One Fine Sunday

 “Wake up dear its 10. How much are you going to sleep? Even kumbhakaran would have got complex if he would be alive now” mom was yelling from kitchen. It was not enough of cessation my sugar sleep that evil member of my family took charge to exasperate me by playing stupid basshunter’s song vociferously.

 “Stopover that non sense else I’ll smash your that music player you monster” I shouted at my younger brother by wrapping my head snugly by my super soft pillow. He did unerringly what he shouldn’t have done. He dragged my bed sheet and commenced exhorting “Di get up now, else I’ll have to call dad then he’ll see you better”. This was contravention of limits; he blackmailed me! I had to rouse nonetheless to retort him.

Nathuram Ghodse- The Real Hero!!

Why Godse Killed Gandhi? 

Nathuram Ghodse is often a misunderstood character. He is referred to as a Hindu fanatic. It is often hard to understand Godse because the Government of India had suppressed information about him. His court statements, letters etc. were all banned from the public until recently. Judging from his writings one thing becomes very clear – He was no fanatic. His court statements are very well read out and indicate a calm and collected mental disposition. He never even once speaks ill about Gandhi as a person, but only attacks Gandhi’s policies which caused ruin and untold misery to Hindus. Another interesting point to note is that Godse had been working with the Hindu refugees fleeing from Pakistan. He had seen the horrible atrocities committed on them. Many women had their hands cut off, nose cut off, even little girls had been raped mercilessly. Despite this Godse did not harm even single Muslim in India which he could easily have. So it would be a grave mistake to call him a Hindu fanatic.

Life's a Bitch!! Part-2

Continued from Life's a Bitch Part-1

_______________________________________________________________________

I nodded to him but in my mind’s eye I smiled to myself – the “joke” was going to be on him! Then I waved everyone goodbye, went to the waiting hall, sat on a chair, opened my bag and took out the letter I had written to Aarti. 

During the flight I alleged about it. After trying my utmost, I just could not envisage Aarti as my wife in my new life any more. Till now I had done everything to make everybody happy. But It was my life; Time would heal wounds, abate the injury and dissipate the anger; but what if I got trapped for life with Aarti, it would be an absolute adversity.

Life's a Bitch!! Part-1

“When did you come home? And what are you doing here? Did you have dinner?” my mom was staggered when she wedged me in kitchen so started questioning like archetypal concerned mother. “Yeah mom” I retorted as cold as water bottle elicited from refrigerator. I knew my mom was nippy enough to clench resentment behind my unruffled reply. She became quizzical to find ulterior “What’s wrong Nishant? Is there anything troubling you? Didn’t party go well?”

Lost Identity

Looking out of the window observing the dense clouds from my plane I was trying to recollect all the sudden series of moments that had disturbed my solaces. Exactly three hours back I had seen the e-mail and after reading it I did two things. First I took a print-out of the mail, kept it in my pocket and deleted the mail from my mailbox. Then I called the airlines and booked my ticket on the next flight to India.

Stolen Moments

                     

Shyam, a newspaper guy checked the time, ‘oh its 8:10. I am late, I should have delivered paper to “Aalap” by now’ he engrossed in thoughts and started striding. His feet stopped as he reached commodious white bungalow. Every morning he sees it, he is implicated in peering enormity and its magnificence as well. He found it equally amazing every time.

He pulled thick thread of bell, the bell was jangling. It was real bell which is generally used in school and at temples. He still remembered how amused he was when he had heard that chime for first time. Shyam was waiting for her to open the door, meanwhile he was peering the nameplate. It was unlike others but very artistic. Name was written using musical notations… though it was tough to recognize it at glimpse, it was innovative.

A Bitter Confession!!

I loved Ritika a lot and couldn’t risk losing her; this was my only chance to get her back forever. That’s why I did not tell her or involve her in any way. Not even the smallest hint. I made my plans alone and with perfect care. An “accident” so coolly and meticulously designed. Precisely at 04:40 in the afternoon, the ghastly accident would occur. And then my phone would ring – to convey the “bad” news. And suddenly I would be a free man.

Free, Liberated from shackles. Released from bondage. Then all I had to do was to keep cool, maintain a solemn façade, and wait for Ritika to return from Germany. Then after the customary condolence period was over, Ritika would propose to marry me – an act of chivalry, of sympathy, or even “self-sacrifice”. First I would demur, then “reluctantly” succumb to the pressure from my friends and relatives, and accept - just for my children’s sake. There would be nods of approval all around. And soon I and Ritika would be Husband and Wife. 

Only If I Could.....

Only if I could tell you what my heart really feels for you ..

Only if I could shout to the world how happy I am having you ..

Only if you could be here with me every time I need you ..

Only if you could be every now and then just mine..