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04 December, 2010

The Mystery (Of the Missed calls)





  • This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 17; the seventeenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

10:45 PM

Tring Tring.
Hello??” “Who? Jappi?? No, I am not Jappi, I am Arvind; sorry wrong number

Tring Tring.
Hello? Sorry this is not Kattreguppa Junkyard, what? No we don’t buy or sell scrap metal

Newspaper?? " Arrrrrrrrrrrrgh, "you wanna sell it? Hell, Ok I will pay you 10 rupees per Kg ok? No, not a pie more than that, if you are Ok come to my shop Today evening”  .


Thank God this wasn't tough. Atlast I could ward him off. Let him go searching for the Newspaper Buyer's store and raise hell about the bargain, Not my mistake *Notorious and Irritated*


Phewwwwwwwwwwwwwww !!!!
This is my routine life, Every wrong number in this country connects to my phone and  there is nothing I can do about it. My doctor uncle asks me to look at the positive side - It helps increase my patience and control my blood pressure. You belive that?? Blood pressure my foot. If I get another such call, I will… I will… I will wriggle his neck and cut him to pieces. But,  If it is a gal it’s still Ok, I can flirt for a while ;) *notorious and plotting*
How I wish if a sweet and cute girl calls me… oh here goes it again.

Tring tring, Tring tring.
Yes? What?  No, this is not  SAVE SUICIDERS phone line” (Now you know where the Jhoota hi sahi team copied the idea from :P )." Hey,  what? No , please!  listen to me, don’t kill yourself. Hello? hello? you there? Hello? Hello?”. 


Goodness Gracious!!  did she kill herself? What did I do? I could have simply lied and saved a life. I can never forgive myself  for having done this.

The next day Bangalore Mirror , a local newspaper reported a young girl’s suicide case on front page and that is all I needed to go weak in the knees. I killed her. If there was a rewind option, how I’d love to talk to her and convince her not to trade her life so cheap.

I was down with fever the next few days. On that, my friends narrating me stories of the haunting ghosts didn’t help a bit. What’s worse was those Mysterious MISSED CALLS.  They weren’t missed calls actually. I was  afraid to receive calls from unknown numbers lest the ghost of her talk to me and question  why I didn’t stop her?
To aggravate things, a pattern has developed in last few days. I get calls every night at 10:45 PM from an unknown number, A single unknown number. Was I suffering the same like Farhan Akhtar in Karthik calling Karthik? May be. I checked with family and friends. I got an equivocal answer, we won’t dare play a prank when you are going through such a trauma. I also noted that they were actually MISSED CALLS. Two rings and the call gets cut.

I am going freaking crazy. I need a way out. I know the only way is to face it. It is 10.44 and my phone will ring in next 60 seconds.I will receive the call today, I mean tonight ( Can’t help the confusion, I am already shaky and afraid, fear creeping in from all corners). Tonight, I will talk to her and confess, ask for forgiveness. What could go wrong?  Worst, her ghost may take my life and I will become a ghost myself and haunt someone else. But how bad that can be? Not bad than the present state I am in. Need not spend my nights awake and have nightmares during the day. I will do it. Come what may, I will pick the call before the second ring. Yes, come on. Bring it on, 5 seconds to go, 4, 3 ,2,1 and trrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrring.


Click “Hello?”

Total, absolute and perfect silence.
It is less than a second’s silence and 1000 thoughts flood my brain. Is it really her? Is it her ghost? Will a hand reach out the phone and choke my breath? Will someone realise that I am dead by morning? Who will I haunt? I don’t have an enemy as such….. so  on and so forth.
Coming back to the phone call , with all strength I mutter again  “H-H-hello??”
And  then I hear those words

Hi Janu, where were you I have been trying to reach you for past few days. You don’t respond to my calls?”
Me: “What?”
She:  “You know I called you yesterday and day before and the before that also. We saw you with some gal at the pani puri stand out my hostel. I thought you had come to meet me. Who was she??


I was confused. Her ghost was playing with me before putting me to rest. But there was no point beating round the bush. So I said  “I am sorry. I tried to stop you but you were already dead by then. I am serious I wanted to help you but before I could say something you were dead

She: “ Ha ha, you are kidding right? trying to avoid my question? I wont give up until you tell me who she was, else I will call your parents and tell them you were going around with some gal even after being betrothed to me”.

Hell !! this ghost is really in some funny mood . I said again “ I am sorry, please don’t kill me, I didn’t mean to let you die, I haven’t slept since that day, I mean night, I am repenting, please forgive  me, please please. I want to live longer please don’t kill me” I panicked.

She responded You freaky moron, aren’t you  Hameed my Fiance?”. 


I was like “ Hameed who the hell is Hameed?"

She  Aren’t you really Hameed? Oh shiii

I let out a huge sigh and  looked down at my WET pants. Everything wasted, sleep, food  energy, time  and lifetime's achievement  of never having wet my pants before. All for a Bloooooooooooooody wrong number.

Sorry. Wrong Number”. I said and cut the call
Heck!!!!!



  • The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

    03 December, 2010

    Let there be no light


    She woke up from her limbo in absolute jet black darkness. She felt severe pain in her head and had difficulty with expressions on her face. Too tired to move she just lay there. A chill went up her spine. Only then it dawned on her that she was lying naked on a cold floor, as if in an ice container. She started to crawl on all four limbs, exploring the place with her sense of touch. Every tissue in her body was frost, going immobile. She dragged her body with all her strength to find an opening and get out into warmth and heat. At times she fell back gasping for breath but the will to survive made her go forth.  She sensed something soft like an organ- a human ear; she wanted to sense the rest of the body but it was all by itself; as if cut off from someone’s head. She wandered a bit further and fear crept in. There was more than one pair of human ears lying around. She shuddered and moved chaotically rolling over and crashing with things she realized to be hair wigs, human heads and tongues or may be spleen or pieces of liver. She was frenzied and kept rolling to get far away when at last she sensed something solid plastic and not soft. She hit the switch. A bulb glowed over her and she was seeing herself in the mirror. Her dark long hair was gone, replaced by  a big gap in her skull, she realized her nose wasn’t hers’ and there were stitches around it, her dark eyes were replaced with hazel ones and her ears, they were missing. She shrieked and collapsed.

    Her organs were lying around in one of those heaps.


    This post is written for BLOGESHWAR  and Anubhooti

    01 December, 2010

    Erin Brokovich

    ----------------------------------------------------------
     Title: Erin Brokovich

    Tagline: She brought a small town to its feet and a huge corporation to its knees.

    Cast: Albert Finney, Julia Roberts, David Brisbin

    Writer: Susan Grant

    Director: Steven Soderbergh

    ----------------------------------------------------------
    Before I talk about anything else I would like you to know that Julia Roberts has won Oscar(2001), Golden Globe(2001),BAFTA Film Award(2001), Blockbuster Entertainment Award(2001), Broadcast Film Critics Choice Award(2001), Empire Award-UK(2001), LVFSCA Sierra Award(2000), London Critics Film Circle Award (2001), Los Angeles Film Critics Association award (2000), MTV Movie Award (2001), National Board of Review-USA award(2000), SanDiego Film Critics Sociey Award (2000), Screen Actors Guild Award(2001), Teen Choice Award(2001) for the best Actress for her title role in Erin Brokovich. There have been numerous other nominations and awards for this film, all in 48 nominations and 28 awards. I think that conveys a lot.

    This film is based on the true story of Erin Brokovich, who is responsible for the largest lawsuit to date, $330 million, against a company that poisoned a town's drinking water. Erin Brokovich, a single mother of three children who is into dire financial conditions. She lands a job as a filing clerk at her Lawyer Ed Masry’s office. After working a few weeks at the firm, Erin comes across a real estate file containing medical records. With her curiosity piqued, Erin convinces Ed to allow her to investigate the connection, and she treks out to the desert town of Hinkley. And from here starts the passionate struggle and journey of Erin to sue PG&E.

    Erin is foul mouthed, daring, compassionate and a winner who gives in everything she has for a cause she believes in and, she believes in getting justice to the victims of this scam. She gives her life to this case. Her family is falling apart but her sheer determination keeps here going. She talks to all the people of the Hinkley town, around 640 families take her word and believe in her determination. She is blunt and not at all sophisticated, she abuses all the lawyers and other respectful people, she knows the case details of all the families, their addresses, their phone numbers, family details and their miseries BY HEART . I am sure no other actress could have done this role better than Julia Roberts. She slips into the skin of Erin and lives it to the dot.

    It is a must watch movie for a connoisseur of world class cinema.
    Movies like this one, come rare, don’t miss it









    21 November, 2010

    Friends

    This post was originally written for Gingerchai.com and it is written in exactly 300 words





    Having lost his wife to atrocities of poverty five years back; he was the loneliest person on earth. He had such a zilch of presence that his demise would not have mattered to anyone. Anyone, except one or two occasional pedestrians passing by the traffic signal, opposite the big shopping mall; where he pestered them for alms. If not begging, he would while away his time seated on the pavement and watching the mannequin day and night. The lifeless wooden doll replied with equal intensity staring back. It would communicate silently with eyes, breaking away the contact only when one of the storekeepers changed its position or when it was being dressed or undressed. Every time, the dresses changed, it would seek the approval of the beggar and he would nod his compliments in return; his lips, a tad parted as if in exclamation and awe of the dress. In truth, he was happy to have some company. It was comforting enough to know that there was someone aware of his existence. By now, he was sure that the doll would scan the roads and miss him, once he was gone. It was comforting enough to know that his existence mattered to something.

    Fortunes changed when a frustrated passerby dropped a lottery ticket in his bowl and the ticket won him amounts he can never define. He was rich overnight. Mansions, servants, cars, women – he could have bought anything with his newly found riches but, all he did was to barge into the shopping mall and bargain for the mannequin, buying it for himself and himself alone. It was the only companion and the only friend he needed to live. Some friendships are simply invaluable. They were friends when he was indigent and they will be friends in riches too. 

    14 November, 2010

    RTI act,2005: An Introduction




    No democracy is literally complete until people are given the participating power and imparted knowledge of the  day to day governance. India took one step in this direction on 15th July 2005 when Right to Information Act was passed by the parliament which came into full force on 12th October 2005.

    Hitherto, Information disclosure in India was restricted by the Official Secrets Act 1923 and various other special laws, which the new RTI Act now relaxes.

    The Right to Information Act, 2005 (RTI) is a law enacted by the Parliament of India "to provide for setting out the practical regime of right to information for citizens." The Act applies to all States and Union Territories of India, except the State of Jammu and Kashmir - which is covered under a State-level law. Under the provisions of the Act, any citizen (excluding the citizens within J&K) may request information from a "public authority" (a body of Government or "instrumentality of State") which is required to reply expeditiously or within thirty days. The Act also requires every public authority to computerise their records for wide dissemination and to proactively publish certain categories of information so that the citizens need minimum recourse to request for information formally.

    This is by far, the only act that has been passed in a period of 3 working days. It was chaired and passed by Loksabha on 12th July 2005, Rajsabha passed this act on 13th July 2005. It was approved by the President of India on 15th July 2005.This act is a very powerful tool for people’s governance; proved by the tacit understanding that bureaucrats do not very much support this act as it brings their erratic modus operandi to light and thus exposing all their malpractices.

    As the citizens of this country, it is right to know the nitty gritty stuff pertaining to this all powerful act. Also it’s our imminent duty and responsibility to make use of this act and help bring in good governance to realize the true democracy.

    I am going to do my part by writing a series of articles on this topic and help spread the awareness about this act. When and how are you going to play yours?

    10 November, 2010

    Promise Me by Harlan Coben

    _________________________________________
    Author: Harlan Coben

    Genre: Covert operations, thriller, adventure, action

    Original Title: Promise Me (Myron Bolitar, #8)

    Series: Myron Bolitar #8

    Setting: United States
    _________________________________________

     This book was a random pick and it was my First Harlan Coben book and what a book it was. Like a chocolate that melts when placed in your mouth and the taste grows on you.
     
    Meet Myron Bolitar, the very famous basket ball player from Livingston High school who made to NBA and due to knee injury could get the fame he deserved. There is another side to Myron, a Vigilante, batman like but he doesn’t have the gadgets ,the super hero costume or the batmobile. But what he has is the moral dilemma as akin to Batmans’s (ofcourse not as melodramatic as batman), a will to safe guard the innocent and a psychic, rich, well-trained and well-connected friend Win.

    The book begins with the spotting of a missing gal, a 18 year old adult from Livingston high and then goes on to Myron love life, his new found Love’s daughter and her friend, the daughter of one his school days friend. The school year is almost over and the college Hysteria has taken over. Parents and children alike are anxiously trying to get their destinies fixed, get into respected and high profile colleges and obviously kids under pressure commit mistakes, drink, get junkied, drive in such semi-concious state and few end up in tragic accidents.

    But Myron is determined to help keep his friends’ children safe, and so he makes two neighborhood girls promise him: If they are ever in a bind but are afraid to call their parents, they must call him. The call comes on a fateful night and he helps one of these girls to the safety of her friend’s house . Thinks change, Myron’s world goes topsy-turvy. The girl goes missing and he is held responsible. TO fight his moral guilt and to keep his promise of safe guarding the girl he brings out his heroics along with this friend Wind to find the girl and there on unfolds the thrilling and fast paced plot.

    This is the eight book in the Myron series and facts say that this series has been brought to life after a break of six years. Yes, this is one of the best page turners I have read in last few months and yes, I am going to begin from the start, read all the seven prior adventures of Myron Bolitar and also read other stand alone novels by Harlan Coben.

    I suggest you do the same. Hurry, get started.
    _________________________________________________________________________

    Paperback, 489 pages
    Published March 1st 2007 by Signet (first published 2006)
    ISBN 0451219244 (ISBN13: 9780451219244)
    _________________________________________________________________________

    06 November, 2010

    Celebrations


    • This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 16; the sixteenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.





      Chandrabhanu was the son of a marine officer staying in the apartments. Deepavali for him meant a great deal, the biggest and greatest festival. Ofcourse everything translated to the season of splurging, shopping clothes, food, parties, sweetmeats and loads of crackers.

      Jayadeva or jappi stayed along with his granny at the thatched make-shift roofing shelter just behind the apartments.  Granny was his only living relative. She was an old withered woman who wasn’t suitable for the labour work. She’d find some odd jobs of cleaning at functions and parties that helped them earn a living; Otherwise water was their regular bread and butter with a meal or two in few weeks.To use the term Poverty or Below Poverty will be to describe riches in comparison to Jappi’s life

      Deepavali meant a great deal to Jappi too. It was celebration time.
      Celebration is a relative term, contextual to be precise. For Chandrabhanu it meant exuberance and riches beyond measure. Mouth watering delicacies, exotic food and party at a pricey restaurant and high priced clothes to match the ambience. Not to forget, the best of the best crackers.

      On the other hand, for Jappi, celebration meant expectation. Expectation, to put a temporary pause to ever lasting hunger. Expectation-not about the taste of food but about tasting the food, the leftovers. To feast on the leftovers and remnants(after the party), either handed to them by the rich or at times, even the food thrown out of the high windows of  multi-storeyed mammoth apartments. The expectation- not to choose and buy classy clothes, but to wear clothes that are not torn from a hundred corners. They may be used or cheap quality new clothes, thanks to mercy of the likes of Chandrabhanu’s parents who donate on the eve of the festival. The expectation – not to burn the crackers but to watch them burst and then scavenge the paper pieces for the unburnt or failed crackers . To pick them and try to burn them when the rich are dozing off, to save his embarrassment of not being able to buy his own.

      Jappi's is a true story from my childhood. There are hundreds of such children who taste food only during Festivals, millions who do not have clothes. This festival lets pledge to celebrate along with Jappi and his likes. Think twice (before splurging and wasting), that we can help them have a memorable festival by spending a little less on ourselves and share the resrt with them. This Deepavali, let us bring light and happiness to these poor people and be a part of their CELEBRATIONS. This Deepavali lets share some light to make lives.

      Happy Deepavali        



      The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

        03 November, 2010

        Otiose Dreams Part 2


        This is second post in the Series Otiose Dreams. To read Otiose Dreams Part1 click here



        This event takes place somewhere after the end of 6th book and before the beginning of 7th book of Harry Potter Series.

        Dumbledore is dead and Harry says Snape killed him. But, the Ministry of magic wants an official confirmation and hence a bench is commissioned to investigate Dumbledore’s murder. Tenders are received from across the globe and through all ages of human existence. The tenders from 21st Century India are kept aside because of the super corrupt reputation they carry along. After much deliberation the most famous fiction detective Mr. Sherlock Holmes is hired for the job.

        Sherlock has been busy time travelling, helping the Time traveller’s wife decipher an Enigma called her husband. During this period he has travelled to forbidden places and got mixed up with issues he had no right to meddle with and a result is simultaneously investigating multiple cases.

        He has arrived at Hogwarts along with his faithful friend Dr Watson and they are working at the crime scene.

        Holmes: It seemed to me that a careful examination of the room and the lawn might possibly reveal some traces of this mysterious individual. You know my methods, Watson. There was not one of them which I did not apply to the inquiry. And it ended by my discovering traces, but very different ones from those which I had expected.

        Watson: I think I have heard it before *retrospecting*

        Holmes: Yes. It is from one of my stories. You see Watson, the folks around here know not much about us, we can reuse most of our conversations.

        And then there was this sound “To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure”.

        Watson: Where is this coming from?

        *Holmes ignores the echoes as well as Watson’s frivolous thoughts*

        Holmes: Come here I see a board here, over this door. Can you help me read it Watson?

        Me: I have surely heard this before. But where? Ah just if I had google to help me here.

        Holmes: Watson, come here. I have found it, I have done it again. I have resolved the case. * jumping as never before, his exultant dance would have embarrassed Chris tucker from Rush hour movie*

        Watson: Excellent!! Who is the murderer?

        Holmes: *annoyed and complacent* what murderer? I have found out where Keanu Reeves, the Neo is lost. Quick quick, lets dispatch a message to the Oracle, but make sure it is addressed as “ To the Oracle, third movie In matrix trilogy

        Watson: *confused and irritated* what the hell are you talking about? You have gone bonkers dude, get some rest .

        Me: You are right Watson, I think he has had an overdose of the dog medicine he was trying the other day.

        Holmes: Comrade, listen to me first. During one of travels with the time traveller’s wife, we landed in the oracle’s house in matrix part-3, Neo is locked somewhere. Look at this, it is room of requirements, I can get Neo here and I will take him back to Oracle . Hurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrray

        Watson: That’s great. We can come back here often to find answers to most of our questions *winks*

        The echo is heard again “To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure”. This time a bit louder

        Watson: I am sure I know this from the past, I think I read it in one of the books.

        Me: concentrate hard, where have u read it. Come on Muddassir, you know have read this before. But Where?

        The echo grows louder and sharper “To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure”.

        Out of nowhere appear the trolls, so do the spiders. Watson and Sherlock standing back to back, spiders surrounding them.

        Me: Wait! That is supposed to be Harry and Ron with Spiders, isn’t it? Whatever, but why are my hands tied to the flag posts? And who is so pathetically singing ‘Haath mujhe dedeThakur’? * I look around* Is it really Gabbar Singh? 20 feet tall? Since when, does Gabbar have four heads??Woah, hang on!! why is he holding those huge monstrous barbarian axes over my shoulders? Is he going to chop off my shoulders? Does he think I am the Thakur? I don’t even have a single strand of white hair forget a streak of white hair. Mummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmy!!!! save me!

        All three of us are sweating. We may be dead any moment now. This is not the death I wanted, not so soon. And then, a loud voice announces

        “Welcome to Joker’s maze, this is Riddler speaking. Solve these riddles and save your head, Shy away and you shall be dead. Now, now, tell me how, you will make the ghosts fall in love?”

        Me: Now that is a difficult one. Er, make them watch ShahRukh- Kajol Movies?

        Holmes: Apply one can of Axe deodorant on the male Ghost, specifically, the chocolate flavor.

        Me: What? The ‘AXE-EFFECT’ ? It doesn’t work with humans, you think it will work with ghosts? Believe me, my friend Deepak tried it. Instead of being wooed he was shooed away. In fact he is planning to sue the company now.

        Riddler: Wonderful, Wonderful.To you I raise a toast, now tell me, tell me; how will you kill a ghost??

        Me: That is very easy. 1. Contract the Ghost Rider to kill them 2. Make them watch Chandni Chowk to China and RGV Ki Aag    3. Ask them to work with Suresh Kalmadi to organize the next Olympics in India. You see, the options go on and on.

        The Riddler begins to laugh sonorously. Multiple things happen the next instant.

        A lion jumps in front of me and The four headed monstrous and lamenting Gabbar raises his 200 pound axes, the spiders pounce on Holmes and Watson.I take a step back to stay away from the lion and fall in a pit.

        A loud shrieking voice says“To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure”.

        I hit the ground ,hurt my head and back. I wake up startled. I am breathing heavily and sweating profusely. I take a minute or two to return back to senses and understand what is going on.

        That is when I realize that I fell down my cot, hit the floor, hurt myself and it was my alarm shrieking in Dumbledore’s voice “To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure”. I push a hand forward and shut the alarm. Sit back and take a heavy deep and long breath.

        Phew!!! Me and my dreams.



        This post has been written for Blogeshwar 5.0 and Anubhooti  

        26 October, 2010

        Good Over Bad


        I have been thinking of an incident that will do justice to this topic and I have at last decided I will narrate something we witnessed during our childhood. The names have been changed well enough to disguise the religion, race or any other clue that will give away the details of my friend.

        Around 15 years ago, Rameez’s father demised given the alcoholic he was. They were rich, his mother young and beautiful and without a guy to man the house. His relatives were trying all sorts of tricks to grab his father’s property – trying to marry his mother to one of his uncles and also trying to get Rameez engaged to one of their daughters, at such young age of 10-12 years.

        Being kids, we didn’t realize that this was a serious predicament, but now when I retrospect, I have profound empathy for his mother. Fed up of constant bickering, they decided to relocate and that is when they shifted to my native, three of them; Rameez, his mother and his granny. They rented a small house and Rameez was admitted to my school.

        They say little enemies and little wounds must not be despised but what if fortune has stopped being your friend and luck has a decidedly grudge on you? They were successfull in running away from those nasty relatives of his father’s but there was no hiding from misery. Within months, a goon started troubling them, threatening them to vacate the house as his uncle wanted to occupy it. Rameez’s granny was a woman like I had never seen before, she was determined to protect her daughter and grandson at any cost. She put up a brave fight, daring the goon legally. The goon was bound by law and they continued to stay at that house but the goon had decided to not to let go of this insult so easily. Life became harder for them so much so that, I even doubt his mother repented her decision of leaving her husband’s town.

        But things changed, the goon’s family was faced with adversity; I am not very clear on what went wrong, the best I can recall is that one of his victims had set his house on fire. No one wanted to show mercy to him given his track record. Rameez’s granny stepped in, she provided his family with food and shelter. She also lent them money to reconstruct their house. Kindness, like grain, increase by sowing. This was the grain his granny had sown. The goon went on to become the greatest strength of Rameez’s family. He helped them get back to Rameez’s father’s house and own what was rightfully theirs. With this goon fellow on their side, Rameez’s paternal relatives preferred to stay away from Rameez and his mother.

        It has been almost a decade since I lost touch with Rameez but I am sure the good of his Granny, the kindness she sowed would have enveloped the paternal relatives as well.




        15 October, 2010

        Blog Action Day 2010 - Water



        I generally do not write travelogues, it's not my cup of tea. But today I want to quote one of my experiences in Zurich, Switzerland. I had been to Switzerland on a company sponsored visit. It is an awesome place,nothing less than a dream land. Of the umpteen number of things I have observed here, is that a bottle of beer is much cheaper than that compared to a bottle of water. 

        This struck me deep and I always wanted to join a cause to help save water and  help reach it to the needy.Blog Action day is conducting this water day on 15th October 2010. I request all my dear friends to sign the petition and help this  noble cause.






        12 October, 2010

        A Million Little Pieces


        Author: James Frey

        Genre: Biography, Drug Addiction, Rehab

        Guidance: May not be suitable for Kids

        What do you know about addiction, in particular, addiction to drugs? You have seen it in cinema and sometimes you would have read about it as well. But do you really know what addiction to drugs is? What exactly it means to try and get rehabilitated? What and how are these rehabilitation centers? What kind of a fight a rehab patient puts up against the temptation to do it again? Just once? In a small quantity that wouldn’t hurt?

        Yes, probably you could have read and seen it on TV or in movies but, this book takes it to next level. Intense, unpredictable, explicit and face-the-truth-in-your-face story of Mr. James Frey during the days of his addiction as well as during the rehab, ‘A Million Little Pieces’ is a true account (with a bit of creative freedom) of James Frey’s life.

        Though there are many rumors of the facts being embellished, the book makes for an engaging read. It talks of all the troubles an addict goes through, his rub off with the law enforcing bodes, criminal charges against him and despite all these he manages to go on. My words may not do enough justice to the story, so let me quote few of my friends’ take on this book.

        “The book made me laugh, made me ill, it shocked and saddened me, and I cried at the end. It made me appreciate NOT having to go through what James Frey went through”

        “A Million Little Pieces is an uncommonly genuine account of a life destroyed and a life reconstructed. It is also the introduction of a bold and talented literary voice.”

        I will let the book do rest of the talking, go get hold of it for if you are a connoisseur of good writing, you will never regret having bought this book or having read this book.

        09 October, 2010

        The Receptionist


        Context: The below wordings are the musings of an inebriated drunkard to other drunkards he is partying with



        There sits a lady wicked
        At the gates of heaven and hell
        She wears high heels, huge ear rings,
        Dark lipstick and rimmed glasses as well.
        She has dark eyes, crooked jaw
        And sports a snotty smile.
        She is corrupt, she is cunning,
        She is uncouth, prejudiced and vile.

        Sitting behind the ominous desk,
        She helps people to their place in afterlife,
        Some accept happily
        And some others grimace.
        There are those who cajole her
        Either by gifts or by praise;
        To let them pass by
        Through the forbidden gates.

        We can do the same, my brethren
        And change our luck,
        Because the game of fate
        Is won or lost by a nip or tuck.
        There is hope my people
        For now let’s sin and rejoice
        We can win over the receptionist,
        With a deception or devoice.


        04 October, 2010

        My First IndiBlogger Meet



        Do you live in a dream world? I do.

        Brandbull, msigeek, Leo, Avada kedavra, Evil Me, anshprat, dhempe, dkris, flyfiddlesticks, addy, Mag[m] are few of the people I know by name. I had not met them, not before yesterday. I knew they were of my kind, unique and special –netizens, bloggers and crazy freaks. I had known them through blogs, twitter and other online social forums. I related with them and I knew they relate with me.

        When Indiblogger announced that there will be a blogger’s meet @ Bangalore, it was a special feeling. I was participating in an Indimeet for the first. I would at last meet these people in person, see them in blood and flesh, talk to them, share with them and enjoy. It is rare to spend time anticipating what all could take place when you meet the people for the first time.Especially with the kind of work pressure my Mundane and routine jobs offers me. But I happily whiled the time day-dreaming and believe me it was worthwhile.

        There will be many posts detailing the nitty gritty stuff about the meet and I do not wish you add extra garbage bytes to the digital memory space this post will take up.

        I will try and make it different. Someone made a comment that we are a diverse group and oh boy! It was diverse group of about 250 odd people sitting there on the 7th floor of Fortune Park JP celestial.

        Diversity of religion – Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs, Chrisitan and atheists.

        Regional diversity –Kannadigas, Tamilians, Malyalis, Punjabis, and many from north India

        Professional Diversity – IT folks, PR, branding, creative directors, students to revenue officers

        Age classification – The youngest fellow was 16(not sure if it was 14) and (g)oldest was 63

        Sex – Male and female period.

        Thanks to the HP folks for helping make the event techjazzy and of course the effort of team Indiblogger to have live streamlining of tweets and tweeples in laudable.

        Mr. Anoop was one of his kind breed. He irritated, insulted, abused, annoyed and agitated people but his words made us laugh and roar. He has a good sense of humor. The introductions round , 30 seconds of fame, gave insights into what everyone of us is and it was a fun event, everyone showing of their lighter side; trying to make people laugh. Few succeeded beyond measures and most of us were Dud failures to make people laugh.

        Next we had the famous write-on-your-back Live and let live comments round for more interactions with our fellow bloggers followed by snacks –delicious Samosas I say. Then, there was a presentation by HP followed by a session on Moblogging and appeals for social causes; not to forget indipolice putting forward the issues about content on Indiforum.

        The presentation by HP about next gen data and printers was simply awesome. It gave me insights as to where we are heading. I am glad they launched their cloud printing concept in our meet. It was a great honor to be a part of history in making. My friends simply loved the cloud printing concept when I mentioned it to them.

        I simply loved the segment (which I believe was not on Agenda) were appeals were madefor social causes – Sanskrit Online, Civil Defense, pollution prevention and a case study –opportunities for different ability people on the net. Who says we the crazy freak bloggers are not socially conscious?

        I want to thank HP for whole heatedly for showering us with the printers and other gifts (though I won nothing but the IndiShirt that was given to everyone). There was a photography contest where people where capturing Photos and mailing them. Tweets were flowing around and people were blogging right from the venue.

        If I was Harry potter then this would definitely be my Howgrats. I could never thank Indiblogger and their partners/sponsors enough for giving me this opportunity to meet my kinsmen.

        My friends at the event were carrying all kind of gadgets – Ipads, smart phones, iPod etc. Everyone was busy growing their network - taking snaps, mailing them to one another; exchanging the twitter handles and tweeting right away, getting the facebook IDs and making friends online. You won’t believe if I say that there was a tweet about going to restroom and another tweet asking not to tweet about your restroom adventures. Amongst all this Euphoria, I was running around as a person from another age and another period, carrying a pen and pocket book to make friends. No, I cannot use my phone to do all this, probably it is the most primitive mobile phone available in market, I am not even sure if it is available these days.

        That is when I realized, I needed a smart phone that would help me lead a life like I want to. Make friends on the fly, tweet whenever I feel like, capture the precious memories as photos and mail them to friends. And what better than the new One touch Net Docomo Alcatel Phone.

        Docomo. Here I come. Keep my life (the smart phone) ready.

        02 October, 2010

        The curse of the Deserted Railway Station






        This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 15; the fifteenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.







        Jane and Jeremy, a middle class American couple came to India to realize their dream wedding. It was not going to be a big fat Indian wedding but it was their dream nevertheless. They had about a week’s time for the wedding and wanted to go around. They hired a tour guide cum driver Taposh Ranjan Das. To say the least, they were simply floored by his humbleness and honesty. For three days, he took them around to various places across north India including Taj Mahal. Jeremy wanted to know things about India that back home his friends didn’t know or had not been to, so he requested Taposh to show them some places which not many people know about or visit.

        Being the true Indian host and humble guide, Taposh agreed. They had been traveling on a lonely road for about an hour now when the vehicle broke down suddenly. Both Jeremy and Taposh’s experience with vehicles put together didn’t help to start the vehicle. It was almost dusk and they were but curious to get going. Taposh went ahead to look around for help, the couple didn’t want to be left back. Jane realized that if they were to be kidnapped and killed here it will take people weeks to find their bodies. She shuddered at this thought and hurried to catch up with Taposh.

        They spotted a building and when they approached near, they realized it was a forsaken railway station. There was no one around, the counters and the benches empty. Dust and cobwebs formed such thick layers that one may drown in it. The railway tracks were rusted, it should have been ages since a train passed on his track. The place was full of stench and the couple wanted to get back to the safety of the vehicle. So did Taposh. When they turn around to leave, the couple let out a shriek and fell down to the floor. Standing behind them was a lady. When did she come? They hadn’t heard footsteps, how did she land up behind them? Taposh was shivering all about. Her dark eyes with an overload of eyeliner, her ear lobes which were adoring hundreds of earrings and the weird bangles she wore made her look terrifying. She was catatonic with pronounced limp and when she spoke it was a coarse voice filled with urgency .

        She said “Why have you come here? Is it your death that called you? Don’t you know this place is cursed? The mother and daughter will not let you go from here. You are finished”.

        Taposh knelt down before her, his hands folded, still shivering he said ‘O holy mother, please forgive us. We were looking for help and we stumbled here’.

        Jeremy didn’t want to be seen as a coward by his future wife. He manage to stand up and asked the old lady ‘Who mother and daughter? What curse?

        She changed her gaze to Jeremy. Jane thought this lady was the from the horror show she was watching yesterday night.The old lady replied "Years ago, a mother tried to escape the rituals of Sati system with her 8 year old daughter. The girl was married to a 50 year old drunkard who died soon after marriage. The girl was to be burned alive with her dead groom. The mother wanted to save her daughter, so they escaped and were about to board a train to run away when they where caught and burnt alive, here, in this very railway station. Ever since, they have been haunting this place. No person who passes through this place will lead a happy life ever. The couples won’t have children and others would die of mysterious diseases."

        Now Taposh was shuddering and shivering more than ever. He said “Please forgive us, we will go back and never return. Please save us from this trouble oh holy mother, give us a solution

        There was absolute silence for about a minute and it seemed like ages, At last the lady spoke “You people should not be here. Get going. Give me money; I will perform prayers to ward off the evil and to keep you safe. Give me the money and get going."

        Jane chose to speak at this moment "How do we believe you? What if you just want to cheat us and this story is a lie”. There was silence again and after some thought the lady closed her eyes and spoke slowly “You aren’t married are you? You come from a land from the far west and you are here to get married. Ain’t I right?” the couple nodded, she continued without opening her eyes “You have come here to be betrothed into the sacred marriage and your vehicle broke down and that is why you are here”. Taposh started prostrating before her and said “You are right your holiness. You are right” He then addressed the couple “She has mystic powers and I am sure she can ward off the evil. Please give her the money she asks for”.

        The couple was still doubtful. The lady opened her eyes and started walking out of the railway station towards the vehicle. She placed her hand on the vehicle, closed her eyes and asked Taposh to start the vehicle. The very instant Taposh pressed the start button, the vehicle roared to life. The couple was convinced now. Jane ransacked her purse and handed over 300 dollars to the old lady “This is all we have now. Please pray for us and bless us for our future wedded life”.

        The catatonic lady  accepted the money and blessed them; the vehicle moved on. After traveling a mile or so, Taposh’s cell beeped. He had a message; it read “Next time onwards, get better customers”.
        A smile spread on his lips and he replied back “Ok Mom. See you later tonight. Keep my share.”







        The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.




        29 September, 2010

        The holy dip took his breath Away

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        Note: This is a work of my imagination and any reference to any person (living or dead) or to a place is purely co-incidental.


        Dasappana Kunte (Dassapa’s pond) is a small village that came into existence 15 years ago and has been gaining popularity as a tourist point ever since. Like every tourist point, this village has a story behind it, a divine story.



        Fifteen years back this was no village but a small establishment of around 20 families. The only distinguishing feature was the 3-4 feet deep small pool formed by rain water logging and rest all was wild. Since no one bothered to venture on these grounds, the poor families found it a safe haven to settle down.

        Dasappa was a small, shrivelled fellow with deep set eyes. He carried a mystic aura and that made people revere him. He had quite a following and his USP: teach people to love!. No, Not the mankind or brotherly love, but tips and tricks to improve your romantic love life. Tips, that will help people keep their romantic life going and in turn spread happiness around.

        How he managed to come up with these tips and tricks was a clandestine affair. Not many people knew that he would tour the bigger cities and towns, observe the trends, watch movies and come up with his own tips and tricks based on these learnings.

        In a particular incident , he visited his nephew’s hostel in the capital city. He watched many movies and was inspired by two things – the Titanic signature of Ship-tip-scarecrow-act and the song “Take my breath away” from Top Gun and that’s all he needed to come up with his best blessing for his followers.

        History was going to be made at the 4 feet deep water logged pool on this fateful sunny day. Word had spread that the divine Dasappa was giving out his most blessed learning and that the water pool was chosen to be the auspicious location to perform this act. Huge crowds from surrounding villages gathered. There were people from all generations – Married, to be married, will be married, wannabe married and divorced. All wanted to see the divine perform this act himself.

        Dasappa tailored his observations and came up with the best-romantic-thing-to-do ever. He stood at the tip of a boat trying to balance himself in the Titanic signature style and addressed no one in specific and said ‘Oh my people, if you want to perform this act, you and your spouse/lover must stand the same way I am standing now with your partner in front of you and chant the mantra I will chant now’.

        All observed with great curiosity and interest , everyone concentrating on the lips of the divine. He raised his head and screamed ‘Tyaak miy bireth awaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay’ (vernacular version of take my breath away) and at that very moment he lost the balance and fell in water. He was totally embarrassed.

        He tried again and history repeated, he fell in water again. He was totally furious and was cursing his own for not having practiced it beforehand. He started again, changed the location and direction of the boat within the pond and he realized that people were memorizing the process of the position, the mantra and how to take the dip after the mantra. An idea struck him and he smirked at his own genius. He addressed everyone that he will demonstrate one final time how to recite the mantra and take the dip and also that, this process will help them achieve Nirvana.

        He screamed the mantra and took a deliberate plunge with all his energy, and indeed, this effort took his breath away. Unfortunately, the water was only 1 foot deep and his head hit a huge boulder and the force was enough to cause a brain hemorrhage and eventually his death.

        People were mesmerized. The divine had sacrificed himself for the people, to improve their romantic life or their love life. The water pool was dedicated to his mission and renamed as Prema Sagara (The ocean of love) and the area was named as Dasappana Kunte (Dasappa’s pond).

        If he was a hero while living, he was definitely a superstar after death. More and more people revered him as the word spread. People performed all kind of Pujas at this place and started settling here. His death brought more love and happiness to people than his life. The place became a major tourist point and business thrived, people residing in that area became rich and were naturally happy and loved their spouses more.

        Even to this day, newlywed couples as well as the love birds who take oaths of being bound for seven lives come here, stand at the tip of the boat in the Scarecrow positions, scream ‘Tyakkmy-birethaw-aaaaaay’ (it is quite expected for the enchantment to be distorted as time passed by) and jump into the pool.

        This post is written for BLOGESHWAR  and Anubhooti