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29 September, 2010

The holy dip took his breath Away

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

28 September, 2010

Lets be united

Whatever the outcome of Babri Masjid case, Let us stay United

22 September, 2010

300 Words: The Escape Plan

This story is written exactly in 300 words

Sylvia was a French agent whose identity was compromised. She was to be taken to the gallows in few days. She called upon the favor of a fellow French man settled in this country but still had a soft corner for his homeland. They devised a plan. She had three months before execution and few other prisoners were to be executed in this period. So, when the next prisoner is executed, the Frenchman would make arrangements for her to hide in the coffin of this prisoner. Later that night, after the coffin is buried, he will help her out of the grave and a horse cab will take her to the countryside. She will be free again.

A few days passed. Then things worked as planned.

Two weeks later, an execution took place on Monday morning. When the high bell rang, she made it to the coffin room and hid into the secret compartment within the coffin. The coffin was taken to burial grounds and buried after the rituals. Excited that she will be free again, she eagerly waited for the hour. Only that she didn’t know the wait will never end.


In the meantime,

The French revolution needed her, she was central to their plan. They knew they had to get rid of the dangerous Major in- charge of prison, to free her. They organized a coup to prove him a traitor. It worked well. He was charged guilty and hanged immediately. It was in his coffin that she was hidden.

The French revolution were very happy and were planning the future course for her escape. What they didn’t know was that they had set up and killed the only person who could have helped Sylvia escape - The Frenchman, the Major in- charge of the Prison.

20 September, 2010


This is a cartoon strip by Space Avalanche. I loved it and felt it is worthwhile to be shared with all of you

17 September, 2010

Book Review: It's Not about the Bike

Author: Sally Jenkins, Lance Armstrong Genre: Auto Biography, biography, Motivational, sports

Do you think you have faced hardships? The hardest of hardest? Want to be successful? Do you want to know what it takes to be a star, a true-blue star? Do you want to read a self help book which is as good as any fiction novel? Then Read It’s not about the bike – the story of Lance Armstrong, written by Sally Jenkins.

This book is the autobiography of Lance Armstrong. It talks about his life growing up in Texas. His upbringing by his single mom, the bike and his passion for riding. The hardships he overcomes to become a famous world-class athlete; the threat to end his career in a single stroke - his testicular cancer that spreads across to other body parts and his fight and sheer determination to live and win the most coveted title of the cycling word –Tour de France Championship.

Sally Jenkins is an accomplished sports writer and her prowess is displayed in the way she has portrayed Lance’s life. Not for a minute would one feel bored but turn pages anxiously as the story unfolds. The reader will connect with Lance when he goes through hardships in relationships and his life overall.

One would empathize with Lance when he learns that he will die and would support him all through his struggle there on and cheer him and celebrate with him when he wins the tour. Vicarious feelings exemplified. Kudos to Sally Jenkins for a book wonderfully written.

I will cherish having read this book and would keep visiting this autobiography time and again.

Trivia: Quotes from the book

"The one thing the illness has convinced me of beyond all doubt - more than any experience I've had as an athlete - is that we are much better than we know. We have unrealized capacities that sometime only emerge in crisis. So, if there is a purpose to the suffering that is cancer, I think it must be this: it's meant to improve us."

"The truth is, if you ask me to choose between winning the Tour de France and cancer, I would choose cancer. Odd as it sounds, I would rather have the title of cancer survivor than winner of the Tour, because of what it has done for me as a human being, a man, a husband, a son, and a father."

"You'll have to convince me you know what you're doing," I said.
"Look, I've done a large number of these,"Shapiro said."I've never had anyone die, and I've never made anyone worse."
"Yeah, but why should you be the person who operates on my head?"
"Because as good as you are at cycling"-he paused-"I'm a lot better at brain surgery."
-NeuroSurgeon to Lance Armstong

13 September, 2010

Spot the Difference - Answers updated

Just to relive the memories of those good old days from Chandamama and other magazines, I have made a spot the differences graphic.See how many differences you can spot ( Hint: There are more than 10 differences)
Good Luck

The most obvious 10 differences are below:
1) Missing pebbles near leg

2) Extra pebbles near leg

3) Missing lines on the pants of second person

4) Missing line in the middle(top) of the stone

5) A dot on the nose of first Person

6) The shadow of the stone

7) The hammer in the hand of second person

8) Missing ARM band on the hand of first person

9) Extra pearl in necklace of second person

10) Missing leg jewelry in the leg of second person

Spot the rest for yourself ;)
P.S: The remaining answers will be updated after sometime

04 September, 2010


This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 14; the fourteenth 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.

Tring Tring.

Me: “Hello, I am Samantha Gaekwad. Welcome to Pelican Business Solutions …….”

No! I am not a call centre employee. I am a receptionist at Pelican Business Solutions. How I happened to land a job here is a controversial story in itself. All I would say is that the wretched recession played kingmaker for all my batch mates and I for sure was not in its good books else, how will you explain me landing this job despite scoring first class and being among top ten scorers.

But I also have to acknowledge my parents contribution to making my life such a successful failure. No, I am not talking about the values they have instilled in me or about my upbringing. I am talking about their genes. Both are good looking people and the genes passed down from two good looking people make me more beautiful, an eye-catching beauty. That was the only criteria for my recruitment to this post and nothing else. Who knows, I would be doing something better if I was not beautiful.

It is the month of June and monsoons are back fully loaded. The rains have done a good job this time; it pours day in and day out. I no more enjoy rains the way I used to in childhood. Those were the best days. But now, I have too many things on my mind to be a sport for the rains. You will find a smile plastered on my face through out the day but the gleam in my eyes is missing. I smile as it is a part of my job.

It is pouring heavily as I pack my bag and board the bus for my house. I some how feel lost with nothing going my way. At times, I feel like starting from the start at school and live the life again and today was one of those times. I had a strong urge to get back and all I could do was to get down at my school and walk to home just like the good old days. I open my umbrella and try to walk carefully not to wet myself. I am suddenly reminded how I used to run away from Nikhil when he tried to get me under the umbrella. I used to love to get drenched in rain but today I frown at few drops that barely touch me. What is it that had changed within me?

As I walk, I ponder on how things changed with time. Aunt divorced and dad in jail, the onus of running the family daily chores has shifted to me. I cannot quit the job although I have hated it from the start. The umpteen number of guys who pass by everyday and give me luscious looks embarrassing me and my boss who always tries to hit upon me. I hate them all.

And then there is Anshul, my boy friend who cannot make up his mind to marry me. Sometimes I feel I was too desperate to have a boy friend then, else I do not have taste for spineless creatures. We have been together for five years now and he still lacks the courage to talk to his parents about me.

How good will it be to let go of everybody and everything ? to become carefree again and enjoy my life? Myself and nothing else. Just me and my happiness? But alas!, I give upon it and continue walking. In the meantime, a car zoomed by not caring to slow down at the puddle. As a result, spraying my white dress brown with the muddy water from the puddle.

I was so furious that I let go of the umbrella and started swearing at the long gone car and the driver. By the time I calmed down, I was totally drenched in rain water. I raised my head in despair and few rain drops hit my eyes. Intuitive reaction forced me to close my eyes, but I didn’t look down. I braved the rain and as it hit my face time and again, I felt happy, really happy, just like the old times. What started as a smile, turned into a giggle. After a very long time, I was giggling, enjoying the rain water, without minding the numerous vehicles that passed though the puddle spraying more of the mud water on my dress.

I felt carefree as if nothing has gone wrong and enjoyed that moment. It felt light at heart again. My monsoons had returned and I had rediscovered myself.I walked, jumped, danced and half sprinted in the rain to my house. I knocked at the door like never before. My mom was aghast and angry, both at the same time. She said “Sam, look at the dress. What is wrong with you? You are no more a kid”. I entered the house ignoring her words, hugged her tight and placing a kiss her on cheek, I said “Mamma, surf Excel hai na” and winked.

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.