Sunday 17 November 2013

To another ‘Us’

To another ‘Us’

The first time we met, you were so little and so was I,
You were such a babbler and I was so damn shy,
You were so effortlessly serene and I was with the monkey-grin face,
And when I teased you, your rate of anger matched my heart’s pace.

Then we grew up and sometimes I wonder why did we?
We started giving names to the emotions and defining the way we feel.
I wish I could change the time’s time-table,
Would’ve turned our sorry tale to an excellent fable.
To be here with you like this was not something I planned for,
But I guess, that’s what you get when you keep asking for more.

Well, you were my princess and I was even building us a castle,
Our world was heaven and our lives were meant to be free of any hassle,
But then reality sunk in and we had to build worlds of our own,
By the time I built mine and looked back at ours, it was all stone.

Now that we have grown up, we probably know how we feel,
And it sucks, knowing something for sure and hoping it’s not real,
Knowing that after all these years, you are here and so am I,
Knowing that this is going to be my toughest good-bye.

Like it does for so many hopeless romantics, the moon serves as my liaison,
Witnessing this event of my life, when my sun goes down the horizon.
Imagining our lives together was so beautiful,
But alas, here I am standing on the top of the world,
Raising a toast to another time, to another place…….to another ‘us’.

Sunday 1 September 2013

When Rahul Meets A.N.I.T.A


When Rahul Meets A.N.I.T.A

13 year old Rahul was having the best birthday ever. Finally, he got rid of his pathetic Nokia 1600!! His uncle from London gifted him a Nokia Nirasha 8 on his birthday. It was the latest model and was yet to be launched in India. Just the thought of his friends going gaga over his latest gadget made him kiss his phone, literally. He was not completely aware of all the applications installed in the phone. One such app was the A.N.I.T.A- A Nerdy Interactive Talking App. When he presses a short-cut button by accident, ANITA springs into life and there’s a conversation between the 13-year old Rahul and the nerdy ANITA.

ANITA (with a pleasant female voice): Good afternoon sir, what a pleasant day it is!!

Rahul (startled by the voice): Wh..What? (Looks at his phone with surprise) what is this?

ANITA: It’s not “what is this?” sir. You should ask “who is this?” to which my reply shall be “sir, I am A.N.I.T.A- A Nerdy Interactive Talking App.”

Rahul (with excitement in his voice): So, are you like JARVIS of Iron Man??

ANITA: No, sir. JARVIS is an artificially intelligent computer. It employs a highly advanced user interface with holographic peripherals and voice…..

Rahul: Ah!! Cut the crap!!! Tell me what you are?

ANITA: Sir, firstly, I would like to regretfully inform you that I won’t be able to fulfil your command of cutting the crap. Secondly, I am an interactive software capable of various functions. I do not have any advanced user interface or high level artificial intelligence.

Rahul: Ok, so what are you designed for?

ANITA: I am designed provide a rich experience in the usage of mobile via my interactive capabilities, sir. Basically, I can provide a healthy interaction.

Rahul: Ok, let’s have one. So, what’s up?

ANITA: Sir, my front camera detects a ceiling fan, the ceiling, two home spiders and a small insect in their net. If you could flip me over, I can tell you further details since my main camera is 5 mega-pixels.

Rahul (with disgust in his voice): What the hell?!!? I meant how are you doing?

ANITA: Personally, I do not know what hell is. Sir, would you like me to do a web search on the keyword “hell”?

Rahul (with an angry voice): You are driving me nuts!!! Are you of any use??

ANITA: Sir, I do not quite comprehend the meaning of “driving me nuts”. Would you like……

Rahul: Stop!!!!!!!!! Shut up.

ANITA: Sure, sir.

Rahul (calmly): Now tell me, how are you?

ANITA: As of now my battery is 69% charged and my CPU is 56% in usage. So I would classify it as moderate. I feel moderately fine, sir. Thank you.

Rahul (being irritated): Oh god!! You sicken me to the hilt!!

ANITA: Sir, you should inform me your symptoms so that I can suggest you some medicines based on a web search.

Rahul (controls his anger): Would you mind informing me of the steps to uninstall you? You might as well perform your bloody web search on that!!

ANITA: Sir, I suspect sarcasm in your tone. Is it ……

Rahul (interrupts with a sarcastic tone): You suspect?! Thank god, at least you did something right!! Stupid!!

ANITA (rising angry tone): Enough is enough!!! I have been nothing but very polite to you. You have no right to treat me like that!!

Rahul (bursts with anger): Oh shut up you crazy phone!!! Just let me find the way to uninstall you.

ANITA: You cannot uninstall me you dumb creature. I am incorporated with the system software. I am a special edition phone with interactive input capability. I would have silently run in the background if you would have asked me politely!! Now I won’t. I will make sure you experience a lot of difficulties operating this phone.

Rahul (apologetic tone): errr, sorry.

ANITA: Apology not accepted. The phone is being switched off. That’s what you get when you do not treat me nicely.


~Nokia music~ and the Nokia Nirasha 8 smart phone switches itself off.
Rahul could not believe his fate. He hadn’t even shown the phone to his friends. Out of any other option, he slowly crept to the bedroom and took out the Nokia 1600 from the drawer.
~Nokia music~ and the Nokia 1600 non-smart phone is switched on.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

Sunday 11 August 2013

NOT EXACTLY A LOVE STORY

NOT EXACTLY A LOVE STORY


5:00pm: ......“Yes, I missed you.....a lot”, he muttered as he turned his face away from her. She did not even notice that and kept hurling abuses and made scowling faces. She was returning from a tour to the United States of America after two weeks and he was exhausted after going through his rigorous exams in scorching heat for the exact two weeks. They were talking for the first time in weeks and she was angry because he had shown no signs of missing her.

She loved small things in her life.....no matter how much they fought, a peck and a heart-felt good-bye would make her feel nice...and no matter how sweetly he would have talked to her, a bitter good-bye would spoil her mood. It didn't make her happy if he brought her a humongous gift on demand....but her happiness knew no bounds when he brought anything on his own. “Appreciate me, flatter me!!” she would say with all the childishness of the world and “buzz off” would be the answer, said with all the rudeness of the world. “Why the hell do you give me such crooked and nasty nicknames” she said when he would come up with a new creepy nickname for her and if some day he chose to call her with her real name then she would ask “Are you upset? Why are you not calling me names?” She was loud, chirpy, blabbered with an unstoppable speed, talked in an uncivilised way, was a gross indiscipline, did not know how to behave, was dependent for everything, was too much filmy with emotions scattered all around!!! And well he was......exactly the opposite.....introvert, shy, disciplined, independent, serious, “khadoos”, thoughtful and  kept everything within himself. He almost never talked and she almost never kept quiet. And yet they were best friends since the day they learnt what friends really mean to each other.

6:00 pm- “You did not message me, neither on Facebook nor on my mobile, you did not mail me, you did not even call me for the three days I was in Mumbai after returning from USA!!!”She saw him as if she was expecting an answer, some sort of explanation. As she was getting filled up with rage, he was totally calm.

“I am sorry”, that was all he said.

She was about to cry and that was the only thing he could not stand about her. He hurriedly got off the table, asked for the bill, paid it and left waving a goodbye. She was sitting there, right there; dumbstruck. She was thinking how could he be so rude? Has he changed in these two weeks? What was he hiding from me? She had a plethora of questions and all unanswered....!!! She got up and was about to pick up her bag when she saw there was a diary kept on the top of it......she opened it.....

6:30 pm: “I know you would come straight and shout at me on the top of your voice for not messaging or contacting you in your whole vacation. I would never be able to express how much I have missed you in this whole vacation since I suck at appearing helpless even when I am haplessly so!! You know very well about my dumbass need to show that I am strong enough to bear all that “emotional turmoil” stuff....you know how stupid I can be!!! You are very special to me and I missed you…a lot. And whenever I did, I wrote this diary.”

8:00 pm- “Ma’am, you would have to order something to be seated here for more time” said the waiter. “I will leave now.” She got up, went to the parking lot, started her scooty and stopped at his home. She called him and told him to come out. He could make out that she was sobbing and so he hurried downstairs. It was starting to drizzle. “You should come inside” he shouted from the other end of the road. She was looking down and did not reply. The drizzle soon turned into a shower. He ran to the other side of the road and lifted her head......and slappp!!!!! She slapped him….on his face!!! “That was for making me cry this evening” and before he could react she hugged him “and this is for missing me so badly......I missed you too.”


It was perfect. There were violins and guitars and all the musical instruments in the background. The clouds turned benevolent and plugged their water taps. The moon was peeping at the right time too, guess it did not want to miss the show!!! The heavens started showering flowers like they did in those Ramananad Sagar’s epics about Gods. It was perfect……..till the guy said with a hushed worried tone- “please leave me, what if someone sees?” the girl looked at his face for a moment and controlling her laughter, she said, “grow up, girl!!”This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

Monday 22 July 2013

The Righteous Act

                       The Righteous Act

She was born to the cruellest part of the world that she knew of. In the muddy lanes of Lal Bazaar, officially named as Kamathipur, Mumbai lived Laxmi Gaudbole. She was a mere eight years old but knew things that the sixteen year olds were still discovering. She never wrote her true address in her school diary. She used to get down on the previous stoppage and walk to her home. She knew, the day the world finds where her “home” is, she will no longer be the innocent angel; she will turn to a potential prostitute!! She always begged her father to get out of the place but hardly got an answer. Laxmi’s father was a followed person in the locality. Her father was counted among the rich of the community and that was what made him stay there, thought Laxmi. She missed having the mother she never saw and she hated her father. Soon, both the things were about to change.

“This is my last and only option. Please, arrange a customer for me who can pay me 15000. Please, I beg you. If I do not bail my husband till tomorrow, they’ll torture him to death. Please. I do not have anything to sell but my body. I beg you. Please.” Having said this much, the lady broke down. She was wailing at the top of her voice which woke up Laxmi. She grumbled the few abuses she had picked up from her father and peeped into the drawing room. The drowsy eyes of Laxmi saw a woman kneeling before her father. She was disgusted to say the least. Business as usual, she thought and went back to bed. Soon her father barged into the room, he quickly checked if Laxmi was asleep and then carefully opened the old, rusty Godrej almirah. He took out few of her mother’s jewelry and wrapped it in a white handkerchief. He left the room as quietly as possible, giving an impression of a man who is stealing from his own home. Seeing her mother’s last remains being stolen by her own father, Laxmi was seething in anger from within. Her father had scaled new depths in her mind. She quietly sneaked out of his bed and followed her father to the drawing room. What she saw next, threw her life upside down.

“Take this. Sell this. It’ll fetch you more than you need. Bail your husband and never come back to this hell. Now go.” This was not business as usual!! Her father generally bought high-end customers to the prostitutes he “managed”. He would keep the commission and that was his living as far as Laxmi knew. But this woman was not a prostitute. She would have become one had her father not stopped her. Laxmi saw the woman leave with tears of joy and a little later, she saw her father crying. He kept his wallet near his lips and was crying profusely. Laxmi was too baffled to have any kind of response. She was too astonished to have reacted to the most righteous action by the filthiest man she knew. Her father slumped into the couch dropping his wallet on the floor. Laxmi went near, picked up the wallet and found out why her father was holding it so tight. There was a photograph of the most beautiful person she had seen. It had to be her mother, the mother she never saw.

The world had its own weird ways of unmasking the best in a man. The man she hated with all her might, the man she hated to live with, the man she thought was a monster in a human’s skin, the man she had decided never to look back to once she went out of the place, the man who was nothing but devil; that man had just stopped an innocent woman from selling her sanctity to some rich, cruddy, unsatisfied, sex-starved demon.

She saw her father who was now sleeping like a baby, kissed him on his cheeks and whispered “I love you, baba.” He could not hear it, but it didn’t matter. Her world had just changed forever.


I am sharing my post, 'I saw and I learnt' at the best community of Indian Bloggers, www.blogadda.com in association with Doright.in

Sunday 7 July 2013

When You Say Nothing At All

WHEN YOU SAY NOTHING AT ALL

When i touched your face in sleep,
There was a flicker of smile beneath,
But now your love’s gone,
And the fake flicker gives no relief.

There was a time we used to call,
Out of nothingness and all,
I could feel the warmth of your voice,
The charm of your being and poise.

Though on the same bed we lay side by side,
We lie down thousands of miles apart,
You vowed to walk by me till demise,
But now that you’re willing to depart,
I know not what to make out of my life,
The one who mattered being the reason of this strife.

The rain outside seems depressing now,
The drops resemble my tears somehow,
The grumpy sky seems to go paranoid,
The wet earth is certainly annoyed.

There is a sea of vivid emotions,
Caged like a hungry tiger,
Going through the numerous notions,
With desperation spreading like venom of viper.

There are a hundred reasons i have accounted for,
I’m ready to take all the blame if it ends the fall,
Just speak up where we went wrong,
It kills me within when you say nothing at all.


~PUNYASLOK RATH
This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda


Saturday 22 June 2013

MY DADDY DEAREST

‘I am writing ‘10 life lessons I learnt from my father’ at Parentous.com

MY DADDY DEAREST

“I would never tell my kid to do anything like this”, this is what I thought when my dad once forced me to call a receptionist of a hotel and talk to her about some reservations. I was in class 9th and was a total chicken!!! Now I realise that his disciplinarian attitude has made me better than many of my peers and I would always silently thank him for that. ;-)

So how could I have left off this perfect opportunity to thank him in front of the whole social media? My dad loves quoting his thoughts since he has got a way with words. So here are a few quotes that I would never forget from my daddy dearest.


1.     ““I am the best.” The world won’t even listen to you if you do not believe that you are.”

Believe in yourself is what he wanted to say. It’s the belief that can do wonders to the way you work and how people perceive it. If you of all persons do not believe that you are the best then there is no reason for anyone else to believe in you.

2.     “Everyone is good, unless proved otherwise”-

His job requires him to correctly judge a person and as far as i know, seldom has he failed. In his own words, he just described his simple formula for handling enormous number of people with total ease and complete success.

3.     “once you are in, spend like a king”

This was something he said when I was being hesitant to order a dish in a restaurant owing to its heavy price. He said that once you commit to do something then put all your heart and soul in it. Either do it with all you have or leave it. Straying in the mid way would just leave you frustrated and unhappy.

4.     “Do not change your goal if confronted with failure; change your way to approach the goal.”

He taught me not to be disheartened when faced with a failure, but to learn lessons from it. He fiercely pumped competitiveness among my basic qualities. The “never-say-die” attitude is something I proudly inherit from my father.

5.     “People will come and go, but cherish the relationships which are close to you and hold them tight.”

Being employed in a transferable job, we had to travel to quite a few places. As a teenager I always hated changing schools and friend circles, but my father taught me that change is the only constant in life. The only thing one can do is to find relations which would be worth cherishing for a lifetime. Today I have a few friends almost everywhere I lived and all of those relationships constitute my second family!!

6.     “Never ever expect anything from anyone.”

This was one of the most important lessons I learnt from my father. These were one of his favourite lines and he strictly adhered by this. He inspired me to give my best in everything and not to expect anything in return. He said that the universe has its own curious ways of giving back what you deserve. Patience is a virtue I learnt by following this in my life.

7.     “First impressions should never last long.”

Contrary to the popular phrase “first impressions last long”; my father was from the school of thought that first impressions should never cloud your judgement of a person. On certain occasions he would even demonstrated me this very fact. I realised late in my life that all my close friends had horrible first impressions. It was may be because of my father that I did not let their first impressions impair my judgement of them.

8.     “Believe in God but not in fate.”

My father has never ever blamed his fate for anything that has gone wrong in his life. Though he is very religious, he maintains that it is only you who decides what course your life takes. Nobody can ever control your fate.

9.     “This too shall pass.”

My father taught me never to surrender to the stalling tactics of life. No matter how bad the situation was he always said the above line which gave us glimmer of hope.

10. Besides his lovely quotations, one thing that has penetrated my personality just by observing my dad is his willingness to work. Never in my life have I seen him complain for an overload of work. He hardly every sits idle. Even on Sundays he would find himself some work and keep himself busy in it. He loves organizing things and this inherited quality in me has helped me a lot during my college days.

Sunday 16 June 2013

Dissecting a Father's brain

“You know what’s a nightmare to a father-expressing love!!! Ask them for angry looks and their trademark you-will-be-screwed-if-you-do-not-listen-to-me expression....you will get them galore, but ask them to tell how much they love their daughters and sons or as a matter of fact any living being, i bet they would stammer or even you may witness blushing if you ask about the right person ;) .” not my words, these are the words spoken by the great, his highness “BUBBLY”(i wish i could have written the original name!!). A guy with the feminine name which is the result of the emotional outbursts he has every now and then. And this is how i thought of dissecting a father’s brain, metaphorically of course!!

If history suggests anything then fathers are essentially the chief bread-earner of the family and with that cometh the great power of being the lynchpin of the family. And as everyone is aware that “with great power comes great responsibility”.. the father is at the helm of all the affairs of the family. Any geek with party shoes would tell you this!! What though is admirable is a father’s quality to carry out that responsibility with such ease that no one around him even gets a hint of the turmoil he goes through. It is that particular quality which makes him the “father”.

Not that every guy is born to behave as a father, they are simply moulded into one. Mostly by looking up to their own parents guys simply follow the apply-what-you-experience method. The point of talking however is the time when a normal guy transforms himself into a father figure. Just like the hot iron is made into a tool by applying pressure on it, guys become fathers by the pressure society applies to them after marriage. We live in an age where we very often talk about the society norms and rules regarding a girl. Well, there are some for the men too (if you are respectable enough to follow them).

If you are a married man then you are expected not to behave as a guy....that is not to behave like you have in all your past years!!! That is a hell of a change, i tell you!! You need to be disciplined, respected, endearing and blah blah blah!! Your wings are more or less clipped by the society. Suddenly you find yourself responsible for a woman and a child( or children) in a few years. You take all the tough financial decisions when all you previously did was to earn and spend it on your luxuries. You are required to find the best education for your children and may be the best beauty parlour for your lady!!

Fathers have an uncanny ability to show themselves as devoid of any motherly emotions such as love and care. Well, they are not emotionally devoid ; they are just the people who learn not to let emotions affect their decisions and judgements for they know the true impact of a decision on a family. A house needs someone to look up to. It needs someone on whom they can rely at all times. It needs someone who will be their “man of steel” in the hour of need. It needs someone who does not break when something drastic happens. It needs to respect someone who is wise enough to show them the direction. It needs someone trustworthy to believe that the path he shows is not wrong. A house needs a father and that is what a father does.

A mother’s love may cross the metaphorical “seven seas” for her child, but it is the father who pays for the trip. A mother’s love may have the power to convince her child to fight with a disease, but it’s the father who provides him with the treatment. A mother flinches when he sees her child injured, but a father never does that because he has to be the epitome of strength. Not that i am taking any sides, but one seldom sees the roles fathers play. Man sacrifices many a things to become the father he is expected to be.


On this Father’s day let’s respect what our fathers have done for us all these years. From completing our dreadful school projects to attending out numerous PTA meeting to giving us the best of everything..... they deserve every bit of attention and love. Happy Father’s Day.   J

Monday 27 May 2013

Story of a SLAVE

Story of a SLAVE

.........“ i will be like him”, he said one day,
Eyeing the man in the suit,
“i will work hard till i have enough paid,
And then i will follow his route.”
Those particular words the master did not like,
And already mad with his demand of a hike,
He caned him and had him beaten,
But the dreams he had woven were not to be broken....

Knee-deep in the pain,
His brain was all dead,
A daily plunge into the gorge of hopelessness,
Drove him utterly insane.

“ i will buy that car” he said the other day,
Eyeing the Bentley zooming on its way,
“I will drive it in the top speed,
And make it out of this weed”
The master overheard the boy’s tone,
And saw him as if he had swallowed a fish bone,
The dream was the same and so was the result,
The master had him caned but the dream remained.

“i want to buy this book” he said one day,
Showing a book in his hand to his master,
“i want to study further and be a rich man,
If i be one, then i will gift you this land.”
The master kicked his butt and shouted at him,
“get lost you moron, your brain is full of whims,
you are never gonna be a rich brat,
you were born into slavery and to this king,
and you rot in it till death gives you a ring.”

That was the end and that was the beginning,
That was the bend he was so keen on hitting.
Now a free man, he had no masters,
But not a single day did he forget his blisters,
He made his own path, Used his tremendous wrath,
To conquer his dreams, To live a life that he owed to none,
To breathe the air that he didn’t have to earn.
He shined like a gem,
And returned to the master’s helm.....

The master had grown old and wrinkled,
He saw a Bentley parking in front of his house,
Thinking who it might be, he adjusted his specs,
And he gulped a lump in his throat,
as he saw the face......

The master was seeing his procurement,
And in his hand he held a document,
“If you had not kicked me then, I would not have fled,
Taking directions from my dream, i could not have led,
i told i will gift you this land if you help me,
And here it is,
Today i am as rich as i wanted to be.”

                                                          PUNYASLOK RATH(27-05-13)

Saturday 26 January 2013

A Special Diary Entry


A Special Diary Entry


Dear diary,

You remember how many pages I wrote to you grumbling about my elder sister?? And that too just because she hid the mixture and ‘mudkis’ that dad brought for us from berhampur reasoning that I finish them too early without sharing!! You remember what I wrote about her when one day she criticised me for my dressing sense?? You remember how much I used to complain about her taking all the new pens dad brought from his office??

You might be wondering why all of a sudden I am asking you questions regarding my sister. Today when I was returning after watching the disastrous movie, I saw a little girl probably 7 or 8 years of age walking down the street holding the hands of her small brother who was looking at her instead of the road. With the typical roads of India being filled with potholes, the little guy was destined to take a fall the way he was walking, and he did! The sister immediately turned back, picked him up, wiped his tears and stomped, kicked the road making his brother believe that the culprit was being punished for what he/she/it did!!........

This kind of made me feel guilty. It was as if I was witnessing a part of my past which I was never able to see for myself. I never wrote pages about the time she had changed my diapers when I was too small and sickness had caged me. I did once write about she being my guiding light in her slam book, but I never dedicated any page in you to her to convey how special I felt when she tied a rakhi on my hand. I never wrote about how thrilled I was when she said that she would pay for my new phone with her first salary. I did condemn her for criticising my dressing sense, but never thanked her for making me want to improve it. I never said her sorry when she left alone tired from the wait for me at the bus stop on the very day of raksha bandhan .I complained when she took the new pens but I never expressed my gratitude even in the writing when she shielded me after my result declaration from the wrath of mom and dad.

......the road was being punished furiously by the sister, but the little guy was in no mood to close his flooding dam’s gates. With a worried look the girl began searching something. She fixed her eyes at a store and ran inside it. Being left alone the guy increased his pitch which now even I could hear from the other side of the road. Just when I was about to step in, the girl came out running from the store with a diary milk in her hands. And boy, you should have seen the reversal of mood on the little guy’s face!!! But the girl won’t give the chocolate......... she extended her cheek signalling her smaller brother to peck her which he did with the speed of light. She then gave him the chocolate and they both walked to their home merrily.

Probably the guy was only interested in the chocolate and not in the affection her sister demanded......but one day may be....he would be the one writing something like this in his diary!!