests her and as she pulled her forehead and kissed, a sudden gust of emotion blows and tears starts flowing down her cheek.

A momentary flashback

Saturday afternoon.

Post lunch phase.

A clear monotony in the making.

To defy that ever increasing monotony of regular chores I try to sidestep. But nothing comes to my mind. So went to fourth floor roof just to hang around for sometime before evening beats the day. Believe me it was good. I wandered from one corner to the other just to see what is happening as I don't have any specific stuff to finish in that course of time. I fixed myself to one corner from where the road was visible. The noise was coming, not of the cars and bikes that passed by but of the woodwork that were going on at the adjacent building which was in its last phase of standing up. Blaring mikes were also heard from the white temple decorated with red and green triangular flags connected by a string. Groups of children were playing cricket and 'catch-catch' in a small vacant area very hard to call it a field. In this ever increasing brick forest the possibility of finding a field is slowly becoming zero. But that's not the point. The point is I fixed my eyes to the cricket match that was going along nicely to its peak of excitement with wickets made from broken slabs and bat discovered from woodwork shambles. This put me in a momentary state of flashback when after returning from school I used to roam around in our garden just to find three pieces of similar sticks big enough to convert them into wickets. And after successful discovery the play began...... We used to play till the ball was visible to the batsmen or as long as somebody from home showed up just to remind me that I would be late for the tuition that evening. The tuitions were not that bad and I really enjoyed them. I ad lot of friends coming there and we used to chitchat there when sir was busy watching the news on doordarshan. We used to talk any thing under the sun... right from the last century Sachin scored to the latest movie released.. to the latest cycle any of our friends bought to the smartest arithmetic problem we encountered in class. Things and events continued like that for some time. And then the division bell rang....

Friends started choosing the different directions that were available.... classmates and tuition batchmates got changed. This rippling effect continued and I found myself entangled in stuff that take could take me forward and one fine day I found myself packing my bags for a new life called hostel and things for me changed dramatically from there. I can recollect whatever happened from that day onwards till now.... but this half an hour rooftop experience and the flashback thereafter reminds me of time machine which can probably take me to the place I was thinking of and then try my hand at one round of batting....but alas!....I came back humming ...."give me some sunshine... give me some rain... give me another chance I want to grow up once again"

The show must go on....

Now good that you have started,lets just sink in.

Well... in that case what do we do in order to get this rolling?

"I don't know I don't know I don't know."

What???

"Its you who should give me ideas, its your job to combine the pieces that are somewhat illogical, somewhere hidden and sometimes illuminated and now you are telling me that you cannot.

Brother... you have put me in a very precarious situation... what will people think?"

stop man !

"Would you ever give me chance to speak?"

You need chance to speak???

wow!

spare me the horror........

Everytime I have given you chance you made people laugh.

Let people laugh....Laughter is their best medicine.

Hey.. dont think these cleverly crafted sentences of yours will intimidate me.

Life can only get better provided I wish... leave aside the dream.

We have seen morning tea supporting crew getting themselves changed from britannia marie to little hearts and the breakfast table colleagues getting changed from poori-bhaaji to hash browns.

Let me guess the reason for this......

Is it the gradual locomotion of human thoughtfulness or a purposeful broadcast of ascending annual compensation?

I think I don't know.

But what I know is this metamorphosis of caterpillar to butterfly or the reverse as we may see with respect to the reference frame we are in will not cease to happen.

What I know is we better be prepared to embrace this with whatever thoughtful and bountiful reasons we may think for it.

What I know is the seconds hand will continue to change degrees even if we do not wish for it.

What I know is disharmony will only open the door to perdition.

What I know is inquisition will only move us forward...

And what I definitely know is junk will only breed junk in the end.......

What say folks???

Ready Steady Go...

1st day of January 2010.... a very very happy new year......

As the whole world prepares itself to fight with the previous night hangover I chose to fritter and waste in an offhand way..... seems to me that in the whole story of distress at web there is no more catastrophic chapter than me trying to jot down some crap in the cranium. Fine .... let it be.....I will do whatever I feel as long as it is not affecting anybody...... correct? .. yes yes.. offcourse...

So what else?....

its a happy new year........what more do you expect from it?....

Timeout timeout....

can somebody please tell me what difference it would make other than sending some formality sms es to anybody and everybody...

Hey .... you might be thinking that this guy is a total loser, an earthbound misfit.... why to question when at least everybody is happy on one day......

yes...yes... you are very right..... I am just jotting down whatever comes to my mind....... Forget it....

Lets start the new year on a high note..... This could possibly or probably be a reason for me to be at least happy for one day.....Thats why all these fuss......

So...Life will continue to move further........dreams will continue to momentarily defy reason....pain will continue to linger.....memories will continue to dwell in our minds.....hopes will continue to give us strength.......milestones will continue to enthusiasize us....and ideas will continue to move world.

So..cheers guys.....today... all the points pondered were tactically or practically given the food and drink and hence gives me a reason to smile and say.. hey all......from today onwards I will continue to write whatever creepy crappy stuff comes to knock on the matter which is grey.....

till then ....wish you good luck and a happy new year indeed...........