Wednesday, 26 December 2012

Death's knock on the door

A chill went down my spine as I saw her lifeless body.

Well, I really hated seeing her from the first instance. Every time she came into the horizon of my vision, I tried avoiding her. 

Her eyes were cute. 

Still I despised her.

She poked her nose into everyone else's matter. Everyone liked it. 

I dint like her still.

She was loved and cared by everyone.

That did not alter my mindset.

I did not like her.

But never did I want to see that scene. It is true that to the extent of my hatred towards her had brought about a thought of her never coming back to my life. But I never wanted this to happen.

Her mother was no where to be seen. She did not want to see her only relation on earth lie lifeless. She never would have imagined her little one lying on bare earth with the little heart not pumping life. 

She was forcefully brought near the little one.

Her frisky little puppy was dead.

One sniff and the mother dog scurried her way.

Even though I just got a brief glimpse, I could see the crystal orb like eyes moist. 

A small breeze brushed past the pup's little coat fur. 

She lay still. The charm of hyper activeness that she possessed would never resurface again.

The naughty little puppy went to the distant land of dreams or would have been reborn. Perhaps as a naughty little kid.

Perhaps... Only perhaps....

Friday, 21 December 2012

Questioning Womanhood

A school going girl 

A girl in the bus stop.

A lady standing next to you in the elevator.

A young female sitting next to you in an overcrowded bus.

What difference do they have with those who get nasty looks and touchings, let alone the ones getting raped?

Is travelling alone or wearing short dresses a reason?

Well, is it a crime?

If that is the case, all solo travelers and FTV models should be punished (And porn actors should be given capital punishment)

Or is that being born as a woman the reason for all these?

Let us put ourselves (the men) in their shoes for a moment.

Walking all the way to the bus stop and getting stares from all the passers-by just because you wore a new shirt. 
Standing in the bus stops with all the stares continuing. 
Entering the bus and people touching your groin and hips. 
In your office, as you bend down, people glaring to see the amount of chest hair you have. 
Late at night, people giving unscrupulous stares that question what business do you have at this point of time.

Now giving her back her shoes and putting back my shoes, I felt like puking after thinking and writing all these. Just imagine the plight of a lady who has been undergoing so much suffering through out all her lifetime.

Sad, isn't it?

Still, we do not change. After all these hardships, she sees her sisters across the world undergo miseries. Some get raped too. Hearing all the unpleasant news, she gets stressed.
Instead of looking forward to each passing day, she gets tensed to go out into the cruel world out there.

Rapes are, I believe, frustrations vented out. 

But why? 

India is a country that does not lack the number of women who are more than willing to allow you to use them. Then why is against women who are expected back at home in one piece?

Is it because that going to a place of ill-fame degrading the status you have? As if conducting that heinous crime of rape will maintain it.

A word of caution to all-but-one sisters in the country and all sisters in other countries: 

''Be aware. The clan of your opposite sex is not as saintly as you think. Please take care of yourself.''

The Devil Reincarnated

The pistol was held on to her face at point blank.

Her eyes met the hazel eyes of a seeming-to-be young man who was covering his face with a mask. The eyes had no sense of guilt in them.

He could see her eyes yearn for mercy. The eyes clearly had fear shadowed with elements of terror in them.

He signaled his brain to send an impulse to his finger to pull the trigger. The brain wave surge made his finger move, that lead to a heinous crime.

The fraction of a second and it was all over. The finger movement, a shot on her forehead and the shriek from the poor lady.

The soul was fighting its way out from the body which was all drenched in blood. Within a few seconds, the pain struck body transited itself into the lifeless state. 

She was dead. A moment of immense pain and she bid farewell to the ruthless world for a journey into the world of peace.

The people who had crowded after hearing the gunshot alerted 911. The man showed no signs of remorse and stood still next to the body. As soon as the police arrived, he surrendered himself without the slightest hesitation. 

His hands were bound to the back and was thrown face first to the backseat of the police car. The police ripped off his mask.  

He was no more older than the boy next door who was always happy to run errands for your aunt in your absence.

His eyes were lifeless and stone like. He stood there, without the slightest remorse of the crime he had committed.

The police was busy answering to the public and the media.

He sensed a chance and made a dash out of the door. The chief ordered his men not to chase in haste.

Instead, he drew out his Smith & Wesson Model 500 from the holster and shot him. 

The aim was perfect. The bullet entered the skull exactly at the same point where it made an exit from  the lady's head.

He collapsed into a lifeless lump of human flesh. With a small grin, the chief walked back to his car. The sergeant opened the door for him with a smile. 

                                        Prayers to the departed souls of the Sandy Hook incident

Saturday, 15 December 2012

The Life of a Lone Mother

The little ones were struggling to get on to their feet. They were exerting the maximum and pushing themselves hard to stand up. Sometimes they were victorious, sometimes they just rolled down. But they did not give up their fight, the fight with the world outside.

The lush green grass was their playground. Like the hard and fast rule of acclimatization with nature, the four little pups were adapting themselves from the comfort of their mother's womb to the harsh world outside.

Standing almost 50 feet away was their mother, a while colored female mongrel was standing on the aisle of the walkway waiting for people to throw down bits and pieces of random food articles, out of mercy.

Her eyes had the emotion of helplessness of a street dog. She looked into the eye of every passerby to spare her some sympathy.

Even though while surveying each person with her hazel eyes, her eyes often stole a glance to her little ones.

After gobbling down a couple of bread pieces, she ran towards the pups which made squeals of delight on seeing their mother.

I was just a mere spectator who watched it in wonder , the life and affection of a mother.

It made me think of the plight of a single human mother who has to surmount the daunting roles of a working woman and a doting mother. If she compromises on the former, she and her kids will suffer if the alimony is not huge enough (divorcee) or will become difficult to make ends meet (if husband is deceased/ family not supportive).
Or if she compromises on the latter, the spirit of motherhood burning within every woman would question the integrity of being a mother.

Rekindling this thought provoking question in my mind, I paced my steps back with a salute to my mom and all loving mothers on planet earth.

Wednesday, 12 December 2012

An Engineer's Love Letter

Well, speaking about love, there is no discrepancy between any mortal alive. Its all the same. The same old emotion flows out, like an uncontrolled gush of water with no check on its flow.

People sometimes judge it  as 'an intense feeling with deep affection' viz-a-viz 'misunderstanding between 2 people', so on and so forth.

 It is hard to find a person who has not fallen in love. It is even harder to get back the love. 

Lucky are those who get it back, in quantity and quality higher than what you initially give.

It seems that no one ever has questioned the source from which this emotion arose. 

It is seemingly possible to believe that it was there from the day when Adam and Eve plucked the forbidden fruit.

From the day that the 1st pair of coelacanth arose from water and with multitudes of rounds of evolution and still today, being the product of a 4 billion year evolutionary process, love still is the same feeling for us.

It is still there and will always continue to do so.

Our protagonist is an engineer in love.

And here it goes.....

Dear ******,

              On the day we first met the 'not-knowing-you' emotion underwent a 180 degree phase shift to a you-are-the-one-for-me emotion.

Our further meetings triggered signals in my heart and amplified my feelings for you. The resistance that I had towards love was bypassed by your presence.

My heart had formed a set-up of a decoupling capacitor where all external interference from friends was bypassed and thrown down the drain.

In short, I felt that we are like 2 plates of a parallel plate capacitor with the whole world around us serving as a dielectric material.

Remember the day you replied positively to my love, the electric impulse that went up my heart was enough to charge a defibrillator to provide a shock strong enough to cure  the maximum extent of damage ever known to mankind. Thank God that I didn't have to use it.

Every time I see you talk with someone, it makes my blood boil with rage. All the hate gets multiplexed and produces a single strong signal, so strong for him to withstand. 
Thankfully, the output didn't have to be produced as his sensory circuits sensed some interference from nearby and he quickly withdrew from the scene.
He must have understood no equalizer in the world would have been able to smoothen out this heavily powerful noise waves.

Let me assure you that the signal my heart produces has the same strong intensity, amplitude and frequency. Let me also tell you that my heart is a distortion-less circuit and will continue to produce the same output forever, without fatigue.

Till we meet next time, you shall remain to be in my wavelength.



Thursday, 6 December 2012

The Morning of the War

The rucksack hanging down on a side
In it lies all the supplies for sustenance
Guns loosely hanging on the other
Jumping and jiving with the rhythm of the boot
For it doesn't know its counts of sin
Both balances the shoulders and
The line between life and death
We seek out to the path of justice

Thumping down the barracks
Out the meadows and lakes
Life is taking the toil on him
For his hands smells of blood
And the mind shivers of blood-curdling wails of helpless souls 
that left their dilapidated embodiment to attain the abode of peace
and of the heart touching wails of weeping homes
that lost their beloved love

The tremor of the consequences shatters the heart
The valor of a man braves it well
For he who knows the dharma of war,
It is nothing but, do or perish 
Going to the battlefield is a task
Ahead lies misery and grief
but the end of the path is glory and laurels
Seeking the man and his kith and kin

Girding up his loins and
keeping his mind set and ready 
The moment of war
that seeks not more, but the whole of you

Flee out of sight, so you will
lose out what is all you pride
Fight the way out, 
The road to glory is not that all
All what matters for him is 
his dignity upheld

The Barbershop Ordeal

I have always loved evading crowds. Seldom does it work on the roads on the way to the office, but otherwise I hate crowds and will go to ...