Dec 25, 2013

Murphy’s Law

Happy Christmas and New Year wishes to all!

Today I want to write about Murphy ’s Law! What is Murphy’s Law? It is an adage or witty saying that people usually take as true as they have seen its application in their own lives in one way or the other. If giving a definition is necessary, the Murphy’s Law has been stated as 'Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong!'

'Anything that can wrong, will go wrong'? What is that? Well, I was expecting that question. I first happened to hear about this curious law some years back, even before I started blogging. That time, the person who initiated me into blogging had written a post with the same title, and then I also thought it was true, especially since I am a pessimist, yes! I also believe, anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, especially when we madly need a situation in which everything comes right.

I can just cite an example to explain this theory. Suppose you go to college (or office) everyday by your scooter. You daily start your journey from home at a routine time. Your scooter is your best trustworthy companion, it never puts you in trouble, and you had never faced a situation in which you are stuck at road side because of any malfunction from your scooter. But this evening your professor asked you to come class the next morning one hour earlier, as he had to complete his portions a bit faster since semester is coming to an end. The professor had already noted you, since you had failed many times in that subject. So, in case you do not attend his class, you will be facing some earthquakes.

Sample Image

But, you are not worried, you plan to be awake in the morning one hour earlier and set alarm accordingly. But alas! the next morning the alarm failed to ring you on time, and you have only a few minutes to get prepared. You complete your bathroom affairs in haste, skip your breakfast and jump upon your scooter just like a warrior on horseback, and kick on kicker, but, there is no response. The scooter is not working, may be due to empty fuel tank or any other technical problem. May be due to an unknown wire in its complicated mechanism that lost its joint. But you have no time to waste! You run to the nearby bus stop. You know a bus that goes through your college door, which has a stopover in front of your house. You look at the watch, which shows 8:37am, yes the bus will be there in five minutes. You wait and wait, but no buses come. You don’t know what went wrong. After fifteen minutes waiting, you plan to go a pinion ride by requesting someone coming that way on a two wheeler. No one responds to your waving arm. At last you get someone’s lift, and it is the noisy scooter of the fish merchant. You travel with him, and he drops you at a point where you need to walk five minutes to reach your college. 

You practically run, and reach your class room.  The class has already begun, and the Professor looks at you with his furious eyes. You apologise and enter the class room. Everyone’s is preying eyes fall on you with an impish smile. The professor comes close and asks you to show him the last days note. You search in the bag; all books are there, except the one your teacher has asked. 

I can see you everyone is smiling. Yes this is a typical example for Murphy’s Law. Now you all are agreeing with me that you also have faced the same situation many often. 

Sample ImageLast week, when I was spending some moments with my friend, I mentioned Murphy’s Law. My smart phone has trouble in displaying the messages. When I touch on the message option, it appears and closes automatically in one or two seconds. I said my friend that I have this issue, and touched on the message button for a demonstration. The messaging option opened and we waited for some moments to see it automatically closes. But nothing happened, it didn’t close. That’s why I say, anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.

I said about Murphy’s Law to some of the artists at my third short films location (yes, currently it is happening). When I explained it with the help of the aforementioned examples, everyone was smiling and nodding in an approving manner, admitting they too had faced it many times. By the way,have you seen the space film Gravity? Yes,they say Gravity has some application of this wretched theory.

Nov 29, 2013

A Confession

It’s been a long time since I wrote anything about my past days. I think you know how much eloquent is me when my topic of writing is about the early days those were at the brink of forgetfulness.  But, I think at least through this useless chronicling of my mesmerizing olden times, I can keep my fading memories alive.

This time the story is about a person whom I met when I was in Trivadrum during my initial days there. He was very funny, and dominating with some leadership qualities. I think I have told you about my admiration for taller persons, germinated during my growing ages when I was treated by others as a short guy. We both became befriended very easily and smoothly, and at the end of everyday, we used to have our evening jaunts together through the city in the process of acquainting with its many newly found curiosities.

Let me come back to the story. After our months long staying together, we both parted, but the contact was active. We used to meet each other, whenever he came to the city, and at one time, he had forcefully got me out for a ride during my office time, while he was on his occasional city visit. That time his purpose was to buy a cute little puppy from a pet shop located at some distance.

By that time he got married, and our attachment was getting faded. Our calls became very rare and less frequent. However we were connected through occasional mails, and seemingly meaningless activities through social networking sites.

On one night, when I was fast asleep, I was woken up by my cell phone ring. I had developed a habit of waking in the early morning, when my hostel mates were sleeping, in order to go on with my routine gymnasium visits. So, early to bed, and early to rise had somehow become my life policy, (though I rarely follow that policy nowadays).

I stretched my arms to get the cell phone in my half sleep state, might be the Non-REM state, I think I might have been sleeping without seeing any dream. Seeing my friend’s name on the cell phone, I attended the call, thinking what hell had made him dial my number at that unnatural hour. The time was between 1 and 2AM, so you can imagine what a sleep loving young man might be thinking at that time.

I could hear him breathing heavily, but I failed to identify whether it was because of tension or happiness.

Why brother? What happened at this hour? I asked without hiding my irritation.

Boy, I have become a father. My wife has just given birth to a baby girl. Oh she is so cute little one, he said while struggling to get breath.

So? So what? Is it the time to call me to tell such simple matters? You call me at this hour to say such silly things? My voice was very rude, though I didn’t realize it.

 Yeah man, you are the first one I call up to share my joy. Only your face came to my mind, he said apologetically. 

I doubt whether I had congratulated him. But that call didn’t last long. I cut the call, and returned to get back my lost sleep. Only the next morning I realized the serious mistake I made while treating my friend. It took a lot of time for me to realize how valuable my friendship was for him.

My friend, I don’t know whether you remember this. My deed was indeed beyond forgiveness. But, still I am wholeheartedly apologizing for the mistake that I committed. Please forgive me! Won’t you?

Nov 16, 2013

Adieu Sachin!

Today, the Indian sports icon Sachin Tendulkar retires from International cricket. It makes me sad, just like every Indian and many other cricket lovers around the world. Though his retirement was inevitable, I am sure everyone will be missing the cricket legend as we know that Sachin will not bat for India anymore as he has been doing till today.

I was a boy when I happened to notice the name Sachin frequently appearing in the sports columns of newspapers during the 90s. Being a person with no affinities towards sports, initially I failed to recognize the charm that every Indian perceives behind the name Sachin.  Cricket was just a meaningless act for me, but it was Sachin who diverted my attention towards the game, towards the excitement and unpredictability hid behind each ball that was thrown to the batsman at crease by a bowler at the other end.

Sachin Tendulkar
Sachin Tendulkar
Later, I too started to watch cricket, not for watching the game, but just to see Sachin playing it. When he was at the crease, it was a relief for us. All Indians put the burdens of high expectations on Sachin’s shoulders. And he many times, single-handedly carried those burdens and lead India to victory in a great chunk of first class cricket matches.

I had noticed my pulse was beating terrifically while watching a game. I counted and found it was nearing hundred. The occasion was when Sachin and Australian fast bowler Glen McGrath came face to face for the second time. When they encountered for the first time, it was McGrath who claimed the victory. He dismissed Sachin when he was yet to take his first run in the match. So, the second time, they met, expectations and curiosity were at high rise. But as a person, who disliked the dominance of any bowler on him, Sachin punished McGrath in the first ball itself for a gigantic sixer. Though he could take only 21 runs or something in that match, the vigor Sachin displayed was enough to overcome the dominance of McGrath.   

I know we might not be seeing him playing again in the international games. No chance to see the shots that dispelled to the boundaries through his marvelous ground shots. I loved the way he hit fours rather than his sixes. Those terrific shots were magical. I was lucky to see him getting the first ever double century in one day matches. Back then I was a journalist, was watching the game in TV live in order to update the live scores in the web news portal for which I was working. Don’t remember how many times I cursed MS Dhoni(a great player, of course) for not giving him the strike to complete the double century, when India was at the winning side. But, the caption I prepared was ready in the heading section, and I needed just a single click to publish it.

Now, I don’t watch cricket much. Being not an ardent admirer of cricket, watching the game on TV never had given me pleasure even in the winning matches. But I remember, whenever I enter a place where TV was switched on with live cricket streaming, be it a coffee shop, a bar, my home, or a friend’s home, I used to ask, Has Sachin bat, how much he scored? I know everyone would have asked the same question on many instances. After this, we will not be asking this question. But I doubt without remembering Sachin, or making a brief mention about him, whether I would be able to pass any game after this.

Attached below is a collage I made using my pictures and Sachin's. I know it is a stupid comparison, but still..

Sachin-Tomz Close Enough Collage

Thank You Sachin for enriching my boyhood days and youth with your mesmerizing shots, sportsmanship and personal charisma displayed when you were at the crease. Thank You for being the emotion of millions of Indians.

Oct 7, 2013

The Scent of Love - 5

Whenever he was at his home or somewhere, separated from the college campus, the fragrance of jasmine flowers gifted him the memories of Tina. His imaginations of Tina took life when his olfactory glands got the sensation of Jasmine. He lived with her in his fantasies when the fragrance of Jasmine flowers surrounded him, when the waves of a distant music touched his eardrums. Every night he dreamed her; and in his dreams, Tina inadvertently raised her face, and showered a beautiful smile for him. While walking through the streets, while doing some routine jobs, when the wind inadvertently brought the fragrance of Jasmine flowers to his nose, Tina came to his font walking from an unknown and unexpected universe.

Albert was never able to open up his heart in front of Tina. Being dangerously shy, Albert had many times purposefully avoided the situations in which he could have been together with her. His unrequited love had made him an introvert at some point of time during his college days. Tina was an outgoing type. She never came to know about her shy college mate’s increasing feelings for her. She never had any hint on the grade of madness that a person suffers due to his inability to confess his love for her.

An angel does not make a good spouse in marriage. Albert always continued to think about her as an angel. So he quit loving her, because of his inability to confess love. But wherever the destiny took him, on the beautiful paths of his life, Jasmine flowers showered scented smiles for him, and he was never able to forget Tina.

Rain was gradually sinking. Albert found himself standing below the Grand Mum tree completely soaked. He wondered, what was that which shifted his three years old memories of Mili to eight years old memories of Tina. It was the scent of Jasmine flowers, brought by the rain drops and wind.  

For Albert, waiting for Mili was not a new experience. After three years long separation, they were going to meet again that day. It was just one night before, he got a call on his phone from an unknown number. When he attended it, a very recognizable voice echoed from the other end. Mili! How he could have forgotten her voice? He wondered.

They agreed on a rendezvous, the Grand Mom Tree in the Rajaji Park, where they used to frequent. The rain was not unanticipated. Because, Albert knew that the nature would be keeping something unanticipated every time for him and her.

Mili appeared with an umbrella in hand, along with the sunlight that was brightened following the rain. She came like a breeze, carrying all the beauty of the wind. He watched curiously at the changes happened to her face. She still has that mysterious smile, he thought. He was curious about her long time separation,

“I wanted to be grown older Albert. I wanted to shed my immaturity”, she said.

He laughed it off. She apologized for the long time absence from his life.

“I learned that I could never stop loving you”, she revealed.

She was despondent after their last meeting at Albert’s apartment. Her only option was to go to the hiding of another city, where she grew up, in order to save her from the mixed emotion she had developed.

They remained sometimes in silent, looking at the edges of universe located far away at the opposite ends.

“What is your plan now?” She asked.

“I want to live just like this. If I get a companion for life, I will make sure that it will be a trusted lifelong partnership”, Albert said.

They wanted to be together again. They recollected the events of their togetherness. How they spent time in restaurants, theatres, parks, and in beaches; how they shared the same umbrella while walking through the streets during hot noon times, and how they ran to find a shelter under the local shops when the rain all of a sudden extended its tentacles towards them.

“Mili, I believe my life with you will be happy and funny. Even though we are humans, I will try my best to make a heaven for you. I will not make you sad, I promise”, he asked at the end, “Will you be mine?”

He saw her eyes were wet then. She was trying to smile between tears. He opened her arms for her, and in moments, she rushed to the shelter of his embrace.

Holding the hands of each other, they walked to the other end and disappeared. The Grand Mom Tree wished them good luck by waving its tree trunks.

A slight breeze came touching the leaves of the trees, carried the light tint of the fragrance of Jasmine flowers away, which had been lingering there the whole time. 

(The End)

Oct 6, 2013

The Scent of Love - 4

“What are you looking at, Mili?”, the question came from his throat.

“Nothing”, she shrugged her shoulders instantly without turning back.

He placed his jaw on her shoulder, and smelt her shampooed hair. When his breath tickled her, she responded by slightly twisting her neck, and lifting her shoulder. When his arms covered her hip and held her close from behind, she closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. He loosened his grip, and made her stand facing him. Looking deeply into her eyes, he said her that he loved her. Their lips mated, and it lasted for minutes. When it was over, she was fully turned on. He led her to his bed, and made her recline on it. His fingers caressed her shivering physique from tip to toe; his lips touched and felt the sensitivity of her skin, while it was getting revealed more and more.

It was the noon time, might be the hottest of the season. Below the ceiling fan, which was revolving in full momentum, Albert and Mili explored the hidden sensual magic. When she silently requested for his love with eyes full of lust, he took her to newer forages of love through continuous strokes and fondling. She cried, and closed her eyes, when they became unified in one motion. The tiny golden hair everywhere on her body projected out of follicles in admiration of his zest and zeal.

After it was over, when Albert and Mili rested on the bed looking silently at the momentum of the fan above, she unwrapped a chewing gum and put it in her mouth. With his eyes closed, he felt the fresh smell of chewing gum filled in the room, while her delicate fingers moved stealthily through his bare chest. But, when he opened his eyes after hours, he realized that he was alone in the room. A lighter tint of the aroma of chewing gum was still lingered around, as a sign of the lustful moments that had passed.

Albert hadn’t seen her after that. He tried to call her, but no one was there to respond. It worried him. There was a girl with whom he shared his love, but now no evidence of that love was remaining. He felt that he had been cheated. On such depressed nights, with a heavy heart, he despondently reflected about his lost innocence. Then came to his mind, to console his sad-stricken soul and heart, his teenage crush Tina, unveiling the dust-coated curtain of past memories.

He had visions in which the fragrance of fresh Jasmine flowers tickled his nostrils, while the smiling Tina, made a quick peep at his recollections. He found resort and rest in the thoughts of scented Jasmine flowers, which carried his delicate heart to his innocent younger days.

Albert was just seventeen. A very immature boy, who had never dared to look into the eyes of a girl. He never believed that he had the capability to attract a girl, which ruled out the possibility of him falling in love. But he understood that his realizations were wrong, when he first saw Tina, when their eyes met by the pure choice of destiny, when their eyes trapped in that universal lock for seconds, producing lightning strikes. He knew that his concepts about himself and love were wrong. He could also fall in love, and she was an angelic girl, with a beautiful and cheerful smiling face.

His study times were troubled by the intermittent appearance of her smiling images in front of his virtual eyes. Imagining the girl’s figure in his mind, he had loved her very dearly. He fantasized a future, in which she lead him to the wonders of love, where they lived for long, somewhere beneath the different layers of dreams, fondling memories and music.

Tina used to sing on stages. Once, when she was singing on the stage, Albert with palpitating heart, went to the front portion of the auditorium and sat on one of the first rows. His presence turned everyone’s head, as he had put some intense-smelling Jasmine flowers in his pocket. Its strong seductive aroma surrounded him. When his close friend asked him about the Jasmine flowers in his pocket, he said him secretively,

“It has her smell, Tina’s!”

He listened to her song, all the time watching her. Sometimes she glanced at him, which made him happy. Each of her glances had the power to stimulate him romantically, and the Jasmine flowers in his pocket carried him and her to a wider and greener meadow in his visions, where he found him and her alone. Her song echoed in his mind all the time, gracefully. He kept on sensing the beguiling aroma of the flowers, watching her admiringly, while imagining a halo around her head.

(The story will be completed in the next chapter)

Sep 19, 2013

The Scent of Love - 3

Albert got depressed, as his moral consciousness was very dominating. When he weaved sexual illusions around her thoughts, he had regret for fantasizing about a girl who had developed a strong trust in him. 

Albert’s friends encouraged him to reveal his love for her. 

“I will go mad being unable to reveal my love for her”, he lamented.

Albert still remembered that incident, on a sunny day, when they both were walking through the solitary tracks of the Rajaji Park, he got irritated by her chewing habit. 

“Mili, stop masticating like this, and listen to me”, Albert exasperated.

That was for the first time, Mili saw a variant expression from him. He appeared to her only as a nice guy, someone she could have confided her wishes and secrets. But the infuriated appearance clearly disturbed her.

“But Albert, you said it has a pleasant smell, and you like it, no?” Chasing Albert, and blocking his path, she asked showing emotionally wet eyes.

He didn’t answer. But when she pestered him with the same question, he felt regret for shouting at her, for making such a lovely girl so desperate.  When his eyes also filled with tears, he put his fingers on her shoulder in order to console her. He didn’t know what he was doing, when he pulled her towards him, and when her lips were trapped between his. That lock of lips lasted for some seconds. He loosened his clutches only when she started to resist, when she realized that she was kissed on her lips by her most trusted friend. She was very furious, and she lashed at him for breaking the trust. Albert had difficulty in facing her, though he was happy at the new evolution in their relationship. But, when he walked away, she felt that she was deserted after being stolen so mercilessly. 

She wanted to know if what he had in his mind for her were real feelings. She questioned him. He found her confused posture, wet eyes, trembling lips, and her expanding and contracting bosom as somehow provocative from his male point of view. He caught her in another embrace, and he led her towards another passionate kiss, which lasted longer.

“I always loved you Mili, I love you very much, I can see you only as my lover”, he confessed while kissing her on her face, on her eyes, and on her neck. That day Albert was very happy, though Mili was a bit disturbed by the sudden change in their relationship. She was worried about falling in love again, since earlier when love happened to her, it had given her heart pain and worry.

They went to theatres, bunking her classes, and taking half day leaves from his office. In theatre, when everyone found comfort and misery in the moving shades on the screen, his fingers caressed her sensitive and delicate thighs, tight-fitted in jeans, slowly, and affectionately. She tried to control her smile, biting her lips. But, when he stopped loving her like that, she wanted those tickling touches again.

“We are sinning Mili, I am worried”, he whispered on her ears. 

“My friends do more than this with their boyfriends”, came a daring reply from her.

She shared her lunch with him. She fed him with the same spoon from her tiffin box. After such many encounters, they wanted to do more than just touching and fondling.

It happened on a hot summer day. Albert’s friends had left for home as it was a weekend. However, he remained there in his single room apartment, expecting Mili. When he heard calling bell, he opened the door, and let Mili enter the room. She was shaking a bit. The hot noon had turned her cheeks into crimson, enhancing the charm of her fair complexion. The velvet jeans, and the black sleeveless kurti with full of red flowers enhanced her beauty.

He gave her some fruits. He showed her old photographs, in which a younger him smiled mischievously at her. He showed some of his advertising assignments, captions wrote for print ads, and sought her opinion regarding them. She walked to the window, and gazed outside holding the windowsill. Watching her posture from behind, he recognized her as the most beautiful creature in the whole world. His heart craved for her. He wanted to show her how much he cared for her, how much he loved her. He slowly approached her, and stood just behind her to see what she was watching.

(To be Continued)

Aug 31, 2013

The Scent of Love-2

Chapter 2

When the media campaign started rolling, many girls and boys who worked in the assignment rang up at the office and asked for more works, and some appeared in person. But Mili didn’t show up, even though she was well placed in the advertisements. Albert’s office didn’t have her number too, to call her in the pretext of giving appreciations for the team’s good work.

Albert remembered a Sunday; when he was in a shopping mall, he immediately had Mili’s thoughts. His eyes became wider, and his face assumed an alarming look, when a couple just passed him. The woman of the pair had a fragrance that appeared like the smell of the chewing gum. But, the girl wasn’t Mili. He suddenly saw her face in his imaginations, vividly, chewing all the while, and presenting an impish smile for him. He realized that he was falling in love with a girl, whom he had seen only once.

He accidentally met Mili on the street, some days after. She was walking against him, carrying a rainbow coloured umbrella in her hand, and an academicians’ bag on her shoulder. Her glasses were totally dark in the day light. 

Seeing him, she happily smiled. Though it was their first meeting since the ad shoot, he felt that they had been seeing each other for a long time. They spoke sans any apprehension, freely, as if they were friends since long.

“It is a very hot day. If you want, you may come under the shades”, she invited him.

When she came close to him and let him also enter beneath her umbrella, the intense smell of her chewing gum pierced his nostrils. 

“Do you eat chewing gum always?” He asked.

“I don’t! I just chew them”, smiling heartily, she said. Smile is a good match for her face, Albert thought.

“But, somehow I am addicted to it, if that’s what your question meant”, she added.

“It has a pleasant smell”, Albert mentioned.

“A sexy smell?” she asked naughtily.

“I don’t know if it is sexy. Why do you think so? ” Albert posed a question.

“It’s my friends’ opinion”, carelessly she said.

“Oh, you have so many friends to make such comments? ”, he remarked enviously. 

Standing below her umbrella, Albert noticed a pair of playfully smiling eyes through her specs. The smile on her eyes gradually spread towards her cheeks, making it all red and finally reached her mouth, letting her scarlet lips split apart. When her womanly smell – the smell of an excited woman – combined with the smell of her chewing gum stirred up him, his blood boiled. He wanted to simply put a kiss on her lips. When she noticed his eyes assuming a different color, she suddenly said,

“See, I have one more, if you want it”, pulling out a chewing gum from her bag she gave it him.

Albert smelt it. Unwrapping the cover, he put it in his mouth, and began to taste it as if he was chewing something which was very delicious. She laughed at the way he tasted it.

Albert reflected deeply about their initial love blooming days. He was introduced among her friend circle as her best friend. His profession as an ad film maker was acceptable among her scholarly friend circle. She was pursuing MPhil in Sociology. An MPhil graduate, who should belong to the cluster of intelligentsia, how got an interest in modeling? he wondered. 

“I don’t like to be trapped in the restrictions set by any profession,” that was her reason for that.

They both went to eateries on holidays. When they engaged in talks sitting opposite, his sinful eyes wandered unintentionally from her face to downwards, escaping the eye contact they had been maintaining. Albert had guessed that Mili was getting enough hints regarding his growing attraction for her, through some unintentional gestures of passion.

He day-dreamed Mili every now and then. In every such reveries, her luscious figure charmingly invited him to the pastures of pleasure with a gum in mouth, all the time jawing close to his lips, sensually. Every morning, he woke up imagining the smell of a woman’s sweat blended together with the smell of chewing gum.

(To be Continued)

Aug 9, 2013

The Scent of Love-1

Chapter 1
Standing below the Grand Mom Tree in the Rajaji Park, Albert eyed lazily the surrounding greeneries. Seeing the flowers, the rusted old metallic chairs, and the couples who sat on them, he imagined that some of his looming memories were engaged in playing Hide and Seek below the tree trunks and between the flowering plants and creepers. It was a drop of water that fall on his face, as the harbinger of the rain, woke him up from his thoughts.

Albert’s memories traversed back while his eyes scanned the surroundings. Exactly three years back, when he sat waiting at one of those metallic seats, it had been drizzling slightly. That was a soothing, romantic, but pitiful touch of wetness. The couple who sat at the next chair rushed to their vehicle before the flimsy hands of rain could catch them.

That day, Albert with contempt in heart, remembered the agony of not seeing his girl. When he rang up her fully agitated, she picked the phone and said casually and mockingly,

“Can’t you see Albert? It is raining heavily. How could I come outside now?” 

Hours long hopeful wait just shattered. It is like that! When you desire something for long with full of confidence and trust, you would not be able to cope with reality after it is lost. You will still be waiting, but that wait will be an agonizing one, never as sweet as you felt it before.

Remembering those three years old love-stricken times he spent with Mili, Albert remained in the rain that just attained force. It was rain that took his memories three years backwards. Nature always has that wonderful ability to make our memories sway between past and present. He didn’t feel to rush to find a shelter of any of the nearby shops, or in the comfort of his car parked some yards away at the public parking slot. Some years back, he was full of joy irrespective of the seasons, though he wasn’t a financially comfortable person like he is now. But now, the fortune he earned has made him a lazy guy.  All wet in the rain, Albert sat there on the half wall at the entrance of the park. At a distance, he could see the old metallic chair that he used to frequent with Mili during his first years in that city.

Albert learned, apprenticed and became a master in the Advertising field. He was a trainee copywriter in the beginning, and later was appointed in the video division of the same advertising agency.

Albert remembered the day, when a pretty urban girl wearing specs stepped into the shooting floor with some other boys and girls of the same age. She was cast as one of the several models; to pose for a photo shoot as part of a national ongoing media campaign about the importance of putting one’s vote.  She had a face that missed smile very badly, as Albert had observed at the first sight. She used to fondle her straight golden hair over and over again. Hair golden locks scattered all over her face, when she threw her face to the other side pompously. 
Albert had to brief about the assignment to all models individually. When the girl who caught his immediate attention was called, he found that he was being stared by two piercing eyes of her. It was the girl, Mili! When he tried to smile at her, she just nodded posing a grim face. From the moment Albert saw her, he noticed that the girl had a chewing gum in mouth. She might have been using it to make her appear cool and headstrong. When he tried to intimidate her by breaking into her personal zone, the intense aroma of the chewing gum pierced his nostrils. 

Mili was excited, when she was given an overview of the pose that she needed to apply for the photo shoot.  Albert noticed that she had a sensually stimulating womanly aroma, and he found it as a fragrance. The mixed smell of her chewing gum and the smell of her pheromones loafed around him, and tickled his olfactory glands even after she left.

 During the shoots, Albert glanced at her standing behind the shooting crew. When she posed to the suggestions by the director and photographer, she looked at Albert for his approval nod. 

(To be continued) (An attempt to write online novels)

Jul 24, 2013

Password – A Short Film

Vanity Moments completes 6 years in the Blogosphere today. This post is a dedication.

Six years back, when I joined the social media sites out of sheer curiosity, starting with Orkut, and later shifting to Facebook, while creating identities in many of the other popular social media sites, I never imagined that the online living was going to influence me in such a gigantic way. I never envisioned that there I could find a second world, a different way of living, encompassed with all the emotions and relationships that humans possess in the real world.

Six years back, on a July 24 just like today, when I created a space in the Blogopshere with such a silly reason of finding an online space to flaunt an amateur video that I created during my studentship days, I never guessed that the same blog was going to be a part of my life after that. I never knew, as my Blogging life progresses, I was also acquiring a second citizenship in the virtual world, with rights and spirits, with friends around to tease and get teased. I am personally thanking to all those in the virtual world, who have supported me during many occasions of hardships and adversities, with nice words of consolation, and soothing pats on my soul.  

My latest short film Password is a dedicated to my friends and experiences that I earned from the online world. It is completely inspired from my own personal experiences. Since the Blogging habit has led me to building great friends that I met only via online, this is the best day to post it in my blog.

Please take some time to watch the short film online, and let me know what you think about it. Also share with me if any of the incidents narrated in this has touched you in any way.

Thank You!

September 19, 2013: Update

There was a small write-up about the film in Deccan Chronicle on September 14, 2013

Jun 30, 2013

The Story of a Murder

(Previously written for contest)

With nervousness, I stepped in to the police station, when I was summoned by the officer with two stars on his shoulder. The officer, who was a gentlemen, quite unlike the policemen type whom I got acquainted through fiction, and films, flashed a hearty laugh, but covered in an alarming kind of look, as soon I was shown up.

He asked me to take a chair in front of me, which I accepted. He asked my name, and some vital information, and finally asked sharply,

“Mr. Roshan, do you know why you are here?”

I shrugged my shoulders while making a noise indicating the negative sense, by releasing my lips swiftly at the same time letting the air pass out through the slit created between the lips.

“You said you are living in a rented apartment with your half brother named Abel?”

“Not quite so,” I said, and made my point once again clear, “I ‘was’ living there till I left that place a few weeks ago…”

“Okey”, the officer interrupted. “One question, you said he was your half brother. How you both are related?”

“We both have the same father. After my mother was dead, he married again, and Abel was born”

“Okey..Okey..”, he nodded. After thinking for a few seconds, he looked at me and asked me, “And now where you are living?”

“I am not currently living in the city. I stopped the life here and decided to go back to my own past settlements”

“What does that statement mean, Mr.Roshan?” 

“Sir, I did several jobs here, and met with failure most of the times. So I decided to go back to my native place, which happens to be a suburb of this city, tucked some twenty kilometers away from this place”. I told him the correct location. The officer ordered a constable to check the whereabouts I told him. He walked back, and asked me,

“Mr. Roshan, from your words, and from the description about yourself what I understand is that you are a desperate man”

“Yeah, kind of,” I agreed slightly embarrassed.

“Desperate means, doubtful, skeptical, and sometimes very prone to do violent things, like killing a person, even if he is your brother” the officer said watching me keenly through a pair of inquisitive and sparkling eyes.

I was startled and looked at him questioningly.

“Mr. Roshan, your brother Abel was found murdered last night in the same apartment where you both had been living for the past days”, he said.

For some moments, I couldn’t believe my ears. It was like getting a thrash on my head with a hammer. I felt that everything in the room was circling me. I screamed aloud.

“Stop that scream!” the officer ordered. “Because you are the prime suspect.”

“No..No..”, I cried aloud, trying to cover both my ears. The officer walked towards me, sat on the table close to me, and said, “Roshan, we have every reason to count you as the culprit,”

I tried to prevent him from accusing me again. But he kept on asking me questions.

“Roshan, your statements are contradictory. You said you were living away from the city. If so, how the police found yourself clad in blood stained clothes in the morning in front of the same apartment where your brother was stabbed and killed brutally?”

“Sir, I don’t know anything sir. I was rung by him yesterday.  He wanted to see me as he had to share with me some important matters,” I said.

“From where he called,” 

“He called from his cell phone number,” I said. When the officer asked me to proceed, I continued. “As it was not usual for him to share things with me, I decided to not visit the city. But in the evening, I thought I would make a quick visit in the night itself, so that I can go back today morning itself. Besides, I had to collect something from him which I left in the apartment last time when I quit that place. So, I decided to come by the night itself”

“At what time you started your journey from your home?”

“Sir, I caught the last local train, which was at 11 O’clock in the night.”

“That means, probably you could reach the city within half an hour. So by 11.30, you reached your brother’s apartment?”

“No sir, I had to walk all the four kilometers to reach the apartment after getting down at the railway station. Since I did not get any bus that way, I preferred to walk after eating and drinking some tea and snack from the wayside eateries”

“So, at what time you reached your brother’s apartment?”, the officer asked me in a shrewd manner. 

“By 3 O’clock in the morning” I said.

“Let me see”, the officer mused, “I can walk two kilometers in half an hour. That means, you could have taken only 1 or utmost one and a half hours to reach the destination. If the time taken to eat the snacks is counted, you could have reached the apartment by 1 AM. Why did you take two hours more?”

“Sir, on the way back I witnessed an accident near the Rain-Tree Junction. I spent some time there”

“Oh, the tragic car accident happened at night. Okey, you witnessed that incident right?”

I nodded.

“Well, Roshan, Did your brother know that you were in the city. Did you have any phone contacts?” the officer asked.

“Yes, sir. Through our next door neighbor who called up on my phone twice in the night to check if I was on the way”

“Who is that?”, the officer questioned.

“Sir, it is Viky, the newspaper distributer, who lived in the next apartment,” I said.

“Oh, I see. It was this Viky who informed the police in the morning about the murder of your brother. He happened to see your brother soaked in blood through the window, and yourself sleeping in front of the verandah in a half conscious state with blood stained dresses. Mr. Roshan, let me ask you one question, what is the last thing you remember before you slept there?”

“Sir, by 3 O’clock in the morning, I reached the apartment. I knocked at the door, but my brother did not open the door. Since he was a heavy sleeper, I thought I would sleep on the verandah itself” I said with bitterness.

“Okey, do you remember anything strange before you went to sleep” the officer asked.

“Sorry sir, I was very sleepy that night, so I couldn't remember anything. But, I think it started slightly raining just that moment I reached the apartment” I said.

The officer looked at me for some moments. Then he said me in a lower voice. “Mr. Roshan, I don’t know if you are telling the truth. Contrary to that, there are several reasons to believe that you have committed the crime. You have the motive, you have the opportunity, and evidences are against you. But something makes me think that you are telling the truth. To be frank, I had received a prophetic kind of SMS last night on my cell phone from an unknown caller. Seeing the queer message on my cell phone, we tried to track the location of the messenger. But, by that time, we received information about the accident that you witnessed in the night. Since we need to cover the accident area, the case of the unknown caller was forgotten. If you want to see the message, I can show you that,” saying so, the officer pulled out his cell phone from his pocket, and showed a message he received last night.

The message read like this, “Just like Cain killed Abel, and blood quenches its thirst by drinking itself, another bloodshed will take place tonight”

I was locked up for some weeks for the responsibility of my brother’s murder. But the officer went on with his own investigation. Later the truth was surfaced. I was becoming a scapegoat for my own brother’s revenge. He was a drug addict. Cursing me for his failure, he decided to commit suicide and frame me for his murder. At the time I stopped association with him, he was almost doomed, because of his addiction for drugs. The night he planned to commit suicide, he invited me to his apartment. It was he who had sent an unknown SMS to the cell phone of the officer at the nearby police station. He was tracking my movements, by asking the neighbor Viky to call me from his mobile. When I reached the apartment, he was using sedatives and painkillers. He sprinkled blood on me hiding on top of the terrace, which I had mistaken for raining. And after I slept, he inflicted stabs on himself twice, but his death happened due to self poisoning.

Jun 18, 2013

Chitrangada’s Father

(A short story previously written for a contest)

Inspector Meghnad had a tough cold that day. He sneezed and coughed inadvertently. While sneezing convulsively, he glanced at the constables, and saw some of them laughing at him in a hidden manner, seeing him trying to get the towel from his pocket. Though that irritated him a bit, he simply smiled at the head constable Somdev, since they had some years’ long friendship, which was immeasurable by the hierarchies. As they both were posted to that small town station, where criminal activities were scarcely heard of, both had found most often the life there as monotonous.

Head Constable Somdev left the station for his daily rounds. He used to visit the town highlights, meet people, and make friends with the gentlemen and ruffians alike. Meanwhile, Meghnad sent a sentry for one latest weekly from the nearby shop, and began to read once he got it. While reading his favorite novels to kill the time, he accidentally immersed into thoughts and successively into sleep. 

When Meghnad was waked up from the sleep, he saw Somdev in front of him tapping his shoulders, so irreverently, as Meghnad felt. Scratching his eyes, Meghnad tried to get away from his impending sleep. Along with Somdev, an elderly man also was standing there in front of him. Meghnad watched him keenly. May be around his sixties, he had not shaved for several months, and was clad in torn dirty clothing. 

Questioningly Meghnad looked at Somdev. As what Somdev informed, the aged man was trying to commit suicide, not alone, with a 3 year old little girl. Some people of the town found him trying to jump into the river, though initially they did not suspect anything. But, when they understood what he was aiming at, they caught him, and rescued the girl who was crying inconsolably. 

“And where is that girl?” Meghnad queried after a short pause which he utilized for a quick sneeze. 

Another constable brought a little girl, clad in a dirty dress. Seeing the girl, the inspector reflected deeply, taken strongly aback by the sad plight of the poor girl. He questioned the old man. Initially he said nothing. But when Meghnads tone of questioning changed into threatening, the old man opened up, 

“I am Chitrangada’s father”, he said. “This is her child, my granddaughter. She is a little girl with no one to point out as her father”, he began to weep uncontrollably. 

The Inspector shocked. His thoughts traversed back. Chitrangada was in news some four years back. She was abducted by a woman and a man. The man who was the woman’s accomplice in sex trafficking, first trapped Chitrangada, by making her fall in love with him using his sugary words, and gifting her cheap things which worth no money. As she was a silly girl, living with her poor father and mother, those gifts were big things for her. But later, this man and the woman abducted her. He used her for his sexual gratification first, and took her to a resort in a tourism destination. There she was presented to many people, who were adorning some powerful political chairs, and celebrity status. For over a period of one month she was transported from places to places and was presented to so many men as a “fresh piece”. She was in no position to protest, as she was threatened by the woman who abducted her.

When she was saved by some social workers and political activists, she was in a very broken state. The advocates who joined hands with the vile persons argued that she could have escaped several times from the clutches of her trappers, but she didn’t do it as she was enjoying all those men. The arguments raised by the people who rescued her that she was suffering from a kind of Stockholm Syndrome - which is actually the reasonless empathy that a captive feels towards his or her capturers - was not considered seriously by the jurors. In the end, all the persons who tortured her were acquitted and Chitrangada and her family were left with utmost pain and humiliation.

After his serious thoughts about those tragic incidents, Inspector Meghnad asked the old man to tell what happened now to see them both in such a situation.

The old man replied, “What could I have done sir? Upon sympathy, my daughter was given a minor job in a government sector, but everywhere she was humiliated and was mocked. She was a subject of lustful looks of and heinous comments by the vile persons. She was just treated as an object. She was pregnant, after those incidents, and she gave birth to a baby girl, and that girl is now with me”. Everyone in the police room looked that girl sympathetically.
“My daughter was undergoing depression, so one day she simply put an end to her disgraced life by hanging herself. Her mother also died due to cardiac arrest. To escape from that world of shame and tragedy, I decided to put an end to both of our lives,” the old man stopped his narration.

His story put Megnhad into utter confusion. He did not know what to do next. But as a solution, he decided to contact a Children’s Home bearers to take care of the little girl. He decided to not interfere into the case of denying justice to Chitrangada, as the incidence was also involved by some top police officials. Moreover, Meghnad never wanted to spoil his peace of mind.

One day later, the officials from Childrens Home came to take the girl. The old man with tear filled eyes, accompanied them to the car carrying the little girl on his shoulder. He said that it might be his last chance to carry her on horseback, and for her, which might be the last chance to enjoy such horseback rides, while her grand pa treads like a horse carrying her on his broad, yet weak shoulders.

May 14, 2013

Lot of Hard Works

My cousin brother called up one evening and asked me,

“Bro, you are free tonight? I want to introduce someone to you whom you might have nearly forgotten”

“Well, who could be that?” I wondered. He assured me that it would be someone who is related to me.

I was puzzled. A relative, who is so important? But leaving all the worries aside, when I followed him to a flat in the city, I met this person, but I could not recognize him.

But, he at once identified me, and said,

“Ah I remember you, you used to go school every morning carrying your school bag and water bottle. But you were very timid and slow. I can see now that you have improved a lot.”

But I was clueless about this person who knows very personal things about my childhood.

When explained, I identified him. He was my second cousin sister’s husband. I was remembering him. He used to stand in the front portion of his house carrying his little daughter every morning watching us going to school. We never acquainted, and were not very close, but with his facial features, I could still remember him.

When I recognized him, I didn't hide my curiosity, “Oh brother I remember you. It’s nearly twenty years since we met last time.”

He was carrying out some entrepreneurship in the city. He was building a very big hospital coordinating some charitable organizations.

I asked him about his success. He was not very eloquent, but still he was successful in making me understand how he came that far.

He remembered the hardships he faced while trying to achieve something. He was an employee of a bank. 

During free times, he used to do small businesses. But one day his business was broken. He had to resign the job to save himself from his clients.

He ran away to a different place, where he tried to set up a small business, and tried to bring it up. He always had a vision, a dream, and that dream helped him to go forward even in the middle of adversities.

In between all these troubles, he used to visit his family, and by little by little he paid all his debts. Then only he could show his face among the people.

He earned the trust of the charitable organizations. He became successful in contract works. And when I met him he was in the construction works of the biggest hospital in South India.

I still feel that my brother’s success is a model for me. With courage, confidence and trust in the Almighty, he overcame all the difficulties and succeeded in life.

Apr 10, 2013

It’s Normal for Brothers

I still remember the days when I used to wake up enthusiastically in the early mornings and ride on my bike to a fitness centre located not very far away during my growing days in Trivandrum. I had friends there, who used to wait for me in the entrance, or in the locality of the ground where we did jogging and warming exercises before stepping into the roughness of the gymnasium. We used to be the gym mates, who usually help each other when one of us needed a support on the bench press bar, while doing heavy exercises.

Every day on our way back, after working out nearly for one or more hours, I had a regular stopover at a road side open tea shop. Despite of my gym mate’s warning on eating oily delicacies kept open to the air since the breakout of the morning, and tea prepared in not  a very healthy manner, I found my craze for those goodies were getting increased. It became my habit to stop there every morning, and order a tea, while munching something oily by leaning on my bike which was parked close to the tea shop.

This particular day also, I did the same thing. While drinking the tea, seeing the college girls and working women walking to the nearby bus stop I found that I was late that day, at least by half an hour. I saw a few of girls walked past me. But, a few minutes later, my attention was diverted to the direction where the girls walked, when I heard some noises from there. 

Just like every other onlooker, I also rushed to the spot, expecting something accident-like. But, I saw the girl who just passed me was standing there, all in tears in the middle of the crowd, while a local ruffian with a bloody nose tried to escape from another young man who tried to punch him. 

From the explanation from the girl, what I deduced was something like this. This girl used to go to a textile shop nearby, where she worked as salesgirl. Every day she was ogled and became the victim of the lewd comments passed by this dirty ruffian. The first few days, she just tried to forget about the misbehavior by this jobless guy. But, when she felt that he was trying to break the limits, she complained to her brother. 

On this particular day, this brother waited just among us in the pretext of going somewhere or having a morning tea from the tea shop. He saw her sister coming, and she signaled him with a move of her eyebrows that the villain was waiting just a few paces ahead. Her brother put an eye on him, while sipping the last drops of tea. When he noticed the ugly mannerisms from the guy, and the obscene comments his dirty tongue just delivered, he put the glass somewhere, and attacked the hooligan with clenched fist. 
The first punch itself was on his nose. So he couldn’t see where the punches were coming in. He knew he was being beaten up by someone very energetic, while a few people tried to separate them. The girl, all in tears, explained everything to the curious crowd, and the gathering was dissolved in a few minutes, when the local chap got a warning from the law-abiding crowd on his misbehavior for the final time.

I still remember her brother’s timely involvement and the risk he took in order to save his sisters pride.  Salute to him! He is a real soldier who stood for women.

Mar 4, 2013

A Visit to Dream City

(This post is written and posted in collaboration with CouponDunia)
How many of you know that before I started living in the Cochin city, I had been leading the life of a part time apprentice , a post graduate student, a journalist, an art enthusiast, and a fitness freak in Kerala's capital city, Thiruvananthapuram? Long term readers must be refreshing their memories right now about my curious narratives that centered around my Thiruvananthapuram experiences. After reaching Cochin, the creativity never performed the same. That may be an understatement. I might be getting better feedback for my write ups written based on the life and times in Cochin than what I got for the stories about Thiruvananthapuram days. But, as I was growing up, the excitement at the end of each post was lessening gradually. Perhaps, that may be the reason why I think Cochin didn't inspire me creatively.

The Movie
When The Movie was screened
However, I recently made a 5 days long visit to Thiruvananthapuram, the city where I believe I had my second childhood.  My short film 'The Movie' was screened in the Competition Section of the reputed Signs National Festival for Short Films and Documentaries. I found it as a good opportunity to go to the place which helped me grow practically, and see the changes happened since I left it before closely two years.

The journey was good, as Federation of Film Fraternity of India, who was the organizer of the fest, provided me two side train ticket and accommodation in an apartment. It was a great opportunity to meet some of the veteran persons behind the fest who belonged to the Art House stream of Malayalam cinema.

Let us leave the matter of cinema. I was feeling very nostalgic while walking through the once dear and familiar paths of Thiruvananthapuram. I passed through different places and corners of the city, where some of my beautiful memories were residing peacefully. When I went to the two storied building which was my dwelling place, I found no familiar faces, but that didn't disappoint me. Since I had no vehicle to travel on my own, many times I requested for two wheeler lifts, and majority of the Thiruvananthapuram men did not find it as a disturbance to help me. On such pinion rides, I glanced across the corners and places in a nostalgic mood which were once my hangouts.

Feb 10, 2013

Kings for Hire

As the celebrated childhood days had been undergoing its inadvertent fadeout, I suddenly woke up and started writing a playful animal story in order to rescue the magnificence of the immature days from dying away. As I recollected in my previous post, writing animal stories was the favorite pastime of my childhood days.  So, if I stop writing such stories, that simply signifies that I lost my childhood. I didn't want to submerge such a beautiful phase of my life into a bottomless chaos made of destiny, nature and time. And so, as a final attempt, I tried to scribble something. The outcome was qualitatively better than my prior writings, but it possessed only the one third of innocence that my earlier stories had done. Here is the synopsis of my last animal story written several years ago. It was written in the format of a drama, and was divided into five or more acts.

In the first scene, all the animals were marching to the daily conference that happens in front of the Lion King’s home. This particular day, they all were shocked hearing a news from the Minister Fox, regarding their greatly loved and adored King. According to a Messenger Monkey who reached that forest from one of the neighboring forests representing its aged reigning Lioness, the Lion King had to resign from the present forest, and had to take over the charge of the neighboring forest. The eldest of all animals was Uncle Bear, who had some memories regarding the claim by reigning Lioness of the neighboring forest. The Lion King’s grandfather actually was from the neighboring forest.  He had some quarrels with his father, so he came to this forest, with his wife and son (the Lion King’s father). The old Uncle Bear was a toddler then, and since he and the Lion Kings father were of the same age, they became great friends. As Uncle Bear claimed, it was him who named the Lion King on his birth.  

The Lion King also was very sad just like his subjects to leave the forest. But, as per the order of the forest, the words by the elder ones had to be obeyed. The most desperate one was the Uncle Bear, who always wanted his surroundings to be in order. A King to rule the forest (preferable a lion), was what he always wanted. So, he decided to do something to make the Lion King stay in the forest. Along with his two disciplines, a Cheetah and a Cat, he left the forest in the coverings of the night.  

The next day morning, at the daily conference, the Messenger Monkey came back to the forest to take the Lion King to the neighboring forest. The Lion King was so sad, and so were his subjects. But, the Messenger Monkey was so obstinate (there is even a synonym in Malayalam for obstinacy that is connected to monkeys), and he stuck on his claim raised by the reigning Lioness of his forest. Just then, the Old Bear, Cheetah, and the Cat, entered the conference area. All the animals were surprised seeing the three with two lion cubs. Uncle Bear informed the Messenger Monkey that he could took one of those lion cubs to his forest, but the Lion King should remain in their forest. The Messenger Monkey was okay with this suggestion. But, the cubs were not okay. They both were so scared seeing other animals and the greatness of the Lion King. They said they wanted to be neither the king nor the minister. Just let them go, they pleaded.

The animals were so curious seeing the awkward behavior of the cubs. Uncle Bear, the Cheetah and the Cat explained the animals how they got these two cubs. They found these twin lions from the circus company set among the neighboring human settlement. They attacked the tent in the night and rescued the lions and other captive animals, who were all on their way to that forest.

The animals tried to make the cubs understand the benefits of being a king. The lion kids initially were afraid of even the rabbit, but when Uncle Bear boosted them with courage, they understood they were lions and were destined to be kings. So, they went to the platform along with Lion King and the Minister Fox. The Minister Fox was just curious, so he mocked them to test their courage, but when the cubs roared out of anger, the Minister Fox got scared. So, the lion kids were ready to be the King. But who will go to the neighboring forest to take charge.  Initially both the cubs insisted the other one to become the king, but later they both wanted to be the king. 
The Uncle Bear solved this problem too. While waiting for the Cheetah and the Cat to bring the cubs from the circus tent, Uncle Bear had met another monkey from a different forest. The monkey also was a messenger, whose country also needed a lion king. Though Uncle Bear was not sure about the availability of more kings, he had asked the monkey to visit the Conference area the next morning.

Just then, the second Messenger Monkey also reached there. Seeing the celebration mood of the animals, he got surprised. Everyone happily invited him to the conference area. The cubs were ready to go to two different forests, after the Lion King assured them that the three forests would remain in friendship forever.

Jan 31, 2013

Long Forgotten Stories

The first month of 2013 is at its closure, but still I haven’t written anything for the year. People are there who think this is not an issue, but it is certainly an issue for me. While scanning the cobwebbed corners of my memory box for some past experiences that I might have missed while chronicling my childhood memories through this blog, I suddenly thought about a dream that I saw when I was very young.

That was the time, when I used to scribble childish stories for self pleasure. The dream I saw was something related to that. After writing stories motivated by the popular children’s magazines, I had this curious tendency to believe that there were some unwritten stories remaining in some of the bags and bundles of my childhood trashes in the house and its premises where I had my upbringing. The characters of my stories usually were animals and birds who thought, behaved and walked like human beings. But unfortunately all of my animal characters had an unjustifiable disgust towards the human kind. The names of those characters were very funny and at the same time silly, I remember.

More and more stories featuring the characters molded in the same replica were written, but was not totally satisfying for me. You wouldn't know the degree of crappiness you write, but still you have this dumbfounding belief that whatever you produced was no lesser than the classics. (I still have that belief!) There was a tendency to repeat the plot and type of characters in the following stories also, after finding an intimacy with a self authored story. Written stories were read, over and over again, and sometimes I was bored with the same kind of stories and narratives. Secretly I wished that if some other stories were kept hidden in some depths of my trash bag, which were completely or nearly forgotten, even though they were written by myself.

In my dream, I found a very old notebook with full of stories composed by a very younger me in a thoroughly illegible handwriting. But, I remember, it had that cuteness, which is peculiar to childhood days. I found it in a very awkward, very unlikely place. The season was the beginning of monsoon. Very small and moderately bigger springs used to sprout at some corners of our farmlands. The water was crystal clear, and the sight of its smooth flow with burbling sound was incidentally inciting thirst.  I found my forgotten childhood writing from within one of those springs which used to have their recurring appearance during rainy season, every year. When the rain was slightly down, I walked to a nearby rocky area, and found this old book lying open projecting some of those silly animal names to the world through the transparent water, as if its intention was to belittle my craziness in front of the whole world. 

After writing 100 plus blog posts, I feel that there are still many blog posts which are not completely by-hearted by me. You know, I have this curious tendency of reading my own blog posts time and time again till I find reading them one last time as a completely boring job.
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