Friday, 29 June 2012


I am Aradhna and I hate you. You make me cry everyday…

I was talking to the onions I was peeling for the day. I have a love-hate relationship with onion. I love onion & can’t think of making a dish without it. But the ordeal of going through the unstoppable tears it gives me, makes me hate them. I have to start my daily cooking at five in the morning. So I wake up in the face of onion and eventually start scolding it in the process.

I have this issue for a long time. Few years back while doing my MBA, my professor asked us to come up with a new product which can have a huge commercial value. Know what my product suggestion was…..Hmmm An Onion which doesn’t make you cry…. Forget my poor scores for that assignment; point is that I’m trying to find a way to work around this problem for a long time.
I went to God Google for a remedy and he gave me few suggestions. Let me talk about top three suggestions I tried..

1)    Eating(or is it chewing) a chewing gum while peeling onions: This is so easy I thought. I bought a box of Orbit & started chewing while peeling Onion. And the result was… I Love Orbit..But sadly it doesn’t stop the Onion Tears.

2)    Light a candle before you while peeling onions: Another approachable suggestion isn’t? Actually I’m searching for the person who gave this suggestion. In this hot Chennai weather, sitting before a candle and peeling a onion which still gives you tears is bit too much. I was very frustrated after trying it out.

3)    Microwaving the Onions for a minute before peeling them: You will end up cutting a hot onion which still makes you cry.

I tried numerous other methods too, but none of them works. I’m still continuing my daily routine of scolding the onions while peeling it. But now I have seen a light at the end of tunnel..Yes..Few days back I was watching a 1970’s movie. The heroine gets married to the hero and when she is about to leave her parent’s home, her father asks the hero to keep her happy. Hero replies “Don’t worry I won’t even let onions make your daughter cry. I will peel it for her. “

Yes I’m going to search for a guy who can cut onions for me. I’m even thinking of the matrimonial ads in that fashion

…. Require a well educated guy who can cut onions.
… Able Onion-cutting groom required for….

Grrr.. People please let me know if you have found any other way to stop Onion Tears. Plz…..


Thursday, 28 June 2012

MAIN AIM OF LIFE- A seat in a bus

A seat of a bus is the aim of your life and it should be the central point like sun of our solar system, around which, the other  segments of our life revolve ,like the planets of the solar system. If you have not thought about it until now then , I am not sorry to be judgmental, you have not truly imbibed the soul of India.
The people who are ignorant about the importance of a seat on the bus are not the part of the mainstream society, yet to discover the realms of true India and needed to be thrown straight into the bus number 732 going from Marathalli to Koramangla , in Bangalore.
The red colored bus is travelling on the roads like an unleashed bull, running with the mind of its own , with only one rule in its mind, which is to  cover the immediate distance visible. The bus turns swiftly to prevent hitting any nearby car or auto as if it is bouncing off an invisible surface which can be located hardly an inch from the adjacent vehicle .
The passengers inside are the daily passengers which are coming from their offices and heading home to celebrate the occasion of accomplishment of one more day of their slavery to their Indian middle class dreams.
The passengers can easily be identified with their appearances, gait and appendages. The passenger who is flaunting branded clothes with matching shoes and a tie, which in itself is  expensive than the accouterments of the adjacent passenger and yet travelling in the bus to save the money on petrol is surely working in a service industry like banking or insurance, where the welcoming personality is a must for acceptability among the customers .
The middle aged passenger with a half sleeve shirt -which is hanging loosely and not tucked inside – with contrasting trousers and sleepers ,wearing a decent strapped watch on his arm , holding a shining steel lunch box  is a government employee.
The guy with disturbed hairstyle, t-shirt , jeans, back pack and head phones in his ear is the IT guy.
There are hoards of others but they do not bother us because they are also the same as these three. They all are in the same physical posture, same trance and their mental, emotional and physical balance is matched with that of the bus. They all are holding the yellow pipe of the seat in front if they are sitting  or black rubber handles  suspended from the pipe attached to the ceiling of the bus if they are standing.
They are deep into their thoughts of whatever subject they chose but the flow of their thoughts is the same. A passenger gets in the bus, buys the ticket, holds the suspending black rubber handle with one arm, immerse deep into  his world and  his body matches the rhythm of the bus .The thoughts are brought to a halt by the jerk caused by the  sudden breaks applied by the driver. The breaks tends to throw the passengers ahead as their body is still in motion where as the bus has stopped . Then again the bus moves , their body matches the rhythm and they immerse into their thoughts.
“The bus  will take another hour to reach Koramangla.” the smartly dressed young banker looks at his watch and says to himself.
“I must locate a seat. I should sit down or else I would be too tired when I get home and will not be able to reply all the emails from the boss. I also have to make the synopsis of the job profile I have been handling. ” The banker’s thoughts and body has started to match the rhythm of the bus.
The middle aged government employee is also looking for a seat. He is feeling tired now. “Mr. Aiyyar has been too smart in his financial planning. I will spend more time with him to learn the complexities of the matter. I need to sit to relax, the day had been too taxing!”
“How can I forget you Smitha? You have been my inspiration whole life. Now I am rich and capable and you are no where me.” This is the disturbed  IT guy.
“I feel sad without you Smitha. I am no hero without you. I feel so weak.” The disturbed IT guy is looking here and there for the seat.
The three passengers finally saw a passenger who is looking outside the window, trying to understand the location by reading the glowing boards . Their eyes suddenly glow with the gleam of opportunity. A man’s spirit are kindled by the presence of opportunities and they die with the fading chances.
“I need to achieve the target within this week because they will be sending the appraisal forms within this week. No point in scoring after the final whistle!. Oh God! I just need a single account. I just need a single lead.” The young banker shifts towards the seat.
“I should have been careful before hand. I already gifted the car to my son but a lot needs to be taken care of. So much of money is lying in my name here and there and CBI is about to raid the office. Oh Murugana! help me !” The middle aged government employee takes a step forward towards the seat.
“Smitha oh Smitha , why don’t you return my calls. I want to talk to you just once. I have seen love in your eyes for me. God just for once I want to meet her and tell her. I know I couldn’t gather the courage up till now but this time I will.” The IT gy also moves forward.
The three tigers moved silently towards the common prey. Man has been a hunter and will remain a hunter till the rapture. Their hunting instinct warned them. They noticed each others movements and inclinations towards the seat. The war was in the air. They could sense it. Their eyes met and the tussle was confirmed.
“I can’t leave this chance. If I let it go without performance then I may not get another chance.” It was difficult to distinguish whether the young banker was thinking about his job or the seat.
“I have to fight for this. I can’t loose now. Now I am a respected member of the society. This is such a small hindrance now.” The same was with the middle aged government employee.
“Smitha I can’t live without you. I feel so weak.” Although the IT guy tried to move towards the seat but his thoughts were clear.
The young banker was very alert. He looked at both the competitors. They were looking at him too.  Nobody knew in whose favor the game would go but this was a strong competition for sure. The middle aged man didn’t budge and was looking at both of them. He seemed to be a stiff fighter. The IT guy seemed too intense. He seemed as if he has ignored the presence of the two competitors altogether. He was in his own mind.
And the result which came was very shocking. In a moment faster than the strike of lightning the bus halted for a brief second, the seated passenger got up and could be seen on the road within no time. No body cares if he jumped through the window. The seat was seen vacant for some fraction of a nano second. There were many people who tried to lower their waist and point their behind toward the seat to present their candidature for the seat.
The most prominent behinds were only three and they were no doubt ,our three passengers. Nobody knew what their fate will be but they fought due to their own reasons and because the man is a hunter. It seemed there was going to be a tough fight between these three which sometimes erupt in violence also. But the young banker was the hero of the day who surprisingly changed the game. His behind was the best candidate for the seat and was about to possess it when he withdrew the candidature and the seat was automatically filled by the second best behind. It was the middle aged government employee who got the seat but he noticed the gesture by the young banker and looked in his eyes for thanking him and also to ask him that why did he withdraw his behind from the competition.
“Please sir, you have the seat!” the young banker said to the winner.
“Thank you young man”
“No problem sir. My pleasure.”
“You seemed to be doing quite well. May I ask where you work?”
The young banker’s chest swelled with pride. The pride was not of his job, it was for the confirmation of his anticipation that this fellow would surely ask about his job.
“Sir, I am a banker at XYZ bank. I look after investments and accounts” The young banker immediately gave him the card.
“Oh, my, my ! Would you mind if I ask for your service?”
“Of course not sir.”
The young banker was still holding the black rubber handle suspended from the ceiling of the bus but he was very happy now, he had a prospective customer, a lead. He saw the watch in the hand of the government employee . It was a golden watch at least worth ten thousand rupees. He was right. This could be government servant at high post.
“Oh God! I could have at least gotten the seat! Oh God! This is not fair. Please bring Smitha to me God…”
The IT guy was still standing too!

Wednesday, 27 June 2012


The school year was coming to a close. Vivek had just finished his Eleventh Standard and the summer holidays were going to start in two days. He was walking in the corridor adjoining the principal’s room when he saw a girl waiting with her parents. She looked very familiar.

Vivek stopped to take a second look at her. He couldn’t recognize her, but his instinct said that he had seen her before.

Three months later when the school reopened, he found that she had joined in the Eleventh Standard. It hit him like a ton of bricks. It was Suji! How could he not remember her?

* * *
It was the last day of their Fifth Standard. Vivek and Suji had been sharing the bench from class two onwards. Suji’s father got a transfer to Bangalore and they were moving after this school year. It was the last day that they both were going to see each other.

Suji got better grades than Vivek consistently and he hated that! But he could not do anything about it all these years. Other than this sense of competition, they both were good friends.

As they walked out of the school, they reached the road and it was time to say good bye.

“All the best… and good bye!”

Vivek and Suji parted ways.

* * *
‘Ha! It is Suji, after all… But wait! What is she doing in the Eleventh Standard? She must have lost a whole year. Or maybe they couldn’t get admitted in Twelfth and chose to lose a year… That doesn’t make any sense… She must’ve failed a year! Yes, that it. The Great Suji has got her failure at last.’

Vivek was smug with satisfaction. He even felt that he was flying in the air.

That last year that he spent in school, he never spoke a word to Suji. She was beneath his status... she had flunked a year! When they would cross paths in the school corridors, Vivek would avoid eye contact with her. He was busy with his studies with the single aim of getting into Engineering and never spared a second to think about Suji.

* * *
Two years later the classmates had gathered to meet over a weekend. Vivek was doing his Engineering as he always wanted. They all talked about the various topics during their school days—getting caught for plucking mangoes from the only mango tree left in the school that was built in the location that was a grove at one time; dissecting a garden lizard near the badminton court; leaving a dead rat on the shelves; stirring a mutiny of sorts when the cricket team was announced (and later getting ‘the treatment’ from the very strict vice principal). It was all fun as they shared past experiences.

The evening was getting to be a very memorable one for all. That’s when one of them interjected, “Did you guys hear about Suji? You know, the girl who used to sit next to Vivek until Fifth grade. She also rejoined a few years ago one year junior to us…”

“Yeah, what about her?” Vivek asked nonchalantly.

“She died! Cancer, they say...”

“What?” Vivek couldn’t believe what he just heard.

“She lost an entire school year in treatment. All of that in vain… May she rest in peace!”

That night, Vivek cried. But, he never forgave himself.

Tuesday, 26 June 2012


The train was not crowded for a Tuesday morning. I was sitting on a seat near the door and noticed the crowd behind me. Suddenly I heard something behind me. There was a passenger who got fainted. Crowd started to gather around him.

I moved towards him.

He was about thirty-five years old, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans.

“Please! Make way... I am a doctor. Let me take a look at him!” I said.

I checked his pulse. He was still conscious, breathing irregularly and looking dazed. Small beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

“Do you feel any pain in your chest?”

“No,” he nodded.

“Have you ever fainted before?”


“Did you eat this morning?”

“No,” he nodded again.

“Okay... Don't worry. This might just be a low sugar situation. Drink this...”

I handed him a bottle of Fanta I had with me.

“Your body needs sugar right now... You are very likely running low on blood sugar.”

The train was approaching the station. He sat up and had a few gulps of the Fanta. He seemed to feel better.

“Well... This is my stop. I will be getting down. Are you feeling better?”


“Get something to eat, alright?”

The train stopped. I joined the other passengers who got down at that station. I would have just taken a few steps when I heard him calling me.

“I didn't get to thank you...”

It was him.

“That's alright... I am glad I could help!”

“I am taking your advice and getting some breakfast. Would you care to join me, if you don't mind?”

“No, I have an appointment...”

I hesitated, looking at my watch. I still had forty minutes before my meeting with my insurance agent.

“On second thoughts... Let's go. There is a restaurant right outside the station,” I said.

The man appeared visibly pleased that I agreed.

We reached the restaurant. He ordered a masala dosa and I had coffee. We talked about each other. He told me that he was looking for a job and hadn't found one in the last two months.

The waiter brought the bill. I reached for my wallet and was shocked to discover that it was missing.

“Are you looking for this?”

He placed my wallet in front of me.

“I am sorry! I won't steal... ever again!”

Thursday, 21 June 2012



The clock was showing 5 in the morning when I left my bed and started to study for my graduation exams. I was sitting on my study table and in front of me was a window, through which a beautiful scene comes in to eyes. When little light starts to come out behind the horizon, the beautiful garden of Mr. Patel comes in front of me. Mr. Patel was an old man and he daily works in his garden.

That day around 6 in the morning Mr. Patel came out of his home and as a daily routine starts to water the plants. He was working in the garden when I saw a beggar coming from far away street. It took around half an hour to him to reach Mr. Patel. He stopped there and was asking something to him. Mr. Patel gestured the beggar to go from there and he started to work again in his garden.

Beggar was still standing there. After sometime the beggar started to move forward to Mr. Patel’s garden. Mr. Patel got furious to see the beggar coming in his garden. He shouted on beggar, “I told you go away from here.” After that Mr. Patel pushed the beggar hard which made the beggar fall and his head got stroked on a stone.

Mr. Patel got tensed, even I got tensed. The beggar was dead, I thought. Mr. Patel holds the beggar’s leg high and started pulling him. He left the body of the beggar on the street and rushed to his home and closed the door. Mr. Patel thought that no one knows about that incident but I was the eye witness.

After some hours police came and took the body away and thought the death of the beggar was an accident. I also kept my lips shut.


I was giving tuitions at home when I saw him again. I rushed towards the window. The same beggar, I saw coming through the streets and go directly inside the house. I got scared. I saw a dead man walking. Has he came back to take his revenge?

I told students to go back and rushed to Mr. Patel’s house. Mr. Patel knew me as his neighbor but this was the first time I was going to his house.

I pressed the bell. Mr. Patel came out. He looked a bit confused to see me but greeted me nicely. He took me inside. Then I came to know that his daughter has just given birth to a boy. They where fighting for the name of the child and the fight finished with the name ‘Akshit’. They gave me sweets.

“Mr. Patel, I saw someone coming to your home from the door behind. He was looking like a beggar. So I thought that he was in to steel something. That’s why I thought that I should inform you about that.” I said what I saw.

They searched the whole house but found nothing.

“May be a mistake of mine. Sorry.” I said and left.


I saw Akshit playing on the roof of his house from the window. He has settled the empty cans on the corner of the roof and was trying to knock the cans down by striking stone on them from the distance of 3 or 4 feets. All the cans were falling in garden which I knew that will make Mr. Patel angry.

When Akshit was busy in his task I saw that Mr. Patel came out of the house. He was looking very old. He was shaking when coming down of stairs.

In the mean while Akshit knocked a can down which hit on Mr. Patel’s head and he fallen in his garden. He died. Akshit was still busy in playing. He didn’t see anything. He was unaware of what happened.

After two three days I saw Mr. Patel’s daughter running furiously in morning on the street and her husband was running behind him. Tension started to build in me. I ran on street and asked Mr. Patel’s husband that what happened.
“Akshit is missing.” He said and hired a taxi to police station.

I turned and started to move towards my home when a man draws my attention. He was him, the beggar. I saw him coming out of Mr. Patel’s house. This was the first time I saw him clearly. He was staring me directly inside my soul.

Then he gave a smile to me and went again from where he first came. He disappeared in nowhere. Then I understood everything. I wanted to tell all this to Mr. Patel’s and wanted them to stop searching for Akshit because Akshit returned from where he came.

Tuesday, 19 June 2012


Why should have they blamed it on me? They never asked questions. They never expected answers either. They just yelled. And I could do nothing but staring at their scary faces. They never loved me; I even don’t what love is?

It wasn't my fault. It was god’s fault. I didn't ask to be like this. I even never asked one of them to give birth to me.

And now, they looked at me with an endless pity. They looked at me as if there was nothing that I could do and they felt so sorry about it. They were so sorry to have me as their handicapped daughter. A daughter who is good for nothing. I was a kind of showpiece which needs too much of handling. I was kind of pain for them.

It wasn't fair! I wished that I could have dissolved from their sight. There was no more reason for me to still be part of their life if my existence only made their life even worse.

I wished to be able to just leave this cruel world they were living. But again, I was handicapped! I couldn't even kill my self. God doesn’t even give me the ability to kill myself.

Luckily, they loved me so much, or love themselves so much, I'm not sure. They used their own hands to try their best to finally finish my sad miserable gloomy cheerless life.

Thank you, Mom, Dad. Thank you for killing me………….

Sunday, 17 June 2012



Mother can show her feeling through tears but how can a father show his feelings? This is the question whose answer is still far away from me.

I am a father of son going to pay his service to the motherland. He was joining army. The war was on and he wanted to sacrifice himself for his country. Yes, of course he took that decision against our will. We had a big business and he was the only son to handle our empire.

He was in his uniform and was putting his luggage on the van he hired. His mother was crying heavily and I was standing still. Actually I was crying inside. He came to touch his mother’s feet. She took him in her arms. Then he came to touch my feet, I didn’t react. I don’t know why I was so strict? I should have grabbed him tightly but I didn’t.

He gave me an envelope and told me to read it after his departure. He sat in van and gone. I consoled my wife and came inside.

I opened the envelope, inside that was a card, Father’s day card. My throat chocked. He remembered this time also. I was about to burst in tears but I controlled. I opened the card, inside was a message for me.

“Happy Father’s Day dad. I know that you are against my decision but dad I have learnt all this from you only. Once in my childhood you told me that when the whole world is against you, follow your heart. I am just following my heart dad; I am just following what you have told me.”

I cried but silently. I didn’t want to show my tears to my wife. I am proud of you my son. If only I have said that to you. I always felt proud of my son but I didn’t show that to him. I don’t know why I did all that, may be this was the silent cry of a father on the eve of father’s day……….

Saturday, 16 June 2012


That pretty girl, sitting on the cold bench, was looking at the lake with her wide eyes. I was on the other bench, also cold, reading my book. Well, not actually reading beacuse she really took my attention. I could see her fine nose, a little bit up, smelling the air. The nice smell from the lake. Her hairs blowing in the cool breeze coming out from the lake.

In front of us, there were some little rowboats two persons in each, a man and a woman. She was still staring at the lake. No expression, no happiness, no sadness, nothing. I could see her eyelash from my place. They must have been so long and curly that I could notice from about two meters and a half.

I tried to read my book again with my eyes sometimes looking at her. Half an hour gone. It was almost dark. Most of the boats were disappearing from the lake. Only some couples walking out of the park, hand in hand. Some others enjoy the darkening process. No sunset in the corner of the lake but still it was beautiful.

I put my book back to my bag. Tired of sitting down, I walked to reach the lake. A few inches from it, I stopped. I turned my head to see the girl. She also stood up. A few steps away from the bench. Her long brown hair and skirt were flying so beautifully on the cold air. Just one thing bothered me, tears.

I saw tears on her pinky cheeks. Now I saw sadness. Wondering what on her mind now. It seemed like she just could not help it. She was trying to manage her feeling but then, she really could not help it.

Standing there, tears from her eyes onto her cheeks, down touching the land, absorbed. But not her sadness. She kept it in her heart, wishing that she could do the same with it, Letting the fertile soil absorbed it so it did not have to be her burden.

I was still there, watching her. She did not notice me. That might be better. I would not be able to heal her wounded heart.

Friday, 15 June 2012


~20 years ago~

My heart beat faster and faster as the little girl came into the room. I couldn’t see her face. Her eyes were glued to her brown shoes. Her dress, also brown, seemed not to fit her well. It was a little too small.

I was still confused, whether it would be right. Have I taken a right decision? The only thing I knew was that a widowed woman like me has to find a reason to live and this can be my reason.

Mrs. Sinha brought her closer to me. I reached out to her. She stepped back. Mrs. Sinha looked at me, asking me to try once more.

I didn’t want to try once more. I didn’t want to scare her. I wanted to give her space. I can’t force her to do this. I decided to wait until she herself finds it good to come near me.

“Maya, this is Mrs. Sharma. She will take you to her house. Maya, please, look at me while I’m talking to you.” Mrs. Sinha was polite but her words were not.

Maya, the little girl, looked up. I saw tears in her green eyes. I felt some kind of discomfort in her. I don’t know whether she was ready or not.

I looked at her. She looked at me. We said nothing. But, I believe our eyes talked to each other. Our eyes said million words. This was an amazing feeling which I cannot explain, the only thing is that I found my daughter there.

All of a sudden, she stepped forward. My heart beat even faster.

“Do you have cats?” she asked.

I smiled. I nodded.

“Good. Let’s go to your house. Let’s see if you can be my mother.”

Her simplicity was really adorable. In those just two lines, she won me.


There she is, Maya, my daughter. She looks beautiful on her graduation day. She is now Maya Sharma, CEO of a multinational company, my smart adopted daughter.

Monday, 11 June 2012

BUT SHE WAS HUNGRY............


“Beta, where were you?” My mother seemed to be tensed. She was holding me tightly, so tight that her nails were getting bored in my skin. She was on her toes so that she can come to my level. I had never seen her like this before. Her eyes were swollen, may be those were the result of immense flow of tears from her eyes. 

I was afraid to see her like this. The sense of fear was shaking me from my toe to head. In the mean while I heard the door smashed and my father came in. He was panting ruthlessly and the same tension was also can be seen on his face.

“Where were you, Sunil? You left my office at 2’o clock and now its 8’o clock.” Now I came to know the reason behind their tension. They were eagerly waiting for a reply. They were standing still on their places, no movement, nothing. They were just staring to my eyes. Their eyes wanted a reply but I was not in the state to reply them. Before I could speak anything, I fainted.

Moments after, when I regained my senses I found myself lying on bed and heard my father’s and doctor uncle’s voice coming from another room.

“I think Sunil fainted because of tiredness and a prolonged exposure to the sun. His age is only ten and that’s why he can’t resist such circumstances. Where were he gone in afternoon?” Doctor Uncle was like interrogating my father.  

“Actually doctor, I forgot my mobile in home this morning. So I called Reema (she’s my mother) from PCO to send Sunil to my office with my mobile. You know doctor that for a businessmen living without mobile is like living without life.” My father took a long pause then he again continued:

“So it was the first time when Sunil came to my office so I ordered some cold drinks and burgers and then at around 2’o clock Sunil left my office. I gave him 20 rupees, that’s the rent of an auto and then I came back to my office.”

 “And he reached home at 8 in the evening. We don’t where he was in these 6 hours.” This was my mother’s voice. She was still weeping and sobbing.

I decided to call my mother in and tell them that I am OK.

“Mummy………” in the first attempt my voice didn’t came out my mouth well so I tried again and this time it was really loud. “Mummy………”

My parents and doctor uncle came in the room running. My mother came near me, gave me water and then asked the same question.

“Where were you beta?” This time I had to answer.

“Mummy, when papa left me near the auto stand, there were no autos. So I was just lingering there, when she came near to Me.” before I could speak more, my father interrupted in between.

“Who?” then I continued to explain.

“A small girl. She was asking for food. She was hungry, papa. So I gave her my 20 rupees. She bought food for herself and I came back to home on foot.” I finished. I was seeking some reply and it came from mother’s side.

“You came on foot. You walked 15 km. Are you……….” My father signaled my mother to stop being angry on me and he took over.

“Beta, these beggars fools everyone, so that they can earn some money. They play with our emotions. You should not give them money like this.” My father said.

“But she was hungry papa.”

“How can you say that she was hungry? How can you say that she was not fooling you?” This time my mother said. Her tone was a little, no a far angry tone.

“I don’t know mummy, but the only thing I know is that she was hungry. She was crying for food. She was definitely hungry……….”

There was a silence for a moment. All were staring to me. Maybe they were a bit amazed to see how fooling I am. Whatever they were thinking, I don’t care. The only thing which I know was that today I helped someone. I was the reason for someone to smile. I was the reason for someone to eat. I was the reason for someone to live………


Monday, 4 June 2012


“Sir, I am a murderer.” She was trembling while saying this. She was sitting in our police station, opposite to my table. She was there to surrender herself. I was the in charge of the police station.

She was a beautiful lady of about 22 or 23 years, had long hairs which were maintained really nicely, wearing pink shirt and dark blue jeans, had sunglasses on her eyes. She was looking from a nice and rich family.

“Who did you killed?” Well I asked her after taking a long pause because her first sentence was not really expected or if I talk frankly, I was lost in her beauty.

“I have killed 3 people.” I was really surprised to hear that. A girl, so pretty, can kill 3 people and also committing it in front of police. The whole thing was a bit unusual for me. “I have killed my Gardner, my driver and ……..” She paused a bit and started to sob. “And my mother.” She started crying hard. I gave her water and she started to take sip from that glass.

When she controlled her emotions, she continued to talk. “Please I beg of you, please arrest me otherwise I will kill someone else also.”

“Why did you kill them and why will you kill others? Mam………. What’s your name?”

“Shilpa.” She was still sobbing.

“Shilpa, why did you kill them?”

“I don’t know. I just happened automatically.”

“Shilpa, I am not getting it. And I cannot arrest you without any complaint and without seeing the body of the dead people you are talking about.” She was looking very tense to me. So I continued, “Shilpa, where are the bodies?”

“I dug them in my garden.” She was not looking like fake but what she was saying was even not looks to be believed.

I decided to go to her house. I took two constables also with me. When we reached her house she took us to her garden and told us the places where the body of the gardener and driver were dug. I commanded the constables to take the bodies out.

“Where’s the body of your mother?” I asked Shilpa.

“Inside the home.”

I started to follow Shilpa. She took me inside the house and then stopped in front of a dark room.

“Inside. My mother is lying inside.” She started to cry again.

I slowly started to move inside the room. The room was so dark that it was difficult to see anything. I had one torch with me so I decided to turn that on. I searched the whole room but the room was empty. Then I saw one room which was closed. 

I opened that room. And got shocked to see that there were three bodies lying inside the room. Two men may be Shilpa’s gardener and driver and one old lady may be her mother. I was wondering why Shilpa told me that bodies are out there in garden.

“Ahhhhhh………” Someone stabbed me from behind. I turned around. I was shocked to see Shilpa standing with a knife in her right hand covered with blood of mine.

“Why?” I asked her in a trembling voice. 

She came closer to me and stabbed in my stomach and said, “Because, it’s fun.”

I fell on ground and she took my gun and rushed outside. I heard two fires. She killed my constables also.

I saw her last image standing in front of mirror, combing her hairs and singing song………….

Sunday, 3 June 2012

THE CRUEL ENDING............


“For a normal man, the sound of bullet is equivalent to a blast but for me it is like my life.” I told to everyone newly appointed by our department and I was the trainer of all of them. “So, I want you to think just like me. Never fire on an innocent and never leave the guilty.” This was my favorite line so I say this every time in front of trainees. “My name is Raghav and I am your trainer here.” I introduced myself. “So for now you can go back to Officer Sinha he will teach you your work.” I was about to leave the place when one trainee came out from them.

“Sir I just want to be like you.” He was looking like he wanted to flatter me as I was very well known here for my strictness. In looking wise he was not looking like an officer type of material, he must be about 19 years old and had a very thin body and I hate that type of body. In short now he was on my shot list.

“O really, thanks for making me feel so good.” The guy felt really good after listening my words but he didn’t knew that from tomorrow he will be going to experience the worst of his life. “Well, what’s your name son.” I asked him very politely. I was behaving with him just like a Boucher behaves with a lamb.

“Sir my name is Surendra Pal Singh, but my friends call me Sunny.” He was trying to be friendly and was making me angrier.

“So Sunny I want to give you one advice, don’t talk anyone here like you have spoken with me.” After the last word I gave a little smile and left the place and made him think what I meant and I am sure that the whole night he’ll be thinking about that.

Right from the next day I showed that why I had been called that I am the ‘Father of Hitler’ in cruelty. I treated every trainee so badly that they thought that death will be sweeter than this training. My work here was to through out all those trainees who think that being a police officer means that you have the license to work as a dacoit with the common man.

My training always started at 10 am. Everyone wonders that why it is so, normally training starts from 5 in the morning. This was because of Mr. Sun who comes overhead at 12 of noon and I love to see my trainees crying for water and I being the follower of water saving campaign, saves water. This was my style.

“What happened Mr. Sunny, why you have stopped here?” I said as he has stopped running which I ordered to everyone. He was bathing in sweat and was stinking.

“Water, wa…...ter”

 “OK I will definitely give you water but first answer my one simple question,” I knew that in this type of situation no one can answer even what is 2+2 because your brain starts to betray you. “What is 20 multiplied by 30 plus 400 minus 1000?” I spoke that so fast that even a normal person can’t answer that.

“It ……… it is………. Ahhhhhhh………… I don’t……. I don’t know sir.” He was panting so wildly that after every word he had to take a break. “Please give me water.” He begged me.

“Its zero, nothing, nil and you have no water.” I felt so good that no one can imagine that. “If you want water you have to take another round of ground.”
As soon as my last sentence went inside the ears of Sunny, he fainted.

I called all boys together, they wake Sunny up. When Sunny caught his nerves back then I started talking with them all.

“Now do you know why I am being so cruel with you?” I didn’t wait for their answer as I don’t want to waste time. “This is because my work is to train you for those conditions where the things are hardest, where your mind starts to stop work, where the death is more closer to you then your gun’s bullet, where……..” suddenly I heard someone whispering something, I tried to heard that.
“He thinks that we’ll be going on front to fight, as if he is training army soldiers.” That was Sunny who whispered. I was so angry at that instance that I could even kill him for that but because of some protocols I couldn’t do that.

“Sunny, so you think that only those people who are on front faces problem.” I took my gun out and carried my way towards sunny “Let me explain all of you that what type of problems I am talking about.” I held my gun on his head and loaded my gun. “Now Sunny how are you feeling now?” I said in so serious note that everyone there felt that I will kill him. “Have you experienced the problems I was talking about?” I shouted so loudly that his hair blown because of my voice impact.

“Yes Sir.”

“Say it loudly.” I again shouted.

“Yes Sir.” He said just like I wanted.

“Now go back and take five more rounds of the ground and then you will get water.” My training camp was of 15 days and I always started with 75 trainees but in the end only 20 or 25 trainees left. Some of them willingly leave the department, some of them go to hospital, but this was the first time my one trainee died and no prize for guessing who he was. He was Sunny. Someone murdered him, his dead body was found in the lake near our camp. His body was made difficult to be recognized and because of my scene which created by myself in front of everyone I was claimed to murder him but believe me, i was not the one who killed him. I was not.........

Friday, 1 June 2012



“Do you ever put your arms out and spin and spin and spin? Well that's what love is like. Everything around you tells you to stop before you fall, but you just keep going. "

Enjoy the feeling called LOVE.


“Believe me Sanjay, you’ll be fine.” She was holding my hand and was dragging me in rain. 

“You know me Archana, I don’t bath in rain. I fell ill.” I was resisting myself going in rain.

We were standing on a bus stop when it started raining. I hated rain but Archana loved it. She says that rain is a shower of life, life starts to blossom in rain. Rain is a blessing of god but for me it’s just a part of water cycle which makes me ill often.

“Do you believe me Sanjay?” She had a spark in her eyes, spark of belief, spark of trust, spark of love. 

I was lost in her eyes, in her deep blue eyes. It was the first time I experienced the feeling to be spell bounded. When I regained my senses I found myself under the shower of rain. This was the best feeling I had in many years. When fast moving drops of water strikes on your eye lids, you feel something, something very strange.

Then my eyes searched for Archana. She was there, on the empty road. She was dancing. Her head high, enjoying every drop falling on her face, hands open and was turning round and round and round. 

‘She is beautiful’, my heart said to me. Her smile was like a tonic of happiness. Her rosy lips on her face were looking like a cherry on a beautiful cake. Her hairs, oh those long hairs were like a dark fantasy. In short she was looking like a goddess.

She was wearing white suit and was dancing under a yellow street light. Well in that yellow light she was looking just like a mountain covered with snow, with a hint of sunlight. Oh, I can’t describe her beauty.

My mother always narrated me a story that on the first rain of season, angels come on earth. I never believed her but now I can say, she was right. My angel was right in front of me.

“Will you dance with me?” she forwarded her hand towards me. Her voice was so sweet that no one can forget it.

I forwarded my one hand towards her hand and I put another hand on her shoulder. She smiled and corrected my hand position. She took my hand from her shoulder to her waist. That touch was like heaven. 

We came closer a bit. I can now smell her breath. At that moment I felt true happiness, the true joy, the true life. I sensed that ‘Yes I am alive.’ My eyes and her eyes were lost in each other’s depth and the rain was playing the background music for us.

Then started our legs moment and that we started to dance. We don’t know when rain stopped and moon came out from the clouds to see us dancing on an empty road under the street light.

“I love you, Archana.” My eyes said to hers. 

“I love you too, Sanjay.” Her eyes replied. It is true enough that when two people are in true love, words stop to talk and eyes takes over the task.

Then she forwarded her lips and I kissed her. That was my first kiss so it has to be a long one. Our kiss got interrupted with my sneezing. I was caught by cold.

Archana started to laugh and then I started to laugh. I put my hand on her wrist and grabbed her tightly and with laughing and smiling, we forwarded on the roads.
That rain was really a blessing of god, really a blessing of god…………….

Love is all around you,
Searching it is up to you.
Love will make you feel alive,
It is the true happiness of life…………..